#queue stole my heart away

[unwelcome-ephestion]

The song that is thought to have the longest title in any musical is from the Stanley Donen picture Royal Wedding, starring Fred Astaire and Jane Powell: How could you believe me when I said I loved you when you know I've been a liar all my life? It's simply joyous to watch, even when you have seen Easter Parade; it's pretty clearly Donen's take on A Couple of Swells, the number which cemented Astaire's brilliance when he came out retirement in 1948. Yet it's not a total repetition; Jane Powell brings a brilliant, bolshy quality, and the physical comedy is played up much more - you can see that this is the man who will go on to make Singin' in the Rain.

What they do share is this particularly sibling-esque quality of performance, rather than a romantic couple - although Garland and Astaire will end up together in Easter Parade, there is nothing romantic in this number, which is much more childishly playful. Astaire and Powell are playing siblings playing a couple, and as a result a similar childish playing-at-adulthood emerges. The staging is also unbelievably similar, even for performances on a stage, and the use of vaudeville double-act types is the same. Donen has, however, certainly upped the Gloriousness of the Technicolour in Royal Wedding! See A Couple of Swells below - both magnificent!

[loverboykirstein]

biting the bullet // kinktober pt. 4/5

sam (sdv) x afab! reader

wc: 7,574

mdni -> warnings: mentions of addiction/neglect/throwing up/mental illness, unprotected sex, breeding, possession

***“go. whatever happened, whatever-“ he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “whatever happened, fix it. go-” another sigh, covering up his lack of words. “you can’t claim a broken heart that you broke on your own,”. 

you can’t claim a broken heart that you broke on your own. 

you did break his heart, right? 

you..

a deep breath, the last swig from the bottle that had mixed with the night sky’s tears of solidarity. 

on his feet, another deep breath for the road. 

“samson, go,”.***

the mismatched pattering of his heartbeat in his ears began to close his throat, chest cavity torn apart by the weight of a passing phrase. 

“can we do tomorrow? i’m taking them to the look-out on my bike tonight,”. 

what..? 

it was happening again. he let his guard down for just a moment, a fraction of a second, and his lungs and heart and every nerve ending were spilling out of his ripped apart being, invisible to all but him. 

you..seb..? of course you want seb. everyone does. we each have a role, right? just like mom? like dad? 

is there something that wrong with me? how do i atone for my sins in my past life to mediate the bullshit i’ve drug into this one? that’s the only explanation, right? 

it followed him everywhere, a sick joke that didn’t even have a punchline. in its wake, it simply stole his soul away, piece by piece, a sick treasure hunt of trying to rebuild and rebuild and rebuild. 

for what cause? to sit up and stare at his ceiling, snapping the rubber band on his wrist over and over and over again, a piss-poor attempt to calm himself down that never seemed to work. 

what was he supposed to do? he hadn’t even been handed the short end of the stick, simply tempted with it like a dumb dog and locked in a collar for the rest of time as punishment for his greed. 

the desperate, aching, bruising desire for a life. 

to be more than a secondary, to figure out who he was. 

to fall in love and not get hurt. 

to begin to trust without losing his joints in the process, left a brittle mess of grinding bones at the end of it all. 

to make the decision to live for himself, not for the need of the image of others. 

to make it out of a war-torn cage, to never follow in his fathers footsteps. 

to build a family that was wanted, unlike his. 

he wanted that with you. 

he never knew why he existed, or what the point was. 

then he heard your laugh for the first time, handing him an extra maple bar you had made and he nearly collapsed at the life that made his fingers numb and filled his lungs instantaneously. 

but now,  quiet trembles rustled through his bloodied fingers, too busy taking out anything he could on anything he could. 

near the edge of the valley, beyond leah’s quaint home lied a hidden little cave, behind bushes and trees and the occasional critter or two. 

his blood stained parts of the exposed rock, the only thing he could hit without feeling bad. far enough away, no one ever finding him out there. 

for no one to hear his violent sobs, his screams out to whoever was behind all of this, why, why, why. over and over and over, prayers for a reason as to why things had to be this way. 

but if he wasn’t home to set the table, his mother would lose her temper before the oven timer even rang. the sun finding its way back to the never-ending horizon was her queue, the so-called ‘acceptable’ time of day to numb the sorrow crawling near, pushing it onto the son she never wanted in the first place. 

which left vincent to his own devices, luckily not alone, but he knew he wasn’t doing well, penny not focused enough on teaching, more on playing, as she glued herself to the novel of the day, explicit enough to be banned from the library entirely. in front of the kids? really? 

so he would swallow his heartbeat, coughing up a stable voice through his constricted windpipe that built a facade good enough to fool just about everyone. 

he sat on his floor for hours. the hum of the washing machine was echoing through the paper thin walls. 

everything was else felt silent, felt quiet. 

except the unrelenting grave digging itself wide open in the middle of his messy bedroom. 

because things weren’t quiet. dad was fighting for god knows what, narrowly missing shrapnel with each breath. 

mom was mixing pills and booze, manic-depressive in nature and waiting until the very edge before it was too late. 

but the worst was knowing that you and seb weren’t being quiet. you weren’t asleep in your bed, cuddled up with your cat under a quilt and your childhood blanket held close. 

you were clinging onto him, body pressed against his. sharing a spot of the world that he had only seen once, seeing the city ahead of him that he could barely remember being a part of. 

the most he could remember was his childhood therapist, the only one who saw past his so-called laxidasical disposition and class-clown behavior. struggling with reading, a common case of adhd and anxiety all jumbled up inside of a first grader. 

a hint of dyslexia, and the guilt of his mothers cries he could hear against the locked doors, mourning a life without children. 

nothing a child should have to bear, tiptoeing as to not crack the paper thin ice that made up his floorboards. 

craving attention from the ones who created him, from the one who carried him in her womb. 

father rarely around, making up for the lack of stability in the form of a paycheck and health insurance. 

reprimand after reprimand, the only way to get his mother to look him in the eyes. 

acting out as a cry for help, at validation, at fucking anything. 

from the comedy covered pain,  he learned to always know how to make someone laugh. to make sure they could exhale a little bit of whatever was holding them back, even if it meant that he had to let it settle in his lungs so it wouldn’t fall back into theirs one day. 

he promised himself that he would never open up the small little lock on his exterior for anyone. ever. 

maybe he didn’t notice, or maybe you tripped the wires first, but the alarm bells never rang. no emergency protocol, no swot team to barricade his entire being shut. 

you left the door open, not even bothering to worry about the heat being on, letting all the cold air in. 

or maybe you didn’t even know, the key hidden in the corner of your room, under your bed mixed with dust and other lost memories. 

how was he supposed to face you again? he had planned on inviting you to the band’s first show, your excitement bouncing off the walls at the thought, when he mentioned the idea. 

even though they only had a few songs, rough drafts at best, poor attempts at writing lyrics in an attempt to give abi and seb the spotlight. 

also in fear, knowing someone would put the pieces together, that someone would connect the dots. that they would see the unrepairable shattered glass of his being behind it all. 

that you would figure it out, never looking at him the same way again. 

⊹ ࣪ ˖

weeks flew by in aching stretches, avoiding contact with anyone,  his only bandaid over the wound. declining invitations that could maybe bring you close, making your laugh ring in his ears or the smell of your perfume that would replace his train of thought. 

all his time spent sleeping, the sun becoming his worst enemy. 

braving the light only upon vincent’s summertime pleas, just to lie and say that dad was okay, that there was nothing to worry about. 

flickering his eyes between his brother and the beach entrance, hoping, praying, you wouldn’t appear behind him, or anyone for that matter. not strong enough to explain his absence, to explain the proverbial last straw that chewed up and spit out his barricaded soul. 

you would stop by, questioning his mother on his wordless disappearance. she didn’t have an honest answer, blaming it on music school? 

weeks turned to months, watching the seasons pass by. he couldn’t figure out why it hurt so goddamn bad. 

trying to process two decades worth of grief, wrapped up in his dna as he grew inside his mothers unwanting body. 

every effort, every last ditch grasp with a mildly politically incorrect joke, another brick laid on his wall of lies. 

why did this become his downfall? the dramatic, be all end all suffocating downfall. 

what did his subconscious craft while he wasn’t fixing up the cracks? too busy lost in your stories that filled him with a mix of worry and thrill all at the same time, the small scrunch of your nose, and the way you bit your lip when you lost your train of thought. 

two weeks after the attempt harvey made to check up on him, to ‘have a talk’, a government letter arrived through the mail slot on the door. 

kent was coming home. dad is coming home. dad is coming… home..? 

arriving in a week, realizing he had a week to build the wall back up. 

to rid his eyes of the rubbed-raw corners, saltwater leaving a red hue around his lashes. 

to cover up his sullen cheeks, too fucked to get up and take care of himself beyond the minimum. 

the hole in his chest mirrored the grave he had to step around when he got the courage to move, too deep and vacant to see the bottom. 

he couldn’t figure out why you were the one to kick all of this off, you weren’t even that close? sure, friends who saw each other all the time, near habitual meetings that would worry the other when routines changed. 

but you weren’t together, did he even have the right to blame you? 

you didn’t cause every ounce of pain he had endured through the fabric of his life, you didn’t stitch pain into the pattern of his fingerprints. 

but every goddamn thought came back to you. you, you, you. 

all he fucking wanted was you. 

it was pathetic, a childlike reaction to not getting something he made no effort to get. to try and make, to try and prove himself to you. 

you were probably waiting for the next rain by now, already modifying your cabin to accommodate your soon to be husband. 

FUCK. 

the 7 letters managed to make him ill, rushing past the all consuming ending cornering him against his wall. 

knees melting the cold tile, reaching to turn on the sink and the fan so that no one could hear him try and expel the hell of that idea. 

that he would get to sleep next to you every night, he would want love songs about you, he would get the chance to see the most intimate parts of you and so much more. 

everything sam wanted, gone. stripped away. 

but it was never his to begin with, was it? 

⊹ ࣪ ˖

a blur of days meshed together, world now sideways as a version of his mother he had never seen cleaned every corner of the house, paint chips repaired, hiding every dark secret she tucked away in his absence. 

the dread made him want to hurl, want to really disappear. how was he supposed to face a version of his father he didn’t know at all? 

two bags in hand at the doorstep, his mother and vincent sobbing in unison at their reunion. but he saw it. the visions in his eyes, the forced image of being alive was like looking in a mirror. 

he didn’t know what to do. he was stripped of anything he ever knew. any hopes of his life ahead. 

except his was lost in a real war, fighting for some sort of cause that came with a paycheck and praise and thank-you’s. 

sam’s was a selfish mess, ruining himself over the idea of something that wasn’t real over a goddamn sentence. 

a look of unblinking eyes, both bloodshot and sad, a nod of mutual understanding but also complete confusion. 

kent wondering what went wrong with his eldest as he was gone, mouth running dry when he recognized the look plastered on his son. 

a hot meal, the first real one kent had eaten without the threat of an air strike in god knows how long, mixed with his favorite beer he could finally share with his eldest. 

despite the distaste, sam took the opportunity to drink, no reprimands on something that would make him feel less. 

but it seemed to do the opposite as he stepped out into the pouring rain, clouds appearing out of nowhere as the sun took its leave. 

letting the cold, wet air settle the heat of panic in his stomach, he jumped half to death when his father tapped his arm with an open beer bottle. 

“take it,” kent tipped the bottle towards him, watching the rain patter on the glass. 

he nodded, nearly losing his grip as he swung back far too heavy of a drink, not wanting to taste it anymore. it tasted like guilt, disappointment. 

“kid, spill it. i didn’t stay alive to see the same look in your eyes,” kent’s demand knocked sam’s brain around in his skull, stunting his breathing and blacking out his vision. 

“what?” he coughed, knowing it wouldn’t work worth a damn on his unhappy father, who seemed to already know what happened, yet equally clueless as he had never asked about sam’s feelings before. 

“samson, c’mon kid. i-” he sighed, eyes tracking the rain on the porch make its way to the sidewalk. “i want to help you. i want to be a father, at least a friend. i realized that, alone out there. i can smell it on you, so talk,”. 

a lingering, sulfur filled silence crushed his passageways, nearly collapsing into his father like a small child after scraping his knee on the playground. 

‘i want to be a father’. 

“look kid, if you don’t wanna talk, that’s fine,” kent leaned up against the painted exterior of what felt like a new home. “just, whatever it is, you can’t run away forever. it doesn’t wor-”

“I DONT KNOW WHATS WRONG WITH ME, DAD,”. 

the first time he had ever spoken up to his father, that he had raised his voice. 

a cracked voice still managed to let the sorrow spill, pooling over his lash line and mixing with the rain. 

“i can’t fucking take it anymore-i-FUCK,”. 

his syllables were broken, caught between desperate gasps for air in his first cry for help. 

paper mache hands disappearing under the diluted salt, crouching down as if to save them. 

“she’s-” his words barely coherent, choking up his pathetic admittance. “she’s probably already gotten that stupid fucking pendant god damn it all,”. 

broken laughter, a mix of every feeling known to man, choked up with gravel and acid. 

“i never fucking did anything about it, either,” running his arthritic bones through his sopping wet hair, he looked up at the man who had just been through the troubles of war. 

real war. 

not the emotional one, the near psychosis-like state of a few months passed. 

“so do something about it,”. kent was cut and dry, the only way he knew how to cover up his heartache. 

his eldest, the one he held the most guilt for, the most agony for. the one he prayed for every night, the one who was his first thought every time a bullet flew past a little too close. 

he didn’t want to break, knowing that if his son watched him collapse at the sight, he would never forgive himself. 

“what?” nothing more than a scoff, but a halt of accidental waterboarding at the gasps for air. 

“go. whatever happened, whatever-“ he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “whatever happened, fix it. go-” another sigh, covering up his lack of words. “you can’t claim a broken heart that you broke on your own,”. 

you can’t claim a broken heart that you broke on your own. 

you did break his heart, right? 

you..

a deep breath, the last swig from the bottle that had mixed with the night sky’s tears of solidarity. 

on his feet, another deep breath for the road. 

“samson, go,”. 

his fathers gruff tone, eyes sharp and stern sent his feet moving, running. 

barely able to see in the dark, pouring rain, letting nothing but his burning blood carry his body to the place you called home. 

i have to fix this i have to fix this i have to- 

over and over and over again, repeating like a broken record, the only words left engrained. 

even though you didn’t know that anything needed to be fixed, he needed to fix things for him. he couldn’t look at his father the same if he at least didn’t try. 

soaking wet, hair in his eyes and catching on his tear stained blinks, out of breath and on your front porch. 

the only shield left was your front door, metal handle illuminated from your porch light. 

do it, you already got here, do it. 

scattered shallow breaths from running turned to shaky heavy ones, raising his still-bruised hand to your wooden door. 

two knocks, two seconds, two more. the way he always did before his self-inflicted imprisonment. 

“sam..?” you rubbed your eyes, shocked awake by his unnerving knocks in the dark. “what are you-come in, you’re soaked,”. 

you looked panicked, not bothering to worry about anything other than him being soaking wet and out of breath. 

he took his sopping wet shoes off at your door, leaving them to sit on your porch next to your rain boots.  with less than a passing second, you had disappeared and returned with a towel and a change of clothes. 

“sam what the fuck-are you-” running around in your pajamas, a short pair of flannel shorts and a tshirt that nearly covered them entirely, turning the heat on and running a kettle on the stove, his drying eyes were too focused on you. 

questioning why you weren’t out as late as you used to, knowing marlon had found you passed out cold on one too many occasions. 

“y/n it’s-it’s fine, i uh-” he stood still, shaking his head as if to force himself to blink. 

“go, go change before you freeze half to death in my house,” busy standing on your tip-toes to reach the top cabinet, barely able to grab the box of tea you kept specifically for him. 

peeling his eyes from your strained calves and your ass peeking out of the bottom of your sleepwear, he hurried off the other way towards your bathroom. 

the sight of your overly exposed legs was enough for him to twitch, his mind such a goddamn mess that he couldn’t really even remember what he was going to say. 

suffocating in your perfume that had soaked into your walls, he forced his rain soaked clothes off his shivering body. the purple hue on his lips, aching joints. 

hands on either side of the counter, flushed cheeks and sunken eyes, sam caught his breath, stealing any strength he could from the hardwood holding his hands. 

i have to fix this. don’t be a fucking bitch. suck it the fuck up, you fucking moron. 

hanging his clothes over the bathtub, towel still in hand, he caught sight of you pacing back and forth in your kitchen. 

chewing on your thumbnail, something you only did when you were stressed. brows furrowed, only snapped out of your endless loop by the kettle whistling loud. 

“better?” you asked, back turned to him as you poured him a mug full, adding a bag of his favorite tea from the traveling merchant in to simmer. 

“y-yeah. thank you,” rustling his hair with the towel, worn and faded, trying to rid it of any extra sorrow carried inside. 

“sit, mister,” you pointed at your couch, eyes stern almost like a mothers. 

he did as he was told, slowly caving in on himself as he felt like a bigger burden than ever before. 

“here, i’ll be right back,”. 

gently handing him the warm blue ceramic mug, the one vincent had given you after you spent your afternoons helping him learn to read, the corners of your mouth turned up slightly at the lax in sam’s shoulders once his joints found warm relief. 

grabbing a comb from under the bathroom sink, you came back wordlessly, floorboards creaking below your hurried feet. 

in a matter of minutes, you went from fast asleep on the couch, tv paused  from lack of activity when asked, cuddled up closely to your cat and your blanket, to wide awake and flustered, worried beyond belief. 

you knew that kent had come home, and you had planned to introduce yourself in a few days, allowing him time to settle in. 

rattling your skull was the fear that something horrid had happened, so bad that sam had run in the fucking rain to your cabin of all places after the endless era of radio silence. 

“so,” you sighed standing behind him, a small shadow casting over him as your body blocked the light in your entry way. “you gonna tell me what the hell has been going on?” 

your words were harsher than you wanted them to be, but fuck man, you hadn’t seen him in months, no matter how many attempts you made. 

pulling his head back a little, you began to comb through his incredibly tangled hair, feeling him dissolve under the slightly bit of affection. 

“can-can i ask a question..first?” his eyes were closed, mindlessly rubbing his thumb into his opposite palm. 

“only, if you pinky promise to tell me everything after,”. you stuck out your pinky, and he didn’t hesitate to reach yours. locking in his fate, peeling away the plastic film that was the only bit of his shield still remaining, your fingers crossed and released as the promise was sealed. 

“how are uh, how are you and seb?” it felt like blood came up as he spoke, riddled with sorrow filled expectations of what your response would be. 

“what?” you hands stopped their attempt to comb through his tangled blonde mess, stunned at the question. “were..fine? have you not talked to him recently?” 

huh? 

“no i uh- no i haven’t. i thought you guys were like…” 

“sam, you don’t think we’re dating, do you?” 

you-

“you’re..not?” covering his face with his hands, trying to hold any bit left of him together. 

“no? sam i-”. your breaths were deep, focusing all your downright confusion into releasing the knots through his hair. 

“oh,”. 

oh. 

“alright, now that your speculations on my nonexistent sex life are over can you please explain why you are here right now?” 

a black hole, all consuming, everything everywhere all at the same time. the inside of his skull, spinning, spinning, spinning. 

“i um-fuck, im so sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry,”. leaning his head back, fully into your overworked fingertips, soaking in every ounce of touch he could. 

“why are you sorry? sam you didn’t do anything, other than give me a goddamn heart attack,”. 

how are you not mad? 

how are you so casual about this? 

“i-” 

“if this is because of seb i swear to god i’m going to beat the shit out of you samson,” he could feel you shake your head in disbelief, as if he should have known or as if there was this big sign that was supposed to be placed in front of him that he managed to look right through. 

“y/n, i-”

he couldn’t cough the words he wanted out, embarrassment flooding his entire being, shame mixing in at a searing rate. 

he felt you silently leave, pulling his airways closed the further you went. 

so pathetic, so goddamn fucking pathetic. cant even tell her, what am i doing- 

“sammy, come back from whatever planet you're on please,” you were sat on the coffee table, knees touching his. two shot glasses in one hand, a bottle of liquor in the other. 

you set them both on the table, filling them each to the brim. dark amber syrup, so foolishly innocent, burning its way all the way past your lips. 

as if your voice didn’t make him dizzy enough, the liquor you kept on hand was always the strongest, outshining anything else he had ever had before. 

“each shot, we each share something. okay?” 

handing him his glass, clinking them together and kicking it back. 

he winced at the burn, the warmth bubbling in his stomach. 

he watched you drink it far too easily, better than you did the last time you drank together. your eyes, your soul looked tired, gone unnoticed in his own self-pity. 

soon the heater was shut off, both of you warm enough from the poison seeping into mutual bloodstreams. 

shot after shot, losing track in storytelling as he listened to you speak on your adventures in the newly found desert, all of the new weapons you learned to use. 

how he had tried to teach alex to skateboard, his first time getting high, struggling to find any reason to talk about himself when you were sat in front of him, inches away. 

he was simply infatuated, beyond infatuated, soaking up every breath to make up for lost time.

“oh! sammy, sammy,” you nearly whined, placing a hand on either one of his thighs. “will you pleaseee tell me where you’ve been all this time?” 

your slightly jutted lip, flushed cheeks and steadfast grip on his legs froze his surroundings, eyes locked on your pleading heart. 

just fucking bite the damn bullet. 

“i-seb canceled on me, that night he took you to the lookout. and i-” he leaned forward, heaviest sigh blowing fear out of the way. “i realized i couldn’t handle that. i couldn’t handle you being with-”

“sam-”

“i couldn’t handle seeing you with someone else when all i ever wanted was you, i just,”. 

“sam-”. 

“i knew that wasn’t fair to you and i just, i didn’t realize how much i-”

guilt ridden words cut short, your liquor stained lips shutting his. entire body pushed into him, not even enough time for him to fully register what was happening. 

is she..? 

“you’re fucking stupid,” you pulled away for a moments time to mutter that to him, pressing your forehead against his. “it has been you this whole time, idiot”. 

what? 

“what?” his eyes forced rapid blinks, unable to process what you had just said, what you had just done. 

“i-god damn it all sam LISTEN TO ME, i never went with seb that night, i wanted to do that with you,”. 

shock was the only way to think of it, the world frozen on its titled axis as it listened to your confession, to his heart that was on the brink of collapse as it beat so hard it shook the ground. 

a few short stutters, words falling flat. months of self-imposed torture, losing everything he knew, breaking his father’s heart, really was selfish, too scared to do anything. 

if he had swallowed his fear, faced the music, done something, anything. 

don’t let this get away. don’t fuck it up. don’t fuck it up. 

lifting his hands from his awkward side, roughly placed on either side of your hips. 

using a newfound strength, he pulled you from the table, right into his lap. 

falling into his wordless surrender, you let your body collapse into his, legs straddled on either side. 

your clothed cunt immediately rolled against his length, pulling all of the blood from his body to an aching throb under you. 

addicted to the sheer desperation in the air, gravity itself forced your lips back together, making up for months of time apart. 

feverish from the first touch, wildfire to a field of wilted grass, burning oxygen faster than it could be replaced. 

each heavy breath another exposed confession, his grip pushing you into him even harder another apology for leaving you for so long. 

tongues fighting for a chance at forgiveness, soaking up the words that were too hard to exhale. 

he let out a soft whine at your separation, instant drop of his stomach as you pulled away from his bruised lips. 

dropping your head to the side, he shivered under your heated breaths against the side of his neck. heartbeat nearly visible, your swollen lips pressed slow praises down, not leaving an inch untouched. 

opposite hand keeping his jaw turned, you trailed your tongue back up, a smirk hitting your lips at the twitch you felt against your spread legs. 

no permission, no hesitation, just a gasp from his aching lungs as you sucking a mark of sheer possession in the form of broken blood vessels. grazing your teeth along with your vampiric latch, leaving a bruise dark enough no amount of makeup could cover. 

your hips now indented with the lines of his fingerprints, permanently etched into your skeletal structure. 

“bedroom,” you whispered into his ear, sin coating your voice in blatant need. 

body driven by nothing but lust, he stood from the couch as you wrapped your legs around him, one hand cupping your ass while the other was itching to open the door to a new life. 

it was all happening so fucking fast. 

you wanted him. 

this whole time, you wanted him. 

letting your head hit the plush of your bedding, he loomed over you with two devilish sparkles in his eyes. 

one glistening as his broken heart glued itself back together, your touch ensuring that every piece was perfectly aligned. 

the other shimmering in primal greed, suffocating any thought other than possession. to not lose the chance to keep you all to himself. 

a needy look twitched in your jutted-lip pout, a wordless plea for him to take what was his this whole. time. 

now fluid joints, unphased by the ache in his tortured hands, hooked under your shorts, no underwear in between. 

warm fingers against exposed skin, the small bit of decency on the floor with one swift effort. 

cold air hit your already wet cunt, a small trail of your sticky pleads following your clothing to the floor. 

“can i..?” he looked up at you for a moments time, not wanting to lose sight of your glistening slit like his life depended on it. 

you nodded, not letting the small voice of insecurity speak up before your aching heart did, unprepared for intimacy to this degree. 

or intimacy at all for that matter. 

a touchy subject, too used to getting hurt. leaving your life behind in the smog coated city, one night stands back in the poorly painted walls of your studio apartment. 

you thought you knew what love was, the overwhelming panic, the world ending promises to be better, to be prettier, to be someone they wanted. 

forcing the thought out of your mind, each synapse in your aching brain going fuzzy at the first swipe of his hesitant tongue. 

it had been so long since you had been touched, too afraid to ruin a friendship in such a small town. to not overstep your place as the new addition in an already woven community. 

too exhausted to do it yourself most of the time, the thoughts only settling in when it came to him. 

a single brush of your fragile bud make your ears buzz, the sheer ache to feel it again, and again, and again. 

silent prayers answered, waters tested, sam’s tongue writing apologies and months worth of confessions in your pooling slick, feeding him the first meal of his life. 

placing your hand over your mouth, muffled whimpers replaced exhales, sharp inhales through your nose not providing nearly enough oxygen to your racing heart. 

“don’t hide, pretty girl,” his slightly slurred voice stuck like honey, pulling your hand away without a second thought. 

his plea a few octaves deeper, your walls clenching around nothing at all and with his drunken confidence. 

like he would die of hunger if he strayed away any longer, you lost sight of him between your legs, tongue teasing your pleading hole. 

“sammy please,” you couldn’t do anything but whine, a fistful of his hair in your shaking fingertips. 

pushing his flushed face deeper, nose pressed against your clit, shoving his tongue in as far as he could. 

muffled vibrations of his satisfied moans shook your core to near collapse, the slight movement of his nose making your legs quiver against the side of his head. 

thighs increasing their strength, ensuring he couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to, the telltale that you were already on the brink of release. 

the first of many, just the beginning to a man who would never forgive himself for leaving you for what felt like an eternity. 

no time for warning, words broken into a mess of jumbled up letters, your salty-sweet slick flooding his overworked taste buds at an alarming rate. 

nerve endings twitching, spine forced to endure repeated bolts of serenity with each spasm. all ten of his fingers bruising your thighs as he held onto them so tightly, a feeble attempt to keep you still until you rode out your first high of the night, your first in so, so long. 

finally able to breathe at the weakening of your hips, legs shakier than you would have liked them to be. wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, more than enough of you on him, and he loved it. 

meeting your blown out eyes, you couldn’t stop the nervous giggle that bubbled over, dragging his long lost smile out of the dark with each little sound. 

both hands covering your face, embarrassed, nervous. 

how a man like him, so gorgeous, so gentle, would want a single thing to do with you, you didn’t understand. 

hiding away your feelings for him for what felt like ages, heart shredded when he took his reclusive leave, without a word on why. 

weeks spent spiraling, wondering what you did wrong, how you could fix what you didn’t even know. 

“nuh-uh, no thank you,” his tsks were so thick, so heavy as he pulled both your hands away from your face, eyes softening just enough at the sight of your embarrassment. 

“do you want to keep going?” question so very gentle, not assuming like you had always known. 

and it was fucking hot. 

a quick nod, a little shy at the urgency in your reaction, but needing him anywhere was all you could think of. 

you watched him stand beside you, a better angle to strip himself of his clothes. 

nearly drooling at the sight, you could have died and gone to the highest bits of heaven, and it wouldn’t compare to the feeling of him looking down at you with his hand on his cock, thumb tracing over his pre-coated pink tip, silver bar glistening. 

oh fuck. 

each scar that covered his arms, each muscle contracting with labored breaths, made a whimper fall out of you, like a bitch in heat. 

“needy girl, aren’t you?” he climbed on top of you, urging you to sit up just a little so he could tear away the fabric hiding the rest of you. “haven’t been touched in so. very. long. huh?” 

usually, patronizing teases would have angered you to the third degree, but it had you melting into his palms like ice cream on a midsummers day. 

feeling his fingertips graze over your whole body, thumbs baaareely drawing circles around your nipples, another guilty whine for more, more of him. 

“think you can take me without stretching ya out?” his demeanor turned a little cocky, nearly pulling a bratty remark out of you, just to run his tongue against your over-sensitive chest. 

palming one tit, mouth fixed on the other, you nodded without thinking. a muffled ‘mhm’ and a handful of hair, pulling his fixated mouth away. 

“tell me if it hurts, okay?” a sliver of seriousness caught in the bubbling excitement pooling inside his blood, you knew he really did mean it. 

length in hand, he lightly traced his leaking head up and down your already swollen cunt, a small attempt at teasing you before he plunged inside your screaming walls, begging to pull him in and not let go. 

both hitching in air through gritted teeth, holding onto the last molecule you could manage as he slid inside, so. goddamn. slow. 

maybe in fear of hurting you, but really trying to gather himself at the sheer grip you had on him, regretting his own choice to not stretch you at least a little before letting his greed take over. 

so warm, so wet, better than any drug he had ever taken, or ever would. 

“s-sam, m-more, please?” you begged, batting your lashes ever so slowly to not give him a choice, but needing him so, so much deeper. 

any sense of restraint lost as your pleading eyes surrendered to him, and who was he to say no? 

he would never say no to you, not after what he did. 

an obedient dog, snapping his hips into you, flush against you. knocking the wind straight out of you, only thing you could feel was him. 

settling in, head dropping as he lost all of his strength, losing it all to restraining his urge to breed you right then and there. 

“fff-fucking hell,” his sputters were whiny, causing a slight spasm around him. the sound of struggling, barely keeping it together drove you fucking. insane. 

feeling full, feeling whole, wanting nothing more than for him to destroy you, molding your walls to the shape of him. 

“sammy, please,” you shifted your hips slightly, pushing against his hip bones, brushing the sweet, sinfully sweet spot you don’t think had ever been reached. 

his blacked out eyes, taking photos of the scene to never forget how goddamn angelic you looked under him, committing a cardinal sin. 

white-knuckle grip on your sides, bruising your bone marrow with his desperate grasp. 

jaw slacked, eyes locked on the mess of slick you coated him in, a slight clench in his jaw. 

free of his chain link leash, a feral animal let free for the first time since its previous carnation, learning to live again. 

focused on nothing else but you, your pleas for him to claim you, to mark up your insides far beyond recognition, begging for him at every breath beyond this moment in time. 

his whimpers mixed with low hums and exhales with each violating thrust, veins pulsing, a sick smirk pulling on his lips as he ruined you. 

instinctually squirming away, the urge of another trip over the edge already settling in, overstimulation hitting you like a bullet train without its lights on. 

feeling the slight quiver of your legs against his hyperactive body, a hand released your side, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder without a falter in rhythm. 

held hostage, you swore you could feel him in your chest as he fucked into you again, and again, and again. 

hypnotized by the furrow of his brow, glossy lips swollen from his hyper focused bite, holding back his own profanities as he tried to hold back his own release, never wanting the moment to end. 

if heaven existed, it was buried deep in your cunt, chest bouncing with each relentless thrust. it was the dig of your nails, grasping on to whatever they could. 

it was your fucked out eyes, watering at the corners in desperate need, in submission to his every want, his every dream. 

since that very first day, you were the thought at hand when he was fucking into it, edging himself for hours as punishment for thinking of you that way. 

but your innocent glances, and hard to read gestures every friday, the time you wore a that dress, dancing along with abi at the flower dance. 

taking the masculine role while dressed in a white skirt, a little too short for such a windy day, excusing himself to the depths of the forest. 

back against an oak tree, knowing seb would come looking for him at any moment, and god did it excite him in such a twisted way. 

he couldn’t fuck his fist hard enough to get the thought of taking you then and there out of his mind, flipping up your skirt and pulling your panties to the side. 

making you carry his cum around all day, slowly dripping out of you as you spoke to his mother. 

but this, the real thing, was better than any fantasy he could ever imagine, the sound of your sopping wet cunt pornograohically loud, each wall of your unpainted cabin holding onto your sobs for more, more, more. 

hiccups caught in your throat, back arched and nails leaving crescent moon cuts in his arms as your second snap pulled him in harder, deeper. 

watching you fall apart was the sweetest thing, spilling out onto your bedding as he refused to let up. 

a dangerous game, knowing he was teetering on his own edge from the start. 

“m-‘ya gotta let me know if this is gonna be-”, his words cut off by the purposeful squeeze of your walls, offering a raised eyebrow and your bottom lip bitten. 

nearly knocking the wind right out of you, he flipped you onto your stomach, forcing you onto your knees. 

“you think it’s funny, huh?” leaning over you to purr in your ear, only focusing on how empty you felt, needing his pierced tip beating the life out of your cunt. 

“mm-no,” you shook your head, face red, pushing your ass into him just a smidge, hoping he would grant you your wordless wish. 

a palm to your ass, red hot and stinging, a startled gasp slipping out as he lined himself up with your dripping hole. 

without a warning, his hips were pressed against your ass, one hand forcing your arch deeper, the other holding your hip to keep you upright as he rammed into you. 

mine, mine, mine. 

over, and over, and over. 

sobs of overwhelming everything spilled out of you, moans nearly cut silent by the permanent bruising to every inch of you. 

sucking him off so well, pulling him back in with a force greater than gravity itself, his jumbled profanities mumbled under his breath only making it that much harder to hold on to reality. 

“wanna-” stuttered breathing, feeling the twitch of his cock buried inside you flash like a warning sign. “wanna fill you up- m-make you mi-mine,”. 

higher pitched, through clenched teeth, you had never heard a man so shattered, so beyond steady that his eyes blurred. 

the most you could offer was the push of your ass against him, too close to your own unraveling again  to remember a single word. 

his hand slid from your hip to your swollen, battered clit, squirming against him as the warm pad of his middle finger matched his sacrilegious pace. 

a matter of seconds is all it took, suffocating his overworked length that much tighter, too lost in your own ecstasy to feel the ropes of sin inside you, met with a loss of rhythm and short gasps for air. 

a weak attempt to catch your breath, feeling him slowly relax inside you, blood making its way back to his shaking hands and overworked core. 

releasing himself from your now relaxed grip, his fingers ran small circles on your back, delicate whispers that slowed your heart rate to normal. 

drained, all the energy stored in the form of internalized anxiety depleted, no control over your emotions anymore. 

a silent sob, tears of everything allowed to flow free at your relaxed inhibitions. 

“shhh-shhh it’s okay, it’s all okay,”. he pulled you up from your knees, gentle fingers moving you to his lap. 

head against his chest like a child, he rocked back and forth ever so slowly, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back his own tears at the sight of you upset. 

what happened ? is she okay ? what- 

“never-” your muffled words caught behind a screen of hyperventilation. “never run away like that again,”. 

your heaving body against his, his heart paralyzed at the sheer heartbreak rooted in your syllables. 

so goddamn mad at himself for bringing you to tears, but so fucking relieved that you wanted him to stay. 

“i-” a tear stained hiccup, an attempt to bury yourself inside of him completely, “i thought you left and didn’t say goodbye,”. 

she-she thought i would do that..? 

“shhhh, no no no, i’m not going anywhere,” cradling your face, letting a small stream pool over his lash line. holding his breath enough to mask the sputtering spasms thrashing around in his chest. “i would never, ever, do that to you. i promise,”. 

“pinky promise?” you pulled your face away from his chest, blurry eyes meeting his. raising your fragile hand, awaiting his interlocked promise. 

“pinky promise,”. interlocking without hesitation, pressing his forehead against yours. 

“will you stay tonight?” body running cold, the fear of him leaving settling in your stomach, overtaking the bubbling acid. 

“i will stay with you forever if you asked me to,”. gentle, soft. thumb against your cheek. 

“will you stay forever, then?” 

“anything for you,”. a gentle kiss on the nose, a sigh of relief mutually exhaled. 

tears dissolving, mending two broken hearts as they dried. 

matched breathing, hearts beating in unison. 

anything for you.

---------------------------------------------------------

long time no see! so sorry this was so delayed, i had to work an insane amount of overtime at work and had a massive lyme flare up.

i have an alex fic in the works, who else would you like to see?

lots of love to @justwolosers for being there through all this!

mwuah! ᥫ᭡。

[domquixotedospobresblog]

This world has everything I need to be happy. There are cars I can't buy. There are so many beautiful countries I'll never visit, for the same reason I can't buy a car. There are so many seas I can't enter. Unfortunately, I haven't learned to swim. There are gigantic mountains I can't climb. I'm afraid of heights. It's better not to risk it. There are so many fatty foods. My cholesterol is high, there are fantastic sweets. My diabetes is high, there are so many salty foods. My kidneys are high, there are so many liqueurs I can't drink. There are so many wonderful animals. My allergies. And I left the best for last. The most beautiful women in the world. It's a shame I'm the ugliest man on the face of the earth, and apparently the poorest and also the sickest. That's what I said and I'll say again. This world has everything I need to be happy. It has everything to make everyone happy. This is the great proof that the world is not to blame for anyone's unhappiness. It also can't go around giving everything away for free. And the fight is the conquest. And it would be a world very boring without people complaining in hospital queues, and that's where I heard my last no, I wanted to combine her Ebola with my motaba, but a certain corona stole her heart.

Jonas r Cezar

[jaxgurl24]

Chapter 23: Ride or Die, Even at the Fair

(Slow Burn | Found Family | Chaos | SAMCRO Dad Mode | Hidden Danger | Cliffhanger)

---

Starting Trouble Before You Even Left the House…

“You got shot three days ago,” Jax said, arms crossed, brow set in that look that usually meant he wasn’t budging.

“I’m fine,” you shot back, zipping up your hoodie slow just to watch his jaw tick. “I can ride my own bike.”

Clay’s growl joined in from the living room, deep and iron-solid.

> “Ride with Jax. Ain’t up for buryin’ my daughter anytime soon.”

Opie, ever the brother in this mess, threw in his two cents without looking up from lacing his boots.

> “For once, I’m with Clay. Just take the damn back seat, alright? Give us one fuckin’ day without worryin’ if you’re bleedin’ somewhere.”

You arched a brow at Gemma, who blew smoke at the ceiling and said,

> “Boys actin’ like you don’t outride half of ‘em on your worst day.”

Her voice tipped the scale.

Jax cursed under his breath.

Clay muttered something about gray hairs and daughters who didn’t listen.

You smiled, kissed Jax slow and smug, grabbed your helmet off the counter.

> “I’ll meet you there.”

He didn’t stop you.

Not really.

---

Fairground Chaos: Round One

You rolled into the county fairgrounds ahead of the boys, bike purring like a promise beneath you. Felt good. Felt right.

They pulled in minutes later — Jax first, already shaking his head. Opie glaring. Clay scowling like he aged ten years on the ride over.

“You’re impossible,” Jax said, pulling you in for a kiss he didn’t want to admit settled him.

“You love me for it,” you teased.

“Still doesn’t mean I won’t tie you to my bike next time.”

Tig wandered past, grinning like the devil. “I volunteer.”

Gemma whacked him upside the head.

---

Games, Rides, and Heart Attacks (Again)

You weren’t about to let them smother you in bubble wrap just because you survived a bullet.

You hit every booth.

Out-shot Happy at the rifle range — barely.

Beat Tig at the strongman bell by cheating.

Dragged Chibs into bumper cars and rammed him into a wall hard enough he threatened to cut your brake lines.

“You’re givin’ me gray hairs, girl,” Opie muttered as you strutted by with another ridiculous stuffed animal prize.

“You’re already old,” you tossed back, earning a rare smile.

Even Jax couldn’t keep up with your chaos tonight. He followed, kissed you when you let him, cursed you when you didn’t.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he said as you stole the last bite of his funnel cake.

“I’m lucky I’m fast,” you teased, skipping just out of reach.

---

The Zipper Incident…

You slipped away for half a second — long enough to queue up for The Zipper before anyone noticed.

By the time Jax spotted you strapped in, the ride had started.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now?!”

Opie’s hand slapped to his face. “Jesus Christ, again.”

Clay’s growl vibrated deep. “I swear to God—”

The ride jolted. Rocked harder than it should’ve.

Something mechanical clanked.

The car you were in swung high, jerked wrong, made even you grip the bar tighter.

“Fuck,” Jax hissed, already moving toward the operator.

Opie was right behind him.

Happy? Just stood with his arms crossed, eyes locked on you like he could will the bolts to hold through sheer intimidation.

The ride groaned. Slammed. Spun too fast.

Your laughter cut through the chaos.

You were fine.

Mostly.

A little dizzy.

A little smug.

When they pulled you off the ride, Jax had you in his arms before your feet hit solid ground.

“You’re insane,” he said into your hair.

“You love me for it,” you whispered back.

Clay’s voice cracked low and final:

> “I won’t bury my daughter anytime soon. We need you. Don’t make me remind you again.”

You just grinned, kissed his cheek, and promised to behave.

(You lied.)

---

Fairground Chaos: Round Two

You didn’t stop.

You doubled down.

More games. More trouble. More teasing.

You handed Happy your cotton candy while you scaled the prize wall just to prove you could.

“You gonna keep stirrin’ shit up, girl?” Jax teased, watching you lean over the counter to claim your victory.

“Isn’t that why you love me?”

He kissed you slow. Lazy. Like he wanted to forget every fight and fear that led you here.

Opie just groaned from behind his beer.

> “I’m too old for this shit.”

“You’re thirty-five,” you called back.

“Exactly.”

---

But You Didn’t See It. Not Yet.

Somewhere behind the lights and the noise…

Eyes tracked you.

Not SAMCRO eyes.

Not locals.

Not law.

A man in a ball cap pulled low.

Phone pressed to his ear. Voice low. Watching.

“She’s alone enough. You just say when.”

---

Still, You Laughed.

Because tonight wasn’t about shadows.

It was about freedom. About clawing joy back from the grave.

It was cotton candy and bumper cars.

Cheap prizes and too-loud music.

SAMCRO watching over you with tired smiles and loaded guns.

You settled beside Jax on a bench as fireworks cracked red and gold across the sky.

Your stupid stuffed bear in your lap.

His arm heavy across your shoulders.

“You done now, darlin’?” Clay asked, somewhere between tired and fond.

You smiled. “For now.”

“You’re not goin’ anywhere,” he said. “Not while I’m breathin’.”

Gemma blew smoke at the sky. “Told you boys. Fragile.”

Opie leaned in, quiet but firm:

> “Stay close. Don’t run off again.”

You promised.

You meant it.

---

But…

At the edge of the fairgrounds, beneath the dying fireworks…

That man still watched.

Still waiting.

Still listening.

> “Yeah. She’s here. I’ll follow when she leaves.

No.

Don’t worry.

I know exactly where she’s goin’.”

---

END CHAPTER 23.

[joshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

Blueprint for Murder

Yeah I saw that Peter Falk himself directed this episode and decided, fuck it, let's watch two in one day. Short Fuse wasn't really great so this got to be my actually good Columbo fix for the day. Lots to appreciate here, I'd primarily say by way of the pretty large amount of likeable characters. Bo Williamson is honestly a bastard and I was kinda happy he died, but everyone he has a connection with is really fun - Goldie consistently stole every scene she was in and I wish she got to appear even more often, Williamson's heart doctor is a bit character in one scene and is immediately entertaining, and Markham as a murderer is entertaining as well - smart, too. Pressuring Columbo into digging up a pile in order to secure said pile as a body dumping spot after the fact was really clever, and on the viewer's end it's kind of the first time they've really planted a seed of doubt in Columbo himself, you know? Wasted tons of time and money and made a fool of himself and now Markham will get away with it, it's good stuff. Columbo, of course, was willing to put himself in this situation because he's still following his hunch, and he knows what Markham is planning, but it's effective. And on a front unrelated to the story itself, I'm not really great with directors or directorial style - like I have some ability to pinpoint "that was kinda flat and dull" vs "woah that was cool and evocative", but I'm only barely better than the average person for that and certainly below the average cinephile. But Peter Falk's own direction felt pretty good here, and there's a surprising lean towards the silently comedic. Columbo navigating the bureaucracy of building permits and long office queues was a really fun scene. Shit's just good, swag.

And as one other sidenote, that's the last episode of season 1 baby! We are zooming. Will start on season 2 whenever I start on season 2.

[theabysss]

Dance

pairing: sagau!Arlecchino x Reader

summary: The performance is over, the hall is empty and only the two of you are dancing on the stage.

warnings/tags: gn!Reader, religious + cult themes, possessive & obsessive thoughts, yandere.

word count: 1k.~

note: This lovely lady knocked down my entire fic-writing schedule and shamelessly got into the queue, but I forgive her. After all, she is my wife.

The performance ended and the sound of loud applause still hung in the air. The audience had already left, the actors had gone to their dressing rooms, and the hall was completely empty, except for the two of you.

Arlecchino followed you as a shadow as you descended from your loggia and ascended to the stage. You looked around the hall with interest and turned your gaze to her. She managed to keep her outer composure under your scanning gaze, but inside her, anxiety began to slowly rise. Is there something wrong with her looks? Before she had time to get completely flustered, you walked up to her and smiled as you held out your hand to her.

"Dance?"

Her heart skips a beat and she peers into your face in amazement, her mouth slightly parted and she tries to say at least something, but the words freeze on her lips. You looked at her so tenderly, waiting for her answer, Arlecchino swallowed hard, your kindness was often sung in songs, but the encounter with this, amazed, shocked, stole all the air from her lungs.

You did her such an honor with your invitation, here on the stage you stood patiently waiting for her answer, as if you thought that she could refuse you. She would never do that, Arlecchino never refused the gifts of fate.

You were too kind a god, graciously distributing your grace to everyone, even those who did not really deserve it. Arlecchino clenched her hand into a fist, digging her nails into her palm, these disgusting miserable creatures, none of them had the right to bask in the rays of your strength, enjoy your attention. To tear them apart, mutilate them so that the thought of meeting with you would not dare to come to mind.

She shook her head to drive away bad thoughts and finally carefully put her hand in yours, as if afraid that it would melts like dew in the morning.

When you pull her to you, goosebumps go down the back of Arlecchino, you were so close and it clouded her mind better than any wine or fire water from Snezhnay.

You were the Creator of Teyvat, the God she prayed to as a little girl, standing in the cold with numb fingers that she didn't feel at all then. A weak child who spent hours in front of your statue on the street in the small village where she lived. Then it seemed to her that a wild cold settled right in her bones, but Arlecchino did not stop, whispering the words of prayer with her blue, cracked lips.

Your hand on her lower back, burning heat penetrated through the layers of clothing and seemed to reach the heart in a warm wave. Arlecchino put her hand on your shoulder and licked her dry lips. As you gently intertwined your fingers, she bit her bottom lip with force almost to the point of blood.

As a child, she could not even dream of the opportunity to see you live, to stand so close that she could feel your breath on her face. She tries to snuggle even closer to you and draws in the air next to your skin, enjoying your natural scent. Bliss.

You start dancing and Arlecchino obediently moves with you in the same rhythm, adjusting to your pace. Another step, turn, the hem of her tailcoat develops behind her, following the movements. The sound of Arlecchino's heels echoes through the empty hall. Her body was filled with a weightlessness that she had not felt before, as if she had wings growing behind her back. Next to you it has always been like this, life is usually gray and tasteless filled with colors.

She keeps her eyes on you, absorbing every change of emotion on your face. Greedily, inextricably as your faithful follower shouldn't have done, but she just couldn't stop. Closer, get even closer to you, until she becomes the one you trust the most, get rid of all the annoying insects spinning around you. So that your warmth, your tenderness, belong only to her.

Music begins to play softly, gradually becoming louder, sounding from all sides.

"I think it will be better with music."

A playful smile appears on your face and Arlecchino wants to kiss it. Right now, press her lips to yours, steal your breath and never breathe out again, keeping a part of you in yourself.

Seconds pass adding up into minutes, the time of your closeness that Arlecchino burns into her memory, stores like gems in a cache. The awkward movement leading up to a brief contact of yours thighs sends shivers up her back and leaves her legs weak.

Your shadows under the harsh spotlight look inseparable, merged so strongly and completely that they are unable to part.

The last chords that put a bitter taste in Arlecchino's mouth and mark the end of her happiness. The footsteps slow down and you freeze under the ensuing deafening silence. Arlecchino's back arched, supported only by your hand, your faces so close to each other that she could count your eyelashes. The smallest distance between your lips beckoned to reduce it, to succumb to passion, to let go of control.

You close your eyes and gently touch your lips to hers. Cautiously, as if Arlecchino were an expensive crystal that threatened to break from any careless movement, tremulously like the touch of a butterfly's wings. Arlecchino deepens the kiss, her hand moving to the back of your head. You were like spring water, your taste was sweet and refreshing, only making her want more. No matter how much she try, there will always be little, a thirst that could not be quenched.

Arlecchino wasn't about to let you go, not after she got so close. She will convince you that she is the best, that she is more worthy than any of your followers, be they archons or ordinary owners of vision. Anything for you, just be close to her, save all your smiles and tenderness only for her. All you are only for her.

Reblogs, comments, are always greatly appreciated! ヽ(o^ ^o)ﾉ

[awaybacktothen]

Today is the last day of my 20s. I've wasted the first eight years on depression and anxiety, and long covid stole the last two and my life as a whole from me. My queue finally ran out a month or two ago after two years, since it's not like I was actually to be able on here, after being here all day every day for ten years. So I guess this is it.

I am utterly and completely exhausted every second of every day, in pain all over my body every second of every day. I don't remember what it's like to feel any sort of rest anymore. I can't move my head a millimeter without feeling dizzy and. My body feels heavy, so heavy, even though I'd actually lost 25kg and I'm not overweight for the first time since high school. I live in a dark room full time and I spend half the day with white noise on cause I can't tolerate the sounds my parents make just living their life in their own apartment, cooking, cleaning etc

I'm deteriorating with every month and there's no way for me to know when the day comes that I'm fully bedridden, fully unable to tolerate any light or sound, fully unable to stand on my feet.

I've watched one movie and two tv show seasons in the last two years as I'm no longer able to watch things, to handle the light and movement, to easily process what I'm seeing and hearing. The last thing I watched was about a year ago and by then I was already struggling to follow the plot, properly process what I was seeing and hearing.

I just can't believe everybody gets to live their life as if nothing ever happened and I'm left severely disabled and will never get to live anything remotely similar to a normal life. I left the house once this year. Everybody's just living, at the very least watching shows and playing games and I can't even do that. I will never go to on a vacation or to a concert or to theatre again and that breaks my heart into a million pieces

Pride month is on, such fun, I'll spend it in bed, alone, for the rest of my life. Hey anybody know of anyone who wants to date me while I can't leave the house and I can't move my limbs much? No? Long covid made me lose every close friend, any chance at having a job, dating, living without assistance. I will now forever be living with my parents, unable to even take care of my room or myself.

I always thought I would one day be on social media a lot less and watch fewer shows and movies because I finally got a life. It never even crossed my mind that I would stop doing all that stuff because any life I had would be taken away from me by an illness.

You just never know if something's gonna happen out of nowhere and ruin your life forever, with no way of things ever getting better, with no way of getting better. You're always hearing about people's lives being ruined by severe illness or accidents. You never expect it to happen to you. I had a 'cold' and now I have brain and heart damage among dozen other things and will never get to do anything besides sit in my room too exhausted and too braindead to do anything. My life is one cruel fucking joke. Do you know what it's like to live knowing this is what your life is always going to be like? Do you know what it's like to mourn your life while still being alive? It's torture.

I cherish every friendship I made on here and I'm incredibly sad I'm not able to continue them. I miss you all. I'll probably pop up here once or twice a year for eurovision or tonys or something (although I don't know a single thing about the nominations this year, not even their names) if I'm at all able to

❤️

[missblissy]

6 for the hurt with Alastor pls and ty :)

((There is no comfort. Only hurt. Only Angst. Read at your own risk. >:3 Normally I post through the queue but this one was so much fun I wanted to post it right away!! Also Human!Reader and Alastor for this one!!))

Hurt/Comfort Prompts || CLOSED!!

6: "I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt for a second.”

The air was cold as it filled your lungs, but each breath was dampened by the snowfall. Shaken and uneasy, you struggled to stand on your feet. Each breath filled your chest all the way up only to leave in a little cloud of cold steam. The silence was beyond enough to deafen you. If this was under any other circumstances.... this could have been romantic. But the blood-stained snow and the rough scent of iron made that completely impossible.

He laid there in the snow, half propping himself up with one arm, and struggling to get up with the other. He had fallen flat on his back and now he did his best to sit up. Even with a bullet in his arm, Alastor still smiled up to you. Sure, he winced, and sure... he was dripping blood onto every inch of his clothes. But he smiled at you like he always did for all those years you were married.

Your fingers trembled around the trigger of the pistol that still smoked in your hands. You shot him. Let me say that one more time. You shot your husband. And he was still smiling at you like that didn't just happen. But he wasn't your husband to you anymore... was he?

"Dear, now why would you do such a thing like that?" His sing-song voice never changed.

You lifted the gun again and pointed it straight at him. Alastor was only laying a few feet away, covered in snow and on the verge of shivering, "Don't! Move!" A bead of sweat rolled down the said of your face, "I know now! You can't fool me anymore!"

"Fool you?" Alastor sat up a little more while slapping a hand over the bullet hole in his shoulder. His fingers started to twist and bend and dig deep into his flesh, "Dear, I've fooled no one. It's me," He didn't seem normal to you anymore. You could finally see the darkness in his eye, the crooked cracks of his grin, and the evil that laid behind his face, "You know me," He tried to coerce you, "We've been married for four years!" He yelled while letting out a laugh, "You're going to trade all that in now?"

You wouldn't let him weasel his way into your mind again. His laugh echoed into your ears as you shut your eyes and tried to block him out, "NO!" You stood your ground, "No more games! No more Radio Demon! No more deaths! I'm going to end this stupid game and fix everything you've messed up! This time, you lose!" Tears welled in your eyes as you took a terrified step closer to Alastor.

But you knew it wasn't him anymore. His broken glasses only reminded you of that even more. He laughed loudly and threw his head back with each deep laugh. He mocked you, "No more games!" He repeated, "It's always been a game, dear! It will never not be a game!"

"Enough!" You pulled the hammer of the pistol back, lining another bullet in the chamber. Your yell was enough to plaster a look of shock on him. Tears rolled down your face in waves as you managed to laugh through them, "You aren't my husband," You let out a manic laugh, "You- will never be him! I don't give a fuck what you did to him! But I'll stop you here and now so that it can go back to being just me and Alastor. Before you ever showed up and took him from me! And you won't exist!"

"You're not listening my dear-!"

"You're not listening you sick twisted fuck of a monster!" You stomped a foot towards him and pointed the gun between his eyes, "My perfect, wonderful Alastor would never become this sad, pathetic, garbage waste of a space creature laying before me! He'd never do the things you've made him do! You've stolen his mind and now his body! It ends here!"

You knew he wasn't Alastor, but the demon that stole him away from you. And now he was playing games with your mind. Because the face of your husband went from that of amusement... to pain and agony. As if the demon knew that shooting your husband would already be hard enough.

"You can't kill me!" He cried out, "You love me!"

That didn't matter. You had to stop him before he hurt anyone else. You took one last step and held the barrel of the gun only inches from his head. The wind blew up a rough breeze that cast snow all around you. The weight in your heart was enough to fuel more tears streaming down your face. You cocked the gun, lips trembling with pain and sorrow, "I'm sorry," You could almost see what little of Alastor's humanity was left in his dark eyes, as if it was crying out to be released from this world, "But this is going to hurt for a second."

[crazyfreckledginger]

Jason Todd x Reader - “In The Pale Moonlight”

After a one night stand, Jason doesn’t seem to be able to get his mind off you. Desperate to get you out of his head, he hesitantly agrees to go to Wayne Enterprise with his brothers for work, as a response to scrutiny from the general public. What happens when the person he was trying to erase from his memory pops right back into his life?

Requested by anon and on Wattpad: “Can I request one where reader and one of the boys are dating but they act like they still trying to get each other so they flirt a lot and stuff even if everyone knows they’re together”/ 

“And other one where the reader is feeling herself and singing “Meet me in the pale moonlight” by Lana Del Rey in front of one of batboys and they’re like wow she cute and kiss the readeeeeeer (they’re dating and they’re teenagers)THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU 💕” /

“haha well I have another which was that the reader is harley and Bruce's kid and she meets  batboys but jason since she knew before she left  for the first time since she was away for wayne industries business meetings”

A/N: I hope you guys don’t mind that I tweaked it a little since these requests don’t have alot of depth individually!

“I’m just here for a drink.” the girl smiled politely even though she was extremely uncomfortable. 

“I am too, can I have it with you?”

“Oh for crying out loud leave her alone, don’t be such a creep.” The man at the end of the counter groaned.

“Mind your business.” the creep gritted his teeth.

“Your disgusting aura is polluting my drink so it makes it my business.” (Y/N) watched as he stood up and walked towards the pair. Now that he was closer, the woman could see how attractive he was up close, stunning eyes, sharp jaw, tall and a streak of dyed white hair, “Fuck off will you?” 

“Who do you think you are?” 

“Sorry, I forgot a world, fuck off please.” The stranger shot the man a terrifying glare and without another word, the man studded away, like a dog with its tail between his legs. 

“Thank you mister, but if he laid a hand on me I would have sucker punched him.” 

“Mister huh?” he smirked, sitting beside her. 

“Well what’s your name then?” 

“Jason, pleasure to meet you.” 

****

“This is your place?” she hummed, fingers running through his soft hair as his lips trailed down her neck, pulling her legs around his hips.

“Mmh hmm,” 

“You rich or something?” the woman breathed out as he sucked on her skin. 

“Something like that,” he murmured, pulling away to tease her lips with his. Jason stared deeply into her eyes.

“What are you waiting for, lover boy? You brought me here.” (Y/N)’s arms hung loosely on his shoulders, occasionally touching the back of his head.

“Yes ma’am,” he smirked, hooking his hands under her legs and carrying her to his bedroom.

****

Glancing at her side to the soft breathing of the naked man beside her, she shuffled, stretching and yawning. What a night, she tried moving her legs but winced, what a night indeed. 

“Good morning princess,” his morning voice was incredibly attractive as his arm slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

“Mmh, good morning,” the woman squirmed in his grip as he nipped at her ear teasingly with his teeth, “what time is it?”

“You have someplace to be?” he murmured, hand caressing her naked hip.

“Yeah, I have work.”

“On a Saturday?” 

“Self employed.” 

“Nice!” 

****

A month or so later, Jason was frustratedly sitting in the meeting room, chewing on his lip in boredom as Bruce brought all of them to a meeting at Wayne Enterprise for less scrutiny from the public eye. 

“The person we will be working on for the new design is going to arrive soon so I need you all on your best behaviour.” He glared at all the boys. 

“Yeah yeah, can we just get on with it so I can leave?” The second oldest rolled his eyes. 

“Mr Wayne?” as if on queue, the person knocked on the one-way privacy film that covered every window of the room, the blurred figure waiting patiently on the other side. 

With a last scolding glance to everyone, Bruce strutted over, opening the door and smiling.

“Good morning Mr Wayne.” the woman greeted with a polite smile.

Jason’s eyes widened, and stayed that way even when he made eye contact with the girl. She responded with the same reaction, but quickly regained her composure and greeted the other boys. 

“Oh hey (Y/N),” Dick waved to his roommate, “you look great.” He flirted.

“...Um hey,” she greeted hesitantly, feeling a little uncomfortable with his usual ways in the professional setting.

“Shall we get down to business.” Bruce glared at his eldest son.

****

“You don’t have to act so grumpy.” Jason rolled his eyes as they finally arrived at their hotel in Europe after an excruciatingly long flight. 

“I’m tired, I need sleep.” Not wanting to address the elephant in the room, especially when she was this exhausted, she scurried to the bathroom to slip into comfortable pyjamas and landed right into bed, “I’m having this conversation tomorrow, good night.” 

The next day came quickly and (Y/N) opened her eyes reluctantly, wanting to melt in the comfortable double bed she was in. Discreetly, she peeked at the double bed facing her diagonally. 

The woman frowned, it was empty.

“I’m right here.” the man voiced from behind her as he exited the bathroom.

“Jason!” she screeched, “what the hell! Don’t creep up on people!” 

“Well don’t try to spy on people when they are sleeping!” he threw his damp towel to her.

“Ewwwww!” she grimaced.

“Chill, I was drying my hair with that.” he walked towards his bed, and she only now noticed that he was naked -- with a towel around his waist obviously. Steam was emitting from his skin as it glistened still.

With warm ears, she pulled the covers over her face, eyes peeking out discreetly.

“We’ve seen each other completely naked, I don’t see what the problem is, if you’re going to look, be shameless,” he moved his butt from left to right teasingly, “you can see this regularly if you want,” he chuckled.

With a sigh, she buried herself under the covers. 

“I haven’t changed my mind Jason, I’m sorry, I’m not interested in commitment at the moment.” 

She felt a weight on the bed and hesitantly took a peep out. Jason was laying on her bed, shirtless but with some underwear on.

“At least give me the benefit of the doubt for this trip.” he gave her the puppy eyes. Eying him suspiciously, she sighed.

“Alright, fine, don’t disappoint.”

****

A few months or so later into the relationship with Jason and gotten closer to his younger brothers, (Y/N) slipped on a comfortable T-shirt, watching herself in the mirror as she tidied her hair a bit and examined the hickey on her neck.

Swaying lightly from side to side to the song that was stuck in her head, she hummed softly to herself, setting out her clothes for the day.

“You don't have to give me anything

Just put your sweet kiss kiss on my lips now baby”

Walking back to the mirror, deciding on whether or not jewelry was necessary, the woman continued.

“Think about you almost all the time, all the time and-”

 “I love you so much baby,” he breathed out from the other side of the room. 

“Hmm?” she glanced in the mirror. 

“Keep singing~” 

“No,” she stuck her tongue out playfully, “are you ready?”

“Do we have to go?” Jason whined, marching up to her, slapping her ass and squeezing it before hugging her from behind, nuzzling her hair, his warm skin against her.

“Baby of course we do, we have to hide the fact that we’re together, plus they are fun, we’re all friends here.” she rubbed her butt against his hips and he bit her ear. 

“No teasing,” he whispered in her ear, turning her around and pushing her against the dresser, “or else.” 

“Or else?” the woman chuckled, “but seriously though,” her hands cupped his cheeks as he stared at her lips, “we can’t act like a couple, it’s unprofessional,” 

“Technically I don’t work at the company,” 

“And the person I’m working with is your dad.”

“Adoptive, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Just a coffee, maybe a lunch, and then we can come straight home.” 

“Mmh, okay,” he pouted, holding her tightly as she kissed his lips and pulled away. “You sing beautifully, please do it more for me.” he pouted. She chuckled, shaking her head slightly in embarrassment.

“Put a shirt on and let’s get ready, I don’t want to be late!” (Y/N) ushered, “and the sooner you’re out of here, the less anxious I’ll be that your brother unexpectedly enters his own home and sees you in it.”

When they were ready, at a somewhat reasonable time, they drove there as quickly and responsibly as possible.

“Why is your hand still on my thigh?!” (Y/N) jumped once she realised he had discreetly snaked his hand back on her thigh when he was parking the car on the side of the road, in a surprising proximity. Slapping his hand away and giving him a look, the woman slipped out of the car and walked up the stairs, ringing on the bell.

Jason scurried up beside her, slapping her butt playfully before pushing the door open. 

“Hey guys!” she grinned, not having the time to scold her boyfriend once again as she was greeted with welcoming smiles. 

“How have you been?” Dick teased, having seen her just yesterday.

After playful banter, and not-so-playful for the brothers, over a nice hot drink, a new topic came up.

“How was the party yesterday (Y/N)?” Jason inquired, knowing fully well about it but trying to seem inconspicuous, “I hope no one stole your heart, that’s for me!” … or not.

She paused, giving him an unimpressed look, reluctant to answer “It was great, and no.” 

“No what?” he smirked. Her cheeks burned, she did not like being put on the spot to lie, especially since this was incredibly unnecessary.

“No one did anything.” 

“To who-”

“This is embarrassing, we know you two are a couple,” Damian nearly gagged. 

“Huh?” (Y/N) turned to him, feeling her soul leave her body.

“How do you know?” Jason looked at him.

“It’s been a while.” Dick chuckled.

“We been knew 💅,” Tim rolled his eyes.

“Someone left someone’s underwear in an awkwardly obvious place when I came around… and you slapped her butt before you came in here, everyone saw it.” Dick explained, watching his brother.

“OH MY GOD, JASON!” 

“I didn’t- wait, how do you know that it’s her underwear???”

The eldest’s expression fell and he blushed. 

“I might have um-” 

“He accidentally came in when I was packing my bag to leave for the business meeting in France okay?” the woman spluttered. 

“You did WHAT?”

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Tagging: @lumifuer​ @ijustwantmyshipstobehappy​ @plethora-of-things @xlatinaaxx​ @lostnliterature @batette​ @schweeeppess​ @gearsinice​ @mizmahlia​ @tina8009 @disa​ @caswinchester2000​ @brooklynalpha​  @jason-todd-squad @vix360​

[unwelcome-ephestion]

Here’s a forgotten woman of musical theatre - Joan McCracken. She’s now mainly remembered as the first wife of Bob Fosse, but her contributions to musical theatre are much greater than that.

Image ID: publicity shot of Joan McCracken

McCracken shot to fame in Oklahoma!, credited in the programme as The Girl Who Falls Down because of her pratfall during ‘Many A New Day’. This might sound silly, but it would take until West Side Story for all individual chorus members to be assigned characters. The individual standing out from the chorus was a great surprise and added to the humour of the moment, and was a key innovation of choreographer Agnes De Mille. Joan McCracken went on to have a good Broadway career and appear in several films, although her work was hampered by diabetes, which she hid from her colleagues despite fainting spells, and which ultimately killed her aged only 43.

McCracken’s impact in Oklahoma! should not be underestimated - putting character before aesthetic was the show’s revolution, and her role was a huge part of that. She is also said to have encouraged Fosse to be a choreographer - whether that is true or not, it’s interesting that, like Gwen Verdon (Fosse’s second wife and Broadway legend), she was trained by George Balanchine, whose influence is evident in Fosse’s work. She is also said to be the inspiration for Holly Golightly, at least in part, in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, whose author, Truman Capote, had an affair with her first husband, Jack Dunphy. However, we should recognise her influence as an acting dancer and comedienne just as much as her influence on male creatives!

[binancydrew]

the claw-fee shop

by: katelyn / @amandabobbsey | troubledpancakes on ao3

rated: T | wc: 9234 | chap: 1/12

summary: a coffee shop au, 12 months.

tags: coffee shop au, modern au, slow burn, side: baddy & fanson, lots of nancy/ryan dynamics, mentions of nancy/nick, ace/amanda, more tropes to come i’m sure

notes: thank you to @parkersedith and @nightspires for all the wonderful feedback and eyes, and a major thank you to @cadetcama who has been my partner in brainstorming, reading my chapters 12 times, giving me headcanons for my own fic. you’ve been the MVP!

JUNE

She stood in line behind an officer in a brown uniform, scrolling through her emails with one hand. On the other arm, Nancy juggled a stack of paperwork and photos for the story she was working on and the sweater she’d peeled off as the afternoon June heat had settled over Horseshoe Bay. A leather cross-body bag that held her three and a half year old laptop teetered on the edge of sliding all the way down her arm as the queue in front of her began to move. Nancy absentmindedly took a step forward, signing off on an email with her thumb.

“Name for the order?” a gentle voice said, startling her. Nancy looked up and her heart jumped to her throat. She nearly dropped her phone, scrambling to pull her bag back onto her shoulder.

“Uh, Nance—” she mumbled, mouth dry. “Nancy, sorry, it’s Nancy.” Nancy shook her head, her eyes following the sharp lines of his jaw upwards, catching a glimpse of the small hoop in his left earlobe. The barista wore a black baseball cap that held back waves of dirty blonde hair and his blue sweater was pushed up to his elbows beneath his apron. She nearly forgot what she was going to order as she stood there—mouth parted as she stared unceremoniously at him.

“What can I get for you, Nance?”

“Nancy,” she corrected him, snapping her attention back to his eyes instead of watching how his hands flexed in anticipation for her order. His very pretty, very soft, blue eyes. “Can I get a tall dark roast, please?”

He licked his lips in concentration as he scribbled her name onto a cup and set it on the counter beside the cash register. “Dark roast for Nance, is there anything else I can get for you?”

“No, that’s all, thanks.” She felt heat prickle her cheeks. “And, it’s Nancy,” she said after a beat.

He hummed an affirmation. “Sure, $2.75.”

Nancy handed him a five dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

The corner of his mouth perked upward as he tried to hide a dimpled smile. “Next in line,” he said, nodding to the person behind Nancy as she moved out of the way.

A moment later another barista called out her order from the pick-up counter, “Dark roast for Nance!”

Nancy rolled her eyes as she stepped up to grab her coffee, Nance, written in surprisingly neat lettering. She stole a quick look at the barista, and maybe it was just her imagination, but she swore he had looked at her too, and Nancy felt a flutter in her stomach.

As she circled back towards the seating area to find a place to plug her computer in, she took a final look at his nametag. Ace . Nancy tucked that piece of information away for a later date—it might come in handy.

read more on ao3

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (11)

(aaaaaah thank you guys so much for all of the replies in the last one! I get so giddy reading them! Anyway, here’s chapter 11 of New Girl on the Block. I hope you all enjoy and please feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called Journal Entries!)

Ch.1 / Ch.10 / Ch.12  (Ao3)

Chapter 11: Aw~ You Really Do Care

Gentle breezes that swayed this way and that were always known for creating calming atmospheres. They blew through the wisps of your hair like a sweet kiss from nature and quietly stole your troubles from the deep sigh that you’d let out from finally getting fresh air. They weren’t supposed to harshly wrap around your limbs and torso, condemning you to a make-shift cage that was built to keep you paralyzed as you were carried through the air by a magical, maniacal, part-time villain. And this, Marinette decided, was going to be reason number forty-seven for why she hated Hawkmoth. He ruined the little things. Not only was she going to scowl at every autumn breeze from this moment on due to bitter memories, she was also reminded that she can’t even have a small lunch with friends between classes without getting blasted across the street. With all of the akumas centering around Dupont, she had hoped that her chances of getting ambushed would decrease, but that was apparently too much to ask for.

She’ll give Hawkmoth credit on one account, though: this was the first time she’d gotten caught up in an akuma while in civilian form since she transferred schools. Nevertheless, one time is still one too many, especially when this was bound to happen again sooner or later.

Marinette thrashed against Whirlwind’s hold, and although she didn’t put too much effort into it for the sake of subtlety, she could tell they weren’t going to budge. She needed to find another way to get down that wouldn’t alarm or anger the akuma. Maybe she could convince Whirlwind to get on the ground somehow.. But she already seemed on edge. What if she got aggressive? These akumas were never reasonable, and Marinette couldn’t turn her head to see if Felix and the others were out of range yet. 

Marinette held back a groan. Why did there have to be so many obstacles!

“I’m not seeing any ‘company buildings’.” Whirlwind remarked, frowning as she scanned over the city rooftops. “Where did you say they were again?”

“It’s- uhm -” Marinette faltered. She hadn’t expected to be addressed once they started moving. “It’s on the other side of town. If I remember correctly. You should be able to find one if you fly Northeast from here.”

Whirlwind perked up. “Oh, good! I must say, I’m quite impressed with your navigation skills. I barely know what ‘Northeast’ is, myself.”

Marinette forced a smile in response. The akuma wouldn’t think so highly of her if they knew that she was only pointing them in the opposite direction of the café. 

They started moving again, the fresh surge of wind almost making it difficult to breathe as they rushed over the rooftops. It reminded Marinette of the time she had to fight Santa Clause while standing on top of his weird, gizmo sleigh, except this time she didn’t have Tikki’s magic to protect her. 

Her eyes flicked to the streets below, a part of her wondering what would happen if she fell, another part of her wondering if that’s what she’d have to resort to to get out of this mess. 

Come on, Marinette, think! She told herself. Come up with an excuse! Something to get you on the ground. The company is.. Unground? You need to.. Go to the bathroom? Get your phone? You’re-

“Airsick!” She gasped. “I’m getting airsick!”

In hindsight, she probably should have thought the excuse through before blurting out her imaginary nausea- how would she escape once Whirlwind brought her to ground? Would she make another excuse to go inside? How would Marinette be able to slip away to go transform if she made it that far? -but it had a decent effect. Whirlwind immediately stopped, causing the winds behind them to burst forward. Marinette briefly wondered how fast they’d been going to create such a force when coming to an abrupt halt.

“What was that?” Whirlwind asked. “I couldn’t hear you over my winds.”

Marinette hesitated. This was her chance to change the excuse if she wanted to. Should she stick with her airsick story or change it? What would she change it to? Should she just wait for another opportunity to arise? But what if this was her only chance to escape?

“I-”

Before she could utter a word about landing, a silver staff flew past her, smacking Whirlwind right in the stomach. The akuma let out a yelp of surprise and pain as she was launched backwards, and the winds curling around Marinette’s arms and legs lost their holds. That might have been ideal.. had she not been dangling over five stories high in the air. 

A scream ripped itself from Marinette’s lungs as she plummeted towards the ground, her arms flailing for support that simply wasn’t there. All coherent thoughts spiraled out of control as the deafening winds rushed around her. This wasn’t part of the plan. She needed to stop falling- she needed to grab something. Were there people in the street? Were there cars below her? What was she going to land on? How close was the ground? Was she going to survive the hit? What was going to happen if she couldn’t help fight the akuma?

Ice cold terror gripped her pounding heart, and she shimmied in the air to look for witnesses should she transform. What other choice did she have? She couldn’t allow herself to die. The Ladybug miraculous was too important.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins, helping her panic with more “what if”s but giving her no solutions. What if someone saw her? What if Whirlwind saw her, giving Hawkmoth her identity? What if she hit the ground before she fully had time to transform? Everything was happening so slowly yet so fast all at once. Time was crawling as her mind raced, but in the blink of an eye, the grey strip that was the road grew five times as wide as it was before in her teary, blurred vision, and Marinette knew her time was running out. She needed to do something, and she needed to do it now.

“Tikki, spots-”

A grunt cut her off as she landed in a pair of leather-clad arms. They pulled her closer to the chest of her savior, who flashed her an all too familiar smirk. 

“Don’t worry, Miss.” Chat Noir said, hopping across a few cars while he carried her to safety. “I’ve got y- wait.”

His pace slowed, though not by much considering the circumstances, and he stared down at her with wide eyes. “Marinette?”

Although her mind was reeling from almost- you know -falling to her death, she wrapped her arms around his neck, a relieved smile spreading onto her lips. “Chat Noir. Right on time, as always.”

“I- What are you doing here? And why is your face all red?” He asked, bewildered. She didn’t blame him. It’d been a while since they saw each other on the battlefield, let alone in a place so far from her house or school with her face the color of a cherry tomato.

“I was having lunch with my friends, and there was a small accident in Chemistry class earlier.” She explained, glancing over Chat’s shoulder to make sure the akuma wasn’t following them. Aside from a few car alarms and faint police sirens, it was quiet. Whirlwind must have a slow recovery time. That was going to come in handy later.

Chat Noir stopped in a random alleyway and carefully set her back down on her own two feet. “You mean the friends from your new school?”

Marinette wobbled a bit and placed a firm hand on his shoulder to regain balance. Now that she wasn’t in imminent danger, the shock and adrenaline in her body seemed to be wearing off. It left her heart racing and her body shaking, but she’d fallen enough times to know that it would pass in a few minutes as well. (And wasn’t it sad that she could say that?)

“Those would be the ones.” She replied after a few deep breaths. “We got attacked as we were leaving, and I went to lure Whirlwind away from everyone. I didn’t count on her picking me up to leave.”

Chat Noir frowned, offering a soft rub on the back to help her relax. “I appreciate your tenacity, Princess, but you could’ve gotten seriously hurt! You need to leave the rescuing to us heroes.”

Marinette resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Felix had said the same thing back at the café, neither of them realizing the horrible irony that she was one of the heroes. Sometimes she just wanted to expose her identity to Paris simply so she could do her job as Ladybug in peace without any resistance. 

“Anyway, I actually wanted to ask you about your new school.” Chat Noir remarked, bringing her from her mullings.

Marinette gave him a questioning look. Wasn’t he supposed to be fighting the akuma right now? Whirlwind wasn’t going to stay down forever. He needed to stay focused on the task at hand, dang it! Or at least leave her alone so she could transform and tell him to focus as Ladybug!

“Where did you go, you mangy cat!” The akuma roared in the distance. “Come out and face me like a proper hero!”

Aaaand she’s up now. Marinette mentally sighed. It was going to be hard knocking her down again. With her winds protecting her, an ambush will be the only way to get close, and she’ll be expecting that now. Maybe she can find another way to get the folder-fan thing. (That’s what she assumed to be the akumatized object, anyway.)

“Woops,” Chat Noir muttered, his gaze flicking towards the sky. Woops would be right.

“That’s my queue to go.” He said, offering her another quick smile before taking out his staff. “Stay safe, Princess!”

His staff extended, which vaulted him into the air, and he disappeared onto the rooftops above, out of sight. 

Finally, Marinette thought. She was starting to wonder if he’d ever leave.

“Marinette!” As soon as the coast was clear, Tikki zipped out of her purse, flying around her holder with a worried look. “Are you alright? You didn’t get hurt, did you? That was too close!”

“I’m fine, Tikki.” Marinette assured with a soft smile. “See? I’m not even shaking anymore. I just hope we can defeat this akuma before next class period. You know how much Felix hates being late.”

Tikki giggled. “I think he’ll understand being a little late today.”

Marinette chuckled. “Tikki, spots on!”

Magic wrapped around her skin in a flash of bright light, creating her signature red and black-spotted costume. A smile graced her lips at the surge of power that washed over her body, and she threw her yo-yo towards the top of the rooftop. Now she was ready to face Whirlwind.

Her yo-yo pulled her onto the rooftop that Chat Noir stepped onto moments prior, but by the time she got up there, he was already blocks away and fighting against Whirlwind as best he could on his own. It.. wasn’t going well, but that served him right for wasting time while the akuma was vulnerable.

Nevertheless, Ladybug threw out her yo-yo again to swing in their direction. She still had to protect Paris, after all, and if she waited any longer, she might be fighting Whirlwind alone while trying not to look Chat Noir’s civilian self in the eyes. 

Hopefully she was underestimating him, because it only took half a swing for something else to stop her in her tracks. 

It was a cry. But not just any cry. Someone was calling out her name.

Her civilian name.

Ladybug’s arms flailed around as she stumbled onto another rooftop, and she looked to the streets below for the source. There should only be about four other people- aside from Chat -who knew her civilian self was in that area, and that fact had her begging that she’d heard something wrong. 

She should have known that she’d never be that lucky, though, despite her powers literally being based around life and luck. It took less than a second for her to spot a blonde boy in dark clothing running through the streets where she’d initially fallen as Marinette, and in all honesty.. she was stunned to see him. Not because she truly thought that the universe would be convenient for once, but because.. it was Felix. Not Claude or Allegra or Allan, who she’d certainly expected to be crazy enough to follow after her, but Felix. 

Felix who makes a point of avoiding people as much as possible because he supposedly hates them.

Felix who would usually rather stay home than go anywhere with the group at any time because he claims they are torture to be around.

Felix who had looked too terrified to even move right before she lured the akuma away from the café.

He was there, and he was searching for her. Not only that, he was desperately searching for her. Moving the debris that he could, looking through car windows, calling out her name multiple times- he was doing everything in his power to find her. And she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t extremely touched by the sight. Felix has helped her so much over the past month, but she’d always assumed that that was done out of the kindness of his own heart, not because he liked her, especially with how often he griped and grumbled about the trio dragging him to their group hangouts. Seeing him so worried now, though.. It almost made her smile despite herself. 

He really did care about them, didn’t he?

Ladybug shook her head and swung down to the street he was on. Whirlwind probably wouldn’t try to harm him purposely, but that didn’t mean the loose debris from the fight a few blocks down would magically avoid hitting him. She needed to get him to safety before the akuma realized that her second opponent had arrived.

“Sir, it’s not safe here.” She said as she landed behind him. “You need to come with me.”

Felix jumped out of his skin and whirled around. His expression was coated with terror and frustration, once again throwing Ladybug off. She’d never seen him this frantic before. 

“Oh, thank goodness.” He said after realizing who she was. “Please, I need your help. My friend- her name’s Marinette. She tried to lure the akuma to help us and got kidnapped! I tried to follow them, but they moved too fast. And then I saw her fall and-”

Recounting the events put him in a fresh state of panic, and he ran a hand through his hair as he scanned the streets once again. 

“I understand,” She replied softly, placing a hand on his shoulder to hopefully calm him down, “but I need to remain calm for me, okay? We’re going to clear the area, and then I’ll do everything in my power to find her.”

Felix’s gaze snapped to hers. “What? No, I don’t think you understand. She fell! She might be suffocating under the debris or critically injured in an alleyway or on a rooftop somewhere! We can’t just leave!”

Ladybug held back a smile towards his concern, as that would be wildly inappropriate at the moment, and reached down to pick him up. “I’m sure she would appreciate the sentiment, sir, but you being here makes our jobs harder. Please let us handle this. I’m sure she’s perfectly safe somewhere.”

“What are you-” Felix gasped as she scooped him up bridal style, and the mix of sheer outrage and bafflement that exploded onto his features once he realized what was happening made her wish that she had a camera. 

“Put me down this instant!” He demanded, scrambling in her hold. “I need to find Marinette!”

“We’ll do that,” Ladybug promised, “just as soon as I get you somewhere safe.”

Jumping over cars and weaving through alleyways, she managed to carry Felix a good few blocks away within five or ten minutes. He was strangely light for being so tall. Even as he continued to squirm in her grasp, she had no trouble lifting him to a sheltered and secluded area. 

“This is ridiculous!” Felix hissed, throwing himself off of her when she finally allowed him to do so. “What kind of hero ignores a person in need! Aren’t you supposed to save those injured by the akuma? Marinette could be out there dead while I’m perfectly fine, yet you waste time taking me somewhere I don’t want to go! Have some common sense and prioritize! Listen to what I’m telling you!”

Ladybug pursed her lips to avoid a sigh. If it weren’t for the fact that plenty of other people who were just like this made her job way more difficult than it already was, she would probably be laughing a bit towards the irony of his claims. “Sir, every life is a priority to us-”

A scream echoed in the distance, one that abruptly grew louder as the source grew nearer. Ladybug shifted into a fighting stance, but by the time she pulled out her yo-yo to use as a weapon, a blur of black was flying right past them. 

It landed hard in a dumpster near the end of the alleyway, a deep groan erupting from the surprise visitor a moment later. That fall clearly hadn’t been pleasant for whoever got thrown, and Ladybug had a pretty good idea of who that person was. Not many people got thrown around by akumas on a near-weekly basis.

“You okay, Chat?” She asked, putting away her yo-yo as she moved forward to help him up.

Her partner eyed her through a pained, squinted gaze while he rubbed the back of his head. “..My lady? When did you get here?”

She offered a smile and helped him sit up as she answered, “Only a few minutes ago. I was helping a civilian get to safety.”

Chat’s gaze slid to the spot over her shoulder, where she assumed Felix was standing, and a frown tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You’re here too?”

The question was more of muttered, but she heard it all the same, her eyebrows knitting together. What did he mean ‘too’? Did they know each other?

“I’m looking for my friend.” Felix spoke up, jumping at the opportunity to recruit another hero. It was probably for a good thing, since she didn’t want to think too much on who Chat did or didn’t know personally. “She was taken captive by the akuma while trying to protect us and fell from the air about twenty minutes ago. Have you seen her?”

Chat’s eyes widened, confusion and surprise swirling onto his features. Ladybug, for the life of her, couldn’t figure out why. Her alter ego had told him that she risked her life to save her friends. Minor surprise should have been the only reaction he had to that question. 

“Wait..” Her partner said with furrowed eyebrows. “Was this girl’s name Marinette?”

Felix straightened, hope rising to his silver eyes. “You know her?”

“I put her in an alleyway a few blocks from here.” Chat Noir answered, gesturing in the general direction. “She was a bit shaken up, but otherwise fine. How do you-”

“No time for chit-chat.” Ladybug interrupted. She wasn’t going to get trapped in another one of Chat Noir’s spiraling conversations. “We kind of have an akuma to take care of.”

Chat Noir pushed himself out of the dumpster, and although he looked reluctant to drop the subject, he nodded. “Right. I’m ready when you are.”

Ladybug gave a satisfied nod and turned back to Felix. 

“I know you’re worried for your friend,” She said, “but she’s safe. So I would greatly appreciate it if you went and hid until all of this was over. If you don’t, it’ll only make defeating Whirlwind harder.”

Felix frowned, clearly not on board with the idea, but he agreed anyway. “I’ll.. go back to the café. My other friends should be there waiting for us.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

Felix spun on his heel and started off in the opposite direction of Whirlwind, to her relief. With him out of the way, taking down Hawkmoth’s newest pawn should be a piece of cake.

“You ready, Chat?” 

Her partner didn’t respond, drawing her gaze over to him. He was staring at Felix with a quiet frown, watching the blonde walk away. Why did he look so troubled by the sight of the blond?

“Chat?”

This time his ears twitched, and he turned back to Ladybug with a questioning gaze. “Huh? Sorry, I got.. distracted.”

Ladybug tilted her head to the side slightly. “Are you sure you’re okay? You looked upset.”

Chat waved off the comment, plastering on a smile. “Nah, you know me, My Lady. I’m perfect, as always.”

She frowned. “If you’re sure.. I think I have a plan to beat the akuma. Are you ready?”

“You know I am.”

“Good. Then get ready to be the distraction.” She replied, quickly throwing her yo-yo into the air. “Lucky Charm!”

~~~~~~

Adrien ran through the Parisian streets, following the tip of their school building to find his way back. That akuma took longer than he thought it would. By the time he got back to class, it’d probably be over. 

So much for gaining more free time to go see Marinette. He thought, sparing a glance down the alleyway that he’d dropped her in as Chat Noir. It was empty now, as one would expect. LB’s miraculous ladybugs would have brought her back to where she was before the fight started. Even so, he couldn’t help feeling disappointed. It was the first time he’d seen her in almost two weeks as Adrien or Chat Noir, and possibly his only chance to talk to her for a long while. Tardiness at Dupont was pardoned when they got attacked by the akuma directly, but running off to video- or even capture -it wasn’t permitted. When Father saw his disciplinary marks, Adrien’s already tight schedule would no doubt coil around him even further. 

Adrien paused to catch his breath- running to school was so much easier as Chat Noir -and scanned the street for Alya. They needed to regroup before he got back to class or it might be suspicious on his part, since he specifically said that he was going to keep Alya safe. (Note to self: never use Alya as an excuse again.)

“Alya!” He called out. “Can you hear me?”

He’d wanted to go find that café that the blond guy from Rosemary mentioned, just to see if he could at least spot Marinette and maybe even catch her as Adrien, but Whirlwind ended up taking all of his free time. It was admittedly frustrating, being so close yet so far when it came to talking with her. They lived in the same city, for Pete’s sake! He should be able to drive over to her house and say hi without any struggle at all!

Speaking of which, what was with that blond guy? He totally lied about Marinette attending Rosemary! Unless they hadn’t met yet when Adrien first visited.. but that didn’t make any sense. He visited after Marinette said that she had her new friends come to her house, the same friends that were with her at the café. Meaning the blond guy. 

Adrien could give him the benefit of the doubt and say it was an honest mistake. Perhaps that guy really hadn’t met Marinette yet and she was referring to other friends that they were with. It did sound like she had a whole group now. Besides, why would the guy lie for no reason? People don’t usually do that. 

Either way, Adrien knew which school Marinette was at now, and that was all that mattered. His plan to go apologize could finally be put into action.

“Adrien?” 

A faint reply caught his attention, and Adrien glanced up to see Alya wandering around at the end of the street. 

“Is that you?” She asked, looking around for him as well.

Adrien put on a smile and waved his hand as he approached her. “Yeah, it’s me! Where did you go? I couldn’t find you!”

“I was trying to get a shot of the akuma, but by the time I got here, the fight was practically over!” She answered, spotting him a second later and moving to meet him halfway. “Where did you go? You disappeared in, like, the first five minutes! How did you get down here so fast?”

“Oh, uh..” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, nervousness crawling onto his features. He probably should have come up with an excuse for his absence before he tracked Alya down. “I decided to take a shortcut. I guess I should have told you?”

Alya scrunched up her nose. “A shortcut? I don’t remember any shortcuts around here.. Well, I’m sure there will be other chances to film akumas. It just stinks that I didn’t get to record the hostage situation. Did you happen to see who that was? It looked like a girl from where I was standing.”

“Sorry, Al.” Adrien said, offering a sheepish look. Chat Noir might know it was Marinette who fell, but he did not. “I got there after the hostage was rescued.”

Alya clicked her tongue, displeased. “Drat. Did you see anything interesting while you were out there?”

Define interesting. Adrien thought to himself. Finding Marinette and the blond who was looking for her in the same battle had been extremely interesting to him, but he doubted Alya would feel the same way. 

“She had a pretty cool costume.” He recounted as they started their way back to the school together. “It was all blue with a white cloak and this weird, spinning, white skirt thing. She also used a white and dark blue folder as a fan to control the wind. That ended up being the akumatized object, if I remember correctly-”

“Oh, hang on.” Alya cut in, switching to the memo on her phone. “Let me write this down for the blog. I got some of the footage, but it was grainy at best because of the distance. These details are great to add to it. Did you see anything else?”

Adrien thought over what he could tell her and what he should keep secret. Would he be able to know what the lucky charm was if he was watching from a random alleyway or behind a car?

“Not really.” He answered. Giving more information at this point might not end well for him if his lady followed the blog. She was too clever not to put things like that together. “You’re not going to name-drop me on the blog, are you?”

Alya shook her head. “No, no, you know I keep my sources a secret. It would lead other reporters to my scoops.”

“Right.” Adrien replied, relieved. Not only would name-dropping compromise his personal tips, it would also give people the opportunity to look for him through news footage and other things. He didn’t want anyone disproving the excuses that he’d given to Alya about his whereabouts. “That makes sense.”

Once she jotted down Adrien’s comments, Alya pulled out her phone to rewatch the footage. Although the image was being jostled around a bit from walking, he could still see how utterly grainy the video was. He could barely tell who was who, and he was one of the people who actually fought in the battle. The only reason he knew it was Ladybug snatching the akumatized object at the end was because she was the only one who had red pixels. 

“I would have just shot the scene without zooming in,” Alya said as she put the phone away, “but doing that made everyone look like specks. I hope Lila can clean it up for me.”

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows. “I didn’t know Lila edited videos.”

“Oh, she doesn’t.” Alya smiled. “She has an uncle who’s this big-time movie editor.”

Ah. Another famous uncle. He wondered if that was the same uncle who was supposed to be an incredible actor or the one that owned a humongous plaza. Gosh, did Lila even have any uncles in real life?

“You think he’s going to have time to do it?” He asked.

“Maybe not, but it couldn’t hurt to ask, right?” 

Adrien shrugged. No, it couldn’t hurt. At least not until Lila promises to get it to her uncle and then never gives the video back. How many false promises has she made now? There was the one where she said that she would get a gig for Nino, one to Alex about getting her this special, glow-in-the-dark spray paint, one to Max about getting some high-tech chip for Markov- She’d promised so many things that he couldn’t even remember most of them now! How long until those words buried her alive? How long until his classmates actually started demanding the fruits from her supposed labor? Were they just going to wait on her to deliver for the rest of their lives? 

Adrien heaved a small sigh. He would make them see reason eventually. He would.

But first he needed to pay another visit to Rosemary.

~~~~~~

Marinette pushed herself to go faster as she weaved through the different alleyways that led back to the café. Her legs were already aching from the fight that Whirlwind had dragged out, but she imagined the pain to be minor in comparison to how worried sick her friends probably were at this point. As a civilian, she should have made it back to the café about twenty minutes ago, give or take. If it weren’t for the multiple calls and messages asking if she was okay and her frantic responses that “yes, I’m fine, but please stay put till I get there”, then the group would probably be searching the streets for her right now. She would have stayed transformed to get back, but the fight drained all of Tikki’s energy. Marinette was lucky to have found an alleyway to even hide in before she de-transformed. 

Come on, come on, She thought, her gaze flicking left and right. I know it was around here somewhere- oh!

Marinette lit up at the sight of the café. She could see the group standing in front of it, huddled together and looking around to try and spot her. Felix was a step or two behind the trio with a deep frown on his lips and his arms crossed against his chest. His fingers tapped rapidly against his bicep, giving way to his nervousness towards her absence, and he glanced from side to side along with the others. His franticness from earlier appeared to be contained now, but still very much there. 

“Guys!” She called out, breaking into another sprint despite her body’s protest. She was going to have to grab an ice pack or two once she got home.

The group’s attention immediately snapped to her, and the trio practically sank to the ground with relief.

“Marinette!”

“Where have you been?!”

“We’ve been worried sick-”

They collided into her with a group hug, each sniffing and blubbering about not being able to find her. Claude was out right crying into her shoulder.

Marinette hugged them all back and apologized profusely, the guilt from upsetting them to this point twisting sharply through her stomach and heart. She couldn’t bear to see them this way, and the fact that this was inevitably going to happen again only made it worse. 

“I’m so sorry for making you worry.” She said, wiping away a tear of her own. “When Chat Noir save me, I was told to stay put till the fight was over, and-”

“No, don’t apologize.” Allegra interrupted with a watery smile. “We’re just happy you’re safe.”

A scoff brought their attention up to Felix, who was now standing next to them. 

“Don’t apologize?” He repeated, glaring at the other three in disbelief. “She almost got herself killed! Are we supposed to encourage that behavior?”

“She was trying to protect us.” Allan defended. “She was only doing what she thought was right.”

“And that’s supposed to make it better?” Felix countered. “She was reckless and idiotic! There were a million other ways to make it out of there safely without getting yourself kidnapped.”

“Hey, lay off!” Claude yelled, sounding surprisingly angry. “She’s been through a lot today already, so just leave her alone!”

“So, you’re willing to just let this slide?” Felix asked, growing agitated himself. “You’re telling me that as long as she dies out of the ‘goodness of her heart’, then it’s fine?”

“She didn’t die!”

“But she could have!” He shot back. “Doesn’t that bother any of you? What if the heroes didn’t get there in time? What if Whirlwind decided she didn’t care for civilians anymore before they even arrived? What would have happened if the miraculous cure couldn’t bring her back for some reason? There were too many variables that she didn’t know about and she went anyway. That’s not something that should be praised!”

Allegra shot him a glare. “Felix-”

“No.” Marinette interrupted, putting a hand on Allegra’s shoulder as the girl trailed off. “No, he’s right. I wasn’t thinking properly, and I jumped in with a plan that half-formed at best and didn’t look for other options until it was too late. I thought I was running out of time and panicked, but that’s no excuse.”

Marinette stepped forward, and Felix quietly stared at her in response. His eyebrows were still furrowed, the grief of the situation reflecting in his silvery blue eyes. She understood why he was angry and upset. She understood why he had that desperate look in his eyes as he tried to explain his displeasure towards her behavior. Felix was the only one to see her fall, after all. The only one to know how close to death she actually was. Seeing Chat Noir sacrifice himself over and over again helped her know exactly what that felt like.

She wanted to pull him into a hug, to tell him that everything was okay now and that she was okay now, but touch wasn’t exactly his thing. So she settled for something she knew was alright and lightly grabbed his hand.

“I really am sorry.” She apologized again. “I promise I’ll be more careful next time.”

Felix’s gaze softened slightly, and he shocked her by lightly squeezing her hand back. “I’d rather there not be a next time.”

Marinette offered a small, sheepish smile, knowing she couldn’t make that promise. She had too many responsibilities as Ladybug to stay away from akumas completely, but she could try to avoid them as a civilian. For his sake and the others’.

Allegra placed a gentle hand on Marinette’s back. “We should head back to the school. They don’t really give us lee-way for being late.”

“Well, they should today since we kind of got attacked,” Allan spoke up, “but I don’t quote me on that. Also, I’m calling my turn on driving Marinette.”

Allegra and Claude put a hand to their chests and gasped, both knowing that Allan hadn’t called a turn yet which made him automatically win. Marinette caught a smirk twitching onto Felix’s lips due to this fact, and she smiled with him, mainly because it was nice seeing him relax again.

“Oh no!” Claude said defiantly. “If you’re taking Marinette, then I’m gonna be riding with you too!”

“Same here!” Allegra agreed. “I’m not leaving her side until the teachers are forcing us to for our next classes.”

Marinette let out a small chuckle. “Is there enough room for that?”

“There is now.” 

Allan snorted. “Yeah, we’ll be fine. Our cars are pretty big.”

“Are you going to be riding with us too, Felix?” Allegra asked, glancing at the blond.

Felix’s hand tightened slightly around Marinette’s, but he shook his head. “No, I.. I think I’m gonna drive back alone.”

Claude frowned. “Seriously? After that whole rant you made two seconds ago?”

“Aw, let him be.” Allan said, waving off Claude’s comment. “It’s just more Marinette for us, right?”

Although the frown remained, the brunette made a half-shrug. “I guess that’s true..”

“Cool.” Allegra smiled. “Then I call the seat next to Marinette!”

“What!” Claude scoffed, whirling back to Allegra. “You can’t do that!”

“I just did.”

“Technically,” Allan cut in, “I should get to sit next to her, since I’m the one driving her.”

Allegra and Claude both shot him a glare, bringing out a giggle from Marinette. They did not seem to appreciate Allan’s accurate logic. 

Her gaze shifted to Felix, who was silently watching the trio bicker. His expression was neutral again, composed, but the way he continued to hold onto her hand told her that he wasn’t quite alright yet.

“So..” She said, almost awkwardly. Should she try to make him feel better? “I guess I’ll.. see you at school?”

Felix’s eyes flicked to her, and she mentally slapped herself for even speaking. “See you at school”? What kind of dull question was that?

“Yes.” He answered. The response was shorter than usual, but she’d try not to overthink it, since the last hour has been a long one for all of them. That’s probably why he decided to drive back alone in the first place. 

Allegra cut into the conversation by looping her arm with Marinette’s and pulling her towards Allan’s. The movement was quick and sudden, and it caused her hand to slip out of Felix’s in the process. She glanced down at her palm, curious at the sense of emptiness that immediately swept over it. It was as though she hadn’t been ready to let go herself. 

Marinette looked back to Felix to see if he felt it too, but his back was already turned to her as he walked back to his own car.

Huh. 

Maybe it was just her. 

Tag List:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything  @magnificentcrapposts  @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester

[myhockeyworld87]

Bubble Wrapped - Part 14

Word Count: 3,417

POV: Reader

Warnings: Same as always, Language, Smut, NSFW, Please see the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning, Pens, Jackets, Canes, Islanders

Notes: Well, here we are onto another part of Bubble Wrapped. When we last left this story, our reader had just had a magical date with Matt Barzal. Will she stick with him of go looking for someone new to hook up. So I’m hoping the wrap this story up in a couple more parts. As always feedback is greatly appreciated and wanted…hahaha! Luv ya all!! Happy Reading to all! Also sorry for posting this late. I’ll queue for tomorrow afternoon as well.

As soon as you said goodbye to Mat, you checked on how things were going at the hotel. Tomorrow would be another hectic day as the Canes would be moving out and the Islanders moving in, and you wanted to make sure everything was in order. By the time you got up to the suite, both Dougie and Svech were already upstairs in their room, though you found Joel over at the bar pouring himself a dram of one the most expensive whiskeys you had.

 “Don’t worry, you can bill me or I’ll have a bottle shipped here to replace it,” he said before taking a healthy swallow of the strong spirit.

 “I’m not worried about it. Pour me one if you don’t mind.”

 “Really? Never took you for a whiskey girl.”

 “My father taught me to appreciate it,” you told him taking the glass he offered, then sipping the amber liquid. “And well, this is something that should be appreciated. Sorry about the game.”

 “I’m not sure you are.”

 “And what does that mean exactly?”

 Joel eyed you suspiciously. “Please after that little scene downstairs. I’m sure you’ll be happy to be rid of us.”

 You knew that he had seen you with Mat. That he was taking it like this stunned you, for honestly, you thought Svech would be more of a problem than Joel. Taking a deep breath and exhaling it, you attempted to explain. “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Joel. We never promised anything or talked about anything more after that one night.”

 “I didn’t think we had to,” he said rather harshly, and you gave him a look of warning to keep it down knowing that Dougie and Svech were upstairs. “When you share something like we did, it sort of speaks for itself.”

 “Apparently, it doesn’t.” The look of hurt on his face sent a horrible twist in your gut. “I’m sorry Joel. I didn’t think that it was anything more than just a one-time thing for you.”

 He downed the rest of his whiskey, his fingers almost white as he gripped the crystal. “I guess that’s all it was for you.” You knew you’d been playing a dangerous game with these men. Which is why when you were with Mat tonight, you thought you needed to end it. This bubble would be over soon, and you knew you had some decisions to make.

 “I don’t know what you want me to say. You never asked me out. Mat did. It’s as simple as that.” You knew that really wasn’t a valid explanation but it was all you had. “Maybe if this,” you said motioning between the two of you. “Happened at a different time or a different place, but it didn’t.”

 His shoulders sagged and you could see the defeat not only from the game but you as well, in his eyes. “And now I’m leaving in the morning.”

 “Unfortunately, you are.”

 He released the glass, and moved from behind the bar, walking so that only inches separated the two of you. “Well, if you ever change your mind, let me know.” He grabbed your waist and hauled you close to his body before his lips came down on yours. The kiss was hard and punishing, one meant to leave a lasting impression and it did. There was part of you that just wanted to melt into him, but then you pushed him back, knowing that it wasn’t right when you had feelings for another. Well more than one person actually, and to throw someone else in the mix wasn’t right. “Goodbye, (Y/N).” With that he headed upstairs, leaving you to wonder if you’d ever see him again.

 You grabbed the glass of whiskey and downed the rest of its contents. The taste of the expensive alcohol lost on you. You stood by the bar wondering how the hell you’d gotten yourself in this predicament. For years you’d watched the bachelor or bachelorette wondering how their feelings could be so torn between two people in so little time. Now, you found yourself with that same dilemma. Your heart was already torn by three men and now it ached for Joel, though not in the same way it did for the other guys. You headed to your room, locking the door behind you. The last thing you needed was Svech coming to your door in the middle of the night.

 Sleep came easily, and by the time you woke in the morning the men were all packed and ready to go. You bid them all farewell, noting a hint of sadness in both Joel and Andrei, though you pushed it away and went on with your day. By the afternoon, thoughts of the Canes were starting to dwindle as you worked towards moving the New York based team into the hotel. You saw Mat wink at you, as room assignments were given, and butterflies started to churn in your stomach.

 They had a game that night, so you didn’t expect to see Mat at all. The knock on your door that evening was a surprise, and you barreled down the stairs to answer it. “Do you always answer the door in nothing but a t-shirt?” Mat asked.

 “Um…No. I actually forgot this was all I had on. I was just getting ready for bed, but I can go change.”

 “No. Don’t. I wasn’t complaining,” he told you as he finally stepped inside, and kissed your cheek. “Hope it’s not too late?”

 “It’s not.” It was then that you realized your hair was thrown up in a messy bun and you had absolutely not one drop of makeup on your face. “I’m just surprised you’re here after moving in and playing tonight. I thought you’d be exhausted.”

 Mat simply shrugged. “Not really, kind of keyed up from the win. Did you watch?”

 You had of course, but you were also watching the Stars and Tyler, or at least you had been until Mat knocked on your door. “Of course, you played well.” He had even though he didn’t score.

 “Thanks, I didn’t mean to bug you,” he told you glancing around the suite and taking everything in. “I just wanted to stop by and see you for a minute. You know…now that I’m in the building and all.”

 The two of you were standing at the door still somewhat awkwardly. Why did this man make you so nervous all of the sudden? “You’re not bugging. Did you want to stay for a while?”

 Mat had his hands in his pockets, almost as if he was trying to keep them from pulling off what little clothes you had on. “I’d like that.”

 “Have a seat. I’m just going to run upstairs, turn off the tv, and uh….” You motioned down to your attire or lack thereof. Mat stopped you though, right as you made a move to leave.

 “Seriously (Y/N), don’t change.” His hands went to your hips and he drew your body close to his. “You look sexy as hell like this, and that’s me telling you the truth. I’m not trying to make a move or something. We can just cuddle on the couch for a bit.”

 Your arms looped around his neck, enjoying the feel of his thick muscles there. “Ok.” You kissed him then, just sweet and tenderly, half hoping that it would turn into more, but Mat pulled away before that could happen and led you to the couch. He pulled you down onto his lap, curling your body into his.

 “I thought about this all day.” He confessed.

 “Did you?”

 “Mmmhmm.” His large hands began to caress your skin and you felt yourself melting into him. “So, what were you watching.”

 “I just had whatever game was on.”

 “Oh, watching the competition huh? Should I be worried?”

 “Maybe a little,” you teased though only partly considering you did have feelings for Tyler.

 “Oh, ok,” he scoffed a little. “Hand me the remote and let me see who my competition is.” It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you found yourself giving him the control to turn on the game.  The Stars were playing Calgary that night, in what appeared to be their final game of the series if the score was any indication. “Tell me you’re not talking to Tkachuk?” Mat seemed almost offended at the idea.

 “He’s a little young for me.” Matthew Tkachuk was older than Svech, though not by much. Had the opportunity ever presented itself you may have fallen in bed with the curly-haired forward, but couldn’t see anything lasting with him.

 “He’s not that much younger than me, but I like that he’s not on your radar. So, let me see who else do we have here.” You could see him watching each line change and knew that you needed to deter him before he guessed Tyler and you’d end up giving yourself away. “Is it Hanifin? He’s a year younger than me I think.” You grabbed the remote and clicked off the television. “Hey, what’d you do that for?”

 “Because I’m not going to spend all night having you guess about someone that isn’t here in this room with me.” You threaded your fingers through the longer locks at the nape of his neck. “Especially when we could be doing so many other things.” You pulled his mouth down on yours, kissing him hard and letting him know what you really wanted now that he was here.

 Mat read your cue perfectly. His tongue swept in and took control, ravaging your mouth and stealing you of your senses. He cupped both of your cheeks, practically fusing your lips to his in a breath-stealing kiss. The two of you stayed like that for some time, neither of you making a move to take it any further, but then you felt his hand slide down to your neck and over your back. The move was subtle and gentle, and Mat’s warm hand on your back had you leaning in even closer to his body; wanting and needing more. Before you knew it, you found yourself shifting, so that you straddled his hips.

 Mat’s hands stole under the hem of your shirt, to cup the globes of your ass, and a gasp left your lips causing the two of you to break apart. “I promised myself I wouldn’t take things this far tonight,” Mat whispered, his breathing harsh.

 “That’s a pretty big promise to make without even consulting me,” you teased, peppering him with kisses.

 “I just don’t want you to think that I’m only here for sex.” The look on his face, had you pulling back. “I meant what I said last night when I told you I want more.”

 You sat back on your haunches, still straddling him and feeling his erection growing. “I know Mat. Look, I can’t promise you anything…” His wounded puppy dog eyes were slowly killing you. “Yet. I still need time to think.”

 “I understand.” You weren’t entirely sure he did, for he looked like a lost puppy.

 “I can make you one promise though.” You tilted his chin up, which had fallen down in dejection moments ago. “While we’re here in Toronto, I won’t be with anyone else but you.”

 The sadness in his eyes left, replaced by a sparkle of hope. “That’s all I can ask.” Mat kissed you then, his tongue invading your mouth, swirling with yours. This time when his hands went to the hem of your shirt they didn’t stop until he had it off of your body, leaving you clad in nothing but a lacy thong. “God, you’re beautiful.” His hands glided up your sides until they reached the undersides of your breasts. He cupped them both, squeezing and kneading the flesh in his hands, as your back arched into his palms. Mathew’s lips traveled down your collarbone, only stopping once he had one nipple between them. You moaned into the room, clutching at his scalp as he sucked and nibbled on the little peak.

 Your hips started to rock back and forth against Mat’s, feeling his erection grow against you. “Where’s the bedroom?” Mat hissed out lifting both of your bodies off the sofa. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively. “I’m not taking you on some couch again.”

 You softly chuckled at him. “Upstairs, on the right.” He was taking the stairs two at a time as if you weighed no more than a feather. You clutched at his neck dropping kisses to his face and collarbone along the way. Once he entered your bedroom, he slammed the door shut. “No one else is here…” You meant to tell him that there was no need to shut the door, but then he pinned you against it, his hips thrusting into yours and you moaned out.

 Mat kissed you long and hard, stealing your breath away. You could feel yourself growing wet with desire as your tongues mated together, mimicking what your bodies wanted to do. Mat finally pulled away, his eyes darting around the room in search of the bed. Once he located it, he carried you over to it, laying you down gently while his body hovered over yours. “You’re so damn beautiful.” You reached for him then, bringing his lips to yours, just needing to kiss him again. Mat’s kisses were intoxicating. They made you feel as if they were only meant for kissing you and damn if that didn’t feel amazing. But then they were gone, though still on your body making their way down to your breasts, before continuing on to your core.

 He slid your panties off and spread your legs, as he dropped kisses all around your pussy, evading that one place you yearned to have him kiss. Mat stripped off his shirt before kneeling in front of you and sliding you to the edge, so he could work his way up your inner thigh. You leaned up on your elbows watching, as a smirk crossed his face; a devilish grin transforming him into a kid that had been caught opening his Christmas presents early, right before his lips found your clit. “Ooohh,” you moaned out, your head falling back and your arms trembling with an effort to hold your upper body up, as his mouth did unholy things to you.

 “You like that baby?” Mat asked and you could feel him grinning against your cunt. His tongue flattened against you before you could answer and all you could do to reward him was moan out his name. You fell back against the bed, your hands clutching at the bedsheets, as he pushed his tongue deep inside you.

 “Fuck,” you hissed out, one hand threading into his locks and encouraging him to continue. His tongue was like magic, as he licked and sucked at your core. You couldn’t help your hips lifting up into him, as sensation after sensation started to rip through your body. Mat held you down with one strong arm across your midsection, still working his mouth over you. Pressure from his splayed hand on your mons rocketed through your body and you thought you were going to explode then and there, but then Mat dipped his finger inside you, only in to his first knuckle while he lapped at your clit. You were teetering on the edge, ready to break at any second but Mat wasn’t ready for that just yet. He removed his finger, coated with your wetness, and spread it all over your pussy.

 “You’re so damn wet, baby. Do you know what that does to me? How hard it makes me.” Fuck you loved it when he said things like this. His finger dipped back inside, this time all the way and you groaned out at how good it made you feel. He pumped it in and out of you a few times before adding another. “You’re so tight. Gotta get you ready for my cock, baby.” God, you wanted it. You wanted him to just thrust his dick inside you and fuck you for the rest of your time in the bubble. Maybe it was your hips thrusting into his hand or maybe Mat was just taking pity on you, but the next thing you knew his tongue was back on your clit and you were shattering beneath him. Your pussy convulsing around his fingers as they worked you through your orgasm.

 Mat gave you a second to recover, ridding himself of the rest of his clothes as you caught your breath. When you finally did, you made your way up the bed a little more, Mat chasing you as he hovered over your body. He kissed you, as you sunk back against the pillows; tasting yourself on his lips. His cock nudged at your entrance, and you bent your knees to give him easier access into you. Mat took his time sliding into you, letting you feel every inch of his cock. When he was buried balls deep inside you, he moaned into your mouth, loving how your pussy clenched around him. You hooked one of your legs around his hips so that he pressed even deeper into your core, only then did he release your lips. “Are you trying to kill me?” All you could do was grin up at him before he flexed his hips and started to move. You were lost then, floating on a cloud that pushed you closer to that slice of heaven that seemed to only be found when he was inside you.

 The two of you moved as one, and all that could be heard in your bedroom was the sound of your bodies coming together mixed with your moans. Mat couldn’t control himself, he knew he was close to climaxing inside you, yet he pushed himself to bring you to that brink with him; driving into you with a force he knew that would bring you pleasure. When he couldn’t take it any longer, he wedged his hand between your bodies and rubbed your clit, with the right amount of pressure that drove you wild. That was all it took. Your back arched, your legs trembled, and your pussy quivered around him as the orgasm hit you. At the first sign of you cumming, Mat was done, so far gone in his own climax he couldn’t think straight.

 His body still shivered from the force of the orgasm, as he rolled to his side taking you with him. You laid there staring into his eyes as he gazed back at you. “Can you stay or do you need to go back to your room?”

 “Oh, I can stay, as long as you want me.” His hand was idly stroking your hair as you drew lazy circles on his chest, so content and at peace just being there with him.

 “Of course, I want you to stay.” There was nothing you wanted more than to lay just like this in his arms for the rest of the night and into tomorrow. You felt him get a bit more comfortable, shifting you ever so slightly so that your head was now on his chest where you could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

 “Well, then it looks like you got me.” You didn’t need to look at him to see the smile on his face. It was the same one that graced yours.

 As you lay there listening to Mat’s heartbeat you could feel yourself drifting off. “We should set the alarm,” you mumbled. “My phone is on the nightstand.” Mat grabbed it and went to hand it to you, but you were too sated to be bothered. “Just set it for whatever time you need up at.”

 Mat looked at the phone then and noticed the two missed calls and a voicemail there, both from the same number. He looked down at you resting on his chest, almost asleep. He should tell you, he really should, but then that ugly green-eyed monster reared its head and he found himself deleting both the calls. He waited until you were in a deep enough sleep before listening to the voicemail. He knew it was wrong but he couldn’t stop himself. Mat now knew Tyler was his competition and there was no way he was going to let him win this game, even if it meant he had to play a little dirty.  

[blu-joons]

BTS Reaction: You Bump Into Your Ex

Jin:

You froze when you came face to face with your ex, he had a smile on his face, standing taller than Jin, looking down at him and judging him. “So, this is the boy that stole your heart? He’s not quite what I imagined.”

“What did you imagine?” You asked him.

“Me,” he chuckled, shaking his head at Jin, “you always liked a bit more of a manly man.”

“I’m happy with Jin, thank you,” you sighed, taking a step aside from him, walking straight past him, holding Jin’s hand.

He looked at you with a wide smile on his face, seeing you quickly defend him made his heart fill with love. “You should have seen the look on his face when we walked away.”

“There was no way I was going to let him look at you and judge you like that, I’ve moved on from our relationship, maybe it’s about time he does the same,” you laughed.

He squeezed onto your hand, “no one’s ever defended me like that before, it was really nice to have you stand up for me like that.”

“Of course, I was going to stand up for you, and us, you’re my boyfriend now, not him,” you smiled, leaning across to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I am so lucky to have you in my life.”

Yoongi:

You spotted your ex across the road as the two of you walked down the high street, quickly you crossed across the road with Yoongi so that you couldn’t see him. “Let’s go into that shop, there’s someone I don’t want to see.”

“Who don’t you want to see?” He questioned.

“My ex,” you told him, subtly pointing him out, “he still messages me from time to time.”

“He does!” He yelled, turning to face you, “why didn’t you tell me that he was still messaging you, I can stop him.”

Your head shook, you were strong enough on your own. “I don’t ever reply to him if that’s what you’re worried about, I don’t have anything to do with him, ever.”

“Does he know about me?” He asked you, sighing in relief as your head nodded, “then why doesn’t he get the message and just clear off so that you can be happy.”

Your shoulders shrugged, “he still thinks there’s a chance sometimes for us to get back together, he always was a bit of a fantasist.”

“Lucky for you, you’ve got me now,” he teased, “and even though you are beyond my wildest dreams, I’ll always be better than him.”

“You’re much better, don’t you worry.”

Hoseok:

You hated going out with Hobi by your side, it was one of the things you loved about being in a relationship, the company, having someone to talk to. “Y/N?” A voice called out as you joined the queue in the current store.

“Hi,” you sighed, turning around, seeing your ex.

“All alone,” he quickly noted, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk, “that’s not good.”

“My boyfriend is busy,” you told him, spinning on your heels away from him, but he quickly chased after you.

He caught up, clearing his throat, “don’t go lying to me that you’re in a relationship so that you can get me away from you. No one would ever be good enough for you like I was.”

“I am very happy in my relationship, thank you. He’s successful, and travelling the world, something you never were,” you teased, showing him the bracelet, he’d bought you on your wrist.

His eyes rolled as he looked down at it, “I still think you could do better, like me, no one will ever love you like I loved you.”

“They will because that’s exactly what Hobi does right now. If you don’t mind, I’ve got better things to do than stand and talk to you,” you smugly told him.

“You’ll come back to me one day Y/N!”

Namjoon:

He’d clocked you before you had chance to walk away, barging into Namjoon’s side as you walked by, you looked across, sighing when you realised who had done it. “I thought you liked a strong guy Y/N, you’ve changed.”

“What do you want?” You spat back at him.

“Nothing,” he laughed, turning his nose up across at Namjoon. “So, this is who you moved onto.”

“You’re the ex,” Namjoon chuckled, looking him up and down, “Y/N’s told me a lot of stories about you.”

His eyes rolled, “has she told you what a magical relationship we had? Told you how I treated her like an absolute queen? Not that she ever actually appreciated what I did for her.”

“Not quite, but she has told me how rude and controlling you were,” Namjoon responded, squeezing your hand, “she’s lucky to have someone who finally treats her right.”

Your ex roared in laughter, “if this is what you want to settle with Y/N, be my guest, but just know you won’t ever find a man like me again.”

“I don’t want a man like you again, Namjoon is twice the man you ever were,” you pointed out to him, “I am a very lucky girl to have him.”

“And I’m very lucky to have her too.”

Jimin:

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket, pulling out your phone you saw yet another text from your ex, he’d just broken up with his girlfriend, and now he was falling back on you. “He honestly does not want to leave me alone.”

“Is it him again?” Jimin asked you.

“Look,” you frowned, handing your phone across for him to read the message, “it’s strange.”

“It’s not fair,” he sighed, handing the phone back to you, “why don’t I tell him to clear off, that you’re unavailable now.”

Your shoulders shrugged, looking over at him, “I want to believe that he wants my help, but I know he’s only doing this because he wants me back, but I’m with you instead.”

“Tell him, let him know where he stands, he might think he can walk back into your life and fall back in love with you, but that won’t happen,” he pointed out to you.

You nodded, dropping your phone onto the sofa, “I’m just going to ignore it, I don’t need to speak to him, he’s got plenty of other people he can speak to instead.”

“Don’t do that just because of me, I know you’re a good person, and you want to help him,” Jimin spoke, taking a tight hold of your hand.

“No, he’s not my problem anymore.”

Taehyung:

A knock at the door disturbed the two of you at dinner, you stood away from the table, walking over to open the door, stunned when you saw your ex staring back at you. “It’s not a bad time, is it Y/N? I wanted to see you.”

“I’m busy,” you told him, trying to shut the door.

“Who is it?” You heard Taehyung call through, trying to close the door and return to dinner.

“Not so fast,” he replied, putting his foot into the door to stop you shutting it. “All I want is to be able to talk.”

Your head shook, “I don’t want to talk to you, I’ve not spoken to you in months,” you sighed, trying your hardest to force the door to shut and to get him to leave your home.

“What’s going on?” Taehyung called through once again, he stood up, walking to the front door where he found you trying to shut the door on him.

Your ex smirked, “I see. You’ve got a new boyfriend to step up and protect you. Let me introduce myself mate, I’m the better, former boyfriend, the best she ever had.”

“The best she ever had is going to move his foot and let us shut the door before I call the police,” Taehyung warned him, kicking his foot away from the door.”

“I’ve never seen you so intimidating before.”

Jungkook:

Your heels spun quickly, walking out of the coffee shop when you saw your ex sat at one of the tables, it had been too long since you’d last seen him, and now, you had Jungkook. “I’m not thirsty anymore Kook.”

“What’s changed?” He asked, as you walked back to the car.

“My ex,” you bluntly responded, climbing into the driver’s seat, “he’s caused me too much trouble.”

“Don’t let him stop you,” he tried to argue with you, sitting in the car too, turning to face you, “be strong.”

Your head shook, “you don’t understand, I’ve had so many messages from him, pleading for a second chance, I don’t want any interaction with him at all.”

“But I’m with you, he’d be a brave man to dare come near you with me by your side,” he reminded you, intertwining his hand with yours.”

You smiled softly, “maybe you’re right. I’ve moved on, and I can’t let him stop me from doing the things that I want to do, even buying a coffee.”

“Just keep your head high, and don’t look at him,” he encouraged as you got out of the car, “and I’ll always be holding your hand, like always.”

“Good, I’m glad I’ve got you.”

---

Masterlist

[hanniiesuckle17]

Stray Kids Reaction: Going Clubbing with S/o

A/n: not requested officially but one of my mooties was talking to me about it so ! also my last reaction was really angsty so this is just something fun (GIFS ARE NOT MINE! Credit goes to their amazing creators) 

(not thoroughly edited sryyy)

Warnings: mild cussing?, drinking, slightly suggested content

Tag List: @distrikt9​ @mini-meanhoe​ @poeticallyspaghetti​ @hanstagrams​ @desertofdessert​ @yangomangos​ @hoes4hoseok​ (General Tag List is Open!)

Bangchan:

Chan bopped his head along to the loud music as he waited for you to return from the restroom. “Hi, my friend and I saw you from across the way. Are you with someone by chance?” A pretty girl asked, coming up to him. Her painted nails brushed over the skin of his arm. 

“Umm...yeah. I am actually.”

This was the one part about going dancing with you that Chan didn’t like. The moment you left the table, a girl, or sometimes a fan would come up to him and try and get him to come home with them. Chan loved his fans more than anything, but when it came to someone trying to come between you and him he wouldn’t stand for it.

“My friend could use a date as well. Is your friend as handsome as you?”

Chan sighed and looked in the direction you had left in. “Actually, I’m here with my girlfriend.” The girl scoffed and motioned her friend over, who sashayed and sat in your seat at the bar. 

“A guy as attractive as you can’t just be tied down to one person!” Her friend exclaimed, gently pushing Chan’s shoulder in a flirty way.

“Sorry, but that’s the only way I do it.” He looked up to see you walking towards him. “Hey, baby girl!” He said wrapping an arm around you and kissing your cheek. You kissed him right back, patting his cheek.

“Hi, sorry. Have we met?” The girls eyed you up and down before walking away. The two of you laughed and you leaned down to kiss him again. “So, that’s why we haven’t been out clubbing in a while.” Chan smiled at you, taking a sip from his drink. “You know I always forget why until we go out.”

Chan only looked at you. It was that look that made you feel like you were the only girl in the club. The only girl in the world. “Dance with me?” He watched you nod, teeth dragging across your lip. 

Chan and you danced until your feet hurt and you were out of breath from jumping around to the DJ’s tracks. About one in the morning the two of you left the club, your heels in one hand and the other being held by your boyfriend. He goofily swung your hands as you walked down the street.

“That was SO much fun!” You cheered making him laugh. He laughed even harder when you tried to jump around and ended up wincing from the pain in your feet. 

“Piggyback?” 

Chan was already crouched down in front of you, his arms reaching back. Who were you to refuse? You carefully jumped on Chan’s back and wrapped your legs around his waist, arms holding tight around his shoulders. The two of you giggled as you walked to the subway station. You sat in his lap on the train planning the next time you two would go out.

“We should bring Felix next time!” You said patting his shoulder in excitement.

“Why?”

“So if people bother you, you can pretend to be foreigners! That’s such a good idea!”

“Baby, I think you are a little drunk.”

Minho:

“Name?” The bouncer asked, looking at his clipboard.

Minho’s right arm stayed glued around your waist as he reached for his wallet. Though most of his face was covered by a mask, his eyes twinkled as he showed the man his ID. He immediately let us through, telling us to enjoy our time. 

“Your name really does open doors.” You said holding onto your boyfriend. He laughed at your joke and pulled down his mask as you entered the club. The two of you had been looking forward to going out for so long. The boys were between comebacks so now was the opportune time. 

“Drinks or dance first?” He asked, surveying the lively venue. Lasers were bounding off the walls and loud EDM music was being played by a DJ. Taking his hand you led him onto the dance floor. He grinned at your choice. “Ah, a woman after my own heart.”

He goofily spun you around, before his hands fell on your hips, pulling your back to his chest. The two of you danced for a good hour. Minho loved to show off in front of you even if it meant drawing attention to himself. When one of his songs came on you would both look at each other and cheer, before bursting out and doing the dance. 

He smiled, watching you dance along to his choreography. The two of you had sweat beading on your foreheads by the time you made your way off the dance floor. Minho pulled you in for a heated kiss before you reached the bar. “I’m having so much fun!”  He said against your lips. 

“Me too!” 

Your boyfriend maneuvered you through the crowd, making sure no one bumped up against you. At the bar, he ordered your drinks and bopped along to the music with you. Your conversation was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder.

“Oh my gosh! It is you!” A girl shrieked, covering her mouth. “You’re Lee Know from Stray Kids!” He gave her a kind smile and nodded, looking over to you. You were used to this happening. “Can we get a picture?” He nodded and motioned for the girl and her friend to come closer to him. 

“Babe, could you take the picture?” 

You smiled, taking the girl’s phone and snapping a couple pictures. The girls both gave Minho huge hugs. You loved watching him with his fans. The other leaned over to you while her friend talked to Minho. “You are so lucky!” She said over the music. 

After a few minutes the girls returned to their group leaving Minho and you alone. “Back to dancing?” He asked dowing the rest of his drink. You cheered grabbing your glass from off the bar. 

The two of you danced until the DJ physically had to ask you to get off the floor because the club was closing. Minho wrapped a tired arm around you as the two of you walked, looking for a taxi. “We should go back next weekend.” He said, looking up at the night sky.

“There’s a new nightclub opening this Thursday, we could go then. I heard they are doing a blacklight rave for the opening!” 

“Oh, we are so going to that!”

Changbin:

You and Changbin were still in the very early stages of your relationship. The two of you had passed the honeymoon phase and were now entering the ‘chicken’ part of the relationship. You were ready to get serious with Changbin and so was he. However, in this part of the relationship neither of you wanted to seem like a boring dud so when an activity was suggested (no matter how out of your comfort zone) you both agreed to it, not wanting the other one to think you were the boring one. 

The music pumped through the speakers at an earsplitting volume. How did you end up here? That’s right. Felix and Minho wanted to go dancing at this brand new club that had opened down town. It was supposed to be this crazy new clubbing experience and the boys were excited to go try it. Changbin turned to you after they invited both of you.��

“Clubbing?” He asked hesitantly. Clubbing wasn’t necessarily your style. You would more likely prefer to be at home with Changbin with a pizza, he seemed up for it. (He was in fact not up for it. He wanted nothing more than to go to a chill movie with you that night.) The two of you shared a hidden strained look, scanning for any sign that the other was wanting to do anything but this.

“Sure!” Both of you said. Felix and Minho cheered high fiving each other. Little did you know, as you both looked away from each other, looks of regret were on both of your faces. 

You were awkwardly dancing next to Changbin smiling at his goofy moves. Every now and then he would pull you closer, wanting to dance with you but Felix or Minho would join in and ruin the moment. Changbin was a fantastic dancer and it seemed he could go for ages. (He could not in fact go for ages. He wanted you to think he had good stamina. He was literally gasping every time you looked away.)

“You want to get a drink?” You leaned into him, shouting over the music. He nodded, hand on the small of your back, leading you to the bar. Finally, the two of you made it to the bar, finding an open seat for you to sit down in. Your feet were killing you. “What do you want to drink?” You asked, holding his hand.

“Ummm...I’ll just do a beer.” He shrugged his shoulders, smiling at you. (Lie. He wanted one of those sweet colorful drinks with fruit on the rim and a swirly straw.) You ordered for the two of you and smiled feeling Changbin’s lips press to your cheek. “Are you having fun?” He asked, trying to hide the strain in his smile as you sipped on your drinks.

“Yeah!” You nodded, looking out into the club. Changbin was nodding his head to the music. He looked like he was enjoying himself, but you couldn’t do this anymore. “Actually,” He turned, giving you his full attention. “I’d rather be anywhere else right now.” 

His eyes widened and you were surprised when he laughed and started dragging out of the club. “Thank goodness! Let’s get out of here. I want cheap pizza.”

You grinned holding tight onto his hand. “Yes! Cheap pizza sounds awesome!”

Hyunjin:

Half the fun of going clubbing with Hyunjin was waiting in the line outside. It was usually cold, so his arms were wrapped tight around you as you patiently and slowly moved forward in the queue. Hyunjin always made the most boring things in life fun. In fact, you loved waiting in lines with him. 

“But, yeah, she totally stole the first eight paragraphs of my thesis.” You said, shivering in Hyunjin’s arms. 

“That bitch.” You smiled up at his dramatic reaction. The two of you shuffled forward almost at the front of the line. You noticed a few people across the street staring at you, some with phones in their hands. 

“Fan alert,” You whispered, causing Hyunjin to look up and around him. Your relationship wasn’t a secret. The boys had been off the dating ban for awhile. No one was surprised Hyunjin was the first to get a girlfriend. He waved over to the fans who screamed a little bit, making the two of you laugh. 

“How much you wanna bet that we have photos on twitter within the next hour?” He said wiggling his eyes brows. You hummed, cupping his cheeks. 

“I think they’ll be up in the next ten minutes.” 

Hyunjin scoffed, his eyes crinkling in a smile. “You’re on. Loser buys drinks?” After agreeing to the bet you watched the fans who were still across the street. You turned his head, a cheeky smile on your face. Hyunjin smiled when your lips pressed against his, girls squealing across the street, Thankfully your heels made the distance to his lips shorter. He pulled away, a smirk on the corner of his mouth. “You always cheat.” 

“No, I always win.” 

By the time you got into the club, you were correct. The pictures of you and Hyunjin were already trending on twitter. He paid for your drink and the two of you spent the next twenty minutes taking pictures for SNS. “I’m not going to take a picture after I’m all sweaty!” Hyunjin whined as he posed for you near an LED decoration. “Also, you look really hot holding that martini glass.” He said making you blush. 

The two of you finished your drinks before heading out onto the dance floor. Hyunjin always liked dancing towards the middle, he liked being in the crowd. It was a change of pace for him since he was usually on stage. Your hands draped around his neck playing with his blonde hair, as you danced, bodies pressed together. 

Going dancing with Hyunjin was one of your favorite things. There was never a bad part of the night and you almost always ended up continuing the night back at your shared apartment. Hyunjin smiled, feeling you grind up against him. 

“You really want to do that here?” He asked, nipping at your ear. 

After a few hours of mutual teasing, the two of you would climb into a cab, a little tipsy, and go back to your apartment. You would giggle at his jokes, legs draped over his lap as you two drove through the lit up city. 

Jisung:

Sweat dripped down the back of your neck. You had been dancing with some of the boys for a little over an hour. The only way to convince Jisung to go clubbing with you was if all the boys came along. You were surrounded by the dance line of Stray Kids as well as Jeongin and Changbin. Your boyfriend had decided he wanted to stay at the bar, with Seungmin and Chan. 

You looked over to see him smiling at you as you and Felix danced in all sorts of weird ways. He twirled you around making you laugh. “Lix, I’m going to go get a drink!” You shouted over the thumping music. Felix gave you a thumbs up before dancing with Changbin and Innie. As you walked away the three of them started up a kickline. 

You walked up the bar laughing. Seeing you coming, Jisung wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Hi, handsome!” You said kissing his cheek. Seungmin rolled his eyes and Chan smiled at the two of you. Jisung watched as you leaned on the bar, flagging down a bartender. “Can I get a manhattan?” The man nodded and told you the total for the drink. 

“I’ve got it,” Jisung said, pulling out his card before you could reach for yours. The bartender looked to you, making sure it was okay to let Jisung pay for your drink. You nodded and wrapped your arms around Jisung’s neck.

“You didn’t have to pay for my drink.” 

“Yeah, but I wanted to.” 

Jisung wasn’t normally the club type. He was your little introvert. But, he was wrapped around your fingers so twice a year he would go out clubbing with you as long as the other boys came along. You sat and talked with the boys while sipping on your drink. Jisung kept his hand around your middle as the colorful lights bounced off your faces. 

Setting the empty glass on the bartop you leaned in pressing your lips close to Jisung’s ear. “Dance with me?” You felt him shiver, a smirk slipping onto your lips. 

“Bye, Assholes! I’m dancing!” 

Jisung dragged you out onto the dance floor waving goodbye to his friends. Instead of bringing you to the other boys, he pulled you to the center of the room, eyes trained on you as he moved with you to the beat. You turned around, your back pressed up against his chest. 

“Why don’t you dance like this with me at home?” He whispered in your ear. 

You smirked, reaching behind you and playing with his hair. “Why don’t you come to the club with me more often?” He laughed at your question, hands gripping your hips, rolling against his own. 

“Cause I’d rather be at home doing other things with you.”

You smiled, feeling his grip tighten on your hips. “Well, they do have a bathroom here you know?” You could practically feel the heat rushing to Jisung’s cheeks, but he wasted no time in dragging you down the hall towards the bathrooms.

“Shit, thank goodness for lockable doors.” He whispered before pressing a heated kiss to your lips.

Felix:

The colorful lights bounced off any surface they landed on creating a euphoric glow in the room. Felix was still dancing out on the floor. You stood by the bar waiting for drinks. You were more likely to get drinks at the busy bar than Felix was. Finally, the bartender came over and asked for your drink order. 

“Ummm...” You tried to think of a drink Felix would like since he didn’t specify. He usually trusted you to order for him if he couldn't order himself. “I’ll do a Tom Collins and a Cosmo.” The bartender nodded and started working on your drinks. You listened to the shake of the tin as you waited and looked around the nightclub.

A guy across the bar with dark hair waved at you with a sly smirk. Being polite you waved back but turned the other way. You heard a loud sigh beside you. Turning you saw a sweaty Felix leaning against the bar. 

“Hey, darling!” He tapped on the bar, still catching his breath. “What did you get me?” You smiled and told him the drink just as the bartender set the two glasses in front of you. As you reached for your cosmo, the bartender started to speak.

“Your drinks were paid for already by that guy over there.” 

Turning you saw him pointing to the guy from earlier. He waved and sent you a wink. Felix tried his best not to laugh. He inched closer eyeing the man across the bar. “Well, guess having a smoking hot girlfriend does have its perks.” He whispered into your ear, before kissing you. 

“How come you get free drinks out of this and I get weird guys hitting on me?”

“Well, you get free drinks too.” He laughed as you shrugged. You sipped on the sweet drink. “You wanna take this to a back booth?” Your boyfriend questioned motioning towards some secluded areas towards the back of the club. It only took a small nod for him to lace his fingers with yours and drag you to the area behind the dance floor.

Felix ordered bottle service for you both, since clubbing was sort of special occasion for you two. He liked going out clubbing, but it was a sort of special treat since he was always so busy. You spent the rest of the night in your private booth, drinking from the rather expensive bottle Felix ordered. You giggled and joked around, loving being in the upbeat atmosphere with Felix.

Before the two of you left the venue, you both took turns taking aesthetic photos at the club. Felix was the king of making your photos look good. After the two of you got your photos and had a quick makeout session on the dance floor the two of you headed back to your shared apartment. 

The next day would consist of debating which one of you would get out of bed to A) get the door when your takeout arrived and B) get the coffee and hangover medicine from the bathroom. It would be a quiet day with lots of ‘shhh-ing’ from the hangover headaches. 

Seungmin:

Seungmin wasn’t excited about going clubbing, but he knew how much you loved going out. You loved the whole process. Finding the perfect outfit, searching the bottom of your makeup bag for the best waterproof non-transfer eyeliner. Your favorite part was Seungmin letting you style him for the one night. It was fun having your own personal Ken doll/ boyfriend. 

You met the rest of the boys at the club. They cheered seeing the two of you walk in together. Since everyone came along you got a private booth and bottle service for the table. Seungmin smiled seeing you enjoy yourself. “You want to go dance?” You asked, setting down your drink. Seungmin shook his head, lifting his arm from your shoulder. 

“No, I’ll stay here and watch your drink for you. I think Chan and Felix are out there though.” 

He pointed out onto the dance floor to where the aussies were dancing. Well, Felix was dancing...Chan was pulling out some ‘dad’ moves, making Felix cringe. “Thank you, Minnie,” You said kissing his cheek. “I’ll go save Felix from our resident ‘dad’.” He laughed as you got up from the booth. 

He watched you dance your way over to the boys a smile on his face. 

“How long are you staying out this time?” Jisung asked, sipping on his third drink of the night. Seungmin shrugged. 

“Probably until she gets tired or I have to carry her out. Whichever comes first.”

The boys around him laughed. With loving eyes, he looked over and watched you goof around with his friends. Chan spun you around like you were ballroom dancing and Felix did the robot with you. 

You looked over at your boyfriend, giving him a bright smile and wave, the backlights making your teeth look whiter than usual. He waved back, sending you a finger heart, eliciting a giggle from your lips.

“Dude, you are so whipped,” Hyunjin said witnessing the exchange. Seungmin glared at him from across the table. It quickly disappeared when he felt your hand on his shoulder. 

“Minnie! You sure you don’t want to dance with me?” Your eyes sparkled under the colorful flashing lights. How could he say no to that smile? He looked to the boys who were watching him expectantly, wiggling their eyebrows and making childish gestures. 

“Just one dance,” He said, letting you pull him up from the booth and onto the floor. One dance turned into two. Two turned into four. Soon you were the one carrying him home because his feet hurt too much. “You evil person, you made me dance too much!” He whined, arm hanging off your shoulder as you left the club.

“You’re the one who ran back onto the dance floor when they started playing Day6.”

Jeongin:

Jeongin ruffled his hair, pieces sticking to his forehead with sweat. He had been dancing with you for hours. It was your birthday, and you wanted to celebrate by going out to a club. 

He had surprised you by renting out the venue and inviting all your friends including the other boys. “Are you having a good time?” He asked, twirling you around with a bright smile. 

“Are you kidding?!” You squealed, leaping into his arms. “This is incredible. I can’t believe you did this, Jeongin!” He blushed feeling you press your lips against his. He felt proud, being able to make you this happy. 

You had long since abandoned your heels, choosing to throw them with Jeongin’s jacket. He watched your bare feet pad against the concrete floor as you dragged him back onto the dance floor. He loved that out of everyone here at your party, you wanted nothing more than to spend your time with him.

Your friends passed by, giving you birthday wishes and greeting your boyfriend as well. “Don’t you want to spend time with your other friends?’ He asked dancing with you, as the song changed. 

You shrugged taking his hands in yours. “Everyone I could possibly want to be with is standing in front of me.” Heat rose to your boyfriend’s cheeks, making you smile. Your arms wrapped around his neck. 

After the party had ended, you and the boys tiredly stumbled out of the club, singing random songs. Jeongin’s smile glowed under the street lights. The two of you watched as Chan and Minho tried to pull a drunk Jisung away from climbing a light post. The two of you laughed, Jeongin stepping into the street to hail a cab. 

Before he could open the door for you, Jisung pushed passed him with a laugh as Chan worked on shoving him into the vehicle. “Sorry guys! I think we need this one.” You all laughed as Changbin and Minho joined them in the cab, purposefully squishing Jisung in the middle. 

The cool night air brushed over your shoulders making you shiver. Noticing, Jeongin took off his jacket and wrapped it around you. “This has been the best birthday. Thank you, Innie!” You leaned up and kissed him, making the remaining boys whoop and holler. 

The two of you waited until all the boys had left safely, some more safely and sober than others. He laced his long fingers with yours, before walking down the street with you. In the other hand he carried your heels. “You really are the best boyfriend.” 

He shrugged, a shy smile on his face, his eyes trained down on the pavement. “Promise me one thing?” He asked, swinging your hands between the two of you.

“Of course,”

“Don’t make me go clubbing more than once a year. That was exhausting taking care of the rest of the boys.” You burst out in laughter before nodding and kissing his cheek.

Requests are open my lovelies! Just send an ask!

Masterlist

[stormykatie]

I did the dishes tonight while humming a Taylor Swift song. I know it's nothing huge and that some of you may be raising an eyebrow. 'She did the dishes tonight and she's writing about it. As if we care!'. Yes, that's the thing. I know you won't care. Not a bit. But I am writing about it in the same enthusiasm as you writing about your cat, that walk you took in the woods with the friend you secretly love, your dreams, your bucket list, the tasks that you need to accomplish, your pet peeves. 

Eight months ago, I wouldn't have minded the mountain of plates and mugs piled in the sink. I would lie in bed, stare at the ceiling and be somber. I would imagine myself wandering in an unknown forest. And that's it. That's all I could do: Imagine. I would fall asleep and forget about the bath I was running at the tub. I would wake to a drenched bathroom floor, clean off the mess and lie awake until 5 am. An arduous battle would commence between me and my mind. I would lose as I always do. Then I would go back to bed.

At 9 am, I would be too lethargic to get up. My cellphone would ring and the name on the screen would make me smile. Him-the only string that ties me to sanity. We would talk for a while, about everything and nothing. He would tell me about how sound he has slept and I would lie. I would try to make my nightmares seem like beautiful dreams that stole away my sense of reality for a night. I would make a cup of coffee and forget about breakfast. The conversation would become romantic, the kind that I indulge myself into so I could believe life is still worth living. That the sweet nothings worth every pain.

I would sit in my living room, try to make out the shadows prancing like restless sojourners from another lifetime. They would remind me about how I don't fit in this era and I would fall deeper into melancholy. This time, the heaviness would force me to mount the stairs like a wounded animal. I would lock myself inside my room, turn the music really loud so I could drown my heart, my emptiness, my exhaustion. I would cry a little. The effort would drain me. So I would lie on the floor, scroll endlessly on my phone. I would try to deny that I am depressed. I would try to deny that I exist.

When the inspiration strikes, I would type a poem. Another poem for me, for him, for someone I do not know but is feeling the same pain. I would imagine him somewhere in the wilderness, gasping for air as he sinks in his own misery. The poem will grow longer than intended as words gush out in a long queue of ghosts demanding to be inked for posterity. I would not hold anything back. I would type until my fingers become as numb as my barely beating heart. I would kiss my fingers and beg for forgiveness. Then my eyes would wander off to the window, lose my concentration into the pouring rain, and I would cry again.

Eight months, I was hiding in the void. If I came out at all, it was for me to immerse myself in the crowd so I could remember how it feels to be alive. Eight months, I never bothered to clean the mess in my dreary apartment. The dusty furniture, the cobwebs, the half torn curtains became my only company and they watched me suffer series of breakdowns. The bathroom witnessed how I struggled against taking my own life. The cold dinner table heard issues I refused to discuss with anyone. The bedroom watched me intoxicate myself as sleep became evanescent. Alcohol became my confidant. It became my lithium. And the window pane? It knows all of my secret longings. It stood by me as I waited for someone, anyone to drop by and perhaps, stop me from cutting my wrist.

Eight months, I never thought of doing anything normal. Eight months, I forgot I was human. Eight months, the sink resembled my life—disorganized, filthy, hideous and despairingly lacked future. Eight months, I stretched myself too thin, I broke like a thread. Eight months, I was luring death to take me. Eight months, I never did the dishes.

And so tonight, I want to write about how I stood before the sink, slowly picked up the sponge as Cardigan filled the background. And I hummed and hummed until the dishes were clean. It may be nonsensical to you, but to me, it was huge. It was me crawling my way back to redemption. It was me relearning forgiveness. It was me giving life a second chance.

It was me embracing FREEDOM!

-katie,

12th of June 2021, 18:25

Image: https://pin.it/6bVgzsz