#to alcohol! the cause of and solution to all of life's problems

[england-would-fall]

We know what you are, First Son of Liquid Courage

[0luv9]

can't move on || mattheo riddle

Summary: He was done fucked, a weak man on his knees for her, mad for her, in love with her and funny enough she didn't know. Him sleeping around isn't helping him though.

Beware: angst, fluff (?), minimal plot, smoking, drugs, alcohol, she/her pronouns, second person used as well, miscommunication, misunderstandings, excessive use of swear words, both reader and Mattheo assume the worst, happy ending.

Words: 4.025k

Mattheo Riddle is in deep shit. His feelings have dug him a deep hole, a hole so deep that he could bury himself a hundred times over and still not be anywhere near the surface. He is so in love with you. And you being so fucking oblivious, mistake his advances for him being friendly. It's funny because when has he ever done something friendly? He's not even friendly to his friends, he insults them as a greeting for fucks sake. It's ridiculous how clueless you are, it was endearing at first but now it's just painful for him to watch you go on dates, that too every date with a different guy.

He thinks you've fucked them all, afterall it's him, Mattheo Riddle, he only thinks in extremes, if you've been on a date with some dude, you ofcourse had fucked him because who wouldn't do you. He resorted to the same ways, fucking his frustration out but instead of feeling satisfied, he would feel relieved for a moment and then his frustration would grow more and more, never coming close to being satisfied. He thought he could just fuck it all out, that he could just forget you, that he could just hate you. It became a routine for him, he got rougher and rougher with the girls he slept with, reaching his own high became harder and harder. It was all because of you, 'cause you couldn't see his love and make him a lover.

His reputation was worsening, his grades started slipping, he started ignoring you, becoming angry easily, snapping at anyone and everyone. Fucking girls left and right, every day was the same and he wondered why the hell he couldn't find a solution to all his problems. His smoking habits became worse, one cigarette turned into two, two turned three and now he was smoking one pack a day. His life was fucked, he could no longer think for himself, the thoughts of you with someone else corrupted his mind at all times. Everyone could see him ruining his life, he couldn't care less, he didn't give a shit about the names he was being called, most of them were true anyway.

…

Tonight was like every other Slytherin party night, except for the fact that he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, all he wanted was a drunk hookup but he had slept with most of the girls in the room and he couldn't bring himself to repeat them over. He sighed, walking off to a secluded balcony, pulling out a cigarette, it was boring, life had become boring.

"Mattheo," he nearly jerked his head in the direction of your voice, it's been so long since he's heard it. All of it coming back to him, all the feelings he was trying to get rid of came right back, knocking at his heart. He's looking for the sweet smile, the one you'd always give him when you'd talk to him but all you did was frown at him, looking at him like the onlookers who gossiped about him and it fucking hurt. "Yes darling," he greeted you like nothing was wrong, before you would've smiled at his cheesy nicknames but now you grimaced at his hoarse voice and stepped back, he quickly looked away, just like that he blew off his last chance, he couldn't face it, he couldn't see you walk away from him, he physically couldn't.

"Riddle-" "Don't, don't call me that," he whispered, it was pathetic, he knows it too but that doesn't stop him, he couldn't hear you call him that. "Mattheo, I am Mattheo," he breathed out like an affirmation to himself, as though reminding himself of the person he's losing, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe. There it is, he's doing it again, acting how you'd want him to act, you disapproved of his smoking habits, you never told him to stop though, just so you know, he would stop if you only asked but you never did. You never asked anything of him, making the friendship feel one-sided, never wanting to bother him, you didn't do that with your other friends, you were openly asking them for favours albeit small, still favours, that's how friends are, looking out for eachother but no, you never expressed it, he just had to read into it. It made him feel as though he was your friend, just for the name sake, wow- he couldn't even be your friend.

He closed his eyes trying to contain himself, taking a hit from the burning cigarette, his hands were trembling, he was hurt, he could never be with you, you were making it clear. For the first time he got an actual sign of rejection and he just couldn't take it. "Riddle." It was still your voice, coming from his side, he slowly turned, there you were, standing next to him, looking at him with concern, giving him the slightest bit of hope, making his heart pound against his chest. He simply stared at you this time, unable to think of a response because you called him by his last name, you never did that. You didn't speak either, both staring at eachother, him with everything unsaid, sadness, anger, hope, longing, love, every fucking thing while you looked at him with worry painted all over your face. Mattheo hated to have people worry about him, noone was obligated to do so and he didn't want anyone to do it but right now, he didn't seem to mind, your attention was on him, worried about him. You finally looked away, placing your glass on the railing, alcohol with a lollipop in the glass, a typical you thing.

"alright, Mattheo," a small smile was tugging at your lips at his actions, "tell me, what's going on?" He didn't have anything to say, what would he say anyway? Upon not receiving an answer you sighed and continued, "Draco was telling me how different you've been-" he scoffed loudly interrupting you, ofcourse this is what it is, Malfoy sending you to talk to him, to scold him like everyone else, ofcourse you wouldn't come to him on your own, he was so fucking worthless in your eyes. “Don’t do that Mattheo-“ “Yeah? Why not? Coming here to scold me like everyone else, you know what, surprise surprise, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” He was angry, you come to talk to him after all these days and it was to tell him, that he’s bad, that he’s wrong, yes, he started it by ignoring you but you didn’t even make an effort to talk to your “friend” while he was away, it pained him to know that you didn’t even care to check up on him.

“No, I am worried Mattheo, this is not okay for you,” you moved closer, shaking your head trying to find the words, “I tried Mattheo, to catch you, to talk to you but you were always turning away, ignoring me, I couldn’t even get a proper look at you these weeks. Draco was joking about you smoking two a day, one for each girl you slept with, it was then but now, a whole pack a day? I tried to get to you, tried to see what’s been hurting you, but all I saw was your back towards me.” You paused, looking around clearly frustrated, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk about it, so I stopped trying but I am sorry, I can’t help myself, I care about you Mattheo and I hate to see you like this,” you looked up at him, hoping he’d understand but he only stared at you blankly, maybe you were wrong to care, he clearly didn’t want to be bothered, you sighed yet again, clearly there was no point, you could only wish for him to be better.

You mustered up all the courage you could, moving closer to the brunette who still hadn’t said a thing, “I am sorry for bothering you, I hope you win whatever battle it is that you are fighting, just know that I care and I can’t help but be worried when you are hurting, sorry if it is selfish that I want you to be better, I won’t disturb you anymore” you gave him a small smile, going up on your tiptoes planting a small kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment, holding his hand in both of your own giving it a hard squeeze before letting go. It pained you to see that he didn’t seem to care about his own life, making you feel useless for doing the same, he was dear to you, you didn’t want to let go of him but clearly he didn’t want the same, who were you to deny him of anything? So, you let go, taking the moment in before walking away, the tears were ready to fall, you weren’t going to let him see that, you didn’t want him to see how pent up you were over him when he couldn’t even bring himself to care.

Mattheo could feel his chest burn, he could feel the sting in his heart at the sight of you walking away, his knees felt weak, you cared? You tried to reach out? Yes you did, of course you did, you weren’t the ugly person he tried to paint you as, he wanted to hate you so bad, he wanted you to be wrong, he wanted you to scold him, he wanted you to hate him just so he could move on but no, he could never move on from you, even if you spat his way he’d love you. ‘Sorry if it is selfish-’ he fucking wants you to be selfish, he wants you to be selfish about him. Only if he wasn’t busy imagining you with other guys, maybe he would’ve noticed that you smile a bit more around him, just maybe he’d see your eyes looking out for him. Maybe then he would’ve seen the look in your eyes, one similar to his, but he was a fool, he’d always be unworthy of your love, you wouldn’t love someone like him, he ruled that possibility out the very moment he fell in love with you, thereby in his mind even if you actually loved him, you didn’t because he couldn’t see it.

He called after you, he couldn’t see you walk away, not when he has so much to say. You turned around, he saw tears in your eyes, he felt like dying, it was him who made you cry, if he didn't hate himself before, he clearly did right then. With two wide strides he was infront of you, holding your face, wiping away your tears, "please don't walk away from me," he muttered, trying to get you to look up at him, you look up at him with stars in your eyes, taking his breath away, 'I want you so bad' he thinks to himself but it's false, no, he doesn't simply want you, he fucking needs you like the air you take away from him, when you look at him like that- hazy eyed, making him think that you love him but he knows you don't, he knows you don't love the guys you go on dates with, he knows you don't love the guys you sleep with, in his eyes you love to care but don't care to love, he'll be one of those guys, if it means you'll have him, even if it is for one night.

He was staring at you, looking for a sign, waiting for you to push him away but you just look at him with glossy eyes, making him weak, unable to contain himself he presses his lips against yours, you hiss pulling back, the bitter taste of smoke invading your senses, your reaction hurts him, he couldn't even be one of your guys, that's how worthless he is, his grip loosens, he tastes you on his lips, sweet cherry- the lollipop still sugary on your lips. Then you surprise him, fisting his collar, pulling him down, soft lips on his, like honey against his smoke. He loses it then and there, his hand comes up to hold your face, the other low on your back pulling you flush against him. It was heaven, eyes closed, moving in sync, savouring every second, he could feel his skin tingle, his body burn, it was pathetic how you could bring him to feel so much with the simplest of touches, and now you were kissing him, better than any dream or fantasy, it's real, he reminds himself, frowning as he concentrates trying to capture every single detail, of you against him.

Mattheo walks you back to the railings, not letting go of you even for a second. You pull away as the cold metal makes contact with your body, the sting seeping through the thin layer of your clothes. Still impossibly close practically breathing the same air, then the situation dawns upon you, you look up at Mattheo in horror. This is what has become of your love for him, he's using your attraction towards him to get you into bed, just like he did with other girls. There was no difference in their relationship with him and yours with him, evidently so. You loved kissing him but you hated the fact that it meant everything to you but all it was to him was a one night stand, your dignity would not allow it, even though you wanted him so badly. "I'm- I'm sorry but I can't," you quickly walk off, not looking back this was humiliation, you felt embarrassed.

One moment you were there kissing him and the next you were gone, he fucking hates this because he doesn't know what to do or what made you push him away. You gave him hope when you kissed him but shattered it when you walked away, you were confusing him. Why'd you kiss him like that if you wanted to let go? His hands reach out to pull at his hair, "Fuck" he grits out, it was frustrating not knowing what to do, knowing he has done something wrong. But for the most part, he doesn't know how you feel, you kissed him like you felt something but you walked away like it was nothing. He's over it.

…

He's absolutely not over it. He couldn't even stick to the plan for five seconds, images of you in his arms plagued his mind. He could only cherish that moment, he felt more alive in those few seconds than he ever did, his lips are still tingling, it's the next morning and his head is still in clouds. Mattheo for once, feels human- he feels like going to class again just so he could see you. The wound of your rejection was still fresh in his heart but so was the memory of your lips against his in his mind.

He could handle the professors' taunts, he infact muted them out and zeroed in on your face, you were avoiding him, he could see it, trying so hard just like he did the past few weeks. He saw himself in you for a moment but then you started talking to some Hufflepuff dude next to you, smiling at him so pretty, his blood started burning hot when he saw the guy touch you. You did nothing to push him away, pfft- ofcourse he wasn't Mattheo fucking Riddle that you'd push him away.

Mattheo was practically burning holes into you skull as he took a seat in the very back. Only if he wasn't so overtaken by jealousy he'd see that your smile didn't reach your eyes as you laughed at the Puff's joke, that your reactions were simply polite, a mere distraction from the pinching of your heart. You didn't want to be one of the girls he slept with, didn't want to be discarded after being used.

He couldn't even be one of your guys, he fucking wanted it to be him so bad just to have your for a night, just so you could see him in a different light, just so you'd know that he loved you. He'd gladly be discarded by you.

…

Mattheo has been searching for you, for about an hour now, you were minx- rushing out of the class before he could catch upto you. You were no where to be seen, he was actually getting worried. He was just about to enter the dungeons when he saw Pansy near the entrance. She'd know your whereabouts, she was a close friend of yours. She'd help him too, because she was his friend as well, right? Or had he destroyed every relationship he had the past few weeks. "Pans, a moment please" "oh hey Mattheo," she greeted him with a smile, that's a good sign, "umm- do you know where-" there he was, polite stuttering fucktard, "oh I know where she is," He didn't even tell her who he was looking for, confusion taking over his features, "I saw you looking at her in class, you like her don't you?" Was he that obvious? If so, why couldn't she see it? "Yeah," he finally admitted it to someone else, it was out there now, he felt some weight lift off of his shoulders, there was no denying to it, he loved her and he doesn't care if he gets laughed at for it but then his heart stops at her next words. "She's on a date with some Hufflepuff, in Hogsmeade," her voice was sympathetic, hurt was painted all over his face.

They were standing there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before she broke it, heading towards the entrance, "You know you should tell her," she gave him a small smile, she patted his back ready to slip into the entrance, he stopped her "Why? Did she say something about me?" His voice was full of hope, hoping that maybe she had confessed to her friend just like he did right then but to add onto his sorrow, Pansy shook her head, he let his head hang low, moving his hand over his face, scoffing bitterly at the situation he was in, "but you should still tell her, at least you'll be satisfied knowing that you did something about it than do nothing." She shrugged walking in, leaving him there to think about her words.

She is right. He has to know, to know how you feel, he has to talk to you, has to let you know how he feels because in his heart, there's hope that you may like him back because you kissed him like you did. Mattheo wants to confirm that it wasn't his delusions that rendered your lips to move against his in adoration, something more than just physical. He has to hold you again in his arms-

He didn't even have to walk far away to find you, walking alone in the empty corridor but you turn around as you see him. Mattheo won't let you do that this time, he's onto you within seconds grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. "What-" "Please don't ignore me-" "I am not!" You sound defensive, taking your hand back, folding them as you look at him as though he is some lowlife human, there's a similar hurt in your eyes, one he knows a bit too well. "Yes you are, please don't try to deny it," he says slowly and carefully, he doesn't want you to walk away, "what do you want Mattheo?" You are annoyed, you stretch out his name showing your impatience. He takes his sweet time though, taking your hands in his, they feel cold, snatching away the warmthness of the action, "Why did you walk away? Yesterday?" "Why? Is there some rule against it-""no no ofcourse not-" both of you interrupting each other, you were frustrated, what was he trying to do? Did his ego take such a huge hit that you didn't want to sleep with him, like those girls he used and discarded? "Tell me why is it that you care? It's not a huge deal to you, you can have anyone else to sleep with you, it shouldn't matter that one girl decided to walk away when you have tens and hundreds lining up-" "WHAT?" He was looking at as though you were saying something ridiculous, "I cared about our relationship enough not to ruin it but you had to be there, trying to use me like you use the other girls and then discard me-" "STOP!" He holds your face in his hands, intense gaze setting you ablaze, "I fucking care, don’t think otherwise, I care because it's you, you could never be them-"

"wow- am I so worthless and unattractive in your eyes that you don't even-" "Wait, it should be me saying all of this, about you and the guys you on dates with, the guys you take to bed-" "What guys-" you both were now screaming at eachother, it was overwhelming, having to be vulnerable and admit your feelings and not understand what the person in front of you is saying. "I have not once slept with the guys I went on dates with, I'm in love with you for fucks sake but I got tired of waiting for you to love me," What.

He fucked up.

"Fuck, fuck-" his knees hit the ground as he covers his face with his hands, he's ruined all his chances by being an assuming dickhead. Heavens goodness- "FUCK!" He groans into his palms, not being able to digest what you had just said, he feels ecstatic that you love him but he hates that he's ruined his chances with you, "Mattheo-" "Fuck, I am so sorry, I've been a fool, a fucking idiot-" he pulls you down, grabbing your hands, crying because he doesn't know any other way to express it. He has lost his chance all because he let jealousy get the best of him, took illogical steps to overcome it. "I love you, I fucking am in love with you," he grips your hands tight, shaking them as he speaks, unable to control his very physical reaction, "Mattheo what-" "I thought that I could fuck it all out, fuck all the feelings away but no you were always on my mind, not just you but you with someone else, happy. I thought maybe I could resort to your ways, thought maybe I could sleep around then I'd get rid of my feelings, afterall you seemed happy doing it but you never- FUCK! I am so fucking sorry, I love you-" you kiss him, he sure was an idiot to think that you could just flip a switch and "unlove" him, what kind of love would that be? You hated to admit it, you loved him even when he was sleeping with so many girls, you loved him before he did that, a few weeks were nothing to make you hate him.

It was brief kiss, enough to silence him, tears were still running down his face- he was a heartbroken man on his knees afterall- they were only a sign of his regret, then he was at it again, apologising, "stop Mattheo, you are foolish if you think that I'll love one moment and not love you the next-" "but you don't deserve it, not after what I did-" "let me decide that. Do you love me?" Your ask is serious, so he answers you with utmost sincerity, his words soft, full of truth "I love you, more than I think I can handle," he looks down, you don't let him as you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him close, "Learn to handle it then, I am not going anywhere." For the first time in his life, does Mattheo experience pure bliss, you are a sin against his lips, he pulls you closer like a prayer because if there's a god above, he'd pray for you to be his.

...

[excitementshewrote]

[mochidoie]

room for two.

kim doyoung x reader wc - 7k genre - pure fluff, sharing a bed cliché, mutuals to lovers, mutual pining, SO MUCH TENSION BUILD UP warnings - kiss scene, sensual tension, mention of alcohol

It's Johnny Suh's birthday trip and as your childhood best friend, Johnny books a hotel room with only one bed for you and Doyoung to share. The catch: you're completely head over heels for Kim Doyoung.

“I can sleep on the floor.” Hands on his hips, Doyoung quizzically stares at the full sized bed in the center of the hotel room. Seconds pass by, feeling like hours staring at this one bed situation and trying to find a solution for the next three nights.

“Maybe we can ask if they have a spare mattress we can rent? Hotels do that right…?” If only you could be confident in your suggestions, knowing damn well that it was highly unlikely and you’ve already heard an earful of excuses as to why you’re unable to change your room last minute.

At this point, you are mentally strangling Johnny for this slip up. This is the last time you trust this man to do anything for you. Not only did he pick the middle seat for you on the airplane when you specifically asked for the window, he has now ruined your good night’s sleep by "accidentally" booking you only one bed to share with Doyoung.

Doyoung shrugs at your proposal, “it’s been awhile since I traveled. I can go down and ask if it’ll be possible. Hang tight.” He is gone before you can protest, but perhaps it’s better that he tries to negotiate with the receptionists since they wouldn’t even let you finish a sentence earlier.

Grabbing your phone, you’re quick to type an angry text to Johnny Suh about how badly he screwed up the hotel reservation and how he is getting on your last standing nerve.

Good. Maybe finally you’ll get the balls to make a move.

Plus, it was cheaper. You told me to save you some money and that’s what I did.

Scoff leaving your lips as you read the two text bubbles over and over. You can’t believe your eyes at this little weasel and in fact, you straight up cannot believe he actually thought this was a good idea.

While this means you get to share a bed with your crush, you never intended for it to be premeditated. A love that happens naturally, that is all you could ask for. Absolutely in no way did you want your friends to meddle with your love life and definitely not to put you in such an awkward situation.

The door beeps open and Doyoung walks in looking as defeated as ever. Judging from his facial expression, it was a no. You two are stuck sleeping together on this tiny bed for this entire trip.

“I really tried.” Doyoung scratches the back of his neck, quite apologetic that he couldn’t find some resolve to an issue that he didn’t even cause.

You laugh, “it wasn’t even your problem to fix anyways.” A sigh of relief follows after and Doyoung flashes you his gummy smile at the idea that pops into his head.

“You know, I don’t really mind sleeping together.” He admits, bashfully and trying to gauge your reaction to the potential thought of sharing a bed. “But obviously, if you’re uncomfortable with the idea, I completely understand too.”

“I don’t know… I’m just a bit embarrassed.” Your cheeks grow hot at the possibility of waking up next to Doyoung, how nice the fragrant of hotel body wash would smell from his skin so close.

Not to mention, the proximity of your bodies being way closer than they’ve ever been before. Just no respectable distance between the two of you underneath the sheets and completely vulnerable in your sleep.

“Of what?” The shift of the bed has you dipping toward him. “Do you snore?”

You don’t answer.

“I mean- like even if you did, it’s not a big deal and you don’t need to be embarrassed about it.” Doyoung frantically tries to make you feel better, seeing that your expressionless face leans closer to sadness rather than neutral. You two are definitely not on the level of friendship to be playful with each other yet.

So you lie just to see what he says. “I snore, I kick. I even steal blankets, Doyoung! And I think you’ll be too nice to wake me up about it or to take them off of me.”

Doyoung practically chokes on his spit at the last part of your sentence. “No, you’re right. I would be too nice to do any of that.” He seriously ponders for a second, his eyes darting around at the ground to maintain his focus on weighing the pros and cons. He really didn’t want to sleep on the floor.

“If it happens, it happens. I won’t mind either way now that I have a heads up.” He gets up to start unpacking his suitcase. “Like I said, there is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Fair warning, don’t be upset at me in the morning if you don’t get a good night’s rest. You can blame Johnny for that.” Unpacking the soft dress from your luggage, you smooth out its crinkles and hang it up in the tiny closet next to Doyoung’s jacket.

Doyoung laughs, he has actually been laughing the whole time you’ve spent with each other. It’s as if you’re some comedian and it has you wondering if you’re actually even that hilarious. “I’m pretty happy rooming with you. I’d rather be here than third wheeling with a couple still in their honeymoon phase.”

The magnitude of his words has a buzz running throughout your veins, hairs to stand up on your arms and a slight churning in your stomach. Mindlessly folding out his clothes, Doyoung has no actual clue how he is affecting you. He’s just oblivious to it all.

“Good thing I didn’t bail like everyone else.” The nervous chuckle that escapes your lips is unintentional, probably an awkward reflex to deflect how you’re dying at being in his presence alone.

Johnny’s birthday trip had been a last minute thing and only a select few were able to make it, some bailing at the very last day before. It was a weird time of the year, especially with the New Year starting not too long ago. However, this season allows for cheaper flights and accommodation since it was after the holidays.

It was initially supposed to be a group of Johnny’s close friends — you, Doyoung, Mark, Jaehyun, Yuta — in addition, his girlfriend. How the room arrangements were supposed to be was that you and his girlfriend would share an all girls room, while the guys shared one room.

That outcome could still technically be possible, but Johnny insisted on switching rooms so he can stay with his girlfriend after the others dropped and how he has already shared the experience of being roommates with Doyoung. He also knew how big of a crush you had for Doyoung, so he thought it would be more fitting to pair the lovers together.

Although, Doyoung didn’t like you back nor does he know you do. The severity of your crush is mild, just that Doyoung is the most attractive man ever with poise and an aura that oozes so sexily from him. This is the first chivalrous man in your life, meeting him through Johnny some years ago.

You and Johnny are family friends, your moms being the closest women duo on this Earth. When they’re together, they’re unstoppable. In return, the two of you are practically siblings and have spent every celebration, every holiday, every family event, every funeral together.

Doyoung is Johnny’s roommate from college, these two have been lifelong friends since then. Doyoung had actually moved to your hometown after college, finding an amazing job opportunity at the same company as Johnny. He started coming around a lot more to social events or whenever you saw Johnny. Since the first moment he offered you a ride home, you’ve been stuck on this infatuation for this incredibly charming and sweet man.

Though, you two never got extremely close despite your individual connections to Johnny. It has always felt like Doyoung is Johnny’s friend and vice versa. You also really had no reason to see Doyoung without Johnny, so there had always been a distance. You two spoke when in a group setting, just to make small talk about work, general life updates, or anything about Johnny.

On a very drunk night long ago, you and Johnny had been very well over your drinking limit and had been talking about nonsense between the two of you. Just old friends catching up, but the itch of asking about Doyoung had been bothering you all night.

“Out of curiosity, is Doyoung single?” Oh god, the alcohol has started speaking for you. Johnny raises a skeptical brow and beckons his beer bottle at you before taking a swig.

“Don’t tell me you’re interested in digital marketing Kim Doyoung, cubicle 4E80.”

The boldness overtakes you, it’s not like you lose anything asking a simple question to satisfy your curiosity. “What if I am?”

Johnny laughs, rather than lightheartedly, it is a robust laugh that feels like he’s mocking you and that your statement is unbelievably ridiculous. “He’s single, painfully single too.”

There is a brief pause as your drunken state processes the loud beating of your heart in your ears. Hope settles in, a big dumb grin plasters on your warm face.

“It’s interesting. He had asked about you too.” Johnny sits back and sinks into the couch. “He asked if you had a romantic partner.”

“Me?” You are truly in disbelief that he would ever even give you a second thought.

“Yeah, you dummy. I think he meant it as you should get into a relationship though, not asking if you were single because he is interested in you.” Your heart soars, quickly depleting after hearing Johnny’s explanation. So much for hope or a chance.

“I’m not fully understanding.”

“Doyoung is weird sometimes with his thoughts. I think he was trying to say that you seem lonely? Oh, and that you seem like you have a lot of love to give.” Johnny rubs his eyes with his knuckles, feeling the alcohol induced drowsiness coming on. “Such an observant man.”

Since that night, you never tried any advancements toward him. Partly because you are afraid of him catching onto something and because it was enough for you to realize he probably isn’t interested in you romantically.

Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering or from your smile growing whenever Doyoung says something nice. He is a naturally friendly and genuine person, super considerate of others and very kind. Johnny says that he has never met another man with such good intentions and a big heart, while still being snarky and intelligent.

“Heading to the pool?” Doyoung asks, a fist holding his swim shorts and a plain shirt. The warm weather outside is so inviting, knowing you’re probably going to get sunburnt at the end of it but it being a year’s worth of Vitamin D. Johnny definitely knows how to travel.

“Yeah, I can’t swim so I’ll just sit by the edge and dip my feet in.” You’re rummaging through your suitcase for your bikini cover-up until your hand hits the bottom of the barrel.

Panic creeps up your neck as you’re tossing all of your clothes out of your luggage now, picking through shirts, dresses, underwear and pants to find the one item you set a reminder to pack.

It’s not there. “Everything okay?” The genuinity in Doyoung’s voice makes you feel more embarrassed for some reason. Tossing all your belongings back into your suitcase, you throw your hands up in the air out of frustration.

“I can’t find my swimsuit cover up. I guess this is what happens when you dismiss a reminder before fulfilling it.” Slightly annoyed, you’re holding the two-piece in your palms and wondering if it is worth the hassle and bashfulness to wear it. You brought it with the intent of looking hot and sexy for the trip, while also keeping your decency by having a cover up to …. well, cover up.

You excuse yourself and clench the bikini in your hand, walking into the bathroom. Fuck it, you brought it. You’re going to wear it. If it gets too much, you’ll just wrap a towel around or buy a new cover up. It shouldn’t be too big of a deal and you already know that Johnny is going to give you shit for not joining them at the pool.

You’ll suck it up. Looking in the mirror, the bottoms barely cover your ass cheeks. Barely is an overstatement, the fabric is so far up your crack that it gives you a wedgie every time you move. Nonetheless, the baby pink is such a sweet color that you’re not minding the exposure too much.

Now, the top situation is a whole mess. The strings wrap around your midsection, but your arms are too short to give yourself a secure knot. After multiple attempts at stretching and pulling, twisting your arms in funky positions, you give up and think it’s best to call in help.

Doyoung. Fuck. You take a few deep breaths and examine yourself in the mirror again, reminding yourself of every positive affirmation and Doyoung is too nice to say anything. Calming your nerves, you gently push open the door.

“Doyoung, could you do me a huge favor and tie my bikini top for me? I genuinely don’t think it’s tight enough when I do it.” You peek your head out and his footsteps come from around the corner, happy to help!

Walking in, Doyoung looks taken aback by your choice of attire. You’re examining his reaction through the mirror as he stops at the door frame, his eyes widen and drag down your body twice. He is most definitely checking you out.

He clears his throat when he meets your eyes. “Did you want me to double knot it?” He asks, softly and shyly. Stepping behind you, his hot hands guide your hair to the side of your neck to expose your back. Your heart is in your throat when Doyoung takes the string from your hands and pulls it toward him, a bit too roughly.

You lose your footing and jolt back into him, your shoulder hitting his chest. “Shit, sorry.” His breathy apology in your ear sends chills up your spine and a slight rush down below.

The tension in the air is so thick – you’re both suffocating in it. Staring at his profile in the reflection, Doyoung’s expression is none of what you’ve seen before. It’s lustful, almost, if you’re not interpreting it incorrectly. He’s biting the inside of his cheek and he is trying to look everywhere but your ass and your breast from an aerial view.

“It’s okay.” You laugh it off, but he is unwavering. “You’re stronger than you look, Doyoung.”

Your light teasing breaks the serious concentration on his face and his shy gummy smile returns, “it’s from all the times Johnny dragged me to gym with him.”

He ties the knot perfectly, making sure it’s one of those pretty bows that top off a gift box. He’s quite happy with himself that he forgets your bare ass is inches away from his clothed dick.

His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, “pink is a pretty color on you.” His eyes catch yours in the reflection of the mirror and a light blush dusts his cheeks, a kind half grin on his lips.

Your heart is soaring, once again. “It’s nice on you too.” Smiling back, there is a split second that you can actually believe that Doyoung could’ve felt some connection between the two of you. “Thank you for such an impressive bow.”

His demeanor shifts back to friendly, less serious and intense. “Yeah, no problem! If you’re still looking for a coverup, I have something you can borrow.”

Walking out of the stuffy bathroom, Doyoung hums and pulls out a white button up from his bag. It’s light and flowy, just the perfect thing to wear out on a beautiful day. He helps you slip on the sleeves and it covers your backside very well. It’s even better than the initial cover up you had. Then it hits you, you’re wearing his clothes. His scent falls on your body fruitfully and Doyoung doesn’t even flinch at the sight of you in his shirt.

Nonetheless, there is no denying that his stares seem to linger longer than they usually do.

Despite multiple occasions of waiters and waitresses mistaking you and Doyoung as a couple, the first day of the trip was jam packed with good fun and no complaints. Johnny and his girlfriend love showing PDA, but keep it modest for those around. Doyoung enjoys getting his picture taken at every tourist spot, some lowkey alleyways or artsy areas that catch his eye. You just like being around your friends, in a new environment and living in the moment with them all.

The night had fallen upon you so quickly, the expression time flies when you’re having fun held true for this day. Johnny had mentioned prior that he wanted to have a romantic candlelit dinner with his girlfriend for one of the nights you were on this trip.

It didn’t hit you that he was actually being serious about that plan until you’re back in your hotel room with Doyoung, looking for a place to have dinner on your own.

“I didn’t know how much of a romantic Johnny is.” You’re blowing raspberries into the air as you scroll mindlessly on the internet for a good place to eat in this foreign area. Doyoung takes a seat on the chair at the desk, doing exactly the same as you.

“It takes the right person to get it out of him.” Doyoung mumbles, ruffling his hair out of his face cutely. The strands of his bangs disheveled and sticking up. “But he’ll do anything for the person he really likes.”

“I guess I’ve never seen that side of him.” You shrug, attention draining from the overwhelming selection of food choices in the area.

Doyoung notices your mind wandering and hears the tiny grumble of your stomach from hunger. “How about we go here? Looks like they have happy hour and a very nice aesthetic.”

He kneels down at the bed level to show you photos of the restaurant. It’s a large outside patio with decorative ambient string lights, vines of greenery hanging from the ceiling and the rustic wooden walls within the indoor portion of the restaurant.

Overall vibe of the place feels elevated, yet still trendy and modern. The food seems to be a fusion of Korean and Chinese cuisines and the prices look more than desirable.

“Half off main entree items and bottomless cocktails during happy hour?!” Sitting up, you’re grabbing Doyoung’s phone out of his hand to get a closer read on the menu. You’re in disbelief at such a good deal. “Let’s go!” You cheer, jumping up on your feet to pick an outfit for the night.

“I knew the bottomless cocktails will get you. You understand me, y/n.” Doyoung is as overjoyed as you, and you’re both happily smiling at each other without a thought about how good you make each other feel. Grabbing your flowy white romper, you change quickly in the room as Doyoung fixes up in the bathroom.

There is elegance in the white silk, yet it doesn’t make you look too overdressed or too casual. Leaning forward to the vanity, you’re clipping on some shiny earrings and the door opens behind you.

Doyoung steps out in that loose white button up you borrowed earlier today, three buttons unbuttoned from the neck to expose some of his toned chest, half tucked into his neat slacks. His hair is combed and styled back, getting a clear view of his sharp features and maturity. He looks so good, you almost start drooling.

“Oh, your zipper isn’t zipped all the way.” Doyoung breaks you out of your gawking. Without any hesitation, he walks up behind you and helps you with your zipper. This moment mirrors earlier events from this morning.

He chuckles, mostly to himself as he drags the zipper up and his eyes follow the trail of your spine to your eyes in the reflection. “How do you ever get yourself dressed when you need help getting dressed so often?”

“It’s a bit of a struggle, but I manage.” Straightening up your posture, Doyoung’s hand gently caresses your forearm. “But you definitely have made it easier for me today.” You’re still in shock as you watch Doyoung clip your bracelet around your wrist, dropping your arm back by your side ever so gently.

“I’m more than happy to be of assistance.” He clicks his tongue and this fleeting feeling of sensual tension finds itself lost again. Nonetheless, this moment is going to play like a loop of reruns in your mind the whole night.

Three and a half cocktails in, you’re both indulging in a conversation that makes no sense to either one of you but it’s a harmonious time. Your heart is pounding in your ears from the alcohol running circles in your bloodstream, but the moderately loud ambiance of the restaurant creates a good buzz. Doyoung is a cute shade of red before you, every sip making him dangerously close to losing his senses.

“I have to say, this has been the most fun I’ve had in awhile.” The bottom of his glass hits the table and finds its way perfectly in the right spot everytime. The look of content fills his red cheeks and you’re seriously so intoxicated that your mouth has a mind of its own.

“What do you mean?” You know what he means, but the alcohol is asking for more context and reassurance. Has it been fun because of the copious amounts of drinks you two have had after only sharing an appetizer? Or is it genuinely because of you?

“You’re so easy to talk to. I feel like I can talk to you for hours.” His gummy smile twinkles in the dim atmosphere, all because the thought of talking to you for hours makes him full of glee and happiness. He isn’t one to hold back a genuine compliment, he wants you to know how he feels about you as a person. Intimacy didn’t exist between the two of you before tonight, but that changes with every exchange of glances and sweet words.

The call of his name gets his attention, eyebrows raised and eyes as alert as they can be, “you’re one of the only people in this world that I could listen to for hours.” There is no stopping you at this point. Another compliment and you’re bound to confess a part of your heart tonight to him.

Doyoung nods, understanding every bit of where you’re coming from. He gets you like how you get him. “There has been a question that’s been on my mind since I met you.”

Your breath hitches at the actuality that he thought enough about you to have such curiosity. You lived in his brain when you truly believed he would never give you a second look. “Why have you and Johnny never dated?”

The laugh that creeps up your throat almost slips out from hearing the question, but Doyoung is more than serious with this revealed secret question he had been holding onto for so long. Clearing your throat, your finger lightly traces the rim of your glass as you really think hard about every reason you are not attracted to Johnny romantically.

“I’ve known him practically since birth, so he has always been a good brother to me.” It really is that simple, shrugging to show that it's nothing too deep. “While we meet people in a certain moment of their lives, that version of them freezes as the person you will always know them to be to you.”

Doyoung watches your finger dance around. “To me, Johnny will always be a booger-eating cry baby. The love I have for him is purely familial, as if he was the reason for every scraped elbow growing up or for my fear of abandonment when he left me in the grocery store aisles.”

He hums lovingly at your explanation. “I’m guessing you get that question pretty often.”

“Besides his current girlfriend, you’re the only other person who has asked.” Your chuckle makes Doyoung slightly embarrassed, can he be that obvious? It’s fine, you both won’t remember this night fully.

“A follow up question then,” Doyoung leans forward with his elbows digging into the white table cloth, “who am I to you?”

Your eyes widen, those words are enough to knock some sense back into you. Your heart continues to pound in your ears, but also drumming against your chest quickly with every possible way you could answer him.

His eyes stare down at you like prey, just waiting patiently and silently for you to speak. Doyoung’s demeanor may seem confident on the outside, but he is dying to know on the inside. “You’re Johnny’s best friend.”

He lets the disappointment subside, the whiplash in your face is enough indication that you weren’t prepared for such a question. Doyoung relaxes back in his chair, dropping his gaze and nodding at your simple answer. It doesn’t satisfy him, but he can’t be someone to ask for much in this situation.

“Who am I to you?”

Doyoung rolls his lips, debating if his answer will only produce fruitful reactions or you would be turned off. The alcohol has too much control over his choice of words, truthfully, the haziness surrounds his vision. “You’re y/n, Johnny’s cute friend who I can’t seem to get out of my mind.”

Something about Doyoung paying for dinner and his chivalrousness throughout the night oozes a romantic side of him you’re not used to. It felt as if you and Doyoung went on a real date together, even though it was curated off of unforeseen circumstances. Romance isn’t dead, as some may oppose. You could hope that Doyoung agreed.

“Doyoung, the shower is free for you now.” A towel wraps your wet hair up into a cone on your head, earning a small smile from Doyoung. He gathers his things and makes his way into the already steaming bathroom, your essence filling the tiny room.

You’re mindlessly scrolling on your phone, hearing the shower turn on and suddenly turn off. Then it hits you, you have walked out empty handed and your discarded clothes are still hanging on the glass door. You’re both quick at the door, but Doyoung beats you to open it from the other side.

His head pops out, the door slightly ajar. He is naked from the top down to the towel around his waist. Droplets dribble down his tone chest and stomach and your throat goes dry from the sight of him. “Don’t be embarrassed.” Doyoung says gently, holding out your dirty clothes in an orderly pile and your underwear visibly in the mix.

“Thank you.” Finding your words, you quickly take your belongings.

“I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose, y/n.” Doyoung clicks his tongue, a playful eyebrow raise and a corner of his lip turning upward into a smirk.

“No! I swear, you just make me so comfortable.. I’m treating this as if it’s my own space.” You’re coming to your senses, shutting the door on him so he couldn’t respond to such a ridiculous excuse. Your back hits the bathroom door, sliding down and huddling your laundry.

“I feel comfortable around you too.” You hear Doyoung say through the door. Though you couldn’t see him, a smile lies on his lips as he continues his nightly routine.

Some time passes, Doyoung enters the sheets before you and the anxiousness settles in your system when you know you have to eventually join him. He feels the shift in atmosphere, peering over at your hunched figure at the end of the bed.

“I can still sleep on the floor.” Pushing the blankets off of his body, he starts to get up. You’re fast to push his chest down, landing softly over him. You’re both unmoving in this position, out of pure shock of the sudden proximity.

Your eyes meet briefly, but you look away from his wide bunny eyes. “It’s okay. I don’t want you on the floor.”

His finger turns your chin to face him. The annoying pounding of your heart is loud in your eyes, aching from his hot touch and how you could seriously drown in his beautiful gaze. You’re wondering if he could hear it.

“Then, where do you want me?” Doyoung swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing at the sight of your lips before him and he is three seconds from diving into you. Completely stunned, obviously, taken aback by his bold question and the tension in the room seems to find its way back.

You want him in your arms. You want him suffocating you with his warm embrace. You want him where you are. Will he allow that? “The bed is fine.” The firmness in your voice assures Doyoung that you don’t feel unwavering. He would hate for you to feel the slightest uneasy. With a roll off of him, you’re planted on your back on the other side of the bed. Staring at the ceiling, you’re both processing the elephant that has overstayed its visit this entire day.

He has to have felt something. There is no way he could be that oblivious, you know he isn’t.

Pulling the sheets over your body, your back is facing Doyoung as he tries to find a good position to doze off in. Heat radiates off of your bodies underneath the blankets and you’re partly grateful to be sharing the bed with such a gorgeous man. Peering over your shoulder, Doyoung swipes on his phone aimlessly looking through the photos he took today.

He feels your curious eyes on him, “want to help me choose which ones I should keep?” Doyoung scoots a bit closer toward the middle of the bed, closing the distance between the two of you slowly.

As this man speedily scrolls through photo after photo, you’re too much in awe at how a simple photo could capture how handsome he is. You’re trying to be helpful, without saying much, but still trying. He deletes a random one at his distaste in a blink that you could barely keep up.

“Do, you look great in all of these.” You sigh, moving even closer to him as his shoulder hits your arm. You’re swiping a few photos back to one that caught your eye – gummy smile, hand covering his eyes, low light underneath the stars, one hand in his pants pocket. He is the perfect wallpaper material. “I like this one the best.”

“You can’t see my face in that one.” He laughs, “what do you like about it?”

“You look good.” It’s all you could say, anything more will tip the boat.

He instantly favorites it, moving on before he can dig anymore about your vague explanations. Swipe after swipe, a new angle, a new pose, a new facial expression but all in the same area. You’re starting to get sleepy at the endless miniscule details, but your eyes shoot open when he swipes upon a photo of you and then, quickly dismissing it as if you weren’t supposed to see.

“Was that me?” You ask, practically grabbing his phone. Doyoung sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, letting you scroll through his phone to find more pretty candids he took of you without you knowing. Progressively, you begin to see yourself in his perspective or maybe, he really is just that great at taking photos.

Nonetheless, you’ve never seen yourself like this. Hair in action, caught in the sweep of the wind. Your smile is as bright as the moon, very natural and genuine happiness painting your face at something stupid that Johnny probably said. There you are among your own laughter and excitement, Doyoung captured such beautiful parts of you that you didn’t know existed.

Doyoung breaks the silence between the both of you, slowly reading your facial reactions at the pictures. He slowly inches closer, his head slightly above your shoulder.

“I can’t help, but notice how happy you look when you laugh. Your smile is contagious.” He whispers, swiping a few more photos to land on one that you wouldn’t have even recognized was yourself.

Your right hand brushes your hair out of your face and you’re smiling from ear to ear. It had to be a moment at dinner with him. Doyoung knew the reason behind that gorgeous smile was him. “So pretty.” His voice leaves a chill down your spine and goosebumps to rise on your arms.

He perks up at the sound of his name, “I’m genuinely confused.” You say, setting his phone down and looking at him with eyebrows furrowed together. “I know you’re a nice person so it could be just your mannerisms or the intimacy of sharing a bed, but I don’t want to misunderstand your intentions.”

“Oh,” Doyoung shifts away from you, the bed dipping at the movement as he scoots back over to his side of the bed. “I’m sorry if I came off as overbearing.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” You’re fighting with yourself, trying to decide if you should just confess. What is the worst that could happen? You’re stuck together in the same room for two more nights and he will know that you’re insanely attracted to him.

But there feels like a chance. You could be incredibly delusional and misreading everything. You sigh, unsure how to proceed with this conversation. Nonetheless, Doyoung can see how heavy your heart seems.

“Is there something I did?”

“No, forget it.” You’re pulling the blankets back over your body again, turning off the lamp on your side of the bed and staring up at the ceiling. Doyoung follows your lead, doing the same and the room falling into complete darkness. Your shaky breaths being the only audible noise in the silent space.

There is so much adrenaline in your throat, coursing through your veins at how close you are to just telling him.

“Just know that you can tell me anything. I know we’re not the closest of friends, but I feel like that’s sometimes better.” Doyoung turns to face you and you’re staring at him in the low light, making out the most gentle and comforting smile that puts your heart at ease.

“Doyoung, I like you and it’s not just because you’re a nice person, I have romantic feelings for you. I hope you can understand.” You’re all choked up that it makes Doyoung’s heart ache. Confessions are way harder than they need to be, but you did it. That's all that matters.

You didn’t need reciprocal feelings from him, you just needed him to be okay with it. He is silent for a while, his gaze dropping and wandering the sheets. He, too, is conflicted about how he should proceed.

Laying on your side, you face him fully. Doyoung peers up at the shift and his eyes are intensely gazing at you. Your heart is back thumping at your chest and drumming in your ears.

Before you know it, Doyoung is leaning forward and his lips land on yours softly. Your eyes remain open and in shock, but you kiss him back fruitfully. This long awaited kiss has finally fallen upon you, something you’ve wondered days on end how his lips taste.

Doyoung kisses your lips tenderly, almost as if he has waited for this moment too. Gliding effortlessly along yours and a sweet heat that lingers deliciously, he kisses like a shy romantic. You’re both too hesitant to touch one another, afraid of asking for too much. Your arms are stuck to your chest, hands in fists and tensions rising.

His knuckle lightly brushes your cheek, and as you close your eyes and settle into the kiss, you find yourself deepening it and free falling right into him. Desperation? It is the right amount to indicate how much you wanted it, how much you have craved him.

You are kissing Kim Doyoung. That thought alone could leave you grinning ear to ear for days. He doesn’t even know how much it affects you.

When you both pull away, Doyoung’s lips are pretty and plump. It compels you to give him a last quick peck and he chuckles cutely. His eyelids fall over his eyes ever so slowly, his long eyelashes dancing on his cheekbones and he looks surreal.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you this entire day.” Your heart would stop right there. His raspy confession has your whole face turning hot, “ever since I saw you in your pink swimsuit. You don’t know what you do to me.” He buries his shyness into his pillow. Seeing Doyoung like this is new, it’s so adorable that you don’t know how to react besides giggling at how shy he is. He usually holds himself up pretty well, getting embarrassed here and there by Johnny’s silly actions or boldness. Nonetheless, here he is, barely able to look you in the eyes and a pillow shielding his pretty face.

“Have you always felt this way?” Your fingers touch your lips, still in disbelief at the scandalous kiss you two just shared and coming to the realization that Doyoung could have felt this way this whole time.

“Since the moment I met you, you have always been endearing to me. But since you are practically Johnny’s non-biological sister, you felt out of reach.” Doyoung sighs, “I didn’t want to cross any boundaries or make it seem like I was some creep trying to hit on you through Johnny. I respect you a lot, y/n, and Johnny does too.”

His voice grows soft and his words are still so kind. Doyoung is effortlessly sweet and chivalrous. At times, you question how he and Johnny managed to be the best of friends. Doyoung is so outwardly soft and feminine, emotionally attuned and safe. Johnny is all those things as well, but not as clear as Doyoung.

Growing up, Johnny always felt like he needed someone like Doyoung to reassure him that boys can cry too. Although you never imagined that you would stumble upon a dream man like Doyoung, he lays next to you in bed with endless thoughts of you running at full speed in his head.

“I’m speechless.”

“I can tell.” Doyoung smiles, “I’ve kept my distance enough to not give you any impression of interest.” He coyly puts his arms behind his back and peers over at how stunned you look blinking back at him. “Let’s sleep, I want you to rest up for the day tomorrow.”

“I feel like this is going to keep me awake.” You slide down to lay firmly on your side to face him.

“Will sleeping in my arms help?” Doyoung extends his arm out for you to snuggle up next to him. You’re practically losing your mind at how forward he is, it’s as if five minutes early he wasn’t all shy about confessing to you. “Sorry, too much.”

Nonetheless, you dive right into him like it's all you’ve ever known. Your face hits his chest and the scent of his laundry detergent immediately hits your nose. His warm arm wraps around your upper back as he presses you closer. Planting a delicate kiss on your forehead, Doyoung rubs soothing circles on your back to help you sleep.

So if this was a dream, you hope to never wake from it.

The stuffy morning has you and Doyoung tiptoeing around one another. When you had woken up, Doyoung was already in the bathroom to freshen up and prepare for the day. You both had exchanged small good mornings before you had also disappeared into the bathroom. Now, you two silently get ready in your own corners of the room and nothing but the sound of clattering fills the air.

Did he have a sudden change in heart? You grow more confused with this man as it turns from day to night. Doyoung looks over his shoulder at you, noticing the eerie silence in the room.

“How did you sleep?” He asks, clearing his throat awkwardly. Good thing you two didn’t fuck or anything, you feel like that would make this moment even more awkward than it already is.

“Fine. You?”

Doyoung laughs, mostly to himself, as he remembers the position you two woke up in. “Seems like someone couldn’t let go of me last night, so I would say it was pretty good.”

Your embarrassment doesn’t shy away from being evident. Slowly, you turn to face him. Doyoung leans against the wall a relaxed fit, hair nicely falling above his eyebrows and a grin so taunting, you wouldn’t have believed it was his. He notices your lip quiver before you begin to speak and he reassures you once more.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s cute.” Doyoung makes his way toward you, his delicate hands holding your forearms quite lovingly and his kind smile tries to make you feel better. You both gaze into each other’s eyes like they’re all you’ve ever known in life.

This is so romantic. You’ve forgotten that you two aren’t dating.

“Would it be too much of an ask for us to start seeing each other?” He shakes his head without hesitation. Kissing your forehead, he can literally see how beautifully you admire him.

“I want to be with you.” He draws you in tighter. “I want to be yours.” Doyoung whispers. A chill runs down your spine. “However, you have to let me take you out on a proper date before we settle things. One where I ask you out, pick you up and bring you your favorite flowers.”

“I’d really love that.” It is no joke how incredibly immersed in this man you are. Never in your dreams would you think that a moment like this would exist between the two of you.

All it took was sharing a bed. If only Johnny had thought of that sooner.

[tkaulitzlvr]

SORRY - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: you were drinking your sorrows away after yours and tom’s breakup, receiving unwanted attention at the random club you are at, until the last person you expected to see comes to your rescue.

content: angst + smut

a/n: again pulled this out of my ass this is becoming a very common theme LOL. this isn’t what i wanted to post but it’s been a week since i last put anything out so i threw it together, def not my best work and i feel like all i write is angst to smut whoops, hope u all enjoy anyway and thank u for 500 followers!!

the alcohol soon takes over as i down another shot, the liquid burns my throat and only fuels my recklessness. not that i mind, in fact, it is exactly what i need. tonight i don’t want to feel - tired of the everlasting burden of my emotions. i want to be numb, nothing but an empty vessel, letting the alcohol lead the way opposed to my diseased mind. music blares through the speakers, probably loud enough to cause some serious damage to my eardrums. but i don’t know how long i have been at this club for, though it is long enough for my hearing to become accustomed to the thick bass pulsating through my body, no longer wincing whenever i would near the speakers.

intoxicated bodies encircle me whilst i make my way to the centre, some just like me - alone and drinking away their self pity. others dance with their friends, slurred giggles leaving their lips as they sloppily sway their hips to the music, covered in nothing besides their skimpy dresses. those that i envy don’t dance alone, but with a man beside them, hands on their body, faces inches apart. they are able to focus on the one person in front of them, tuning out the hundreds of people surrounding them. but, each person that i see all have one thing in common - they fit in. and i want that too, so bad, instead of feeling so misplaced - that feeling ripe within me, apparent ever since he left.

everyone knew about tom and i’s breakup, hell, how could they not? ‘germany’s biggest heartthrob - tokio hotel guitarist tom kaulitz, parts with model girlfriend after two years!’ - that’s a headline most reporters dream of, christmas having come early for them when the news came out. and it spread like wildfire, his fans - who were particularly notorious for not being entirely fond of tom finding a long term girlfriend - had hit the jackpot. they speculated, some saying that i cheated on him, some insistent on me being too controlling - others even going as far as to say i made him choose between me and the band. but when it came down to it, they were just rumours, plain and simple. no one is aware of the true reasoning behind it - only the two of us knew why we parted.

it was a mutual agreement, yet tom was the one that initiated it. the distance inevitably put between us as a result of him travelling on tours, from continent to continent, state to state, meant that we rarely saw each other, this putting stress on the both of us. i wanted us to work, more than anything, yet the way we drifted apart from each other made it impossible, being with him feeling like a chore as every small disagreement would blow way out of proportion, usually fixed by sex, the cycle repeating for the last few weeks of our relationship, until it reached breaking point. and i didn’t want to be used for my body, though i knew deep down tom loved me for more than that, fixing our problems with physical intimacy was only a temporary solution - leading to us parting ways.

that was one reason for our breakup, however the other was far more serious, and tom wasn’t even aware of it - but i had been speculating for a while. with his frequent travelling, i knew that i wasn’t the only girl in his life. how could i have been? he would go without seeing me for weeks, and whilst he had changed past his womanising ways, it would be stupidly naïve of me to think that he had moved on from that lifestyle completely. or perhaps my mind was tricking me, the loneliness i was often left to increasing the paranoia. though he had never explicitly given me the impression he was cheating, the thought always nagged in my mind, making the breakup slightly easier once he announced that we were no longer working. he promised that he still loved me, that maybe in the future things would work out, but i knew that was just a way to make our separation less bitter.

the constant articles, pictures, videos, and speculations of tom with other women each week lead me to the present, drinking my sorrows away a month after our breakup, wishing that i had never let him go despite agreeing that us parting ways would be the best solution. i was tired too, sick of fighting for a relationship that was no longer there. sometimes it felt utterly one sided, like i was the only one willing to try. tom refused to admit this, reminding me that "i know how much he loves me". however we just didn’t work anymore, his claims of our love like empty spews of desperation, but any words uttered from his beautiful mouth were words of truth to me, until i came to the soul-crushing realisation that he doesn’t adore me the way he did when we first met, all those years ago.

but god, every time i see pictures of him with a girl that isn't me, my heart wrenches at the sight, slowly tearing my insides apart as i recognise letting him go as my deepest regret. and the anger at not only myself, but him for leaving me eats me up, alcohol and temporary fixes being the only thing that can put my ill mind at ease.

but tonight tom isn’t on my mind. i’m desperate, longing for the touch of anyone who will give me the attention. that is why i left the house wearing nothing but a tight black dress that barely passed my mid-thighs. tom would never let me leave the house in such an outfit alone. he was always over-protective over me, loving the idea that I was his and only his. however he had left me, and i don’t care how promiscuous i appear, because admittedly, i am more needy than ever. my body running way ahead of my mind, i move sloppily to the rhythm of the music, feeling two hands grab my waist gently, pulling me into them as i turn around, seeing a tall-ish guy with fluffy blonde hair smirking down me.

he wasn’t tom. he could never be tom. nobody could. not a single person on this earth could even come close to him, could make me feel the way he did, both mentally and physically. right now it doesn’t matter, i don’t care who he is, because, on the surface, he is a male giving me attention, something which i have craved over this last month of loneliness.

"hi there." I utter drunkenly, slurring my words and backing further into him, the alcohol sinking more and more into my system as i no longer care who is dancing with me, this being the first time i have experienced physical touch since tom. and oh god how i’ve missed it. i’m a mess; a desperate, foolish fucking mess. if tom could see me right now, he wouldn’t recognise me. hell, i don't even know who i am anymore - in all honesty i had lost every part of what i thought i was the second he had walked out of the door. somehow, through the alcohol and attractive man behind me, tom is all my mind can focus on - his body the only clear image in there, beyond the fuzziness from the alcohol. i utterly despise the way he has such an effect on me, knowing that he has already gotten over our relationship despite the years we spent together, even before we had started dating, we had been close friends. using all the strength within me, i drown out every thought of him, attempting to enjoy the bitter-sweet freedom and get over him.

"what's your name beautiful?" the mysterious guy shouts over the crowd, tightening his grip on my waist.

"doesn’t matter." i reply. honestly, it didn’t - i probably won’t see this guy ever again, not after fucking him anyway. in any other circumstance, i would be scolding myself for giving myself up so easily, selling myself like some cheap slut. now though, i’m no longer myself, turning to face him, latching my arms around his neck. "what's yours?"

"alex." he responds, clearly not looking to make conversation, his dick appearing to be doing all the talking. "do you wanna get out of here?" he signals to the door, my head nodding eagerly in response, craving for any intimate moment no matter who it is with. part of me convinces myself that i am with tom, that it is him i am leaving the club with, as i would every single time. i imagine that it is him holding me with such adoration, that it is him soothing me in every way possible, yet i know that he is never coming back.

my body pushes its way through the crowd, uttering broken excuse me’s as i walk by, legs becoming weaker by the second as my vision slowly blurs. i soon pick up on the reality of the situation, disgust and shame echoing within me as i realise how fucked up my mind truly is. i am about to have sex with a guy who I have never met before - whether or not tom had broken my heart, i deserved to have morals. the rationality ticking in by the second, i roughly pull out of alex's grasp, his tall frame turning around in confusion.

"i- i have to get to my friends." i lie, totally aware that i came here alone, my words barely audible as my breathing becomes uneven.

"no, come with me, don't be like this baby." he smiles, pulling me along with him, tears soon clouding my vision as the chances of me escaping the situation seem to slip through my fingers before i can gather any sense of what is happening.

"let me go!" i muster all the courage and strength within me and yank my arm away, stumbling backwards into the cold brick wall behind me, the harshness causing me to shiver as i bite the inside of my mouth, praying for something, anything, to take me out of this situation. alex nears towards me, our faces inches apart as he towers over me, my body weak and defenceless against his.

"stop being such a bratty fucking bitch and just come with me-" he begins, grabbing ahold of my arm, only to be pushed to the floor in a matter of seconds, my head looking upwards in confusion to be met with a face i dreaded and longed to see at the same time.

"fuck off!" tom begins, squaring up to alex, who is useless against him, the height difference almost humorous. if i hadn’t been scared for my life seconds prior, i probably would’ve laughed, though the only thing i am truly able to process is the confusion that soon replaces any fear within me. "you ever go near my girl again and i'll break your fucking jaw. you understand, hm?" he shouts, alex smiling to himself and walking away, clearly not looking for a fight, though his cold glare moments ago said otherwise. his girl. i am everything but, closer to being the complete opposite, though i am too startled to consider questioning his words right now.

my body refuses to move, paralysed in utter shock, wondering whether the alcohol is causing me to hallucinate. i hadn’t seen tom since the day i moved out of his house, and now he is standing in front of me. and fuck, he looks good. it doesn’t matter that it has only been a month, somehow he seems to look much better, and undeniably different. his hair, usually a dark shade of blonde, the thick locks tied into a ponytail, adorned with whatever cap matched his outfit, is changed, almost so drastically it is hard to recognise him. instead, jet black braids rest on his shoulders, the colour mirroring his entire outfit - dark and cold. his cap is replaced with a small bandana, fitted securely around his forehead, the silver piercing on his lips now just as dark as his hair, matte black, making the soft shade of pink on his lips stand out even more.

though his new look is certainly a shock, the more daunting realisation comes merely from his presence. he is here - standing inches away from me. i am unable to gauge his next move, his expression still just as harsh as it had been once he had threatened that guy. however, any doubts i have are quickly put to bed, his tensed frame nearing mine, planting a calloused hand on my shoulder before pulling me into a tight hug, his thumb caressing my lower back whilst his other hand rests in my hair. i sob into his chest, failing pathetically to hide my emotions as i cling on to him, my small frame shaking due to the cold berlin weather and my irrational state.

"i’m so sorry." he mutters, resting his head on top of mine. i cannot respond, choking on my tears and unable to do anything but hold onto him as if he may slip away. my vision is slowly blurring, the countless drinks i had making their appearance as i realise how badly i have fucked up by coming here. beyond my intoxicated state, i realise that i don’t want to be this close to tom. i long to scream at the top of my lungs, something about how he made me feel, how fucked up he is, and how much i hate him, but right now i am too shaken to even stand up alone, so i save my breath and prepare to spew my feelings out when i have the energy.

"we need to get you home." he mutters, pulling away after a couple minutes. i stare into his eyes for the first time since we broke up, his immediately filling with hurt once he registers my damaged expression. "god, this is all my fault." he whispers under his breath, guiding me to his car, grabbing his jacket that he always kept in the back for instances like this, knowing that i get cold easily. it brings me some comfort knowing that he kept the jacket there, though it probably means nothing. he places it gently over my shivering frame before climbing into the driver’s side and beginning to drive to my apartment. the house that tom and i shared was in his name, meaning that i insisted on moving out. despite us breaking up, he helped me find a place, a decent sized two bedroom apartment in the heart of berlin. though it wasn't nearly as perfect as our home, it was something, and i am grateful for it.

i face away from him, not willing to forgive him despite my vulnerable state just moments before. no matter how much he protected me just then, i can’t place my trust in him, my heart and mind still wary, the thought of him discarding me for other girls so nonchalantly after we parted fresh in my mind.

"i missed you." he announces into the empty silence, his head turning in my direction whilst i scoff in response. "don't lie to me tom." his words bring anger coursing through my veins the second they utter from his mouth, sobriety soon taking over me as the alcohol quickly wares off. if he missed me, he wouldn't have fucked every girl he has seen this past month, he would have come back, or better yet, he wouldn’t have left me in the first place.

"i'm telling the truth." he begins, hesitantly turning his gaze to meet mine, my eyes filling with tears before i can attempt to collect my composure. "i regret leaving you. i need you to-"

"do you have any fucking idea what you did to me? i haven't been eating, sleeping, you've just seen me almost have sex with a guy i'd barely known for five minutes for gods sake!" i shout, my voice breaking as the tears cascade inevitably down my cheeks, unable to hide my vulnerability in this moment. he winces slightly at the mention of me nearly sleeping with alex, his grip on the wheel increasing whilst his jaw is clenched.

he is hurt. i have known him long enough to be able to distinguish how he is feeling without him saying a word. the pained look on his face almost pleases me, glad to see him guilty over the emotional turmoil he has caused me, because i long for him to grasp even a small segment of how i feel, and my small outburst has definitely achieved that.

"i’m sorry. i never deserved you, now even less than ever. i fucked up, badly. i have no idea how to make it up to you. help me, please schatz. i want to be better, for you." he finishes, pulling into his driveway as the dark grey gates open, revealing the house that i share so many memories in, yet it feels strangely foreign, like i don’t belong here, and i never did.

"sure doesn't seem like it." i begin. "from everything i've seen online you seem to have gotten over me pretty fast. thought you were better than meaningless sex, but i guess not. same old tom." i scoff, shaking my head in disbelief of his empty words.

"what are you talking about? i haven't had sex with anyone. not since you anyway." he fires back, staring into my eyes, and for some reason, i don't think he is lying, the amount of time spent with him across my life meaning i can read him like a book.

"whatever, i don’t have the fucking energy for this. besides, you said you were taking my home. this isn’t my house anymore, incase you fucking forgot.” i state matter-of-factly, not in the mood for continuing this conversation, or even being around him.

"you can barely walk. no way was i leaving you to go home alone. you can spend the night here." he replies assertively, stepping out of the car as i do the same, slamming the door shut in frustration.

"you don't have to protect me tom. we aren't together anymore." i respond bitterly, looking down at the ground, wishing it would swallow me up. his hand gently grazes mine, testing his limits as he attempts to take his hand in mine, to which i quickly refuse, pulling away and looking at him in confusion.

"what are you doing?" i hiss, looking upwards as he puts his hands up, surrendering.

"sorry just, please come inside, you're freezing in that tiny dress." not having the energy to argue, i reluctantly sigh, following him inside, taking in the all too familiar surroundings and immediately reminiscing on all the memories i have here, longing to go back to the time when things weren't so complicated.

"look i-" tom begins, however his words are soon shortened to a stop as i quickly cut him off, lethargic and carrying a lack of effort to argue with him, because i know that no matter how long i let him speak, the conversation will only end badly, turning even more sour than it already is right now.

"i'm tired, please can we talk about this in the morning." i sigh, my head pounding as i groan out in pain, massaging my temples slowly and closing my eyes.

"okay, you take our- my bed and i'll sleep in the guest room. there's some of my hoodies in there for you to sleep in." he responds, a look of defeat evident among his complexion, relief coursing through me as i nod my head, walking up to his bedroom. the countless nights i spent in this room, wrapped in his arms, the countless mornings i woke up to his affection, the countless evenings we shared intimate moments all seem to be lost as i feel a stranger here, almost misplaced without a sense of belonging.

i open the wardrobe, immediately knowing which door has his hoodies from when i would often steal one, something he is used to me doing. i pick out my favourite one. it is simple - a white hoodie with writing printed across its front. to others, it holds little meaning, however even after our breakup, it holds thousands of memories, because it is what he wore when we had our first kiss, and the first piece of clothing he ever gave me, this small act something i won’t ever be able to forget. slipping my dress off and the hoodie over my head, his scent quickly envelops me, providing with all the security i have been longing for, my mind quickly breaking down as tears cloud my vision, my desire to have him holding me taking over as i wish that we would have never parted.

climbing into the soft sheets, i attempt to fall asleep, any element of lethargy in my body fading away as i crave to be in tom’s arms like i have been each time i have laid in this bed. his side is cold and empty, my body shuffling over to it as i snuggle into his pillow, reaching out pathetically to any remnant of him i have left. seconds feel like hours of me thinking of him, wondering if he cares anywhere close to the extent that i do, finding myself longing to take a small look inside his mind, because all i want is his love. the darkness encloses me, silence echoing throughout the empty house and only fuelling my wandering mind. every thought flashes back to him, and i loathe how he can consume my entire being without even being aware of the effect he has on me.

eventually, my eyes begin to droop, almost falling into a somewhat peaceful slumber, however before i can do so, the door creaks open, light from the hallway leaking into the bedroom, before it is cast out seconds later with the soft click of the door closing, footsteps nearing the bed as i feel it dip beside me. my body is afraid to move, instead laying still in confusion until i feel a single hand brush against my shoulder, causing me to whip my head around, tom’s eyes gazing into mine.

‘i can't do it." he mutters, scanning my eyes with his own, only the seas of brown are filled with sorrow, slightly distinguishable through the darkness.

as much as i want to tell him to leave, to scold him for disturbing me when i was finally close to falling asleep, i simply can’t. i am compelled to him, silently thanking his impulsiveness and finding myself pleading for us to work things out.

"can't do what?" i respond, laying on my side and facing him, our bodies at each side of the bed as he is slightly reluctant to push my boundaries.

"live without you, i can't do it. i need you." he replies, slowly reaching his hand out until it meets mine, his fingers clasping mine in the centre of the bed, this small act of physical affection being the only thing that binds us together, yet it is more than enough.

"you broke me tom." i whisper, blinking away the tears as i refuse to cry again, tired of being so vulnerable around him. “do you realise that?”

"i know, and i’m so sorry schatz. i’ll never be able to make that up to you. but i want to try, can you let me do that? please baby." his body slowly nears mine, until our faces are inches apart. he removes his hand from mine, my face falling in disappointment, however this quickly turns into curiosity as it moves only to reach up and caress my cheek, wiping the single tear that had fallen with his thumb. i wither helplessly into his touch, feeling completely and utterly trapped within his affection. i am bound to him, left hopeless and attached. no matter how much i try fight, it is useless, my body and my mind is unable to function without him.

"it’s only you schatz." he mutters, his face nearing mine as he captures my lips in a sweet kiss, the first one we have shared in over a month. the way his lips fit so perfectly with mine, their softness contrasting with the harshness he showed me all those weeks ago, makes me wonder how i managed to live without this feeling all this time. he is a drug, his kisses addictive as i find myself longing for more, desperate to make up for the lost intimacy as a result of our separation.

"i love you." he whispers against my lips, reattaching them almost immediately with even more desire than before, sealing every unspoken apology in the most beautiful way possible. the darkness between us is a barrier, preventing my vision from witnessing the man above me. tom reaches quickly to flip the bedside lamp on, faded yellow light leaking dimly around the room, illuminating his features as i can finally see every part of him. and oh god, is he perfect. his lips plump and parted, tinted with a rosy shade of pink, adorned with that same piercing that drives me crazy each and every time, tired and shaky breaths erupting from them whilst i stare into his eyes, deep pools of brown that i could get lost in if i look for too long.

his body. crafted by god himself - concrete proof that he really does have favourites. each inch of skin soft and sheen, resembling silk itself whilst my fingers slowly trail down it, melting into the pale surface , past his chest to his chiselled abs, gently grazing the muscle and refusing to break eye contact. my hand creeps lower and lower, tom becoming increasingly flustered until they reach the waistband of his boxers. at an agonisingly slow pace, my finger slips inside, fiddling with the waistband whilst touching the skin there, refusing to move my hand any lower whilst i take in tom’s expression. his eyes are flickering between being fully closed and half-lidded, barely noticeable wrinkles lining his forehead as his eyebrows knit together, lips parted with shaky breaths uttering from them, the cold air fanning onto my face, heavy against his warm kiss.

"fuck- please don't tease." he whispers, resting his forehead against mine and beginning to slowly kiss my lips once again, my body feeling full again as i soon realise how much i missed this feeling. complying with his plea, my hand slips further into his boxers, a choked breath muffling into my mouth as i begin to gently move my hand up and down. he struggles to kiss back, soft moans escaping from his lips and mixing into mine in the most delightful way possible as i pick up the pace.

"oh my god..." he trails off, his voice vibrating into the soft skin below my ear once his head falls just below it, my movements not slowing, the slight whines emitting from his mouth pushing me further, desperate to please him. the fast and sloppy kisses being placed onto my neck soon slow down, giving me the signal that he is close. he clutches onto my waist, his fingers running up and down whilst his legs slightly tremble, his release taking over as he lets out a loud groan, a string of curses following until he slips his boxers off, regaining his composure and climbing fully on top of me.

our faces are inches apart, my ragged breathing echoing my desperation to feel him inside me, because it has been so long since i have experienced the feeling, and it is like no other. his thumb runs along my lips, pulling the bottom one downward slowly and releasing it, before moving his head to the nape of my neck, placing slow and gentle kisses.

"you have no idea what i want to do to you schatz." he mutters against my skin, nipping at it gently, these words alone almost being enough to let go, to lose any remnant of composure i have and allow him to take me right there and then. his calloused hands reach for the large hoodie draped over my frame, pulling it over my head as i am almost completely naked, my underwear being the only barrier between us and exercising those silent promises of our love on the tips of our tongues.

"so perfect." he whispers, caressing my cheek lightly. pressing himself against me, his hand reaches to caress my now exposed breast, kissing and biting at any skin he can get access to, inaudible spews of satisfaction swallowing the silence surrounding us, my hands pushing his head further downwards ever so slightly, savouring the pleasure and wishing it would last forever. he slowly pulls away, maintaining eye contact as he reaches for my panties, swiftly tugging them downward and discarding them somewhere across the room, like the rest of our clothing.

skin to skin, the warm and bare air a mirror to our nakedness, we kiss with such hunger, such desire that our need for each other is palpable, so strong that i swear if i tried, i could feel it. because he is that love, his body living and breathing evidence that this love is real, not something that can only be felt inside, though the fire that his touch ignites within me is one that will burn forever, as long as he vows to supply the heat that is his affection. my hands clutch onto his back, his roaming my waist and pushing our hips into each other, ragged breaths echoing throughout the room as i find myself becoming too impatient. although part of me wants to savour this moment as it is our first special one in over a month, one part of me, the more irrational side, wants him to ruin me, wants him to claim me as his own and do whatever his heart desires. i am his to destroy, because if it means that i can be with him for eternity, then i am willing to do anything.

"tom…i need you." i whisper helplessly against his lips, no longer able to mask my hunger.

he places one final kiss to my lips, stroking my hair gently and positioning himself to my entrance. my eyes squeeze shut in anticipation, relishing this feeling and preparing for the intense pleasure that i have been so empty without.

“then i’m all yours.” he speaks softly, sliding into me slowly before i am able to repeat my desperate plea. because if i tried, i know that my speech would be inaudible, struggling to breathe at the feeling of him filling me up.

unaccustomed to his size, or any dick for the last month, i wince in pain before he is even halfway in, gripping his bicep and giving him the signal to stop. "wait a minute." i state breathlessly, biting down on my lip as he stops his motion, gently stroking my cheek with his palm and awaiting my permission to carry on. feeling him stretch my walls fills the hole within me, once hollow and empty, however the pain takes longer to subside, tom slowly biting and kissing the sensitive skin on my jaw whilst he waits.

"c’mon baby, you can take it." he mumbles against me, the raspiness within his voice vibrating up my spine, motivating me to tune out the pain and allow him to pleasure me. "okay." i whisper, pleasure soon starting to take over as he moves into me, stopping and throwing his head back as he bottoms out, his tip hitting my g-spot perfectly, this being enough for me to cry out, my screams echoing throughout the room, the air thick with passion. his eyes are screwed shut, sweat lining along his forehead, his breathing ragged and uneven, yet he only increases his stamina, picking my leg up and placing it over his shoulder.

the new angle sends me into euphoria, my vision turning white as i can do nothing but scream his name, my fingers raking down his back. he memorises the way he hits my g-spot, doing it over and over again, bringing me closer to my release, yet i can tell he is not there yet, prompting me to hold it so i can share my high with him.

"fuck me..." his voice trails off, his eyebrows furrowing as he savours the pleasure. my legs wrap around his waist, bringing him closer inwards, if that is physically possible. somehow he is still going, not showing any signs of lethargy. he is desperate to meet his release, hips snapping against mine with such intensity, his head buried in the crook of my neck, the incoherent groans escaping from his mouth fanning over the bare skin, sending shivers down my spine.

"tom i'm so close!" i moan, knowing that i will not last much longer. i do not know if it is the absence of sexual intimacy in my life recently, or my intense desire for him, but this time around, my ability to contain myself is long gone.

"i know baby, i know..." he sighs out, the feeling him twitching inside of me silently letting me know that he is almost there too. "just hold it for me." overstimulation soon takes over, the feeling of him moving in and out of me providing me with such overwhelming pleasure that my mouth gapes open, no sound escaping as i am utterly speechless, drunk on the sensation and a complete mess beneath him. i could cry at the feeling, on the verge of tears with each stroke, wondering how this moment is reality, seeming entirely too good to be true.

"okay baby, let go." he breathes out, his voice shaky as it is soon cut off with a choked moan, his load shooting into me as mine soon follows. i swear i can see stars, my eyes not able to stay still, my whole body the same as it trembles uncontrollably, tom’s slow and steady thrusts sending me into oblivion as he rides out our highs, his lips hovering over mine. "oh my god" is all he can say, still inside me, his mouth eventually moulding with mine, the kiss filled with so much energy despite the amount of stamina that was used just seconds before.

i am not done yet, my body feeling like it has just started as i have the motivation to go one thousands times over, addicted to the way he feels. "let me be on top." i mutter against his lips, the pillowy skin battling to try continue kissing me. in one swift motion, he flips us over, moving upwards so that his back is resting against the headboard, his hands placed steadily on my waist whilst i sit on top of him. i waste no time, hovering over him and sliding downwards, letting him fill me up and sighing loudly as i do, tom tightening his hold on me and muttering a slow ‘jesus christ’, his voice low, words as sweet as honey as they sound from the back of his throat.

pressing open mouthed kisses against my jaw, neck, collarbone, anywhere he is able to access, he groans out in pleasure, his hands remaining steadily on my hips whilst i easily maintain my rhythm. with a slight change in the movement of my hips, his tip presses against my g-spot, the friction causing me to cry out, him doing the same as his head falls backwards, eyes squeezing shut, savouring the ecstasy. my hands lay flat against his chest, watching it heave up and down with each unsteady breath he takes, his muscles flexing with each squeeze of my waist, this only encouraging me to go further, the sight of him being pleasured by me almost pushing me to my release alone.

the feeling so good i question whether i have reached heaven itself, though my actions won’t get me anywhere near, my mind wanders how i survived for so long without him, without his dick inside me, without his hands on mine - because right now he is my oxygen, my sole purpose. i can barely catch my breath, my legs shaking uncontrollably whilst my hips circle around his, feeling every inch of him inside of me. my body leans forward, skin to skin, as i bite down on his shoulder, becoming increasingly tired, however i am so desperate for my release that i continue my slow and lethargic movements.

tom is quick to pick up on my change in speed, grabbing my hips once again and angling himself correctly, before thrusting into me from below, the sudden pressure causing a throaty moan to escape from my swollen lips.

"fuck…missed this, missed you so much baby." he mutters, his whole body tensing for a second whilst he begins to twitch inside of me.

"i’m close." he groans, meeting my lips in a sloppy kiss before i can respond. i don’t even bother trying to hold it, instead allowing my release to take over me, my vision turning white as i cling onto tom’s shoulders, my head buried in the crook of his neck, crying out in pleasure as it is so intense i almost feel myself slip away. his release soon follows, mouth gaping open, eyebrows furrowing and sweat glistening his chiselled frame, outlining his muscle in the most attractive way possible. he still strokes in and out of me slowly, his hands wrapped around my small frame, no space between us. my breathing ragged, hair a mess and body trembling, i pull away from his shoulder to look into his eyes, pressing my forehead against his as i can do nothing but admire him.

“shit- i love you so much." he manages to breathe out, moving a few stray hairs from my face and planting a last kiss on my forehead, slowly pulling out of me, the loss of contact making me whine slightly as i cling onto him, afraid of losing him ever again.

"i love you too." i respond, certainty uttering from every word as i find myself more in love with him, the best sex we have ever had replaying over and over again in my memory, our naked bodies pressed together.

"i promise you, i never slept with anyone else. i never even kissed another girl. i couldn't, it wouldn't have been right, not when you were the only person on my mind." he speaks slowly yet firmly after a few seconds of peaceful silence, pulling my body further onto his as he rests his forehead against mine, stroking my hair gently.

i move my head upwards, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "why not? there's so many girls that you could've had. what was stopping you?" i ask, lacing my hand with his and beginning to play with his fingers, the skin soft and smooth.

"the fact that they weren't you." he responds, gently lifting my chin upwards with his pointer finger, tenderly running his thumb along my cheek. "i never got over you. i hope you know that."

deciding that actions speak louder than words in this instance, i place my lips on his, sealing our love with a sweet kiss as he instantly kisses back, laying downwards flat against the bed whilst i am still on top of him. i slowly pull away, my entire body aching, eyes fluttering shut as a tired yawn escapes from my mouth. tom reaches over to turn the lamp off, laying down beside me and opening his arms out, my head resting on his chest, his thumb running comfortingly up and down my arm. "goodnight meine liebe." he whispers, my throat sore from our rendezvous, so i place a quick kiss on his chest in response, my eyes falling shut as sleep takes me. our legs entangled, bodies together, heartbeats aligned, i feel him now more than ever. not just physically, but i feel him mentally, spiritually, our mind and being merged together as one.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by the wonderful @chennqingg <3

One Last Chance [EoH]

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: Can you give Daryl one last chance and let him back into your life? After all, he never left our heart...

Warnings: mentions of drugs and alcohol, swear words, angst? fluff-ish ending

Pre-Apocalypse Era!

Word Count: 2k

a/n: I dunno why, but I truly love this story. It's a very important part of the EoH universe. I hope you enjoy it, too! ☺️

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

And I was there standing outside your door

Waiting for you to show me how to stay

~ 'Ready to Fight' by Roby Fayer & Tom Gefen

"Go home, Dixon," spoke the bartender with dreadlocks, tattooed arms and lip piercings, while she was polishing one of the glasses. Daryl sat on the other side of the bar; fifth glass of Whiskey in hands. "You've had enough, don't ya think?"

The younger Dixon brother shook his head and snuffled. "Nah. Ain't enough. Still gotta numb the pain." Chrissie - the bartender - snorted out an almost sarcastic laugh, before shaking her head as well. "Alcohol won't solve yer problem. Whatever it is."

Now Daryl was the one laughing sarcastically. "Yeah? Well, I learned it from ma old man. Didn't fail ta help him." Chrissie rolled her eyes. "You're not yer father, ya know? Try to be better than him."

Daryl answered nothing for a moment; let her words sink in. The noises around him were so loud... Clinking glasses, loud voices and 'Every Breath You Take' by 'The Police' blaring from the old jukebox in the corner - and yet all he could hear were his own thoughts and Chrissie's words.

He took another sip; swallowing hard. "'S about a girl."

The hint of a smile could be seen on the bartender's face. "Thought so." Her words caused Daryl to frown. "Why?" She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. "'Cause it mostly is. Yer not the first man sittin' here with lovesickness and a broken heart."

Once again, Daryl said nothing and just stared at his glass of Whiskey.

"What am I gonna do?"

Chrissie shrugged her shoulders. "Look, I dunno what the problem is, but I can tell ya this..." She threw the rug over her shoulder, leaned in closer to Daryl, "Go talk to 'er. 'S better than drowning yerself in alcohol." and took his almost empty glass away. The redneck shook his head. "Ain't workin'. Already tried. She ain't believin' me." Once more shrugged Chrissie her shoulders. "Then give her a reason to believe ya."

Those words struck Daryl to the core. Give her a reason to believe ya.

He lifted his gaze to meet the bartender's. "Fuckin' hell, yer right..." Chrissie winked at him. "I know. 'M usually right." Daryl stood up from the bar stool, "'S what 'm goin' to do." threw some money on the bar and immediately turned his back to leave for the door. Chrissie smiled; eyes following his figure vanishing in the crowd.

The redneck quickly made his way home. Well, as quick as possible with being definitely tipsy.

He staggered down the few steps, which led to his and his brother Merle's old, shabby basement apartment - if you could even call it an apartment. It was one room with an even tinier room attached, which served as a bathroom.

Daryl closed the door quietly behind him, but almost stumbled over a sleeping Merle, his empty beer bottles and stacks of Playboy and motorbike magazines with hot chicks on the covers. Merle grumbled and grunted in his sleep, but luckily didn't wake up. Daryl hadn't the nerve to argue with him now.

Reaching his little corner of the room, he rummaged through a pile of magazines, bills and other paperwork, until he found what he was looking for. With a victorious smile, he took the slightly crinkled envelope and made his way to the main door again. Why didn't he think of this right away? The possible solution to the situation he was in and the cure to his heartache was right in front of his eyes for days - maybe even weeks! He just had to grab it. And that's what he did now.

Fifteen minutes later, he sat in a train; heading for Toccoa - your hometown. It took Daryl less than an hour to get to your parental home. He swallowed hard as he set foot on the porch; not exactly great memories flooding his mind.

Running his hand over his face, he took a deep breath and rang the doorbell; praying that you'd open the door and not your mom. Or, if Daryl was very unlucky and your dad would open the door, he was pretty much fucked.

Nervously chewing on his thumbnail, he heard footsteps approaching the door, before it swung open.

Life truly hated him.

Fuck, the redneck thought; fighting the urge to close his eyes.

As soon as your father's eyes met his, the older man's expression hardened. "What are you doing here?" The grey haired man spoke in a harsh voice; crossing his arms over his chest. "I told ya that I never wanted to see your fucked up ass on my yard again - and yet here you are..."

Well, let's put it that way... Your father didn't exactly like Daryl. Neither did your mother. They were convinced that he was nothing but a lost cause. A loser. An alcoholic - like his father. A junkie - and certainly very bad company.

In your mom's opinion he was too old for you and your dad said that he'd rather see you die as a single woman than being together with a man like Daryl.

The chestnut brown haired man clenched his jaw; tried to keep himself together.

"I wanna talk to Y/N. She here?" "Yeah, she is - but I won't let ya talk to her. Never again. Now get lost, before I do something I might regret."

Daryl snorted out his breath. "I ain't lettin' ya forbid me to talk to 'er. She's a grown woman. Ain't a lil' girl anymore. You can't tell her what to do!" Now your dad was laughing out loud, "What do you want to do, huh? Break into the house? Strike me down? Or even kill me right away?" before he gestured around. "Please... Do so. The cops are here faster than you can run - or wait... Are you even able to run? I'm sure you've taken a ship loads of drugs since I lastly saw your sorry ass."

Anger started to boil in the redneck's veins - and he had a really hard time controlling it. But, he also knew, that he could not fuck this up now. He was here to fix things... Not to break them even more.

"You ain't know shit 'bout me or what I do. None of yer business anyways." Your father took a threatening step closer to Daryl. "Oh, I know enough, Dixon. And since you try to get your dirty hands on my daughter, it is my business what you do," the older man snarled; raising his voice.

Daryl also took a threatening step closer; causing the both men to stand mere inches away from each other. The tension was literally cuttable with a knife - but not in the good kind of way...

"Oh yeah?! Well, lemme tell ya this then. I-"

Daryl got cut off by a voice which didn't belong to the man standing opposite him. It was your voice.

"Hey! What the hell is going on here?!" You literally stormed through the door, seeing your (boy)friend and father almost being at each other's throat. "Well, I'm tryin' to tell your junkie ex-lover to move his ass from our property." "I ain't a junkie, you-" "I am a what, huh?! C'mon, say what ya have to say!" Your father immediately cut off Daryl. In return he planted himself straight in front of your dad threateningly; chest puffing.

That was the moment you knew you had to intervene, before something bad would most likely happen. "Stop! Both of you! That's enough!" You yelled and got in between them; pushing Daryl a few steps back - and he let you. Unbeknownst to you, took your sudden touch almost his breath away.

"For fucks sake, we are all adults here! Can we please behave like such, please?!"

Daryl immediately threw you a sorrowful look; while your dad still held his distrustful gaze. You looked both men dead in the eye, "Thanks." before you directed your attention fully on Daryl. "Why are you here, Daryl?"

The redneck swallowed hard. "'M here ta talk. Please." You took a deep breath, but nodded; "Alright." then turned to face your father. "Just a few minutes, okay?" He eyed you critically. "Please, dad?" You added; hoping to get through to him.

Silent second after silent second ticked by until he finally nodded. "Alright. But if he's not gone in ten minutes, 'm calling the cops. Are we clear?" Now you were the one nodding and agreeing to your dad's 'terms'.

With a last threatening look thrown at Daryl, the older man returned inside the house.

Once more, you met the beautiful blue-greyish eyes of the man who had undoubtedly captured your heart. For quite a few moments the both of you just stared at each other, until you cleared your throat. "What do ya want to talk about?" Daryl swallowed hard again; Adam's apple bobbing. "I miss ya..." The man whispered; causing you to immediately inhale deeply. "Daryl..." "No, please... Hear me out." You shook your head; crossing your arms over your chest. "We've had this conversation about a trillion times already..." "I-I know, but..." Daryl stepped closer to you. "Please. This time, 's different." "You say that every time, Daryl. And every time I gave you another chance and every time you fuck it up again," you paused for a moment; already trying to suppress the tears, before you continued. "Look, I really want to choose you, but... You're makin' it difficult."

The chestnut brown haired man squeezed his eyes shut for a moment; feeling the chilly evening breeze brush his bare arms and slip through the holes in his jeans. Chewing on his bottom lip, he nodded. "I know. Shit, I sure know I did. And I also know that I don deserve another chance. Problem is, that I fuckin' love ya, Y/N. 'M life's shit - but it's worse without ya, so please... One more chance. 'M beggin' you."

By now you were really fighting the tears. Still did his words cut deeper than a knife - because you felt the same. "I-I miss you too and you know that I love you more than I can say, but... I don't know how long I can play this game... I don't know if I can trust you over and over again, only for you to break it."

Daryl started to shake his head and took another step closer. "Nah, ain't fuckin' it up this time." He handed you the envelope, which was stowed away in his back pocket. You took it with a frown, "Open it." but did what Daryl told you.

Unfolding the piece of paper, your eyes widened. You certainly didn't expect that. "You... You've got an invitation for a job interview?" He nodded; hope sparkling in his eyes. "I-I- Wow... Didn't expect that, but... It's great for you." The redneck shrugged his shoulders half-heartedly; "Tried ma best, I suppose." giving you the hint of a smile.

"Whatcha sayin', sunshine? One last chance?" You took another deep breath; trying to thoroughly think this through. "I ain't goin' to fuck it up... Please."

What your heart wanted was clear. There was no mistaking, but... Was it the right thing to do?

You closed your eyes for a moment; knowing already that your wit had lost the game. Your heart was stronger. "Alright," you started and reached out your hand to subtly take his in yours. Daryl shuddered at your touch; goosebumps forming on his skin. "One last chance, Mr. Dixon."

Utter relief flooded the man's face - you could tell. He smiled that sweet, crocked smile you loved so much. "Thank ya. I won't disappoint ya. I promise." You lifted your free hand and cupped his cheek; feeling his stubble on your skin. "This was never about disappointment, Daryl..."

Daryl leaned into your touch and moved even closer; his intention clear - but you pulled back. "Not now. Not here. If my dad sees..." You swallowed hard. "We should keep that - us a secret for a while. I dunno what happens if we don't do that..." The redneck took a step back; nodding and lowering his head. "Yeah... Yer right."

You gave his hand a squeeze. "You should go now... Not that my dad really calls the cops. I wouldn't want that."

Daryl knew you were right, so he dropped your hand and walked down the steps leading to your porch. "I'll see ya?" He asked you; voice filled with hope. You smiled; nodding. "Yeah."

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @mischief-dream @whore4romance @bigbaldheadname @stitchintimefan @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @mikaela-granger @sweetz1919 @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @stiveroon @cakesandtom @dixons-sunshine @mayday2007

[anthurak]

Ruby's and Yang's Family Reckoning

Has anyone else noticed how each of the post-Beacon arcs thus far have featured a member of Team RWBY returning home and reconciling/repairing issues with their family? Volumes 4 and 5 had Blake returning to Menagerie and reconciling with her parents, while Volumes 7 and 8 had Weiss returning to Atlas and helping repair the broken relationships with her siblings and mother.

With that in mind, I think it’s easy to imagine that Volumes 10 and 11 will be Ruby’s and Yang’s turn to sort out their long-standing family baggage. I mean, they’ve got two of their parents/parent-figures already in Vacuo, the third and their childhood home is just a quick bird-mom-portal away, and it turns out they ALSO recently got information that their fourth parent might not be as dead as they thought.

And here’s the other thing: we’ve also seen an escalation in just how complicated, dysfunctional and overall ‘fucked-up’ the family issues faced by our heroines have gotten over the last two arcs.

As many have noted, Blake has the only unambiguously good parents among her team, with the worst of the ‘issues’ they had to deal with being some simple estrangement. Instead, the real family ‘issues’ Blake had to deal with Volume 4 and 5 was reclaiming her family’s legacy, ie; the White Fang, from Adam and the Albain brothers.

Then we went from that, to the long-abused mess that is the Schnee family.

So going off that trend, as well as several other factors…

Yeah, I have NO doubt at this point that the STRQ family is going to find a way to be an even BIGGER fucked-up, messy, dysfunctional train wreck that Ruby and Yang are going to have to sift through and repair.

Now I know some people are probably wondering how Team STRQ could possibly be worse than the Schnees? After all, they had actual Worst-Dad™, Jacques Gele. How could Summer, Taiyang, Qrow and Raven be worse than that?

Here’s the thing though: The Schnee family may have been a wreck, but it was also a fairly uncomplicated wreck with a singular, easy-to-understand root cause; one utter shitbag who was making life terrible for everyone else. And the solution to the family problems (or at least the START of the solution) wound up being likewise simple and straightforward; just kick out the aforementioned utter shitbag and the family can start healing. I mean, it took less than a day after Jacques was given the boot for Weiss, Willow, Whitley and even Winter to make major steps in patching things up between them.

The STRQ family on the other hand aren’t going to be anywhere NEAR that simple. They are ACTUALLY messy and dysfunctional and complicated and ambiguous and all the other things fandom claims to love yet more often seems to just break their black-and-white-morality-loving brains when they actually see it.

Because unlike the Schnees, Team STRQ DOESN’T actually have just one terrible person who can easily be pointed to as the root cause of their problems (No, not even Raven)*. Instead, I think it’s becoming more and more apparent that Summer, Raven, Qrow and Tai are simultaneously good people who all love their daughters and genuinely want the best for them, and are also all MASSIVE dysfunctional fuck-ups in each their own way who have FAILED Ruby and Yang as parents in one way or another.

Summer the ‘supermom’ who also obsessively chased her hero-complex into martyrdom.

Raven the ‘daddy had a good reason for leaving you’ who actually didn’t have a good reason.

Qrow the ‘cool uncle’ who’s actually spent the last 15+ years wallowing in alcoholic depression.

Taiyang the at-first seeming ‘reliable’ father who turns out to actually be a MASSIVELY dysfunctional wreck.

All while Ruby AND Yang can both state openly and matter-of-factly that YANG was the one to RAISE RUBY. The kind of sibling relationship we might generally expect to see in two orphans. Which does NOT, in any context, speak highly of the parenting they received.

And I think Volumes 10 and 11 are going to be when the story finally shines a light on all those problems and forces Ruby and Yang to finally confront them.

Simply put, I think this is going to be when the story effectively yanks the rug out from under us and flips the script on basically everything we, plus Ruby and Yang, long assumed about Team STRQ has been wrong. Or alternatively for Ruby and Yang, everything that’s been right in front of them, yet have been refusing to confront all this time.

Things like just about everything Yang thought she knew about her family when she explained her backstory to Blake in Volume 2 (and which has served as the basis for nearly ALL of our assumptions about Team STRQ) turning out to be wrong in one way or another.

Or things like Taiyang being shown to be just as big a dysfunctional fuck-up parent as Qrow and Raven.

Or things like Qrow being called out for ditching the family pretty much just as much as Raven did to join Ozpin’s secret society.

Or Raven turning out to be Ruby’s dad.

Or Summer turning out to NOT actually be dead and is basically Salem’s Darth Vader via horrific grimm-hybridization.

And ultimately, just how much Summer, Raven, Qrow and Taiyang all FAILED Ruby and Yang as their parents, as illustrated, once again, by the fact that Ruby considers her primary parent-figure to be none of them, but rather YANG.

Ever since Volume 1 featured songs like Red Like Roses Part 2 and Gold, the fact that Yang raised Ruby has been a proverbial Sword of Damocles hanging over Team STRQ. Representing the fact that that ALL of them, Summer, Raven, Qrow and Tai, FUCKED UP as parents.

And I think in the next couple volumes, that sword is finally going to fall.

--

*Okay, maybe Ozpin.

[rainestorm05]

Ramshackle Origins Perditions/Head canons

First up, the somewhat easy one, Stone: Since us doodle followers for the Ramshackle fandom, we already know about Stone's sister Avrill. Knowing that our boy was from a rich family, I can guest two causes on what I think became his downfall to the streets. The first one being they lost their parents at a young age, giving big sister all the inherited money to spoil rotten. Leaving Stone resenting both her and the rich assholes he had to deal with for most of his life. And since he probably had no one else to talk about his problems, he resulted in one of adult's common solutions to cope; alcoholism. My guess is that during his drunken state, he did something so ridiculously embarrassing, Av disowned him into the streets to save her and the family's public image. Or two, parents never died and just favored Avrill more for probably being more sociable. And instead of being somewhat good parents and teach their son the ropes, they just expect him be like that and be disappointed when he fails. Same outcome would happen, only the parents diched him in the streets.

Next, the golden retriever incarnated, Skipp: I like to think his parents were good people who loved him very much, however, unfortunate circumstances happened. Mom was a sweet town baker until dying from childbirth, and dad was a kind and musician dreamer who tried to raise him as best he could but couldn't financially do it in the end and had to give Skipp to an orphanage for a better chance in life. Unknown to him at the time, that place became his son's number one hell until he met Vinnie, who both decided to take their chances at the streets knowing they're not wanted, and no one wants to adopt them.

Lastly, Vinnie, the goblin leader: Judging by her natural chaotic nature to scam as much people as she can, I like to think either both or one of her parents are wanted criminals. Why they gave her up? Either they didn't want their kid out on the run with them for all her life and wanted her to have a better life, or they got her by accident, and didn't want any parent responsibilities to distract them from their heists.

If I get right in any of these for the show's futures, then yippee! If not, then all when, I just did this for fun.

[mooztoonz]

“To Alcohol!”

“The cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems.”

[humblequestvinyl]

just married

JUST MARRIED, EDDIE DIAZ X FEM!READER

APART OF THE 'ROLLING UP THE WELCOME MAT' SERIES

SUMMARY: after leaving LA, y/n flies to nashville, reflecting on her marriage with eddie, staring at the pictures of the two on their wedding day, wondering how they went from love, to just married.

inspired by just married by kelsea ballerini

previous chapter, | next chapter,

lowercase intentional! wc: 1.07k

warning: mentions of sex (no smut), divorce, swearing, marriage problems, brief alcohol mention.

a/n: THIS IS SO SHORT I AM SO SORRY BUUUT! i am so excited about this series, and im SO SO SO excited to write the next chapter !!! 

“SO YOU AND EDDIE ARE GETTING A DIVORCE BECAUSE HE WAS COMING HOME LATE?”

“i’m sure that there was a good reason for the fact that he was coming home late. there has to be.”buck tried to reason with the girl, and she shook her head slightly as she fixed the glasses that were on top of her head, “you two could’ve worked that out!”

“it was more than that buck.”she whispered, trying everything she could not to cry, “there was more than just that buck, we haven’t been on the same page for years.”

“y/n, you and eddie are the only thing that makes sense in my life. if the two of you break up, nothing in this world makes sense.”buck stressed, and y/n stood in front of him, with her hands shaking.

“buck the only reason i’m in LA is to sign the divorce papers. our marriage started to fall apart years ago.”she tried to tell him, but buck couldn’t accept it, “it started 10 months after we got married.”

—

(ONE MONTH BEFORE.)

“I WROTE A NEW SONG.”

y/n announced as she sat down with her producer brynn, who gave the girl a look as the h/c girl sat on the floor of the studio,  “i was looking at the old wedding pictures i had up in the apartment last night and started writing.”

“what’s the lyrics?”brynn questioned, before y/n pulled out her phone, and opened up her notes app, grabbing the lyrics.

“i don’t think i lied when i said i wanted that life.”she started, tapping her fingers against the ground, with her wedding band still in plain view, “maybe i was too young to understand what i wanted at all.”

“but baby it was true, with all that i knew, it felt like forever that december two.”she went on, not daring to glance up, knowing her bloodshot eyes would give away everything, “a fairytale start, with us crossing our hearts, we rode off in a car that said “just married.””

she stopped herself after the first verse, before clearing her throat and pushing her beanie down on her head more, “the rest of the lyrics are a bit rough and have to be cleaned up if we’re able to do that today.”

“yeah of course.”brynn nodded, before grabbing out a notebook and a pen, helping the girl fix up the lyrics, before they had quickly moved onto creating a sound, one that reminded the h/c girl of a wedding song.

“i don’t know what i’m supposed to do with my wedding dress now.”y/n’s voice rasped as they took a little break, and brynn looked at the girl with such sadness in her eyes, knowing exactly what the girl was going through.

“if you do anything with this song, either releasing it as a single or even have a music video for it, wear your dress in it.”brynn suggested, and the singer shrugged, picking at the rug of the studio floor, “it’s a gorgeous dress, and you can create better memories with it.”

“i feel bad about wanting out knowing chris is going to get caught in the middle of all of this.”she whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill as she thought about the boy who she adored, “i just couldn’t stay there any longer. i couldn’t continue killing myself over a marriage that was one-sided.”

“and you shouldn’t have to.”brynn reassured the girl, grabbing her hand and giving it a comforting squeeze, “in this instance, you have to put yourself first, and if leaving is the solution, then so be it.”

“chris will forgive you.”brynn told her, causing y/n to look up at her, “i’ve met the kid. he will forgive you.”

after a bit, y/n got up wordlessly and walked into the studio with the notebook, giving it one shot to sing the entire song without crying, which is something she hadn’t been able to do yet. once she got through the first part of the song, she looked up at brynn who gave her a reassuring smile.

“long distance text, make-up-for-time sex, tired of asking when i’ll see you next.”she sang, with flashes of memories from when she would constantly text eddie, asking when she would be able to see him next, the endless booked flights that he constantly missed to go and see her, “i’m too mad to fight, so i’ll stare and cry at the picture of you, and me wearing white.”

“just married.”

“but i wasn’t made for fixing a plate, and keeping our problems buried.”she went on, feeling her heart shatter into a million pieces, just like a plate would after it had been dropped onto the ground, “no i wasn’t strong enough to hold on, with all of the weight i carried.”

“yeah it was love, then it was just married.”

flashes of her wedding went through her mind, with the vivid taste of veuve they had drank as their celebratory drink on her taste buds. their vows ringing through her mind, always promising to stick by each other throughout everything.

everything little memory of the past five years tainted from her soon to be ex husband, and every little thing they had done together.

“but dammit i wish i wasn’t this ready, to undo i do.”she paused, swallowing hard, knowing she had one more verse left before she was finished with the song, “but i wasn’t made for fixing a plate, and getting divorced sounds scary.”

“but i’m just not strong enough to hold on, with all of the weight that i carried.”she admitted, playing with the strings of her hoodie, knowing she was at the finish line, “yeah it was love, it really was.”

“then it was just married.”

[intricate-ritualz]

Facing You

i tried to find myself in those eyes

i have a little pond,

barely 3 feet at its deepest.

a little pond my dad dug up and filled

with water.

we keep fish in it.

goldfish, koi.

barely 3 feet at its deepest, but trust me.

they’re fine over the winter.

“Scientists have discovered how goldfish and their wild ilk survive months of winter in frozen-over lakes of oxygen-free water. The answer is alcohol – the cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems” (The Register).

one time, a fish got sick.

when a fish gets sick you separate it from the rest,

naturally.

2.

as may be expected; of course

“naturally, I hoped for the best”

we kept this little sick fish in a little bowl inside. (Naturally)

a little bowl barley 3 inches at its deepest.

a little calico sick fish in a little bowl.

barely 3 inches at its deepest.

the fish died.

the little calico sick fish died alone away from its fishy friends. alone and little and calcio and sick

but i so wanted it to live,

trust me.

i didn’t want hard enough,

i guess.

anyways

ANYWAYS my point is

i saw that little calico sick fish in those eyes

i saw the feeling you get right before you fall asleep

you know? when you’re just about to be gone

the warm heaviness of it you know

i saw the feeling you get when you're just about to be gone

and all of a sudden it feels like you’re falling

you know?

i saw those eyes melt into spring and then freeze all over again

and i guess if i was religious i’d say i saw god

but i’m not,

trust me

but most importantly

most IMPORTANTLY

i saw;

myself;

ofc u did 🙄

,” you say

“Eyes are more mirror than window.”

you don’t even get it,

truust me

Facing Away From You

a song.

Would it be so weird to see you? / Would it hurt so much to try / To stop the bleeding on your tongue by pressing it up against mine?

-(My Ex, my best friend, idk idk IDK

-Sleeping

-Spring time

-God

-A little calico sick fish

i tried to find myself in those lyrics,

(swears it’s the worst thing they’ve ever written, but i still tried to find myself nonetheless)

they probably* weren’t even about me.

*They weren’t

“Of course you tried to find yourself somewhere you never even stepped foot,” you say

and i say

songs are more mirror than window?

One word from you and I would / Jump off of this ledge I’m on, baby / Tell me, “Don’t,” so I can crawl back in

-

[sinisterexaggerator]

Since you are in a Hondo mood may I request headcanons for Hondo x pirate reader (not part of his crew) /both NSFW and SFW if you are up to it if not thats completely ok/

Hmm, slightly vague, but I will do my best. And since you did not specify, I will try to make this gender neutral.

SFW:

Your boss is a threat to the Ohnaka gang. Hondo meets you for the first time on the field. You are the one thing to catch his eye. He cannot begin to understand why you work for this scoundrel who is causing him such grief.

He finds your skills in battle to be impressive. Your wit and abilities at improvisation in tough situations is just the type of help he needs, and you are exceptional eye candy to boot.

Perhaps he openly flirts with you. Fraternizing with the enemy is not beneath him as we all know. He has a purpose, however: coax you away from your current employer-er, captain.

To your bosses chagrin, it works. You are labeled a deserter. Hondo is none the happier to have gotten one over on him, while at the same time gaining a new addition to his crew – and a most attractive one at that.

He finesses you with the grand tour of Florrum, talks up his wealth, and shows off his holdings. Of course, he also warns should you try to steal from him, or double-cross him, no matter how attractive you may be, your punishment will be tantamount to your offense.

Of course, he mostly says this for dramatic effect. But he also wants you to know he is not a push over, though a generous Pirate King he may be. Do not take Hondo Ohnaka for granted, for he will notice, and quite possibly applaud you, but from then on do not be mistaken, you are on his shit list.

NSFW:

Hondo had his eye on you from the start. He would be quick to work his magic. It does not take much for you to be convinced to join him for a bit of afterhours entertainment.

Should he desire to be alone, yet have access to booze and music, he clears his extravagant hall and forbids anyone to step foot inside until the morning.

Here you may dance, drink, and sing songs together or act a fool. He would be curious about your personality, how you behave outside an audience, or how you might find him once you are by yourselves.

Do not be surprised he lays his charms on thick. He is an excellent storyteller, and his jokes are on point nearly every time. He regales you with tales of his past. You drink in everything he has to offer, including alcohol.

One thing leads to another, and before you know it, you are flat on your back and Hondo is fucking you against one of the many large tables in his fortress.

Oh, it is sloppy. He says dirty little nothings in your ear, slathered with compliments and romantic notions, putting you high on a pedestal.

His touch is temperate. Gentle. Although, this man is a switch and can change his tactics at a moment’s notice should you ask for or require it. He tests the waters, should he not be so far gone he still has hold of all his senses, treating you as royalty though he is considered to be king.

Kisses pummel your flesh, his lips soft and luxurious against your skin. His deeply resonate voice is like music to your ears. He is wholly attentive to your every need.

You have never been treated so well in your life, Hondo making you climax over and over. Should you have any difficulty reaching your peak, Hondo focuses all his efforts in such a way that it is reminiscent of solving a puzzle or diagnosing a problem until a solution can be found.

This moment is about you. Hondo will drive you to the edge and have you begging for more. He is an incredible lover, and it will be hard for any to compare once you have had a taste.

It is suffice to say you will not be going anywhere anytime soon. You are his, and happy to follow in his footsteps.  

[wrongydkjquotes]

"To alcohol! The cause of and solution to all of life's problems!"

Cookie Masterson

(Source; Homer Simpson, The Simpsons)

[andichoseyou]

Fortnight - lyric analysis and interpretation

"I was supposed to be sent away, but they forgot to come and get me"

The opening lines convey a sense of abandonment and neglect. The narrator is feeling overlooked. Possibly referring to a time when she expected a significant life change or an intervention that never occurred.

"I was a functioning alcoholic 'til nobody noticed my new aesthetic"

She is dealing with her issues in silence or changing in ways that those around her are unaware of. Her problems (or alcoholism) have been managed well enough that they do not interfere with her daily life to the point where others do not notice the change in her behavior or appearance.

"All this to say, I hope you're okay, but you're the reason"

In this line, she addresses someone directly, conveying a complex sentiment that includes both well-wishing and acknowledging the hurt or betrayal this person caused.

"And no one here's to blame, but what about your quiet treason?"

Suggests that, while no one is directly responsible for the fallout, there is an underlying betrayal that she cannot ignore.

"And for a fortnight there, we were forever, run into you sometimes, ask about the weather"

A fleeting moment or relationship that appeared timeless or destined to last but ultimately did not. There has been a shift toward more distant and possibly awkward interactions, with all the previous intimacy reduced to small talk.

"Now you're in my backyard, turned into good neighbors, your wife waters flowers, I wanna kill her"

There has been a shift in the relationship status, from whatever intimacy or closeness existed to becoming neighbors, which implies physical proximity but emotional distance. The final lyric reveals deep animosity or jealousy. The wife watering flowers, a mundane and peaceful activity, contrasted with the narrator's violent desire reveals her unresolved feelings for the person she is singing about.

"All my mornings are Mondays stuck in an endless February"

She is constantly depressed and bored. Mondays are traditionally regarded as the beginning of the work week and are frequently associated with a lack of enthusiasm. February can represent cold and darkness. This is a metaphor for a prolonged state of sadness or discomfort.

"I took the miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary, and I love you, it's ruining my life"

She attempted to heal and move past emotional pain, possibly through a quick fix or superficial solution, but it proved ineffective in providing long-term relief and happiness. Saying she loves someone, but it is ruining her life is another statement that elicits strong emotions. Loving someone deeply while acknowledging that this love is causing significant personal turmoil.

"I touched you for only a fortnight, I touched you, but I touched you, and for a fortnight there we were together"

Emphasizes how brief the close and intimate phase of a relationship can be. Demonstrating how even brief connections can have a profound and lasting impact.

"Now you're at the mailbox, turned into good neighbors, my husband is cheating, I wanna kill him"

The transition from being in a close/intimate relationship to becoming "good neighbors" who occasionally cross paths at the mailbox shows a significant shift in the relationship's dynamics. Moving to a more distant and friendly acquaintance. The mundane interaction at the mailbox exemplifies how ordinary life continues despite previous intense emotions. She admits she wants to kill her husband because of his infidelity, revealing the anguish and betrayal it has caused her. The desire for retribution reflects pain and possibly a sense of being trapped when emotional ties cause harm.

"Thought of calling ya, but you won't pick up"

In this passage, the narrator expresses how much they want to reach out to this person. They would like to make contact, implying a desire to talk or even make amends, but they expect rejection because they think the other person won't pick up the phone.

"Another fortnight lost in America"

Could represent a sense of aimlessness or being adrift, not just in the relationship, but also in life. This sense of lost time is prolonged and recurring.

"Move to Florida, buy the car you want, but it won't start up 'til I touch, touch, touch you/'til you touch, touch, touch me"

They are looking for a new beginning or attempting to fulfill their desires in order to progress or find happiness. Florida is frequently associated with sunshine, retirement, or escape, which reinforces the theme of seeking a change in environment or circumstances to alleviate their unhappiness. However, even these actions are futile without the touch of the person they desire.

[jaesqueso]

member: mark

▶︎ “Currents” by Tame Impala

genre: best friends au

3.5k follower celebration ❤︎

word count: 846

warnings: a little bit of fluff, a little bit of angst, mentions of kissing, parties and alcohol

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

People say a boy and a girl cannot be just friends. Well, you and Mark lived proving all those people wrong. Inseparable since kindergarten, you always went to the same schools, were practically neighbours and ended up on the same group of friends.

Everybody agrees high school sucks, but it’s not as bad if you have someone like Mark Lee by your side to get through it. You talk about anything and everything, family problems, school problems, even girl/boy problems. Not that you any of you actually had a relationship with anyone during that time but you’d talk and give advice about your crushes and hook ups. You could tell him things you couldn’t tell anyone else, and same for him.

On hot summer nights you’d lay down under the stars on one of your backyards and talk about the future. Sometimes he was an ice cream man and you a lifeguard, other times he was an author and you a barista, or he was a music teacher and you were an actress. No matter the scenario you made up, there was always one constant, you and him. Best friends for eternity.

You two even managed to go to college in the same city, not the same one but you still got to hung out. Everything seemed perfect but then things took a turn.

They say people never change but that’s bullshit, they do. He had new friends, you had new friends, so you started to hang out less and less. You used to text all day, now messages would be left unread. It was getting harder to meet up and the times you managed to do you’d either sit in silence or start arguing about some random thing.

After a week of literally no contact you ran into Mark at a frat party. Leaning against a wall, there he was, giggling way to close to some random girl. You don’t know what came over you but you just couldn’t look at that so you went upstairs to find a bathroom with no line and take a calm yourself down. Could this be jealousy?

Staring straight into the mirror you told yourself it didn’t bother you but it hit you like an arrow. No, you couldn’t be jealous, you don’t like him. You’re just friends, you’ve always been. But is thare something more than that?

Taking a deep breath, you decide it’s better for you to just go home and think about this another time. But as you exit the bathroom you hear a familiar voice calling your name.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Mark approaches slowly.

“Well it’s not like we’ve been keeping up to each other much.” You don’t know why you’re suddenly so bitter.

“I know.” He sighs. “And I miss it. I miss you. I miss us.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe is was the fact that you haven’t seen him in a while, or maybe your story is not so different from the rest, but when your lips suddenly crashed you didn’t pull apart until you were both naked in someone’s bed.

As hard as it was, that made things worst than before. After that party you actively avoided each other and it seemed like a good solution. You though you could just ignore and fate would decide what happened next but that’s not how things work. All the running around, you couldn’t fight it any longer. You two needed to talk.

It wasn’t ugly, it was just heartbreaking. Two people with so much history deciding to go their separate ways. In the end, your friendship is gone and there’s nothing left to do. You know this is for the best before you hurt each other, but you’re still not sure how you feel about it.

At the end of the semester he decide to transfer to another college supposedly to ‘pursue new opportunities’. Sometimes you wish you could turn him back into a stranger, cause if you were never in his life he wouldn’t have to change it.

The following years you focused on working on yourself and moving on. Eventually you met a nice guy and got to experience what it’s like to fall in love. Well, the conventional way. You also got a nice job and some co-workers that turned into close friends. One day you’re having lunch with one of them when you notice a familiar figure walk into the restaurant.

Mark noticed you right away and wasn’t shy to approach you with a big smile. You were quick to notice the ring on his hand and it made you happy to know he too moved on. Unfortunately, he was actually in a hurry so he didn’t have much time to talk, but he gave you his new number and a promise to catch up.

“Who was that hottie?” Your friend wiggled her eyebrows. “Friend or ex?”

“Well,” you watch him leave and look back at his number with a small smile, “something between a lover and a friend, it was different back then.”

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

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