#y'all know what i'm on about i know you do

[lazyjellyfish300]

Jelly...... Pookie... Love.

I have another fluff idea.

Miguel sneaking out of HQ to see his wife (that worked with him at Alchemax) and cuddle with her.

Jess and Peter B. notice that Miguel has been sneaking out and want to know where is he going so they investigate (optional: Miles, Pav, Gwen and Hobie join in) because Lyla doesn't say anything (she ain't a snitch) and just discover Miguel showering his wife with love-

"Te amo mi vida"

[I love you my life (endearment word)]

"Brillas más que las estrellas"

[You shine brighter than the stars]

*Sobs* 😭

Oh my God I'm so sorry this took me a sec. Hope it was worth the wait. 🫶🏽 Thanks Pookie 🖤 my final request from the 1 year anniversary and they're all done.😩 (Everyone cheered)

Let me tell you it's probably gonna be a sec before I open them again because I am not strong enough 😂 I'm working on Gentleman part 5 then I'll do the Woman He Didn't Choose. 🫶🏽 My hyperfixation with Miggy is experiencing an ebb, so I'm trying not to burn myself out and let the inspiration come naturally so I don't lose it entirely, I hope y'all understand. thank you for being patient.

PLEASE REBLOG, and if you can't, then at the very least please COMMENT! 🖤 Even if it's just emojis. Your meaningful interaction is what keeps more content coming. 🫶🏽

Running Away From the World With You🌠💘

Miguel O'Hara x Fem Wife!Reader

CW: a little suggestive, MINORS DNI, fluff, crack.

Word Count: 2.1k 🖤

@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer

-----

Miguel is missing. MIA. Gone. Seemingly without a trace. The man had his bouts of brooding and mystery, or seasons where he'd withdraw a little more than usual. He wasn't dubbed the Batman of Spider-People for no reason. But something about his absence this time was odd. 

One thing about Miguel is he'd sooner watch all of the High School Musical movies back to back on a loop than leave his ship without a rudder. His neglect to tell even his second in command and one of his most trusted people, Jess, was quite out of the ordinary. 

She was the first to notice from his blank screens and the coffee pot in the break room that was normally on batch #3 by the time 10 am rolled around. Instead, it sat untouched and coffee-less.

She went through a list in her head, dotting her I's  and crossing her t's but, she couldn't think of anything. Miguel going radio silent like this was simply unheard of, like Peter B. un-bigging his back. 

Speaking of...

----

"Peter?" Jess elbows the tall man next to her in the cafeteria who's going to town on the all you can eat french toast special.  

"MMm-yeah?" Peter B.  struggles with a mouth stuffed with a syrupy bite of French toast with bacon and scrambled eggs wrapped inside(a combination of his own devise) which he almost came close to wearing on the front of his pink fuzzy robe a few times. 

"Have you seen Miguel yet today?" 

Peter pauses, as though he had never been asked that question before in his entire life, bringing a finger to his chin and tapping in contemplation. 

"Y know, I haven't." He says after a moment. "Why do you ask?" 

"I haven't either. In fact, he hasn't seen or spoken to anyone all morning." 

Peter nods, halfway listening, most of his attention occupied by the syrupy goodness on his plate, obnoxious chewing noises coming out of him. 

"He didn't even have coffee this morning." 

Obnoxious chewing noises cease, and Peter B. looks at her, frozen mid-chew as the next bite he has on his fork falls back onto the plate with a wet plop. 

Oh, it's that serious. 

---

"Alright, where is she, little hologram I know you're listening...." Jess mutters, keying in a few passwords experimentally to Miguel's monitors, the authentication failing numerous times with several loud error beeps. 

Lyla regenerates next to Jess's ear, legs crossed. "Might I ask what you're doing?" 

"Lyla! Where's Miguel? I'm trying to get a location on him. Haven't heard from him at all this morning." 

Lyla isn't listening, turning her attention to her nails with a smirk, the boss's unknown whereabouts seeming to be of little urgency to her at the moment. 

Jess narrows her eyes. "Lyla?!" 

"Hmm, wha-?"

"I'm trying to save the multiverse, and the leader of the whole organization holding it together is in danger and you're acting remarkably nonchalant!" 

"Who said he was in danger?" Lyla hums boredly. 

Jess pauses. "So you do know where he is?" 

"I know that he's not in danger, not where he is." Lyla tries to sidestep the question

"Lyla?" 

"Oh would you look at that- ksssht, signal- kssht- getting weak -ksssht, Wi-Fi's going out again -kssssht -kssssht ksssht!!" Lyla feigns a glitching connection, despite remaining perfectly calibrated where she's floating. 

"Lyla....." Jess is not amused, but Lyla disintegrates entirely as though someone switched her off with a TV remote. 

Jess groans loudly, ripping Peter B. out of his mindless fixation with a random Funko Pop sitting on Miguel's desk. 

"Guess it's time to enact Project M&M." 

Peter B. raises his eyebrows. 

"Stop thinking with your stomach, Peter. Missing Miguel." 

"M&M mentioned!!" 

Miles Morales ricochets seemingly out of thin air from the ceiling, stopping abruptly, causing Pavitir who's bounding in behind him to smack into him like a domino, groaning as he holds his stomach with the wind temporarily knocked out of him. 

"You called?" Miles leans his elbow on Miguel's desk. 

"Hi Miles." Jess says with just a slight shred of irritation. No wonder Miguel's always pissed off, dealing with these spider folk and their little wisecracks all the time was enough to almost make her feel like she needed a drink (not literally since she's almost 8 months pregnant), but that was saying a lot.  

"I appreciate your eagerness, but I'm afraid M&M in this case is referring to Miguel being missing, not you." Jess clarifies. 

"Oh." Miles looks at the ground in defeat once again. 

"What are you guys talking about?" Gwen strolls in, followed by Hobie with his hands stuffed in his denim jacket pockets. 

"Sounded like a Might and Magic reference." Hobie remarks casually. 

"Y'all!" Jess rubs her temples. "There is no M&M's, Miles Morales, (sorry Miles),  or Magic the gathering or whatever obscure, ridiculous reference y'all think of next! We have an entire multiverse without a leader. I need your help to locate Miguel before M&M turns into massive migraine and I manhandle you misfits for making me lose my marbles! Capisce?!" 

A record scratches and everyone nods with a muttered, "Yes Jess," as they shuffle obediently in a line. 

"Yes Jess, sorry Jess." Pav apologizes in shame. 

Jess sighs deeply "It's okay Pav." (Pav was low-key Jess's favorite). 

"Alright y'all." Jess stands back as she activates her watch, opening a portal.

"Follow me."

-----

And so, the group of Spiders went off in search of their beloved, fearless leader. 

Jess and Peter B. teamed up, but ended up getting stuck in endless timeshare presentation hell after Peter fell for the marketing pitch when one of the salesmen apprehended them at the local shopping mall. 

 "Jess! This nice, well dressed  gentleman is telling me you can rent to own one of these little condominiums in St. Lucia for just a yearly maintenance fee of $275!!" 

"Those are scams, Peter..."

"You and hubby could use a little vacation before baby Drew arrives right?" 

"No, I'm good. Peter?....Peter?! Wait!" 

Before she ran off to join her gullible partner in crime who was already being reeled in with a complimentary bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos and a cold Diet Coke. 

-----

Meanwhile, Miles, Hobie, Pav, and Gwen wandered aimlessly around Nueva York, keeping their eyes and ears mostly peeled for traces of their grumpy boss. 

"If I was a Miguel, where would I hide?" Miles strokes his chin thoughtfully as though he had a long beard. 

Pav hatches an idea. "Oh, maybe he went to the movies!" He points at the movie theater across the street. 

"Good thinking, Pav!" Miles squints, assessing the movie posters. "Maybe he's at this show called, Magic Mike?" 

"Oh, um, that's not..." Gwen bares her teeth awkwardly as she hastily steers Miles back towards the original path they were on. 

"Wait, what's wrong with it? Isn't it like one of those shows where those magicians pull a rabbit out of a hat or they chop someone in half but it's all pretend?" 

"I'll tell you later." Gwen sighs. 

"Hmm, maybe he's at My Melody." Hobie nods in the direction of a Hello Kitty Sanrio store across the street. 

"Ooh! Can we please go inside? I need to buy Gayatri an anniversary present." Pav taps his fingers together excitedly. (Truth is he also wanted a Keroppi plushie for himself) 

"GUYS!" Gwen huffs. "I think the whole "M&M" reference was just a play on words and Jess didn't mean it literally. I doubt he's actually at a place that starts with M."

Hmmm. 

The group pauses, trying to put their heads together.

"Oh, maybe he's at this tall scientific looking building where that fancy sports car is parked." Pav points to a black sports car with a license plate that had "VMPIR3 NINJA SPDRMN" scrawled across it. 

"Alchemax? Of course!" Gwen straightens up, pulling her mask over her face as she webs in its direction, with the gang followed closely behind her. 

-----

On the roof of Alchemax tucked in a shaded corner is a hammock spun from red, futuristic style webs hanging from one end of a water tower to another.

In it, is Miguel with you, his precious wife, cradled against his chest in his old lab coat from his days when he worked there, O'Hara stitched in black lettering on the breast pocket. 

Truth is, Miguel needed a damn break. Typically he can power through his discomfort and exhaustion of the work week, but, after dealing with one Spider-Ham too many that morning, he said fuck it and went off to find you, the one person who could grant him solace in an anomaly and chaos-filled multiverse. 

He pauses, letting the tops of his fingers linger just behind your neck, before he trails them so slowly down your back, halting at the halfway point where he spins them in graceful figure eights, before they wander down to the curve of your ass, giving it a squeeze. 

"Miguel..." You chastise him with a breathless giggle, feeling the heat in your body rise hotter and hotter when he starts softly kissing your neck. "We're.... shit ... we're technically in public..." 

"Shh...." Miguel continues teasing you with his lips. "A man can't love on his wife after a stressful week?" 

"Of course....he can...mmhhnnn....but..." 

"But nothing..." Miguel nips at the skin on your neck, drawing out a lengthy sigh. "Te amo mi vida..." (I love you my life)

"Yo también te amo, mi amor, pero...(I love you too my love, but)....I gotta get back, I have a meeting in 10..." 

Your breathy pleas turn to uncontrollable giggles when Miguel holds your chin in his fingers, trying to kiss every square inch of your cheeks. 

"Cancel it. You have a new meeting with your husband. They'll understand." 

"Oh okay. Let me just tell Osborn that word for word. Can you imagine the look on his face?" 

Miguel smirks. "No." He leans back in, whispering in your ear as his thumb teases your bottom lip. "Rather not think of that old man anyway when I'm trying to love on my wife..." 

"Miguel..." 

"Mmmm...eres tan hermosa, mi alma. Brillas más que las estrellas..." (you're so beautiful my soul, you shine brighter than the stars) 

You whine, all but melting by now as he steadily wins you over with one lingering kiss to your pulse point at a time. 

"Flattery will get you everywhere..." You murmur as you nuzzle your face against his. 

Miguel pulls back a little, a smug look on his face as he gazes down at you underneath him.

"And you say I'm the workaholic..." He presses his forehead against yours with a feeble sigh.

"You met your match when you married me." You tease him, interlocking your fingers with his. Miguel brings your hand closer, looking at your wedding ring with fondness. 

"Indeed I did. My perfect match in every way." He softly kisses the sizeable diamond in the middle, before he brushes his knuckles against your cheek. 

"Can Mrs. O'Hara spare me 5 more minutes of her precious time?" 

You smile, pulling him closer. "Of course she can." 

----

From a short distance away, the makeshift squad of project M&M watches the sickeningly adorable scene that they so unfortunately stumbled upon between their boss and you, his wife. 

"Lovely, I'm gonna go vomit." Gwen turns around. 

"Quite enough for one day, innit? By the way, I was never here with you freaks." Hobie turns around with a bored expression, lamenting over his wasted morning all for an anticlimactic conclusion of his boss who apparently just wanted to play hooky, even though he loved to get on Hobie's case about putting in more hours. 

"They're so in love. And what was that line about the stars? So poetic, I feel like I'm interrupting something." Pav watches with his hands across his heart, tiptoeing away to catch up with Hobie. 

"Wait, he's married?!" Miles is just starting to piece together the information. 

"Let's go, Miles!" Gwen called after him. 

"So wait, you're telling me Miguel knows how to pull a woman?" 

"Miles! Come. On." 

"Nah nah! Because you're telling me he asked a woman out on a date. Said woman agreed to the date, and then she went out with him on another date? And then she married him?!" 

 

"Miles. Just drop it." 

----

The gang was off, leaving you and your husband alone to soak in your final five minutes of cuddle time as you promised, far off in another dimension of your own making, the fabric of your little universe comprised of the quiet love between you, and your faithful Spider-Man by your side. 

----

🖤

[imaginespazzi]

This Little Love of Ours

Three times Paige and Azzi didn't go on a date and the one time they did

(In which an alternate universe writer finally returns to writing things in the real universe)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 5.4K (sighs in *this was meant to be 2K* words)

TW: Light swearing, alludes to sexual content

A/N: Hi lovelies, I'm backkkk!! Gonna keep this short and sweet but this is basically me combining a bunch of prompts/requests into one. There's some creative liberty taken with logistics and as per usual, the editing exists but so do my typos. As always, let me know what you liked and what you didn't, as well as anything you'd like to see going foreward. Happy Juneteenth and I hope y'all have a lovely rest of your week <3

we were just kids (when we fell in love)

The streets of Minsk, Belarus are bursting with light and colour, the summer breeze enveloping the two girls walking riverside as they giggle over everything and nothing. They’re breaking curfew plus a hundred other rules right now and if one of their coaches ever found out, they’d be as good as dead. But there’s something about being out in the open with Azzi, being able to delicately brush palms and not worry about her jolting away in fear of being seen, that has Paige ready to be reckless. 

It’s been a year of learning Azzi, a year of discovering the little things that make her smile, a year of memorising the intricate stories that make her who she is. And Paige hides all these little details in a little treasure chest in the corner of her heart, bringing them out like little drops of lights when Azzi’s not by her side, and the darkness feels all-consuming. The thing is, Paige has never been attached to someone like this before, never felt like there was another half she needed to feel whole. She’d been an independent child, walls of steel barricading anyone from getting a glimpse into her vulnerability. For a long time, she’d been fine just living in the façade of being fine. But then she’d met Azzi. And all the walls had gone crashing down and it was okay not to be okay, because now while she held the weight of world, there was somebody there to hold her too. 

“Paigeeee,” Azzi squeals with delight, eyes fixated on a van across the road, “there’s an ice cream truck.”

Paige doesn’t get time to react before she’s being pulled along, the wind tornadoing around her body. And yet she feels warm and fuzzy inside, like there’s a blanket with Azzi’s name knitted into it, wrapped around her heart. 

“I’ll have the strawberry please,” Azzi smiles politely at the ice cream vendor, eyes sparkling with excitement, “P what are you getting?”

Paige grins, knowing her order is about to earn her a patented eye roll, “I’ll have the mint choc chip please.”

“You’re so weird,” the younger girl scrunches up her face and Paige suddenly has the urge to kiss her nose. 

They both know that they’re living inbetween blurred lines, on a trapeze balanced between friends and something more. It had been a whispered conversation of have you ever kissed a girl? do you wanna kiss a girl? do you wanna kiss me? that had led to a kiss Paige swears can never be topped, but they hadn’t spoken about it again. With them living in separate states, it had been easy to ignore that, that had ever even happened, both of them skilled players at the game of pretend. But it’s different now they’re back in each other’s orbit and every touch seems to linger on Paige’s skin long after Azzi’s hands have left her own. 

“You have no taste. It’s sooooo good,” Paige chides, making a show of licking her ice cream. When she looks at Azzi, she’s not expecting the way the shooting guard’s eyes have glazed over, fixated on Paige’s lips as she swallows nervously. An unfamiliar shiver tickles down Paige’s skin as they stand in silence, the air thick with a new tension. 

“It’s green,” Azzi says finally, voice coming out breathless, “that’s enough for me to know it tastes bad.”

“Don’t knock it til you taste it,” the blond holds out her cone as an invitation. 

When Azzi steps into Paige space, much closer than needed, she’s expecting Azzi to take the cone. She’s expecting that familiar jolt of electricity when their hands accidentally brush. Instead she feels herself being  mesmerised by Azzi’s face getting closer and closer til she can feel the younger girl’s breath fanning her face. She gulps, as Azzi presses her lips to the corner of Paige’s mouth, tongue darting out for the briefest of seconds before she’s pulling away. And despite the cool of the ice cream, every part of Paige feels like it’s burning. 

“I was wrong. Guess it tastes pretty good,” Azzi whispers, biting her lip. 

“You-I-what-” Paige splutters, struggling to form a coherent thought. 

Azzi giggles, clearly proud of herself  “Paige Bueckers speechless? Who thought I’d ever see the day?”

“You’re a fucking menace.”

“And proud of it.”

There’s the clichéd spring in Paige’s step as they continue to walk by the river. She shifts her ice cream cone to her left hand, letting the other one entangle with Azzi’s fingers. It’s nothing, the most mundane of things to hold her best friend’s hand, but it feels exhilarating, like it’s the start of something special. Determined, she tugs on Azzi’s hand to pull them to a stop. The Minsk waterfront dazzles behind them but Paige swears nothing’s glowing brighter than two of them in this moment. 

“Why are we stopping?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised quizzically. 

Paige smirks, a new surge of confidence taking birth in her stomach, “I wanted to try your ice cream too. You got a taste of mine, it’s only fair I get a taste of yours.” 

“Is that so?” Azzi hums, pressing herself against Paige, “too bad it seems like I’ve finished my cone then.”

“Yeah too fucking bad,” Paige agrees before crashing her lips against Azzi’s. 

***

Paige is exhausted at breakfast the next morning, barely registering the conversations that are buzzing around her. Her eyes are drooping from the lack of sleep and there’s a dull pounding in her head but she has no regrets. Last night had been everything. She can still feel every moment pulsating through her veins, her heart beating to the rhythm of Azzi Azzi Azzi. The younger girl hasn’t appeared for breakfast yet and Paige is itching to see her. They’ve been separated for barely a couple of hours, reluctantly heading to their own rooms after they’d gotten back, and Paige swears she’d missed the girl even in her sleep. 

“You got back late last night,” Cameron teases, sticking out a fork of fruit in Paige’s direction, “you two must have had a good time.”

“Yeah,” there’s a rare shyness in Paige’s tone, “yeah we had a great time.”

“Oooh are we talking about Paige and Azzi’s date last night?” Aliyah cuts in, a smirk playing on her lips. 

“It wasn’t a date,” Paige counters, suddenly feeling oddly defensive “it- it was nothing.”

Cam raises an eyebrow, “it seemed like a date.” 

“Well it wasn’t. It definitely was not a date.”

“You guys heard her,” Azzi's voice makes Paige freeze, something akin to guilt pooling in her stomach, “it definitely was not a date.”

Cam and Aaliyah raise their hands in surrender, turning back to whatever conversation they were engaged in before. Paige gulps as Azzi sits down in the empty spot next to her, body rigid. 

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Paige it’s fine. I get it.”

“You- you do?” Paige doesn't entirely know how Azzi can get it, not when Paige doesn’t even really get it herself. 

Azzi shrugs with fake nonchalance, “yeah, yeah I do and it’s okay. You’re right. It wasn’t a date.”

And it wasn’t. At least not by name. Paige knows that. Apparently Azzi knows it too. But everything about that feels wrong. Underneath the table, their hands intertwine subconsciously. Neither of them react. Neither of them pull away. It’s the start of something unspoken, something complicated, something beautiful and fragile and so, so volatile, something that’ll take them years to understand.

2. this all or nothing way of loving (got me sleeping without you)

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

Azzi fights the twitch in her hand that wants to reach out and grab her phone when that notification flashes on her screen. She musters up another fake smile at her date, hoping the girl in front of her hasn’t noticed the change in her demeanour. It’s ridiculous the way her body reacts to the most simple things when it comes to Paige. She hates it, hates the way it seems like she has no control over herself when it comes to the blonde. 

“Do you need to get that?” Anika asks, voice sweet as honey as she smiles at Azzi 

“No, no it’s just an insta notification. Nothing important. You were saying,” Azzi brushes it off, trying to keep her voice nonchalant. Anika seems satisfied with that as she returns back to telling Azzi about something her sister had done. Fidgeting in her seat, Azzi tries her hardest to keep her focus on the brunette, but her mind is whirring with curiosity about what Paige might have posted. 

The opportunity presents itself a couple of minutes laters, when Anika slides out of her seat to go to the bathroom. It’s a little embarrassing how quickly Azzi beelines for her phone, clicking on Paige’s story and immediately wishing she hadn’t. Anger and jealousy tighten their grip on her as she’s met with a picture of a caramel skinned, curly haired girl smiling at the camera, staring at Paige behind it, with that oh so familiar look of adoration. The text on the image reads in good company and Azzi feels bile rising up her throat. And she’s not allowed to feel this way, not when she and Paige had both agreed to turn their something into nothing but every day since that decision has felt a little bit like someone twisting a dagger into her heart, piercing further and further until she has no more blood left to bleed. 

She doesn’t notice Anika’s made her way back until she feels a warm hand on her shoulder, looking up to find concerned green eyes staring down at her, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” Azzi nods with a sense of calm she doesn’t feel, “you okay with me showing you off a bit?”

It’s a dangerous game she’s about to play, one of jealous retaliation that she knows will only make her feel better for a brief second before all the pain will flood back. But she reaches for her phone anyways, fighting the voices of logic and reason (that sound oddly similar to Colleen) in her head and instead giving into impulse. Anika beams at the camera, throwing up a peace sign, and Azzi’s heart stutters with guilt at how sincere her smile is. She snaps the picture, captioning it with  date night <3 and clicks post to close friends. Her heart beats erratically as she places her phone back on the table, trying to tune back into Anika’s conversation. It takes approximately three minutes for her phone to flash again.

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

This time Azzi doesn’t bother fighting the urge to look, a new adrenaline pumping through her veins. It’s a mirror selfie this time. The girl has her back pressed against Paige’s front as they pose in front of the bathroom mirror. Paige has one hand holding her phone while the other is sprawled against the other girl’s waist, where a silver belly button piercing shimmers against tan skin. There’s no text this time, just a red heart and that Paige-shaped hole in Azzi’s heart is starting to get larger and larger. 

“You wanna take a walk?” Azzi asks Anika, tearing her eyes away from the phone, “it’s nice outside.”

Anika smiles, rising from her seat and holding out a hand that Azzi gladly takes. It would be easier, Azzi thinks, if she could just fall in love with this girl. Someone less complicated, someone who had less power over her, someone who was here. But it’s a futile dream, her heart is spoken for and Azzi doesn’t think she’ll ever get it back. 

It's a beautiful winter night outside and there’s a pretty girl holding her hand. That’s all Azzi should be thinking about. Instead, her mind is stuck on the image from before and it’s that vision, welded behind her eyelids, that has her taking a picture of her and Anika’s intertwined hands. As she types out the caption, one that feels way too deep for a first date, Azzi can’t help but roll her eyes at herself. She can’t remember the last time she’d posted a story, let alone two in a row and now here she is, posting inauthentic story after story to win a losing game. 

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

This time there’s at least 10 minutes before Azzi’s phone flashes with that notification again. Next to Azzi, Anika lets out a sigh, starting to become less amiable to the idea of her date constantly checking her phone. Azzi shoots her an apologetic look before her expression quickly turns stone cold at seeing the new picture. It’s a haphazardly taken, slightly pixelated, photo of Paige smiling and the girl kissing her cheek. And if Azzi was in any mood to analyse just a little further she’d notice that Paige’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, isn’t quite as wide as her real one. But there’s green fog clouding her judgement as she seethes internally, Anika’s soft touch doing nothing to calm her down. Tapping on Paige’s profile, Azzi fingers hover over the three dots on the upper left, as her petty side begins to take over. 

And then she hits block. 

***

“How was your date?” Paige’s mocking voice rings throughout Azzi’s childhood bedroom at almost 2 in the morning. She shouldn’t have answered the facetime call, should’ve held out for longer than just three missed calls and twelve angry texts. But Azzi has long realised that she’s putty when it comes to Paige. 

“How’s your girlfriend,” Azzi bites back. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Right,” Azzi draws out the word with an eyeroll, “how’s your fuck buddy then?”

Paige closes her eyes, rubbing her temples. When she opens them, the angry hard-to-read Paige that she’s been dealing with for the last month is replaced by Azzi’s soft, sweet and vulnerable Paige. Being apart after having been together all through lockdown has been harder than either of them could have imagined. They’d just assumed it would be easy when Paige finally left for UConn, after all most of their relationship had been built while living in different states. But somewhere in between workouts at 6 am and movie nights with Azzi’s family, they’d gotten used to living in each other’s skin, forgetting just how difficult it was to be apart from each other.  

“I miss you,” Paige whispers, “all the time. I can’t wait til you’re here.”

I miss you too, so much that sometimes it’s the only thing I feel, Azzi thinks and really it’s what she should say, instead the bitterness wins out, “why? So I can see you and that girl being all coupley in person instead of just on instagram?”

“That’s not fair, Azzi. You said you wanted to be just friends for now. You said I should try with other people and now you wanna throw that back in my face?”

“It was mutual-”

“Bullshit,” Paige sneers, “don’t try and put that shit on me. You made the decision and I just went along with it.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have then,” Azzi says exasperatedly, blinking her eyes rapidly to keep tears threatening to fall at bay. They fall into silence, staring at each other through the screen with identical expressions of only you can hurt me, only you can heal me. Azzi wishes she could reach through her phone, pull Paige into her world and melt into the older girl.

“What do you want from me Az?” Paige asks softly. 

I just want you, Azzi thinks miserably. She wants to be beg Paige to end things with that other girl, wants Paige to tell her not go on anymore dates, want to go back to being something, but she can’t, not when she’s convinced herself that they need do this, go through a phase of being nothing, so that they can be everything someday. This whole idea had taken birth in her head out of the fear that this- the two of them not knowing anything but each other- would eventually lead to resentment, that they- that Paige- would wake up one day and realise there was so much more the world had to offer. So now Azzi’s playing the long game, trying to believe in the clichéd year old adage that you have to let the people you love go, and if they come back, they’re yours. And she hopes against hope that Paige will come back, because Azzi doesn't think she’ll survive anything else. 

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, instead of voice the other thoughts dancing on the tip of her tongue, “I’m sorry I’m being unfair.”

Paige’s eyes soften, “can we just- can we just talk about something else?”

And they do. They talk all night about everything and nothing, falling asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing. It’s that same nightly routine neither of them can fall asleep without. Because even if they’re both drowning in a sea of unspoken words, at least they’re sinking together, perhaps there’s some comfort in that. 

3. you make me smile (please stay for a while now)

Azzi stares at her reflection in the mirror for what feels like the thousandth time. She’s a bundle of nervous energy as she pats down her neatly ironed mini-skirt, adjusting her already perfectly-set crop top. It’s a little bit like how she feels before stepping on the court, dizzy with both nerves and excitement in anticipation. By all technicalities, this isn’t their first date. There’s probably friends and family who would argue this is closer to be their millionth or so date but nothing has ever been official. It just means more. 

She jumps a little when the doorbell rings at exactly 7 p.m. sharp, taking in a deep breath, before she opens the door. Paige stands outside in black pants with a black crop top and a multicolor cardigan, and a bouquet of pink roses in her hands. It takes Azzi about two seconds to realise that something’s wrong. Paige’s eyes are a feverish red and her smile is tired; it’s her all too familiar Paige is sick demeanour that Azzi’s quick to recognize after years of having seen it. The blonde opens her mouth to say something and instead all that comes out is a series of loud sneezes. 

“Oh baby,” Azzi gives her a sympathetic smile, reaching out to feel Paige’s forehead and then narrowing her head when she feels the heat, “P-”

“I’m fine,” Paige cuts her off, her voice gravelly, “just allergies.”

Azzi crosses her arms, knowing she’s about to deal with a petulant child, “I don’t think so. You’re clearly sick.”

“I don’t-,” Paige tries to disguise the cough in between her sentences, “-get sick.”

“Sure you don’t,” Azzi nods, as she tugs Paige inside, grabbing the flowers and setting them aside. Paige lets out grunts of protest, but her body is clearly too tired to fight back as Azzi guides them into her room. She goes into her closet first, finding an oversized shirt for Paige to change into. 

“You know the getting undressed part comes after the date right?” Paige raises an eyebrow, practically glaring at the t-shirt 

“We’re not going on a date.”

“WHAT? Dude I’m fine. I have a reservation and everything,” Paige whines in between coughs as she watches Azzi rummage through her drawers for medication, “it’s our first date. I had plans.”

“I’m not going on a date with you looking all snotty and congested like that.”

Azzi suppresses a laugh at Paige’s offended sequel, “what happened to sickness and health?”

“Pretty sure that’s a marriage thing,” she hands Paige the pills and a glass of water, that the older girl obediently takes.

“Well we’re eventually gonna get married so you need to get used to that,” it’s said so casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but it steals Azzi’s breath away, the words carving themselves into the walls of her heart. Sometimes she wonders if Paige understands the gravity of the things she says, understands how they make every part of Azzi come alive with hope for their future. She shies away from a smirking Paige, trying to hide the blush that’s creeping up her neck. 

“Just- just get changed,” she manages to stutter out. 

“I,” sneeze, “don’t,” cough, “want” sneeze, “to.”

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

“You have to get better P or coach will kill us both if you end up missing practice.”

“Going on a date with you would make me feel better.”

“Okay,” Azzi sighs, realising she needs to change tactics, “we’ll make a compromise. You’re gonna change-” she raises a hand when Paige tries to interrupt, “you’re gonna change and lie down, and if you don’t fall asleep in the next 10 minutes, we’ll go on the date.”

Paige’s eyebrows furrow in concentration as she mulls it over, before a scheming glint appears in her eyes, “okay but on one condition,” her grabby hands reach for Azzi’s waist, a soft smile playing on her chapped lips, “you have to lie down with me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes fondly, letting the blonde pull her into her arms, her own hands encircling Paige’s back as the older girl snuggles into her neck with a content sigh. This is her happy place. In any room, anywhere, as long as she’s cocooned in Paige’s embrace, there’s a sense of serenity that seems to flood into Azzi’s veins. 

“I could fall asleep here,” Paige murmurs, hot breath fanning against Azzi’s collarbone, “you’re so comfortable.”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to physically manoeuvre Paige onto the bed which only elicits a smirk against her skin. 

“If you wanted me in your bed Az, you could have just asked,” the older girl wiggles her eyebrows, earning her a small push from Azzi as Paige drags them both down into a mess of limbs and pillows. Cerulean blue eyes stare up at Azzi, a little bloodshot from the impending fever, but still blisteringly brilliant with love. It scares Azzi sometimes, to see all that emotion swimming in Paige’s eyes, all for her and it scares her even more to know that same pool of you’re it for me is reflected in her own too. Sometimes she worries they’re too young for this, too young to feel so much but then Paige smiles, and all of Azzi’s doubt flies away as she lets herself believe in forever. 

***

Paige doesn’t even really make it past five minutes, her sick body giving into the tiredness as she cuddles into Azzi, arms splayed over the younger girl's torso, as she keeps her head buried in her shoulder. There’s a content smile on her face as Azzi continues to run her hands through silky blond hair, brushing out tiny knots and waiting a couple of minutes, before she detaches herself from her girlfriend and heads to the kitchen. She’s not the greatest of chefs, but she’d like to think she’s skilled enough to try and make something that at least resembles chicken noodle soup. 

Azzi’s almost done when she feels a blanket being wrapped around her, two arms coming to wrap around her waist as she feels the weight of Paige’s chest pressed against her back, the older girl's head coming to rest in the crook of Azzi’s neck. 

“You’re already awake,” Azzi whispers, leaning her head back so she can brush her lips against Paige’s temple. 

Paige grunts, her voice nasally when she speaks, “you left and I was cold.”

“I have like three blankets on my bed you could’ve used.”

“Don’t wanna use blankets. Wanna use you,” Paige whispers, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s neck, making the younger girl shiver, “you’re much warmer.”

“Go pick out a movie to watch, I’m almost done with this.”

She can’t see it but Azzi can practically feel Paige’s raised eyebrows, as she dramatically sniffs the air, “you cooked? Babe I’m already sick, are you trying to get me sicker?”

“Wow. I slave over the kitchen for you for hours-”

“Maybe half-”

“HOURS! And you have the audacity to question my cooking when all you can make is buffalo chicken dip?”

“Hey, you love my buffalo chicken dip.”

“You keep telling yourself that baby.”

“It’s not nice to be  mean to your sick girlfriend,” Paige snickers as she makes her way to the couch in  Azzi’s room. 

“So you admit you’re sick then?” 

“Only sick to my stomach at whatever you’re gonna feed me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, pouring the soup into a bowl. She secretly loves when they get like this. It’s a reminder that no matter what other label they eventually put on their relationship, Paige will always be her best friend first. As soon as Azzi sits down on the couch, Paige is all over her, knowing exactly how to shrink her body so that all 6’0 of her fits perfectly on her girlfriend’s lap. This is Azzi’s favourite version of Paige really, the soft vulnerable babygirl that’s only for Azzi’s eyes, a far cry from the ultimate rizzler the rest of the world sees.

“Feed me,” Paige pouts and Azzi shakes her head fondly but does as she’s asked, holding a spoonful of chicken noodle soup in front of Paige’s mouth.

“Thought you were scared of my cooking?”

“Oh I am but the things we do for love,” the blonde says dramatically before letting Azzi feed her, “huh, that’s not half bad baby.”

“High compliments,” Azzi says mock-seriously, as she tries her own spoonful, “oh I kinda ate that.”

They both dissolve into giggles at that, falling into a comfortable conversation as Azzi takes turns feeding both herself and Paige, the dull rumbling of some random movie behind them. 

“You’re always taking care of me,” Paige says softly after a while, hand caressing Azzi’s left arm as she lies against her chest, feeling her heartbeat underneath her fingertips. 

“Someone has to,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s hair, “you take care of everyone else and I take care of you.”

“Sorry I ruined our date but trust, I’mma make it up to you,” Paige mumbles sleepily, digging herself further into Azzi’s arms if that’s even possible. 

“I’m sure you will baby.”

“I love you.”

“Love you more P.”

And if in two days, Azzi’s the one that’s sick and Paige’s attempt at making chicken noodle soup goes even worse, well, let’s just say it’s a good thing they have NIL deals and can afford a chef in the future.

4. me i fall in love with you every single day (and i just wanna tell you i am)

“Where are you taking me?” Azzi giggles, hands outstretched as she tries to navigate the path in front of her, despite being blindfolded. The salty sea air brushes through her hair, as she places one foot in front of another, letting Paige’s hands on her waist guide her across the cruise ship. 

“Be patient, we’re almost there,” Paige whispers against her ear, nervous anticipation building in her stomach. She’s been planning this night from the moment they’d booked the cruise tickets, wanting everything to be as near to perfect as possible. The thing is, they’ve been on plenty of dates, some even before they’d officially started calling them dates. But most of those dates have had to be carefully constructed away from prying eyes, their hands itching to hold the others but forced to dangle by their sides so they could keep up a façade in public, that this was just friends hanging out. The cruise is the perfect spot for a private date, one where Paige wouldn’t have to keep her hands to herself, not that she’s done a good job of that the whole trip anyway. But she’s found the perfect secret spot and spent just a little bit of money, to make sure the other cruise goers wouldn’t bother them tonight. 

“Are we there yet?” Azzi whines and Paige can’t help but laugh, finally pulling them to a stop.

“So impatient,” she tuts as she finally pulls away Azzi’s satin pink blindfold. 

“Yes well I’m star-oh…” Azzi blinks, eyes adjusting to the light as they flitter over her surroundings, the words being stolen from her lips as an awed look takes over her features, “Paige.”

“You like?” Paige bites her lips nervously.

“Do I like? Baby, this is beautiful,” tears sparkle in Azzi’s eyes as she loops her arms around Paige’s neck, “it’s perfect.”

They’re standing on the bow of the cruise ship. In the distance, the island they’re docked at, is illuminated by lights, making it shimmer against the dark night sky. A table for two sits at the helm of the ship, adorned in a purple velvet table cloth. There are candles and pink and white rose petals scattered all across the floor, with a small path carved out in between so they can walk to the table. On the table, there’s a customised crystal centrepiece with their names carved into it and inside it is a bouquet made of pictures of them. It’s a little cliché really, especially for two people whose path to each other had been anything but traditional but all Paige has ever wished for is a moment of normalcy with Azzi, a moment where they’re not star players, just two girls in love, enjoying a typical date night, a moment where they’re just PaigeAndAzzi. 

“When did you even have time to plan all of this?” Azzi marvels out loud, as Paige pulls out a chair for her. 

“I have my ways,” the blonde says with a smirk, taking a seat opposite her girlfriend and reaching to entwine their hands together. 

“You didn’t have to do this P.”

Paige shrugs, “I wanted to. We deserve this.”

Azzi nods, squeezing Paige’s hand because god knows they do deserve this. It’s been a hellish year if they’re honest. The highs had been wonderful but the lows, god the lows had felt like the ground being pulled from beneath their feet as they gripped each other, holding onto the only thing in their lives that felt like a reprieve from the darkness that swirled around them. And really that’s it Paige thinks, life can throw whatever it wants at her, but as long as she has Azzi, she’ll learn to survive it. 

“You wanna dance?” Paige asks, when they’ve finally finished eating, somehow managing to find a way to hold hands throughout the whole three course meal. As if on cue, a violin quartet appears onto the deck, and Azzi laughs at the coincidence. It’s Paige’s favourite sound in the whole wide world. 

“You’re such a sap,” Azzi teases fondly as she lets Paige lead them onto the floor, “how many romcoms did you watch to come up with this whole thing?”

“Dude, are you doubting my abilities to come up with a perfect date?”

“I would never,” Azzi swears, leaning her cheek against Paige’s, “but seriously Bueckers, you’ve outdone yourself.”

The melody of “thinking out loud” on the violin with the light thrum of the sounds of the wind and the ocean, creates the perfect orchestra for them to sway to, as they press every inch of themselves into each other, trying to lose themselves in the other’s arm. That feeling of home, a resounding peace, echoes throughout Paige’s skull and she thinks if there was ever a memory she’d want to replay over and over again, it would be this one. 

“I’m gonna miss this,” Paige whispers, “being with you like this?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“No I know- I just- I like being able to be us in public like we have this last week. I like not pretending.”

“What if-,” Azzi pulls back a little, eyes locking with Paige’s, “what if we didn’t pretend?”

Paige searches for a shred of hesitance in Azzi’s face, but finds nothing but complete resoluteness and a grin breaks out on her own face, “what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that even if we don’t say anything, maybe we don’t have to try and hide everything all the time either. I’m saying,” Azzi bites her lips, shyly smiling, “if you wanna hold my hand when we’re in public sometimes, you- you can if- if you want to.”

“I really, really, really want to,” Paige breathes against the brunette’s lips, hands rubbing circles against her waist. 

“Good,” Azzi whispers back, “because I really, really, really want you to.”

[ssahotchnerr]

okay but also i could see ellie having a day with aunt penelope and coming back with her ears pierced.

STOP YES that's so cute 😭 obviously you gave penelope your blessing to go ahead and do so, butttt you didn't tell aaron 🫢

and being with her aunt penelope: always gives ellie a lil confidence boost🥹 like she was a lot more brave with her versus if you and aaron had tagged along. you would've coddled her more, she's always more sensitive with mommy and daddy - that type of thing.

ellie going up to aaron and being like :D daddy do you notice anything different??!? 😭 just smiling from ear to ear

at first aaron's all 🤨 trying to figure out what's new. and when he does notice, his eyes go wide and he's all: you got your ears pierced!!!!??? hehe he tells ellie he loves them and how beautiful she looks 🥰 asks her when did this happen, if it hurt, and ever so gentlyyy touches her earlobes to look at them a little more thoroughly. and he makes sure she understands it's important to take care of them (the two of you will help of course, i wanna say she's like 5? when this occurs)

he is a littleeee taken aback, and turns to you all, did you okay this? 🤨 (i feel like he would have the same reaction as to when jj revealed she was pregnant, the you could have told me 🥺🥺) and his reaction ties in with something else; it tugs greatly at his heartstrings because his baby girl is growing up 🥺 she looks so grown up 😭

BUT AHH auntie penny spoiled ellie sooo much and got her SO many cute earrings to wear once her ears heal 🥹 she has the standard studs and classic pairs. and you know how claire's has so many fun ones - food, animals, flowers, those spikey squishy balls (i hope y'all know what i'm talking about😭) etc., ellie has quite the variety and is counting down the days until she can switch them out 🥰

[therantsofawriterrr]

buckys first time since the 40s? smut with reader, he cums embarrassingly fast and reader has to console him and she tells him she thought it was hot….

Ok so my first smut req. Thanks anon. Y'all know the drill, 18+ only, MDNI pls. Smut and warnings under the cut. If you don't like this stuff, just don't read it, thanks.

Warnings: Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it, ya filthy animals), creampie, mentions of fingering, dirty talk and dumbification if you squint, tell me in the comments if i missed anything

A/N: First time writing smut, sorry for any tense mistakes. I get confused with those. Also, this ain't proofread, so pardon any mistakes.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Ok so, in my mind, Bucky's kinda composed about it at first. Y'all have been dating for a long time and you both are finally ready to go to the next base.

But as soon as he sees you in your underwear, your breaths getting deeper and heavier as you see him in his, he feels himself get so hard so fast, his mind finally picking up the fact that he hadn't gotten laid since the 40s.

His body already had the memo, begging for a release, making him want to just sink into you and let himself loose.

Even as he got you naked, laying down on top of you, holding himself up, he tries to keep himself in line. Even as he sinks his fingers into you, whispering praises into your ear, he feels his cock strain against the fabric of his boxers. His voice is breathy and needy, not that you noticed, your mind flooded with pleasure.

"So pretty for me, baby."

"Just like that, doll, be loud, no need to hide those noises, yeah? It's just us."

"Good God, you're heavenly. So tight and so wet. It's all for me, isn't it?"

And when he finally sinks into you, he still keeps himself composed. Inch by inch, he works through it, as his mind goes blank every time he gets deeper. When he's finally in, though, he couldn't help but rut into you. He didn't start thrusting just yet, waiting for your permission.

You'd moan and whine for him to move properly, to fuck you properly and he would. He'd be long gone as he'd pound into you, groaning into your neck and marking the pretty skin. He'd lavish your nipples with attention as he'd try to hold back, to not flood your insides with his cum.

But finally, he was a man who hadn't had a proper release for more than a hundred years. In a few thrusts, he ended up, arching his back, groaning as he came, as spurts after spurts of cum filled you up.

He'd keep his face buried in your neck as you both panted. Too embarrassed to even look at you. He couldn't even wait for you to finish.

"Bucky," you'd whisper, kissing the side of his forehead. "Baby, it's alright."

"I'm sorry, doll," he' say, his voice muffled. "I couldn't hold back. I should've but-'

"No, hey, listen to me," you'd say, urging him to look at you. "It's fine. I understand. And to be honest..."

His eyes would light up with curiosity as he'd see you blush, his hand brushing away the few strands of hair sticking to your cheek. "What, baby? Tell me."

"It was kinda hot," you'd murmur, your hand fiddling with the dog tags hanging around his neck. "Like, really hot."

Immediately, a smug grin would appear, his prior embarrassment and guilt being washed away. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," You'd whisper. "It's hot knowing that I did that to you."

"Hmm, baby," he'd say, bringing his mouth to your ear, starting to thrust into you again. "You have no idea what you do to me."

And he'd stare at your face as it twisted in pleasure, this time hell-bent on making you clench around him like a vice before he gives you another load.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[carmenized-onions]

Just Dropped. | Missing Invoice

logline; It's still fucking Friday. Half past five, maybe?

[!!!] series history, this is the eleventh; We're jumping RIGHT back in babe, feel free to re-review chapter ten to remember everything lmao.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to.

portion; 8.2k Thank fucking god this got split off from the last.

possible allergies; hurt,,,,, some comfort? You'll see, idk. No spoils. Terrible self-image, a lot of talk of Mikey's death and blame about it. Just a lot of mean and hurtful words to oneself and others.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (i don't believe there's any pronouns but feminine titles are used? you'll see) Also, if I'm being honest, this chapter is not about Carmen, lmao. but when are they, really?

you ever notice that the other shoe chapter doesn't have a period? lol pranked you!! genuinely both very interested and very nervous to hear y'alls thoughts on this one,,, i hope you like it,,,, if you don't,,,, let me down so gently, sweetpea

Same team. You say to Marcus.

It’s an idiom you coined, long ago. It’s a simple phrase you and your friends started to exchange whenever heads got hot, and you had to remind each other that at the end of the day, you’re fighting for the same thing. To get through the end of the day, together. You’re on the same team.

It’s not interchangeable with ‘we good?’ It means so much more than that. Fights happen, they do. You know that better than anyone, but it’s important to remind each other what you’re fighting for. Same team, you say to Marcus, after reciting all the pastas on order.

He says it back, calming down. Talking to Richie was just as important as running expo; same team. He gets it. You exchange reassuring nods.

Two doors swing open. First, Sweeps comes in through front of house, pressing a note to your back, you hold it there. You don’t think it’s a good sign when he mumbles, slipping past your shoulder. “Need a smoke break, one sec.”

Second, Carmen swings out of his office. Phone call over, he seems deeply bothered. Is Natalie okay? Is he okay? You imagine he wouldn’t just return to his station, right in front of expo, if everything wasn’t okay. He does seem… On the verge of something, though. Despite your concerns, you continue to bark out orders. You try to run it a little more… prim, this time, with Carmen back. A couple fewer ‘love yous’ peppered in between table numbers. You don’t want to make him snap by running the place not like his Exec would.

Richie rolls back his shoulders, stretching out his neck. He tries to find sympathy and kinmanship, in Carmen, “Cousin, your ol’ boss is such an asshole, you wouldn’t believe what he—”

“Respect him, Chef.”

Huh? That gives both you and Richie pause. You stutter on the order. “Twen—Twenty-six, table twenty-six, waiting on fish, Chefs.”

“Fish.” Carmen hands the plate off to expo, immediately. Cold. He hasn’t even commented on you running expo yet. Is he mad? You’re probably doing a shit job at this. You hand the serving tray off to Fak to run. He speeds out, like a reverse lassie, sensing danger and wanting to get the fuck out immediately.

“…Respect him?” Richie repeats, dumbfounded.

“He’s a Two-Star Executive Chef.” Carmen doesn’t take his eyes off his cutting board. You’re not sure what he’s making, right now— Oh shit, you should tell him about the cherry and lamb before he wastes his time.

“Don’t matter what his title is—” “Yes. It does.”

Richie’s brows raise then furrow, as do yours, just not nearly as dramatic. Neither of you were expecting a fight over this, you’ve both been serving this man first hand. Carmen worked for this guy for like two or three years, he knows. He has nightmares about this guy. You were expecting comradery. The guy is a dick, why won’t Carmen admit that? Why’s he suddenly got stock in his captor?

“Who shit in your cereal? He’s bein’ a fuckin’ creep, Cousin.” That touches your heart, a little bit. Richie’s not directly saying it’s affecting you, but it’s nice to know that he just as equally cares about your discomfort.

Carmen’s a different story, though. Because he doesn’t question why Richie would say this. Doesn’t bother to consider the idea that he’s not fully informed, on the situation. On any situation, for that matter. He just thinks he’s being attacked, for some reason.

“N’ what the fuck are you?”

That snaps you off of your focus— Quite frankly, it snaps half of the kitchen out of their focus. Everyone’s knives pause above their cutting boards, spoons half dipped into pots, it hangs in the air, for a second.

“Pardon me?” Richie puts a hand over his chest, taking a half step back, to physically display how much offense he’s taken. Fucking hell, it’s gonna be this now. “What the fuck am I?”

“D’you want me to tell you? Cause I’ll fuckin’ tell you.”

You’ve gotta get between this, before Carmen can tell him. You slip Sweeps’ note in your pocket, long forgetting it, at this point. When you step forward, Richie puts an arm in front of you, barring you from getting in the middle of this. “Rich—”

“Please.” Richie goads, ignoring you. “En-fucking-lighten me.” You immediately brace yourself for whatever impact you and the rest of this kitchen are going to be collateral for.

“You’re a fuckin’ deadbeat, Rich.” Carmen puts his knife down, turning from his station to face Rice. Where the fuck is all this coming from? What kind of phone call was this? When you open your mouth to interrupt, Richie puts his other hand up in front of your face, shushing you. He wants to hear what Carmen has to say. You desperately do not want to hear what Carmen has to say.

“You wouldn’t have shit without me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have shit?”

“You wouldn’t be able to pay for your fuckin’ life—” “Oh here we go—” “Or your fuckin’ kid—” “Oh, oh you wanna talk to me about my fuckin’ kid?” “You wouldn’t have shit—” “At least I have a fuckin’ kid.” “Fuck you!”

“Fuck you, you don’t have shit, Carmen, you don’t let good shit ever fuckin’ happen to you. So fuckin’ tough, never let anyone talk to you.”

It is impossible to get a word in, inch wise. They are so in each other’s faces, Carmen’s a bit shorter than Richie, and that somehow does not make him any less intimidating. This has been brewing long before you showed up, that much is very fucking clear. What caused the snap to happen now is beyond you.

You cannot find a moment to interrupt, to attempt to mediate. No one can. The kitchen is divided, some continue cooking to avoid the situation, some have stopped to watch, wondering to themselves who’s going to intervene, and some are like you, waiting for the right moment to step in. There will never be a right moment to step in.

“Where were you, when I fuckin’ put your brother in the ground, you selfish piece of shit?”

Oh. Stray bullet, for you. You wince— Not that you weren’t already, but that was definitely a personal hit. Richie’s still harbouring resentment over that for Carmen, which means he still holds it somewhere for you, too. And at least Carmen came back after, to take care of The Beef. Where the fuck were you for the better half of a year? Vanished. You completely vanished, on him.

“You’re so fucking obsessed with my family— Such—You’re such a fucking leech.”

You catch it from Carmen, too. Does Carmen see you as a leech? A parasite, tethering to his family? To his work? Is that why he’s mad, right now? You’ve inserted yourself without asking— You’re so pushy— No, no, he likes that your pushy, you’re good. He doesn’t think that about you, he doesn’t actually think Richie is a leech either, he’s just saying shit to start shit. It’s working. He’s really stirring up shit.

“Oh, I’m fucking obsessed—” “You fucking leech—” “I’m so fucking obsessed with you.” “I should’ve cut you out!” “Yeah.” “I should’ve fuckin’ cut you out!”

“I fuckin’ love you!” Richie points in Carmen’s face, and Carmen somehow manages to not give a shit. It does nothing, for Richie to have said this, and that is shattering. Sydney reaches for your hand, you don’t look at her, you only know it’s her because of the band-aids. You take it.

“You fucking need me!”

“I fucking love you!”

“You’re fucking nothing!”

“Don’t fucking say that!” That’s when you jump in. Practically call and response, for you. Your body processes what Carmen even said before your brain does. That was the straw. Carmen picked the wrong fucking one, to say that in front of. Carmen drew the line a lot of times, Carmen drew the line when he said to respect that Asshole— Quite frankly, Carmen drew the line with the broken sauce ‘you want a star’ bullshit with Syd— But this was the back breaker, for you.

You let go of Syd’s hand, moving to be in between the men, back facing Richie, defending him, “Don’t fuckin’ say that shit to Richie— To anyone, ‘specially not Richie.”

“Oh, like he’s some fuckin’ prize?” Your eyes go wide, like dinner plates. Carmen continues, “You wanna fix him, too? Add him to the list?”

“Fix him?” Is that what he thinks of you? That you think people need ‘fixing’? “I’m not trying to fix anyone, Carmen.”

“Didn’t try to fix Mikey?”

You straighten up a bit, whole brain dialing up. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

You adore Carmen, but in this moment, you cannot help but think of all the utterly life ruining comebacks you could say to set him on his ass, right now. Bite your tongue, same team. “Oh, I’m excused?”

“You don’t fuckin’ work here.” Ouch.

“Oh, suddenly that’s a problem—”

“Think you’re the fuckin’ peoples’ princess—” Ouch.

“That is not what I’m doing—”

“No no, of course it’s not, you’re such a goddamn saviour, modern day Christ.” Ouch.

“Carmen—” Richie tries to step in front of you, you put the back of your hand on his chest, holding him back. Time for you to prove what you said, in your kitchen, just a few days ago. Time to prove to Carmen, and quite frankly, yourself, that you can take this. That you can take his teeth. Carmen gave you fair warning, that the shoe could drop, that he might do this. Your first fight. It came a lot faster than you expected, but fair warning’s a fair warning.

“Say what you wanna say, Carmen.”

“Where’s your fucking invoice?” Carmen’s never swore at you, you’re pretty sure. It feels weird, in your chest. Cornering. You frown. “You didn’t fuckin’ give it to Nat, don’t lie.”

“It’s complicated.” It’s a legitimate answer, to you. It is complicated. “We can talk about it, after—”

“I don’t need to be some fuckin’ charity tax write-off, alright?” Carmen interrupts, he doesn’t care to hear your explanation. He’s already decided your intentions, and that feels very unfair, doesn’t feel like you’re on the same team. “Just fucking charge me. You wanna work here? Fucking charge me.”

Is he trying to make your entire dynamic transactional? Why is he acting like this? What did you do wrong? Don’t tear up. You can take it. You can take the teeth, Tony, come on. “That’s not—”

“I don’t need fuckin’ fixing, alright, I’m not another fucking addict—”

You can feel bristle Richie behind you. You both handled that ‘fucking addict’ first hand, and you certainly don’t care for him to be referred to as such. You interrupt Carmen’s tirade, “Don’t say that shit—”

Carmen rolls back his head, like he’s tired of some sort of façade— Like you’re being fake. “Oh, my fucking God—”

“What! What the fuck—” “He’s fucking dead, you can say it— He was a fucking loser junkie—”

He doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t mean it. He’s just trying to start shit. Same team. He’s just hurt over something he hasn’t admitted yet. Same team.

“Carmen—” You can’t get a word out, with this guy. God, you wish this was at least behind closed doors. Wish he’d give you and Richie the grace of breaking you both down without an audience.

“And, and—” There’s a split second of manic laughter to it, he’s so incensed by the idea. “You, you fucking gave that junkie money?”

You’re quick to furrow your brows, emphatically shaking your head. Did you give him discounts on services and pay his diner tab on occasion? Sure. But that’s an entirely different thing. “I never gave Mikey a cent—”

“Oh?” Carmen shrugs, “So you don’t have a joint bank account?”

Oh.

Oh. Is that what this is fucking about? He found some paperwork or a debit card lying around and lost his shit? Carmen and Mikey are very different people, and you love that, but one of your least favourite differences is Mikey never circled the drain, when it came to what he didn’t like. Carmen’s spent forever, needling Richie, and then needling you over some fucking joint bank account? That still doesn’t feel like it, though. There’s gotta be something he’s not saying.

To be fair, you know how the man spirals, you were hoping to explain these weird leftovers from your history yourself. This is what the painting was for. You were supposed to start on the first page— God, at the very least, a softer page, one that makes it all make sense, for him.

“Carmen, I get why you may be confused, but I—”

“Don’t tell me I’m fucking confused. I’m not fucking confused— I— This is my fucking kitchen, alright?” Entirely nonsensical. Too many thoughts are stirring in his head.

It’s hard to keep your eyes from watering. Take the teeth, same team. It was easier to compartmentalize with Mikey, when he yelled at you, because his eyes were blown out, and you could tell that it wasn’t him talking to you. But this is a sober Carmen. This is what he deep down, somewhere, thinks of you, isn’t it? He doesn’t think you belong in his kitchen. Don’t belong here.

“That— That fuckin’ asshole out front, or whatever you fuckin’ call him?” He points to booth twelve, through the window. You are now reminded that there is a window, and that there are more people than just the kitchen, here, there’s patrons. If they craned their necks and listened close, the sound proofing would keep them from hearing Carmen, but you feel like they could probably hear the way your heart is struggling to keep pace.

“That’s me— That’s who the fuck I am. And I’m good like that, so—So if he’s a fuckin’ creep so am I. N’ I don’t need you comin’ in my fuckin’ kitchen, comin’ in my fuckin’ life, actin’ like you know better than me!”

“I never said I know better than you!”

“You didn’t need to!”

“I—” You swallow your spit. You have always tried to keep a level field, with Carmen. Since day one. “I never meant—”

“I don’t— I am not your fuckin’ charity case, you do not need to-to donate to me to make up for the fact that you failed Mikey!”

Yeah.

You can’t take these teeth.

Carmen Anthony Berzatto realizes a couple of things, seven things, in quick succession, after he says this.

Thing One. His middle name is Anthony. Tony. That’s kind of funny. He should tell you that, make you laugh. He never really thought about it, until now. Didn’t have one of those moments where his brain disconnects from his body as a method of escaping the poison in his mouth, so it can have plausible deniability, until right now.

Thing Two. You are not Mikey. He had gotten so caught up, over the past week, conflating the fact that you’re both so likable and so ‘The Guy’ with the idea that you’re just the same. You’re not. You don’t react to being pushed and screamed at, like Mikey did, you don’t scream back. You defend yourself, but you don’t bite back at him, the way he bit at you. You don’t fight. You don’t get mean. You are not Mikey. Carmen always took Mikey trying to help as him trying to one up him; a silent way of saying he was better. You are not Mikey. You helping around the kitchen tonight, helping him every fucking day, was never you trying to one up him— Let alone fix him.

Thing Three. Your cherry and lamb plate is nowhere to be seen. It’s only been like three, five minutes? Where’d it go? He can’t even find a plate of bones. You’re never going to speak to him again, after this, he knows that. He’s never going to hear straight from you what you thought, he needs to see if you cleaned the plate.

Thing Four. He didn’t even ask. He didn’t even mention the photos, the thing that he was actually hung up about. Carmen’s confrontational, but not in the way that matters. He yells, but it’s never the thing he actually wants to yell about. Those candles could’ve been for anything. How old was Eva, when you met Mikey? Carmen doesn’t know, he wasn’t here. Could’ve just been birthdays. There’s a million reasons to have those photos, there’s a million reasons to have a joint bank account. He should’ve asked. He should’ve listened when you were trying to explain. You were trying to explain. You had something to say. You even acknowledged how confused he must be. How confused must you be, right now? He didn’t explain why he was yelling, at all. He didn’t ask, and he didn’t listen.

Thing Five. Carmen wasn’t here. You were. You were here. He blames himself, for his brother’s suicide, and he wasn’t even here. And then there’s you. You were here, and you probably took Mikey on your shoulders the way you take everything on your shoulders. And he just said you failed. He never asked you, if you blamed yourself, but he doesn’t need to. Everyone blames themselves. God, why did he call Richie nothing? Richie was here, too. He’s not a fucking leech, he was here. And that’s a fuck of a lot more than Carmen did. It’s not just about when Richie put his brother in the ground, it was the years before, proceeding, that Carmen wasn’t here for, and both of you were. And he just fucking said that you failed. He said it was your fault.

Thing Six. Carmen glances over your trembling shoulders, out the window, to where he can just see the edge of his old Exec’s head. Who he’s just said he is. Ugh. He thinks back to when that man became Exec, and Carmen took over as head. He remembers the promise he made to himself, when he went back to his shitty New York studio apartment and cracked open an incredibly expensive bottle of champagne (gifted) to drink alone on his mattress with no bedframe. He promised himself that no matter how bad it got in the kitchen, no matter how bad it got in his head, he would never get in someone’s ear and tell them that they were no good, terrible, slow, useless, better off dead, dumb fuck. He promised himself, that he would never make someone cry in his kitchen.

Point Seven. He’s resented the fact for the past week, that he hasn’t gotten to be the first person to do a lot of things, with you. He’s resented how much he missed out on, how much he wishes it was him in the photos, in the memories. But now you get to be one of his firsts. You get to be the first person he’s ever made cry, in his kitchen. When his brain comes back to his body, and he repeats back to himself the exchange that just happened. Yeah, he’d cry, too.

You have wonderfully bright eyes. He didn’t tell you that, before. He should’ve. He gets compliments on his bright blue eyes a lot, but yours just have this glow from within, about them. A brightness that he doesn’t, a sweetness that his don’t. That’s gone now. Eyes go from wide to hurt to vacant. Gone. Devoid. Hand over your mouth to cover the wobbling of your bottom lip. You look like he did, two years ago, at the French Laundry. A shell of what he was. A shell of what you are.

Carmen was right, he is the man out front. That’s who he is. That’s what he is.

A husk, biting down on the hand that feeds; defending nothing from no threat.

Richie didn’t need to call you, to let you know that Carmen’s awful for you, that he’s an asshole to everyone around him, that he’s sharp and not worth your time. Richie didn’t need to call you, to tell you that he’s just some fucking creep Executive Chef, but this time, he doesn’t even have any stars to retain about it. Richie didn’t need to call you. Carmen told you himself who he is, just fine.

Please make eye-contact. Please look him in the eyes, you used to do it all the time. You might never look him in the eyes again, please do it one more time. He didn’t savour it, before, didn’t hold it, when he should’ve. He would’ve, if he knew it would’ve been the last time. He should’ve been savouring it every time. He should’ve kissed you, when you kissed him on the temple— He should’ve let you know. You’re so smart, when it comes to emotions and things— Everything. Intuitive. If you’d look him in the eyes, you’d be able to tell how sorry he is, how wrong he knows he is for saying everything he said. But you’re downcast, trying to zero in on something.

You swallow, blinking wildly in a failed attempt to stall tears, and nod imperceptibly, digesting his words. He wishes you wouldn’t. This is the last thing he’d want you to eat.

Sydney is already rushing to your side, her station long forgotten. “Yoyoyoyoyo—”

She’s distressed, because she cares about you, hurrying to comfort you, taking your hand, then arm, then shoulder. She’s trying to get you to look at her, you won’t. You won’t look at anyone. She’s crouching to get in your field of vision. “C’mon, c’mon—”

Richie is behind you, where he should be, already squaring himself up, making himself taller. Carmen has never wanted someone to hit him, he’s pretty sure, until right now. He just wishes it was you doing it. Fight him back, please. Break his jaw, permanently, please. Keep him from saying anything ever again. Keep him from making you make that face, ever again. He wishes it was you doing it, but he’ll take Richie as a close second.

Richie steps in front of you, grabbing him by his collar, good. “How could you fuckin’ say that shit to Chippy—”

“Please don’t call me Chip.” Is the first thing you say, voice quiet, cracking. You’re pinching the bridge of your nose, hard, thumb nail digging in. Eyes closed. You’re trying to hold it down. “Not right now.”

And like a guard dog, Richie heels. Of course, Richie would find you more important than violence. He cares. You put a hand over Syd's, on your shoulder, squeezing it. “I’m good, Syd.”

Everyone knows you’re not good. Your voice cracks painfully, again, when you say you’re good. “Just gimme a second.”

“I love you, dude.”

“I know, Syd—” “Will you let me?” “I—”

You take one deep breath, slow, rubbing your thumb over her hand. She gives you a clean dish rag. You wipe your tears and blow your nose. When you lift your head back up, to face the crowd that is the kitchen, it’s like it never happened. Well, your face still has that puffiness and redness to it, and your eyes certainly look irritated and glassy. But you’ve gathered such resolve back, immediately. Hardened up, immediately. Turned off a sect of yourself. If Carmen didn’t know you, he doesn’t think he’d be able to tell you were just crying.

“Apologize,” —He'll grovel to high hell— “To Richie.”

Carmen’s eyes flicker with confusion, just for a second, you catch it. You repeat, clearer. “Apologize to Richie. Say you didn’t fuckin’ mean that.”

Carmen doesn’t need a broken jaw, to go speechless, apparently. You don’t care to defend yourself at all, here. Never put yourself first. He frowns, you don’t take it the right way, no, why would you? You speak with an extra layer of gravity.

“Berzatto.” Hurts worse than when you say Carmen with disappointment. Deserved punishment.

“I’m sorry, Richie…Not nothing.”

“Not fuckin’ forgiven—” You put a hand up, turning your head to face the man behind you. “Rich.”

“Oh, don’t—”

“Say sorry—” “He fuckin’ started it—” “You didn’t have to entertain it.” “He was bein’ a bitch—” “Jerimovich!”It’s more fun, when you do it to Richie. More kindergarten teacher like, breaking up a fight at recess.

“I’m fuckin’ sorry, Cousin.” Richie does not mean it. It’s okay. He doesn’t have to. He was right. Didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.

You turn back to Carmen, of whom you still will not make eye contact. That’s fair. “Can Richie take five?” He doesn’t like that you feel like you have to ask him for permission, now. “He’s gotta help me carry tools, to my car.”

That’s a chance to talk to you, alone. “I can—”

“No.” You shoot Carmen down quickly. “Richie’s got it. You’ve gotta keep your kitchen in order.”

That hurts. But he said it. He said it was his kitchen, he said you didn’t work here. You’re so much more than an employee. You’re family, everyone here treats you like family. This is your kitchen, too. He doesn’t really care what anyone else thinks, right now, but it also occurring to him that he said all that in front of everyone here, everyone who adores you. None of these people have seen this side of you— You didn’t come to the funeral. This is probably why. It’s pretty clear you don’t like crying in front of people, the way you immediately go somewhere else mentally.

Richie’s already walking, you didn’t actually ask him to grab your tools from the corner of the kitchen, but he just does it. Wordless. Richie knows how to show that he loves you. Carmen could learn, from that. Carmen could learn from Sydney too, she said it, and she’s still holding your arm.

Carmen takes a step forward to you, and what you mean by it, he’s not sure, but what he does see, is you take a step back. He immediately takes two steps back.

You’re very good. Too good, too good for anyone. Not gonna change my mind ‘bout that. That’s what he said to you, when you confessed you were worried he would ‘figure out’ you weren’t good. He lied to you. The other shoe dropped and he’s the one that made it.

You sniff, you feel bad for taking a step back, but you think if Carmen touched you right now, you’d have a full-blown meltdown, and you’d like to hold some modicum of respect amongst your peers here.

Carmen hates you. You didn’t expect that. But it’s fair. You’re not certain what he saw along with the joint bank account, but if he was able to put the pieces together, it makes sense. You failed his brother, failed Mikey. God, it’s still ringing in your ears. You killed him. Everyone knows that. Everyone hates you. He said the quiet thing, that everyone here knows, out loud. You didn’t do enough. You weren’t smart enough. You failed to do the one job you’ve been trained for, save someone, set them at ease— For fuckssake, just keep your friend from dying. Is that so fucking difficult? Was that so hard? He’s right to say it. You don’t have the right to be upset right now. He doesn’t owe you anything. You owe him.

You owe him.

You look to Syd, “You have a pen?”

You can tell she doesn’t like that you’re essentially blocking off the part of your brain that feels pain. What’d she expect? You were an E.M.T. for three years, you learned how to turn off your brain. She gives you the pen from her breast pocket anyways. You dig through your pants pocket for a slip of paper, oh shit, the note from Sweeps, you completely forgot about it. It’s a folded guest check, it says ‘B12’ on the front. Booth Twelve, you infer. You unfold and read Sweeps' chicken scratch. It’s nice to focus on something that isn’t the rotting feeling inside you… No fucking way.

“Sweeps!”

“Yuh-huh?” It’s nice that Sweeps has only just came back in from his smoke break. He has no idea why everyone’s shocked and/or enraged right now, and there’s something beautiful and perfect about that. Sanct.

“Did he seem serious?” You hold the note between two fingers for him to see and know what you’re talking about.

Sweeps shrugs, slipping his Marlboro pack into his inner breast pocket. “You can fuckin’ read that guy?”

A very fair call. You sigh, then flip the note over, it’s hard to write, using your hand as a pad, but it doesn’t really matter, neatness doesn’t matter. Just write it fast so you can get the fuck out of here and cry in your car about a boy that doesn’t love you and never will.

“Freezer door hotfix, eighty. Plumbing repair, took about four hours, that’s two-fifty. House call oven, seventy. Oven hotfix just now, plus replacement part costs… One-twenty.”

You hate doing this. It sucks to be doing this. This is what the fucking painting was for. Why couldn’t he just let you do it in the order you wanted? You were supposed to start this on a better page.

“Said I’d pay you back for that pinot, which is about twenty on wholesale, so… Five hundred even.”

You click and unclick the pen, several times, shoulders tensing. “I don’t think you need fixing, and I wasn’t trying to make up for anything. I’m sorry, Carmen.”

“I’m—” It’s the first time he’s tried to speak, and you just can’t let him. You can’t listen to his voice right now, you know it’s unfair, but you can’t, so you interrupt him.

“I didn’t tell Nat you covered the invoice.”

You hand him the note, careful to hold it at the very edges, so you don’t make contact when he takes it. “I owe you two thousand.”

At the bottom of your shoddy invoice, it reads, ‘Advanced Payment, M. Berzatto. $2,500.’

You told him it was fucking complicated.

He should’ve let it lie. He should’ve bitten his fucking tongue, like you did for him constantly. You told Nat her brother covered the invoice; you just didn’t say which one. Was it intentionally sneaky? Yeah, obviously, because how were you supposed to fucking explain that? It’s fucking complicated. But no, Carmen didn’t fucking want to hear anything you tried to explain, so you’re just gonna let his stupid fucking dumbfounded face stay that way. If he just told you what he actually saw, like a fucking adult, you could’ve done so, happily. But Carmen hates you, and he’s decided what you are. He probably doesn’t want to hear much of your voice, anyways. Keep it short.

“So just… I’ll just uhm… Wire you. Or something.”

You sigh, thinking about what’s on the other side of that fucking note. “You have my number, you can give it to him, if you want.”

The Exec liked the cherry and lamb dish. Of course he would, it was perfect. It also seems like he enjoys that you’re both smart and clearly ‘spunky’, or some shit. He wants the ‘wine girl’s’ number. Didn’t even bother to remember you said Jack. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll send the mystical wine girl his close friend Michelin Guide Inspector’s number, and maybe they’ll review the place. Maybe. Doesn’t matter to you. Not your kitchen.

A chance at a chance at a chance or your well-being? That’s Carmen’s choice now.

You snap your finger, pointing to the note, remembering. You never brought The Guy a wine, “Pinot Noir. Marcassin 2013. Top left shelf. Pit a cherry and put it on the rim.” It's the perfect pairing, for his dish.

At least get him a star, if he has to hate you.

When you start to move, Syd’s still holding onto you. You don’t pull her off, but you do put your hand over hers, and she knows what you want. She doesn’t care. She repeats. “Will you let me?”

Goddammit. Does she want you crying all over again? You’re trying very hard to not look like a wuss, right now. “I will. Just need five minutes alone, okay? I’ll wait outside.”

She doesn’t want to, but you’re not giving her many other options here, so Syd nods and lets you go. “Five minutes.”

“Five minutes.” You clap your hands together, eyes glazing over the rest of the staff. Rest of your family. You’re trying not to read their expressions because if you do you very well might scream, cry, and throw up all at the same time. “Everyone! Back to work! It’s half past five you’ve still got a whole night ahead, look alive, Chefs.”

You pass Carmen, careful not to bump shoulders. Just get out of here unscathed. Hopefully he’s not too mad about the dish swap. You made the right call. It won’t matter if he’s mad, anyways, actually, he already hates you.

At least be something of value, for him, if he has to hate you.

Richie’s out there, leaning against the trunk of your shitty 2004 Dodge Intrepid. How he knew it was yours, you’re not sure. Probably the goofy bumper stickers. It’s a piece of shit. Broken fob. You have to use your key to unlock the trunk. It still works. You speak at once.

“What the fuck was that?”

You both laugh, though it’s hollow. You unlock the trunk, Richie throws your tools in. He’s first to add. “You didn’t actually want me to fuckin’ apologize, did you?”

You shrug, head tilting back and forth, he kisses his teeth, you supplement. “Listen, the ‘you don’t have a kid’— Touch crazy.”

“He fuckin’ started it!” “I know he fuckin’ did, I’m not defendin’ him!”

You purse your lips. There was the other thing Richie said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at the funeral, Cousin.”

“Ah, oh…” Richie attempts to wave it off, shrugging, as if it wasn’t a huge fucking deal to him just two minutes ago. “It’s good—”

“It’s not.” You interject. Richie always says he’s fucking good, when he’s not. He’s not good about Tif, he’s not good about the Exec making fun of him, he’s not good about you abandoning him, for a year. “It’s not good, Richie, and I’m sorry.”

You swallow, closing your trunk. You attempt to remember bits and pieces of your prepared speech, from dinner. But this is reality, and typically once transferred from your mind, it makes the words so much clunkier, lines forgotten, here and there.

“I should’ve been here, after. It was fucked up, that I just left. Made you hold it down, by yourself, and— And I can’t fucking imagine, Richie, how hard that must’ve been.”

Standing in The Bear is a touch easier, because it’s so different now. But Richie was there, days after Mikey died, in The Beef. Taking smoke breaks with a shadow that was no longer next to him. Forced to keep morale up, all by himself. You can imagine how hard it must’ve been, and that’s exactly why you stopped coming around.

Richie can only bring himself to nod, swiping his nose, because it’s starting to run.

“I— I didn’t cut you out. I want you to know that.” Carmen was so cruel, with that shit. “That wasn’t me cutting you out. I— I was tryna cut myself out.”

He halfheartedly laughs, confused. “Fucks that mean, Cousin?”

“I—” How can you word this in a way that isn’t just as cruel? “I didn’t think we were friends.”

He mimics being shot. You add, “Fuckin’ listen—” “Fuckin’ drive-by—”

“I just didn’t think— I don’t think anyone’s my friend, I don’t think.”

“What’s that even begin to mean?”

“I… I feel like… I’m just like… So insecure, about my place in relationships, that like— Like I’m not worth people’s time. Like we were only friends because we were friends with Mikey and we were handling him and I was like— Like I was helpful. So, like, when he died, it was like… We— There was no reason, for you to be friends with me, anymore. No us.”

Richie takes a moment, to digest it. The silence is terrible for you though, so you continue. “I’m startin’ to realize, that not likin’ myself, can actually really end up hurtin’ the people I love—”

“I’d still love you, even if you weren’t helpful. By the by.”

Richie’s interruption hits you in the chest like a fucking freight train. “Oh Jesus Christ, Richie—”

“What? What the fuck—”

“That was just fuckin’ crazy.” You cover your eyes, tears already coming to a head. He’s relieved, you mean crazy like good.

“Fuck, Richie, I love you.” You sniff, trying to look at him through watery eyes, it’s near impossible to do without warbling. “Man… You were here.”

Now it’s Richie’s turn to have his tear-jerking trigger phase said. “Oh, don’t start, Chip—”

“You were fucking here, Richie, Carmen doesn’t fuckin’ get that— No one gets that.” You’re kind of blubbering, honestly, starting to point at him, speaking emphatically. It might be better that this is happening in the parking lot rather than in the middle of the restaurant.

“You’re fucking— You’re fucking something, okay? Carmen is a bitch, you were right— You’re good, Richie. You’re fucking good and—and— You were here, and you’re important, and— And— I didn’t fuckin’ say that enough, back then. So, I’m fuckin’ doin’ it now. I love you, and I’m here, and if fuckin’— If Eva ever needs anything, I’m there, if you’re ever in need, I’m there. If you just want to fuckin— Fuckin’ text someone, and actually just hang out like Normals—I’m there for that, too. I’d even go to fucking Tif’s wedding with you, if that helped.”

Richie’s got a couple tears going, which is good for you, because it makes your sobbing less embarrassing. “Fuck, Cousin…” He looks down, rubbing the bridge of his nose, like a self-soothing technique. When he looks back up to face you, he blurts it out.

“You wanna see a Taylor Swift concert wit’ me?”

Your response is immediate and baffled, “What?”

“I’ve got three tickets for me n’ Eva but Tif won’t come, it’s in January.”

You take a moment to buffer, brain half moving out of the tender moment. Shaking your head in disbelief, still fully crying.

“Richie… That sounds, like the worst experience I could ever imagine. You couldn’t pay me to write an outing so perfectly curated to be the worst, for me.”

“Don’t fuckin’ hate on T Swift—” “Richie, I’d love to.”

The death grip grab and hug is so immediate. You feel bad for getting tears and probably snot on his coat, but he said himself it’s a knock off, so he’ll live.

“You didn’t fail Mikey, Chip.” He kisses the crown of your head. Richie must be a good dad. You’d tell him that, but he might overload, the man doesn’t get acknowledged much, you’ve got to take it slow with the praise. You don’t reply to his sentiment, so he repeats it.

“Y’did everythin’ you humanly could.”

“I could’ve done a couple things different.”

“So could I. It my fault, too, then?”

You both know very well, that you blame yourselves. And as much as both of you would like it to, this one cry-fest isn’t going to magically make all of those bleeding guilts go away. Especially not after Carmen tore those stitches right back open.

“Well, no—” “‘Xactly.”

But you accept it, for the moment. “…Okay.” For this moment, you get the lesson.

And you’ll both forget it tomorrow, when you have that split second in the A.M. Where Mikey is still alive, before you remember. But right now, it’s neither of your faults that the glue between you died and left you both to figure out how to still stick together. You stay in that hug for quite a while, crying and rocking back and forth, before Richie lets go saying, “Aright, I do actually need a fuckin’ cig.”

“You’re going to give me second hand smoke and kill me.”

He smirks, already fishing out a loosie from his pocket. “We can only hope.”

Despite your complaints and not being a smoker, you still pull out a lighter for him. Mom friend. Never know when you’re going to need a fire. You cup the flame for him. This is the worst Friday of your life, you’re pretty sure. But here is Richie, sticking beside you. And here you are, sticking beside him.

Syd steps out, she keeps crossing between a walk and a jog to you two, unsure of what looks more awkward. You don’t know, but you do know the option of switching between both is easily the most awkward.

She asks, walk-jogging up to you, “Are you good?”

“I’ve been better.”

She grabs your face in her hands, reviewing your puffy bleary-eyed face. Just looking at it makes her want to cry, too. You hold her wrists. “M’sorry for cryin’ in your kitchen. I know that’s the type shit you deal with all the time—”

Richie and Syd speak in unison, a rarity, for them to be on the same page. “No the fuck it’s not.”

Sydney continues, “That was extremely not normal. Crazy fucked up of him to say that shit— I don’t even know like— Like any of the backstory, but even I know that was fucked up to say.”

You sniff, nodding slightly. “Yeah, a little.”

“A lot.”

You nod, no longer fighting to downplay it. That was fucked up of Carmen, you don’t need to try to make it seem less bad. “Yeah, a lot.”

She nods back, still holding your face. Bandaged fingers pressed against your head. “What d’you wanna do?”

“Go home?” Cry? Eat freezer cake?

“Well, yeah.” She chuckles, so you do too. “I mean like, like—” She nods behind her, to The Bear. What do you want to do going forward? Never talk to him again? I’ll do it, too. She’s saying, wordlessly.

“I— I don’t fuckin’ know.” You admit, laughing, but hollow. The very idea of reconciliation feels impossible, at the moment. “I think I’m just gonna, fuckin’ ignore it, until it comes up. Just don’t break shit until I figure it out, I guess.”

“Wedding gig is gonna be so awkward.”

“Oh, fuck—” Entirely forgot, about the wedding gig, next weekend. Vinnie and Mira, destination wedding. New York.

Richie pipes in, “Tonight’s gonna be awkward enough, don’t even wanna go the fuck back in.”

Syd nods, letting go of your face. “I think like, half the kitchen wants to walk right now, just to fuck with him. I do, too. Should we just say fuck this and go to Mattina?”

“Don’t think they’re open, only do breakfast and lunch.” Richie knows their hours; it wasn’t always just Mikey and you there. He takes a drag, he blows it away from you, so you don’t get second hand smoke.

“Fuck... Could do Denny’s? Inky, you fuck with Denny’s, still?”

‘Think once you realize, you’ll leave, and it’ll all leave with you.’ That’s what Carmen was scared of, exactly. What he thought would happen, if the other shoe dropped. Is this you leaving? This might be you leaving. This should be more dramatic, if this is you leaving, shouldn’t it? There should be finale music ringing in your ears, somehow. But instead, you’re in a parking lot with a chain smoker and your girl, making shitty diner plans.

You can’t let them leave Carmen. So much work cannot be wasted just for your hurt heart. You shake your head— Then nod, confusing yourself. “I—I do still fuck with Denny’s, but y’all have to go back in, you can’t fuck him over.”

“I very specifically want to fuck him over.” Syd’s quick to reply, Richie nods, agreeing. These two are only bonding over a mutual love of you and a current mutual hate of Carmen.

“You gotta get your star, Squid.”

She swallows, at that. She loves you, she does. But you’re right. You always are. This is her entirely livelihood and career, she can’t just dip out, because of a fight. She’s done it before, during the worst rush of her life, but that was small potatoes compared to this.

“Go hold it down,” You look at both of them, nodding to The Bear. “Don’t let anyone walk, solidarity is cute, but I’ll be okay.”

Regardless of how right you are, both Richie and Syd boo you. “Let him drown!”

It’s hard not to laugh. “Fuckin’ —guys— I’m serious.”

“I’m fuckin’ serious too, Chip!” Richie jabs at your shoulder, lightly, “Thought you said you take me fuckin’ serious?”

“Bitch—” You click your tongue, pointing at him, sighing. You can’t help but smile. They’re both on your team, to the bitter end. “I will see you at the wedding, aright? I’ll text you, both of you.”

“You driving, too?”

You and Syd both back up, for a second, expressions baffled. You’re first to ask Richie, “You’re driving?”

He’s equally confused. “What, you’re fuckin’ flying?”

“Cicero’s paying, why wouldn’t we?”

“Uncle Jimmy is fuckin’ paying?!” Richie gives him an emotionally charged chocolate covered banana and still hasn’t gotten on Uncle’s good side? This is bullshit.

“He’s paying for everyone! Or at least I thought he was—” Syd replies for you. “That was like the whole fuckin’ deal— Did you not get emailed a boarding pass?”

“No! He told me to get gas— You’re fuckin’ flying—?”

You clap your hands together, “Richie, what the fuck is going on in your life that this is not the first thing that you clarified for plans?” You tap Syd on the shoulder, “Marcus said he’s cool with switching seats, by the way, so we can sit together.”

“I have a fuckin kid, aright—”

“Ooohh—” You and Syd mock him in unison. “We get it.” “Whoop-di-doo.” “Did you hear, Squid?” “What’s that, Inky?” “Richie has a kid!” “What? No way. He definitely doesn’t bring it up all the fuckin’ time.”

“Alright, fuck you two.” He waves you both off. “Plane's gonna crash.”

Syd shrugs, “You’re doing a twelve-hour road trip, you’re gonna crash—”

“Fucks Inky mean anyways? Stupid ass nickname—” “Oh, like Chip is so original—” “Actually, a dead guy coined it, so betchu feel real dumb now—” “I’m not capable of feeling dumb—”

You interrupt, “Girls, girls, you’re both beautiful.”

That quells them with snorts of laughter, quickly. They both shove at you. Equilibrium.

You explain to Rich, “I called Syd ‘Squid’ in high-school— Literally just ‘cause it sounds funny, and uh, she felt jealous that she didn’t have one for me—”

“I don’t know if jealous is the word—” “So Inky just became the call n’ response. Cause, cause squid ink?”

“Yeah, I’m not fuckin’ stupid. I can do two plus two, Chip.” Richie tucks his hands in his pockets. It’s starting to get a little chilly. You’re now remembering you left Carmen’s jacket at expo. Goddammit, now you’re remembering Carmen and your heart hurts again. You hug your shoulders.

“What’s Chip, anyways?” Syd asks, you and Richie both cringe, just slightly. Syd mimics it. “Bad?”

You shrug, “Just… It takes a lot, to explain, I guess.” Personal. “We’ll need a trip to Denny’s, for that one.”

“So? Let’s go.”

What did you just say. “Bitch—”

“Heard.” Syd cuts you off, laughing. She gives you a tight hug. “Text me when you get home.”

You hug her back, even tighter, if possible. “I will.”

“I’m glad you’re back.” It’s been three years, since you were really daily friends with Syd. And though you clicked right back into place no problem, in this hug, the feeling really starts to set in of how much you two needed each other this whole time. It’s been so long since you both had a best friend. It was good to be apart, and learn things apart, but now you’re both back. It’s not just Richie that you returned to.

“I’m glad I’m back, too.” You clap her back a few times, before letting go. “Alright, it’s been like ten fucking minutes, go be great. Get a star. Or a chance at a chance for a star.”

“Heard, Chip.” “Heard, Ink.”

One last hug from Richie, before they head back in, and you pop in your car, and drive off. Back home. Music blasts from your radio the entire ride, to keep you from thinking. Screaming along to diss tracks help soothe the soul in any scenario, you think. Won’t let anything hit, this way.

A stray cat, the stray cat, the one you feed on your fire escape, is surprise surprise, on your fire escape, when you get home. She’s (you think she’s a she, you’re not super sure how to check, you’re a former E.M.T, not a Vet tech.) biting the flowers you potted out there. The flowers Carmen stole for you.

After a quick google check to make sure none of them are poisonous to cats, you let her. Let the cat decide how much of him stays. You dish out a pile of kibble for her on the one black plate Carmen gave you. You leave it on the fire escape, long after she finishes. Let the elements decide if it gets ruined.

Let Carmen breaking your text streak, never sending you a belated Connections result tonight, decide if this is the end.

This could be the end.

The same picture frame that fell off your wall, just two weeks ago, when you were making the painting for Carmen, falls again. You grumble, picking up the picture frame, setting it on the coffee table. You’ll nail it up properly in the morning. You roll your eyes at the phantom that you’re never certain actually haunts you.  “Mikey, shut the fuck up, this is your fault, y’know…”

You sigh, staring nowhere. The wind blows against your window.  “I guess it's both our faults.”

You drag your feet, walking to your bedroom.

“I know you said I’d be a perfect match for your little brother, but at this point, I’m taking that as a read.”

It was so fun for me, the way y'all were like, ah, i'm sure this'll be so painful when this is resolved next chapter because Carmen will scream at her about it. hahahahahhaha-- You think the least yet most direct bitch of all time was going to actually confront what he was upset about? NO1!!!!!!! WE'VE ONLY GOT MORE QUESTIONS NOW. WHAT THE FUCK CARMEN!!! What's with that Advanced Payment? And I didn't lie bro, go back and read it, Tony did say Nat's brother covered it. Sneaky sneaky....

Oh, also. Y'all thought I would let the freezer fight slide by? Naahhhh, golden moment of television, just delayed the inevitable muhahahahha and got the FAILED MIKEY?!?!?!?! BROOOOOOOO was it as bad as you thought it would be or no? worse? better? lmk

I loved writing Syd and Richie w/ Tony here. I can't believe any of you thought I wouldn't see Richie and Tony's much needed reconciliation through--- If this was a Richie fanfic, 100% this would've been their smooch moment, fr. Also if you're a taylor swift fan, please don't be mad at me i was doing a funny okokokokokok-- (I also just think it means a lot more, if it's something she doesn't want to do, but will, for him)

i know it's technically still 2022 in their universe but tony was in that fucking car ride home listening to fuckin Ain't Shit, HISS, euphoria, Like That, Not Like Us, Not Nice (YOUR MAMA AINT WORTH THE CRACK YOU SMOKE BITCH!!!!!!!) I know she was so heated in there.

We've got a taglist, I'm bad at keeping track of it, but remember if u wanna be added to this silly little thing you need to hand in an essay (more like a cute lil paragraph) tellin' me what you thought! And also ask. Duh. BUT YA GOTTA DO BOTH!~

@anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @slut4supersoldiers @sinceweremutual @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin

I am sorry if your tag doesn't work this is why I hate tag lists tumblr always makes me manually type and sometimes it still don't even work...

As always, i'm always so grateful that you've given me your attention with reading, and if you have thoughts, i'd love to hear em! I always read your comments/reblogs too, even if I don't always reply. Adore y'all.

[michaelsfavgirl]

through the keyhole

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: While Michael attends to his duties as a devoted husband (taking you to pound town), the maids arrive unnoticed. Drawn by the sinful sounds echoing from your bedroom, they find themselves unable to resist eavesdropping.

Tags: smut, established-relationship (y'all are married <3), OCs, p in v, mating press, voyeurism, creampie, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), fingering, lots of drama, legal ramifications, mike being the worlds no. 1 husband.

Word Count: 7.2k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: Although I'm proud of this, the writing process for this was hell! But anyway, I need detailed reports on what y'all think about everything as compensation, thank you very much.

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

The noise of the curtains fluttering from the warm wind and the quiet chatter of the TV wakes you from your slumber. It's most definitely way past the acceptable time for a lie-in, probably closer to noon, but you don't care. With the way last night ended, with shared moans bouncing off the walls, no one could blame you. He had been so desperate for your touch after shutting himself in the studio for hours, hungrily taking you again and again until you couldn't string sentences together anymore.

Speaking of the incubus himself, as you open your eyes, before you can even muster up the strength to stretch your sore limbs, you're met with a tantalizing sight of Michael sprawled out on the bed next to you, absentmindedly watching the television. He's leaning against a pillow propped up against the headboard, completely nude. This isn't surprising, but what captures your attention is his soft and heavy length resting enticingly against his thigh, looking as delicious as ever. You try to ignore the slickness pooling between your thighs.

His cock is a sight to behold, thick and veiny, with a prominent ridge running along the underside. The head, peeks out from his uncut foreskin, is swollen and glistening with remnants of your previous night's activities. You  can't tear your eyes away from it, from the way it lays there just waiting for your touch.

You groan inwardly. How is he so nonchalant about this? How can he just sit there, so casually, with his massive cock on full display? Doesn't he know what effect it has on you, how it makes you crave him like nothing else?

You keep staring shamelessly, your eyes trailing every little detail. In your already fuzzy state, you don't notice Michael glancing at you, an amused smile growing on his face as he follows your half-lidded gaze.

Teasingly, he readjusts his body, making his hips thrust upwards slightly, causing his thick cock to bounce a little. You whimper quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. That sound doesn't even register in your mind until you hear him chuckle. Your eyes dart upwards to his face, feeling your cheeks grow hotter under his amused gaze.

"Enjoying the view, huh?" he teases, and you quickly turn onto your back, facing the opposite direction to avoid his stare.

"None of that," he murmurs, reaching over to cup your face and gently turn your gaze back to him. "Look at me."

And you do. Goodness gracious, how does he manage to be so gorgeous even with his curls messily framing his face? Your eyes linger on his lips as you try not to look directly into his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk as he gently positions your face higher, silently commanding you to meet his gaze.

His long fingers trace your cheeks as he brings your faces closer together, forehead to forehead, noses bumping. He leaves the softest of kisses on your cheeks before pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is slow and unrushed; he doesn't even bother moving his lips much, just softly keeps them pressed against yours.

"Did you sleep well, baby?" he asks after pulling away, making you unconsciously lean in for more. You nod and nuzzle your cheek deeper into his warm palm. "Yeah? I'm not too surprised," he says, trying to suppress a smirk. You had fallen asleep last night while he was cleaning you up during aftercare, that's how thoroughly he had tired you out, but it's not like you're complaining. You playfully hit his chest..

Michael's chuckle rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your skin as you lay there, feeling the warmth of his body seeping into yours. He shifts slightly, the movement drawing your eyes back down to his impressive length. He notices and smirks again, his hand moving to gently guide your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze once more.

"I know what you’re thinking about," he begins, his voice a low, seductive purr, “know what you’re craving."

Your breath hitches at his words, the passion in his eyes making your heart flutter. His thumb strokes your cheek, and he leans in, pressing another tender but more heated kiss to your lips. The kiss deepens this time, his tongue gently parting your lips, exploring your mouth with a languid passion that leaves you breathless. When he pulls away, his eyes are dark with desire.

His hands trail from your hips to your naked pussy, cupping it in his large palm, feeling the warm skin against his hand. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, making you gasp. His finger slips through your folds, gliding between your glistening flesh with ease. He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear, "Always so needy, aren't you?"

Before you can respond with an eye roll at his usual teasing, he moves on top of you, spreading your thighs wide. Your breath catches in your throat as you look up at him. He groans at the sight of your drenched pussy, marveling at it for what feels like an eternity. His eyes hungrily stare at your already pulsing clit, desperately begging for attention.

 "Do I have to fuck you every morning for you to function properly?"

Your heartbeat quickens at his words, your hips bucking towards him instinctively. He spreads your thighs even farther apart, shushing your whines with an authoritative raise of his brows. "You know what to say," he prompts, his voice low and commanding.

"...Please touch me," you murmur shyly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He decides to tease you further, enjoying the power he has over you, "What was that? I didn't quite hear you."

"Please, Michael," you beg, a little louder this time, "please fuck me."

"That's more like it," he says with a satisfied expression, taking in your already needy state before reaching over to his nightstand. He opens the top drawer and grabs a bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount onto his lengthy shaft. He strokes his cock a few times, ensuring it's well-lubricated. Without the lube, it's impossible for him to ever make love to you without unwanted pain; he's just too big. Whatever's left on his fingers he spreads it across your already glossy folds, circling your hole for longer than is necessary. 

He gives you a look, silently making sure you still want this. After you nod enthusiastically he positions himself at your tight entrance, dragging his swollen tip up and down your flesh before gently pushing in the head, watching as your cunt stretches around him. With the events of last night, it's not as difficult as it might have been otherwise. His cockhead slips past your folds with ease, and you already feel yourself clenching around him.

"Needy girl," he murmurs under his breath, his voice thick with desire.

He torturously slowly slides half of his cock into your wetness and pulls out. Repeating this endlessly until his fat length is fully swallowed by your greedy pussy, “There we go,” he breathes out at finally watching your folds stretch around his thickness. His prominent veins deliciously rub against your slick walls, eliciting breathless moans from your lips. Your eyes flutter from the stretch, the sensation overwhelming, head pressing deeper into the plush pillow.

He steals a peck from your lips and squeezes your hips. He thrusts slowly at first, hips grinding smoothly at a mellow pace, savoring every inch of you. Consequently, making you think he's going to go easy on you but when has Michael Jackson ever been predictable?

At a speed that has your eyes widening he presses you further into the bed, folding your legs closer to your shoulders, putting you in a deep mating press that leaves you breathless. Before you can utter more than his name, he drives his hips against the back of your thighs, completely filling you up. “Jesus fucking christ Michael.” you choked out.

He picks up the pace, ramming his meaty cock into your squelching pussy. Your essence creates a white ring around his base, making him groan in pleasure. This new angle allows you to feel every inch of him deeper and deeper inside you. You can't control yourself, your moans growing louder and louder. Your eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open as filthy whines and moans escape.

As he keeps pounding you into the mattress, he looks at your face and almost cums on the spot. The sounds in the bedroom are sinful - a mix of your moans and his grunts blending together, the bed banging against the wall with every hard thrust of his hips, skin slapping rhythmically.

"Look at you, already going dumb on my cock," he awes, his voice full of adoration.

You nod while not quite sure what you’re agreeing to, his words barely registering in your mind through the haze of pleasure. His smirk widens at your response, watching your nails dig into the sheets. The room starts to fill with the smell of sex, the musky scent only turning him on more.

He continues to fuck you fast and hard, his coily pubic hair rubbing against your throbbing clit, making your hips buck, chasing more of that sweet friction. Your moans grow louder, and if his cock wasn't so good, you'd try to be quieter. But all you can think about is how good he feels inside you, stretching you, filling you completely.

Your heavenly sounds drive him wild, he loves how in the mornings your sleepiness makes you more uninhibited, your cries ringing through his ears. But still, he decides to reach over towards the remote, turning up the volume of the TV to drown out the noises. Although he's never cared about the maids or security hearing him, he knows that when you come down from your high, you'll appreciate this gesture. 

As you both lose yourselves in the throes of passion, the maids: Annie, Susie, and Diana make their way towards the entrance of the sprawling estate for their weekly cleaning duties. The warm rays of the sun cast a serene ambiance over the grounds, punctuated by the tranquil chirping of birds, blissfully masking the storm of debauchery that awaits them inside.

"You know, I still can't believe they faked everything," Susie remarks, squinting against the sunlight.

"I'm actually not that surprised, they always seemed fishy to me," Annie replies and smiles at Susie’s scrunched up face.

"Come on now, they named themselves Milli Vanilli, what kind of name is that?" Diana chimes in, adding her two cents to the conversation.

As they ascend the doorsteps and open the front door, entering the home, Annie continues her thought, "I mean, all singers lip-sync now. They're just the ones that got ca—"

Diana abruptly pinches Annie’s arm, cutting her off with a sharp sting, "Ow, what the hell—"

"Girl, shush!" Diana whispers urgently, motioning for silence.

The three maids strain their ears, their attention drawn by the unmistakable erotic sounds emanating from the bedroom—a rhythm of skin slapping against skin, accentuated by soft moans and gasps. Susie instinctively covers her mouth, freezing in place with wide eyes. None of them move a muscle as they process what they are hearing.

"Are they…?" Annie starts tentatively.

"Oh, absolutely." With wide eyes they exchange shocked glances. None of them move a muscle, unsure how to handle the unexpected discovery. Honestly how do you go about stumbling across your boss fucking his wife? 

Diana, always the boldest of the trio, begins to tiptoe toward the hallway leading to the bedroom, prompting panicked whispers from the others.

"Diana! What are you doing?" Annie hisses urgently.

Rolling her eyes, Diana smirks back at them. "As if you two aren't just as curious," she retorts, continuing her stealthy approach toward the imposing double doors that shield a scene of raw intimacy unfolding behind them. Annie and Susie exchange resigned groans but follow cautiously behind.

Pressing their ears against the wood, they strain to catch every moan and whispered utterance, their curiosity piqued despite the scandalous nature of their eavesdropping.

"This is crazy," Susie breathes out in a hushed voice.

Unaware of the maids' clandestine surveillance, Michael drives into you with unrelenting force, his powerful hips slamming with yours in a relentless rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your senses overwhelmed by the delicious sensation of every ridge and vein of his cock stretching you to your limits. Your back arches instinctively, your slick walls gripping him tightly, sucking him deeper into your warmth.

"Greedy fucking pussy," Michael's voice groans with desire, strained with the effort of holding back. he mutters, the words laced with need. "Squeezing me so tight."

"P-please," you stutter, your voice barely a whisper amid the relentless assault of his powerful thrusts. "It’s too much."

"You can take it," he growls, his breath hot against your skin as he leans closer, his chain dangling temptingly in front of your face. "I know you can. You’re my good girl." His movements are deliberate, claiming you completely.

In a moment of pure instinct, you gently bite his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin as pleasure overtakes you. The bed beneath you rocks with each forceful rock of his hips, the headboard banging rhythmically against the wall. The murmur of the TV in the background does little to mask the crescendo of your combined moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

He adjusts his position slightly, angling his length to hit that sweet spot deep inside you. Your entire body trembles with the promise of release, his warm breath against your neck adding to the overwhelming sensations flooding your senses.

Meanwhile, outside the bedroom, Susie murmurs breathlessly, "Y’all hearing this shit?" Her pulse quickens with excitement. "I’ve never heard anything like it."

"That damn TV, can’t hear anything," Diana complains, pressing her ear harder against the wall in a futile attempt to drown out the sounds from within.

"They're really going at it, huh?" Annie whispers, trying to stifle a chuckle. "Didn't know Mr. Jackson had it in him." Her eyes widen with playful astonishment. "I mean, I knew he was passionate, but this...?"

"Lord forgive me for sinning," Susie quips, crossing herself dramatically as Diana giggles at her theatrics. "Oh, stop it, you."

"And half the country thinks he's a virgin," Annie adds with a sly grin. "Isn't that ironic?" Their cheeky banter fades as they're filled with arousal and a twinge of envy, listening intently to the man they've all undoubtedly fantasized about, lost in passion with his beloved behind closed doors.

Back in the bedroom, Michael pulls back to look into your eyes, his own darkened with lust. He grips your jaw and "You like that, baby? You like being fucked like this?" His words send shivers down your spine, your gummy walls instantly tighten around him.

"Yes," you gasp, your voice breaking with need. "God, yes."

"I want you to make a mess on my cock," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, igniting a fresh wave of heat within you. "Can you do that for me, sweetheart?" You nod eagerly, breathless whimpers escaping your lips.

"Listen to how loud she's moaning," Annie murmurs from outside, her voice tinged with envy. "She must be feeling real good."

As you approach the brink of release, Michael grins devilishly, his movements becoming almost frantic to draw out the exquisite tension building between you. With every plunge of his fat cock sliding deeper and deeper, kissing your cervix, your legs tremble, your body quivering as you hurtle toward release. You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, driving you to a point of true wanton. Uninhibited, sinful moans echo through the room as you claw at the sheets.

Unable to handle your pulsing walls clinging to him he pounds you into the mattress, chasing his own high. As your body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat you try to calm down but the feeling on his bulbous tip flooding your pussy with his hot spurts of cum pushes you towards overstimulation. He sucks love marks on your neck to stifle his groans, as he feels his voluminous cum fill you up completely. He doesn't slow down, riding out your climax, driving you higher and higher until you're nothing but a trembling, incoherent mess beneath him.

Outside, the maids are spellbound, ears pressed against the door, their own breaths quickening in unison with yours.

"Oh my fucking God," Susie whispers, barely audible over the symphony of pleasure spilling from the bedroom. 

"Shh!" 

The maids, captivated, listen intently to your gasps as you climax. They wait a few more moments, taking in the heavy breathing and murmurs of endearment between you and Michael. Once the sounds start to subside, Diana gestures for them to move. “We should get out of here before they catch us.” 

“Uh huh,” Susie agrees, her voice trembling slightly. They tiptoe away from the door, retreating to an empty room down the hall, locking themselves in.

Once inside, they're all breathing heavily, heart pounding in their chests. The air is thick with anticipation, their faces flushed with arousal.

"I- uh…holy shit," Susie’s voice is hushed but tinged with excitement. "She was so loud."

"No shit," Annie replies, her own breath still coming in short bursts. "I mean, it sounded like he was breaking her in half."

“You reckon his dick is really as big as they say?” 

“Jesus Christ D, give us a moment to breathe.”

“I’m just saying, that girl’s always so quiet and sweet you know? Don’t think she’d be the type to fake her moans unless that dick is real good.'' Diana shrugs with a little grin on her face.

Susie fans herself with her hands, trying to cool down. “Yeah that's true, she’s always blushing and looking down when she talks to us, but here she is taking all that from him.”

Annie tries to be civil about all this but can’t help but add, “you think they go at it all the time?”

Diana’s grin grows wider as she nods. “You know it ain’t just a quick thing either, he probably takes his time too, making sure she’s thoroughly satisfied.”

“Lucky girl. I wouldn't mind being in her shoes,” Susie says dreamily.

Diana leans against the door, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You and me both,” she continues, “I gotta say, we have to do that again."

Annie looks at her, bewildered. "Are you crazy? We can’t just stand outside their door listening to them fuck."

Diana rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on. With how hard they were going at it, it's not far-fetched to think they'll do it again tonight. We should wait till they go back to their bedroom and listen in again."

"Absolutely not," Annie insists, crossing her arms defiantly. "That's crossing a line."

But Diana persists, knowing the curiosity and desire are mutual. "Oh, stop with this fake righteous act, y’all liked it, admit it."

Annie looks to Susie for support, but she just shrugs, clearly intrigued by the idea. Diana smirks, sensing victory. "See? Even Susie wants more." Susie, usually the shy one, surprises Annie by siding with Diana. "I mean… It was kinda hot.”

Annie huffs but doesn't entirely reject the idea. Diana’s enthusiasm is infectious, and deep down, Annie knows she’s curious too. "Fine. But how are we gonna do it without getting caught?"

Diana’s smirk grows wider. "We just gotta be smart about it. We know their routine. Once they’re back in the bedroom tonight, we’ll sneak up and listen. Simple." 

Annie finally relents, though still cautious. "If we get caught, it’s on you, D."

Diana grins, clearly enjoying the thrill. "Trust me, it'll be worth it." The three of them continue to hash out their plot, excitement hanging thick in the air.

The trio finally compose themselves after their illicit eavesdropping and gossip session, deciding it's time to actually get to work. They set about their cleaning tasks, though the air between them crackles with the shared secret. Every now and then, one of them breaks the silence with a hushed comment or a knowing glance, the earlier events still fresh in their minds.

As they tidy the living room, the sound of a door opening draws their attention. Michael and you emerge from the bedroom, your body language relaxed and content, a stark contrast to the intense passion that had filled the room earlier. Michael's arm drapes protectively around your waist as he guides you towards the kitchen, his touch gentle and reassuring.

The maids exchange glances, curiosity piqued once more. "Look at them," Susie whispers, her voice barely above a breath. "She looks so satisfied."

Annie, ever the observant one, nods and without looking up continues to do her job. "Bet she is.”

Diana snickers. "Yeah, she looks fucked out, she was moaning so loud. Damn near broke my eardrums." if they hadn't heard your desperate pleas and whimpers they’d definitely find it hard to question your innocence.

From their vantage point in the living room, they peek into the kitchen. You sit down heavily on one of the chairs, your body spent and exhausted, fingers lazily tracing random patterns on the marble counter as you lean your head on your arm . Michael kisses the top of your head and moves with practiced ease, starting to prepare a quick meal for you. His movements are efficient yet tender, his focus solely on making sure you're taken care of.

As you absentmindedly glance around, your eyes meet Susie's. You smile gently and give her a small wave. For a moment, there's a flash of recognition in her widened eyes before she quickly returns the greeting with a shy nod. She turns back to Annie and Diana, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"She saw me," Susie whispers, her voice a mixture of panic and excitement. "She smiled and waved."

Diana snorts. "Probably too blissed out to care. Look at her. She’s got that post-fuck glow."

Annie rolls her eyes, but a small smile plays on her lips. "You two are incorrigible. But yeah, she does look pretty content."

The trio continues their cleaning, though their attention frequently strays back to the kitchen. They can't help but watch as Michael moves about, his focus unwavering as he prepares something for you. Every now and then, he glances your way, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"He’s so attentive," Annie murmurs, almost to herself. "I mean, he just spent all that time… you know… and now he’s making sure she’s okay. That’s so sweet."

Diana smirks. "Yeah, he’s definitely got enough left in him for round two tonight. I can tell.” 

Susie bites her lip, clearly torn between embarrassment and curiosity. "I just hope we don't get caught."

As they continue to clean, their whispers and giggles fill the room, the earlier intensity of their task somewhat forgotten in light of their newfound entertainment. They dust the same shelves over and over again just because the view of the kitchen is by far the best from that specific angle. The sight of you and Michael in the kitchen, a picture of post-coital domesticity, only fuels their fascination.

Michael, sensing your exhaustion, walks over to you with a plate of food. "Here you go, sweetheart," he says softly, placing the plate in front of you. "You need to eat something."

You smile up at him, your gratitude evident in your eyes. He smiles and sits down next to you, watching you with adoring eyes.

The maids watch this exchange with keen interest. "He’s so good to her," Susie whispers, a note of envy in her voice.

Diana rolls her eyes playfully. "Of course he is. You heard how he was talking to her. ‘You’re my good girl,’" she mimics, her voice dripping with mock lust. "He’s got her wrapped around his finger."

Annie, who has been silent for a while, finally speaks up. "You know, maybe we shouldn’t be talking about them like this. It’s kind of… invasive."

Diana rolls her eyes. "Oh my god, Annie. Live a little. They’re not gonna find out. Besides, it’s not like we’re hurting anyone."

They continue their tasks, though their eyes frequently stray back to the kitchen. The atmosphere is charged with a mix of lingering arousal and the thrill of having witnessed something so private. As they finish up in the living room and move to another part of the house, they can’t help but continue their whispered conversation. "So, we’re still following through with the plan?" Susie asks, her voice tinged with anticipation.

Diana grins. "mhm."

Annie shakes her head, though a small smile plays at her lips. "You two are crazy. But fine. Just this once more, we’re not doing it again."

The trio shares a conspiratorial laugh, their bond strengthened by their shared secret. As they go about their tasks, their minds are already anticipating the evening, eager to once again be a part of the passionate world they had stumbled upon.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, you finish your meal, your energy slowly returning. Michael sits next to you, his hand resting on your thigh, a silent reassurance of his presence.

You lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder. "Thank you," you murmur, your voice soft.

He presses a kiss to your temple. "Anything for you, baby. You know that."

As the day wears on, You both spend the day lounging around the house, basking in the simplicity of each other's company. The day has been a rare gift of leisure, a precious break from Michael's usually hectic schedule. The sun sets lazily, casting a warm glow over everything.

The trio finds themselves looking forward to the evening, their curiosity and desire rekindled. The thrill of the forbidden being too intoxicating to resist.

As the day winds down and evening settles in, the maids finish their duties and prepare to leave. Michael politely, walks them to the door. "Goodnight, ladies," he says with a charming smile.

"Goodnight, Mr. Jackson," they reply, trying to keep their voices steady. They share a quick glance, the events of the day still fresh in their minds, and attempt to leave casually. As the door shuts behind them they walk down the path they’d usually take to return home but they make a turn to the right, making their way towards the back of the house.

You are already in bed, lounging in a tank top and panties, the warm weather prompting you to kick the covers off playfully. The soft light of the setting sun filters through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room.

Michael steps into the bedroom, locking the door behind him, his gaze finding you instantly. You turn your head towards him and smile, your hand constantly reaching towards his direction, the sight of him filling you with warmth. He shakes his head teasingly as he pulls the covers back onto the bed.

"You always do this," he shakes his head, his voice filled with affection.

You watch him intently as he undresses, his movements slow and deliberate. He strips down to his boxers, revealing his toned physique, and you can’t help but feel a surge of desire. Your eyes are hungry, taking in every inch of his body which is draped in golden sun rays.

He slides into bed next to you, his presence comforting. He gently coos, "Are you feeling hot, baby?" His hand finds your hip, kneading it softly, feeling the soft, warm skin under his palm.

You nod, your eyes half-lidded with desire and mischief. Taking his hand, you guide it down between your legs, pressing his fingers harder against your clothed clit. "I am," you murmur, your voice barely a whisper, signaling where exactly you’re feeling hot.

He chuckles, a low, knowing sound. "You're insatiable," he teases, his fingers starting to move in slow, tantalizing circles. The fabric unsurprisingly dampening in an instant.

Your eyes flutter from the slight pressure and you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. "You love it," you counter with a small smile.

He smirks and admits, moving between your spread thighs, his fingers hooking under your panties and slowly pulling them off. He casually lets them fall on the floor as his eyes are immediately glued to your weeping cunt, already salivating at the view.

Meanwhile, in the backyard, the maids have been waiting, the anticipation building. Diana, ever the ringleader, whispers, "It’s time." They tiptoe towards your patio which is connected to your bedroom. They crouch down next to the glass doors, holding their breath as they try to peer inside without making their presence known. The house is quiet, the only sounds coming from within the intimate space you and Michael share. They inch closer, their breaths shallow and hearts pounding, the thrill of voyeurism electrifying their senses.

Inside the bedroom, the atmosphere is intimate and calm compared to the morning's intensity. Michael lays on his front, his face inches from your glistening pussy, still leaking with his cum from earlier. He bites his lip at the sight, the raw desire in his eyes making you shiver with anticipation.

He gently slides his middle finger into your hole, pushing his cum deeper inside you. "Look at you, so full of me," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. "Such a good girl, taking everything I give you."

You moan softly, the sensation of his finger inside you making your body hum with pleasure. He parts your glossy folds with his fingers, exposing your sensitive clit. Leaning in, he suckles on the bud, rolling it in his mouth with expert precision.

Peering through the glass, their eyes widen as they take in the sight before them. Michael is between your legs, his face buried in your pussy, his tongue working you with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Your eyes are shut tight, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he devours you. The soft glow from the bedside lamp casts a warm light over the scene, highlighting every intimate detail.

"God, seeing it is so much better than just listening," Susie whispers, her voice a mix of awe and arousal.

They press against each other, jostling quietly for the best view. Michael's focus is entirely on you, his eyes closed as he savors your taste, his tongue flicking over your clit with expert precision. The way he worships your body is mesmerizing, each movement filled with intent and passion.

Suddenly, Michael pulls away with a wet pop, your juices glistening on his lips and chin. You whine at the loss of contact, your body trembling with need. "Shh, baby," he soothes, replacing his tongue with his thumb, pressing it against your swollen clit and rubbing gentle circles.

The maids hold their breath, their eyes glued to the scene. Michael prods two fingers against your entrance, teasing you before slowly sliding them in. He breathes in deeply, savoring your scent as his fingers begin to scissor inside you, stretching your tight walls. His wedding band glistens, drenched in your slick, as he pumps his fingers in and out with a steady rhythm, the cold metal adding to the pleasure.

Susie, filled with envy and arousal, leans closer to Annie. "I've never seen a man eat pussy this good," she whispers, her voice tinged with longing. 

"He definitely knows where the clit is." Annie giggles and adds.

Diana, unable to contain her excitement, groans softly. "When is he going to take out his cock and fuck her?" she hisses, her eyes locked on the sight of Michael's fingers disappearing inside you.

Annie glares at her. "Oh, I'm sorry, is watching this not enough for you?" she snaps quietly.

Michael's fingers work their magic, the squelching noises filling the room as you whimper and buck your hips against his skilled hands. He watches you intently, his eyes dark with lust, enjoying the way you respond to his touch. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "My girl."

Your whimpers turn into moans, your body arching off the bed as he brings you closer to the edge. "Michael, please," you beg, your voice a breathy whisper.

He leans in, his breath hot against your skin, leaving hickeys along your inner thighs. "What is it, baby?" he asks, his thumb pressing harder against your clit.

"Wanna cum," you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.

He smirks, his fingers curling inside you to hit that sweet spot. "Then come for me, sweet girl," he whispers, his voice a low growl.

The maids watch in rapt attention, their own bodies reacting to the scene before them. Susie's cheeks are flushed, her breath quickening. "I can't believe we're actually seeing it this time," she whispers, her voice trembling with excitement.

"Look at how he handles her. It's like he knows exactly what she needs." Annie breathes, her eyes wide with awe.

Diana, her frustration mounting, shifts restlessly. "I want to see him fuck her," she insists, her voice a low whine. "Wanna see what his cock looks like."

Annie shoots her a sharp look. "Just be patient," she snaps. "Enjoy what we're seeing now."

Inside the room, Michael's fingers move faster, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your moans grow louder, your body trembling with the intensity of your impending orgasm. "I- I’m close" you cry out, your voice breaking with need.

"There there," he murmurs, his fingers never faltering. "Let go for me. Cum all over my fingers."

With a final flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, you shatter. Your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing with pleasure. Michael holds you through it, his mouth and fingers never ceasing their movements, prolonging your release until you are spent and trembling.

The maids are transfixed, their own arousal palpable. "y’all…" Susie whispers, her voice filled with need. "I didn't even know it was possible to cum that hard just from fingers."

Annie nods, her eyes still fixed on the scene before her. "He’s Michael Jackson, what did you expect," she murmurs. 

Diana, her eyes dark with lust, can barely contain herself. "I want to see more," she insists, her voice a desperate whisper.

As you come down from your high, panting, Michael gently withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips. "You taste so good," he purrs, his eyes locked on yours. You stretch weakly, your body still trembling. Michael licks his drenched fingers, savoring your taste as his eyes lock onto yours with a smoldering intensity. He leans in to give your clit a soft, lingering kiss, a gesture of tenderness. 

As he moves off the bed to take off his boxers, you whimper from the loss of contact, your body still trembling from the recent orgasm. You always become so clingy afterward, seeking his warmth and touch even if it's scorching hot outside.

“I’m right here, baby,” he coos gently, his voice soothing as he pulls down his boxers, freeing his throbbing cock. The maids, hidden just outside the glass doors, gasp in unison at the sight. Michael’s heavy shaft sways with his every move, a sight both impressive and intimidating.

“Goodness gracious, that thing is massive,” Diana whispers, her eyes wide with arousal.

The others nod, their mouths hanging open in shock. “No wonder she always looks so happy,” Susie murmurs. “It’s hard not to when your man’s packing like that.”

Annie notices Diana’s hazy expression, her eyes glued to Michael’s meaty cock as she licks her lips. Annie nudges her sharply. “Stop drooling, Diana.”

Susie giggles, trying to stifle the sound. “Yeah, you look like you just came.”

Diana shoots them a side-eye, irritated but unable to tear her gaze away from Michael as he strokes his meaty shaft, preparing himself. She unconsciously leans forward, hands pressing against the glass doors, her desire overriding her sense of caution. The door creaks in the silent room, a loud and unmistakable sound.

Annie, eyes wide with realization, hisses urgently, “Wait, no!”

But it’s too late. Packed together like sardines, when Diana pushes forward, the glass doors swing open, and they all tumble into the room with a loud, resounding thud. The sudden intrusion shatters the intimate atmosphere, and for a moment, time seems to freeze.

You gasp in horror, your eyes wide as you scramble to cover yourself. Michael’s head snaps around, his expression shifting from surprise to fury as he sees the maids he had just bid goodnight to, now sprawled awkwardly on the floor. They remain frozen, their eyes wide with horror at having been caught.

“Fuck,” Annie whispers, the word barely audible but carrying the weight of their collective dread.

Michael’s eyes blaze with anger, but his first instinct is to protect you. He immediately grabs the covers and drapes them over your body, shielding you from their prying eyes. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering, “Stay here.”

You try to argue, your voice trembling, “But Michael-”

He cuts you off with a commanding look, one you don’t often see, filled with authority and protectiveness. “I said stay,” he repeats firmly.

Nodding obediently, you clutch the sheets closer to your face, your heart pounding in your chest. Michael turns halfway, careful not to expose himself completely, and fixes the maids with a venomously calm stare.

“Wait in my office,” he orders, his tone cold and tolerating no argument.

The trio stares dumbly for a few seconds, processing his words before they scramble to their feet, tripping over themselves in their haste to leave. Broken apologies tumble from their lips as they run out of the room, their faces flushed with shame and embarrassment.

Once they’re gone, Michael turns back to you, his expression softening. “Are you okay?” he asks gently, his hands cupping your face.

You nod, though your heart is still racing. “I guess…I'm just shocked.”

“I’ll take care of this,” he promises, his voice filled with a protective resolve. He kisses your forehead again, then stands, pulling on his discarded boxers and trousers. “Stay here and try to relax, okay?”

You nod again, watching him as he leaves the room, your anxiety mixing with a strange sense of reassurance at his presence.

Michael leaves you in the bedroom, his heart heavy with both fury and a fierce protectiveness. As he walks down the hallway, the moonlight filters through the windows, casting long shadows and illuminating his path. Each step he takes echoes softly against the wooden floor, the sound mingling with the seething rage that burns within him. His fists clench and unclench at his sides, every muscle in his body taut with anger.

In the office, the maids are huddled together, in a state of panic, their faces filled with dread. They had thought themselves clever, sneaking around to watch, but now the reality of their actions is sinking in.

“Oh my god, we’re so screwed,” Susie whispers, wringing her hands nervously.

Annie turns to Diana. "This was all your idea!" she hisses, her voice trembling with fear.

Diana glares back, her own nerves frayed. "Oh, don't you dare put this all on me! You wanted this as much as I did!"

Susie, caught in the middle, raises her hands in a futile attempt to calm them. "Guys, please, this isn’t the time. We need to stick together."

The door swings open, and they all jump, turning to see Michael standing in the doorway, his expression a mask of controlled fury. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click that feels like the final nail in their coffin.

“Explain yourselves,” he demands, his voice low and dangerous.

The maids exchange panicked glances, none of them wanting to be the first to speak. Finally, Annie steps forward, her voice trembling. “We... we’re so sorry, Mr. Jackson. We didn’t mean to intrude. We just...”

“Just what?” he snaps, his patience fraying. 

Susie whispers, her voice barely audible, "We were just curious..."

Michael raises his brows, his eyes narrowing. "Curious? Curious?!”  he repeats, louder this time. The word hangs in the air, heavy with disdain.

He loses his cool for a moment, his voice rising as he yells, "Are you out of your fucking minds?!"

The maids shudder, their fear palpable. They are totally fucked, and they know it. “We’re truly so sorry,” Annie stammers, her voice breaking. “We never meant for this to happen.”

Michael’s expression remains hard, his eyes cold as ice. “You think an apology is enough? You think saying sorry will fix this? You’ve breached a level of trust that’s hard to come back from.” Michael’s eyes bore into each of them, his disappointment palpable.

Michael takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. “What gave you the brilliant idea to spy on us?”

There’s a heavy silence as none of them dare to speak. Michael’s patience wears thin. “I’m not going to repeat my question.”

Silence fills the room as the maids exchange terrified glances. Finally, Diana stutters, "We... we eavesdropped earlier this morning." Susie starts to tear up silently, her guilt and fear overwhelming her.

Michael breathes out heavily, the sound like a hiss through clenched teeth. "Sit," he commands, his tone brooking no argument.

They scramble to comply, their hands shaking as they take their seats. Michael retrieves a folder from the desk drawer, pulling out several documents and laying one in front of each of them with a pen.

"Sign," he says, the word clipped and devoid of any warmth.

Annie furrows her brows as she reads the document. It's a non-disclosure agreement. It hits her like a punch to the gut: he's making them sign NDAs to ensure they don't blabber about this to anyone, especially the press. Without reading through it, they all sign. Their hands shake so much that their signatures are barely legible. 

Michael retrieves the signed documents, his eyes never leaving theirs. He stares at them, his gaze hard and unforgiving. "Consider yourselves fired," he says, each word delivered with cutting precision.

The maids’ faces pale further, the reality of their actions hitting them like a sledgehammer. 

They swallow hard, nodding silently. Without needing further prompting, they rise from their seats and make their way out of the office, their footsteps heavy with the weight of their actions. As they exit the estate, the night air feels colder. As they walk down the long driveway and the gravity of their situation sinks in.

As they reach the gates, they look back at Neverland ranch one last time, the grandeur and beauty now a stark contrast to their current despair. They exit, their steps heavy and their minds filled with regret.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @leociinta @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @sirusxx @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson @moonuoi @iconsmjj

[thebluester2020]

Sdv Bachelors X super loud Farmer in bed?

SDV Bachelors x Loud Farmer (In Bed)

Summary: How SDV bachelors react to their usually quiet farmer being surprisingly loud in bed. Warning(s): SMUT, Slight degradation on Shane's part, Sebastion and Elliot being canon munches, Alex kinda gives “sex in cemetery before zombie apocalypse” vibes.

Side Note(s): I've always wondered where people would get those nsfw headers and I finally found the sauce as to where I get them. I'm literally over the moon right now.

Also, I'm in the firm belief that Alex is a gay man but for the sake of fairness. I'm including him in this 😔

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Elliot

Pleasantly surprised (and eager to hear your voice again).

Throughout y'all's relationship. Elliot knew you to be a very level-headed person, and it was hard to get an intense reaction out of you. Even when you two first kissed on a boat, you offered him nothing but the sight of faint dusting on your cheeks and you stuttering a little.

From then on, he naturally thought you'd be like that with everything! Including the bedroom.

Boy was he wrong, and he was more than happy to see how loud you could get.

♡ - "My...what was that, my dear?" He purred, looking up from between your thighs with a teasing glint in his eyes. As you steadily came out of your daze, trying to relive the last few moments, your cheeks suddenly burst into flames as you remembered the noise you just made. "N-Nothing," You said. "You were hearing things..." Elliot tilted his head with a teasing smile. He was no fool, and nor would he allow yourself to so easily disregard the noise you just made. A noise that nearly made him cum untouched within his pants as the sound played over and over and over again within' his head.

He had to hear it again.

Suddenly, his tongue flicked over your clit again, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat at the act. "Seems we'll have to set aside some time to teach your mouth to be as honest as your pussy, huh?" Without leaving you room to respond, his mouth quickly found your pussy again, lewd slurping noises leaving from between your thighs as he switched between tongue-fucking your sex and sucking on your clit.

Let's just say that Elliot managed to get more than a few more noises out of you that night...

Sebastion

Shocked.

See, you and Sebastion were similar in the quiet department. Personality wise at least.

He knew how you'd react to certain things because it was how he would react, and that dynamic made your relationship very smooth sailing. And like Elliot, he thought that personality would follow into the bedroom. So imagine his face when you let out an adorably loud moan.

It felt like all time stopped in that very moment, his thrusts stilling immediately as he looked down at you with wide eyes.

Oh, he was going to have so much more fun with you now that he knew that his spouse had a secret set of lungs in her.

♡ - He froze the second he heard it.

A breathy and needy little moan that left your kiss swollen lips from the heavy makeout session Sebastion and you had earlier.

There was no mistaking the noise he heard. As you slowly started to come down from your high, a disappointed yet quieter moan leaving your lips as you began to open your teary eyes to look down at him. The pout that appeared on your lips after made Sebastion's cock harden even more inside his shorts. "Sebby..." You whispered, breathlessly. "Why'd you stop...?"

"That noise you made..."

"Huh?"

"Do it again, I didn't know you could be so loud."

Your cheeks suddenly felt like they caught on fire as you quickly shifted your head to the side. "I-I don't know what you're talking about- Oh!" There it was again, this time thanks to the curling of Sebastion's skilled fingers inside your warm pussy rather than his surprisingly talented tongue. He began to wonder how many more times you would make that noise for him, how long you'd be able to make those noises from him until you were too fucked dumb in order to say anything else.

Sebastion then started to lightly nip at the insides of your thighs, gently calling your attention back to him as a smirk crawled onto his lips. "Y/N..." Sebastion whispered only for your ears to hear.

"How many more times can you make that cute noise~?"

Sam

Oh, he's blushing.

Before the two of you started dating, the only thing Sam knew about you was that you were the quiet and sweet-hearted farmer who was eager to help everyone. There weren't any rumors of you getting upset with anyone or raising your voice a single time!

And he loved it.

To the point where it developed into a perverted fantasy of his to hear you moan just once. That fantasy served as his favorite jerk-off material inside his head as he's creamed in his pants more than a few times because of it.

So, when you two started having sex with one another and he managed to get a loud whine from you?

He was hooked from there.

♡ - "Y/N?" Sam said to you, sweat dripping from his brow as his thrusts slowed. "What was that?"

You would've thought he was asking a mundane question about the weather with how innocent it sounded. As if he weren't just plowing into your cunt just a second ago. As you dazedly opened your eyes to look into his blue orbs, wide and practically gleaming with the eagerness of an over-excited dog. You slowly licked your top lick as you tried to find your words.

The only ones you could find were- "I-I don't know..." You panted.

Immediately, a frown came onto Sam's lips as he resumed his movements, his grip tightening on your love handles and thus restarting your loud moans bouncing off the walls.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" He questioned.

"You're making the noise right now! It's not good to lie..." Sam continued as he eyed your tits bouncing from underneath him, his cheeks somehow turning an even deeper shade of red as all he wanted to do was suck on them. But, he had an even bigger mission in front of him.

To make sure that you never hid your pretty moans again.

They were everything he had ever wanted to hear since he had developed a crush on you! To hear something different come from those pretty lips of yours that he fisted his cock to every other night since before you two started dating...now he finally had what he wanted, he couldn't just let you hide them and act like nothing happened!

"Fuuucckkk..." Sam moaned, drool dribbling out the side of his mouth as he relished in your pussy. Whiny 'aht aht ahts' leaving your lips as your cunt tightened around his dick.

"Don't ever hide your noises from me again babe~"

Alex

Not very surprised tbh.

Alex would've probably assumed there had to have been a crack under that quiet, seemingly "perfect" facade of yours. And before you two were dating, he was doing almost everything to find it.

Teasing you, trying to say certain words in order to fluster you and even being (respectfully) touchy with you via bumping into you and placing a hand on your arm from time to time.

Still, you didn't crack once.

He almost gave up until one fateful night when you were at the beach and he came across you. One meaningful talk later and you were somewhere in the forest against a tree and him behind you, pulling you onto his cock repeatedly like a man starved.

Safe to say, you were making noises then.

♡ - When you let out a whiney "Alex~!". He didn't stop even for a moment.

Oh no, he continued pistoning into your sloppy pussy as you struggled to hold yourself against a tree somewhere deep within Cindersap forest. Yet, all he could ever think about was how much he longed to hear those noises since the first moment you two met.

How many nights he spent in his bedroom imagining the shy farmer underneath him or on top of him as he fucked you until you scarcely remembered your own name. Now? It was finally a reality, and with more fire than his imagination could ever hope to recreate.

"Fuck yeah farmer," Alex smirked to himself as he grabbed your ass, using the grip his other hand had upon your hip to slam you further down his throbbing dick. "Bet you didn't even hear yourself, huh? I know you didn't." He continued to talk, not even caring if you were coherent enough to hear what he was saying as your moans only increased in pitch and frequency while your slick started to drip down the front of his thighs.

"'Cause if you did-" A drawn-out groan interrupted his line of speech as you suddenly clenched around him. A loud keening noise leaving your lips as his jaw dropped in shock at your squirt splashing against where you two were joined.

Oh, now he definitely needed to fuck you again.

"Fuck farmer, didn't know you were a squirter~" He smirked as he leaned forward a little to take your chin into his hand, shaking your head like you were a ragdoll to make you come to a little.

"H-Huh...?" You said dazedly.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your temple, a cocky laugh leaving his lips as his hips started to move again. "Don't worry farmer, we have all night to recreate those cute moans again...as well as you squirting on my dick again..."

Harvey

I think that he'd be blushing and would be just as embarrassed as you would be.

Harvey may be knowledgeable about female anatomy since he's a doctor but he's not experienced in personally having sex. I think that would make him think that he's not exactly 'good enough' to make the well-known quiet farmer let out a loud moan.

Once he managed to though (and did a quick check-in to make sure he didn't do anything wrong and it was actually pleasurable for you) he's definitely going to repeat the action over and over without fault.

Anything for his pretty spouse.

♡ - Harvey looked up at you like a confused little puppy when you made those noises, his brown eyes wide from shock and curiosity as he studied your facial expressions for a beat.

He didn't think this would ever happen.

He was content in your soft moans and quiet pleas for him to continue his ministrations whenever you two would become intimate. He never thought you would be loud in bed with him and he was fine with that! So long as you weren't in pain and you were enjoying him, he didn't need a louder moan or needier whine to spur him to continue.

But...he wouldn't deny that the absolute hunger that was in his name when you said it a little bit louder than usual. Your hand gripping his wrist in a need to try and ground yourself, the covers on the bed no longer seeming to do it for you. This moment...he could find himself becoming addicted to it easily. "Y-Y/N?" Harvey broke the silence as he moved up a little to better look into your eyes, to double-check to make sure you weren't in any pain.

"...Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, right?" He asked hesitantly as you slowly opened your eyes to look at him.

Your breath was fast but soft, almost like a rabbit's as you looked at him as if he hung the very moon and stars for you and you alone. "I-I'm fine..." You said, your eyes following him as he went back to his position between your thighs, his fingers slowly returning to his task as they grazed your pussy.

Your thighs twitched at the contact. "Why'd you stop...?" You asked, a little impatient. "Keep going."

Oh, he planned to.

"Sorry," Harvey said as he pressed a gentle kiss just a little under your navel as his fingers plunged into your pussy once more, curling just enough so that they rubbed against that sweet spot inside your cunt. Teasing but juuussttt enough to make you ache and crave for more, to make your pussy drip. "Just had to make sure you were okay." He continued as he finger-fucked you, his lips pressing against the inside of your thighs appreciatively as he listened to the needy squelching of your pussy.

He'd keep going, again and again and again.

So long as he got to hear more sounds from you.

Shane

Imma add in my two cents to the dom Shane crowd and say that Shane would be confident but in a less 'dude-bro' way. (like Alex)

He wouldn't be shocked. He's had a few one-night stands here and there, and would definitely know his way around. Man or woman.

So when you let out a symphony of pleasurable screams when he was rearranging your insides, your hands gripping onto your pillows for dear life. He didn't dare ease up or take a minute to let yourself notice that you were letting out such lewd noises.

He just kept on moving, silently committing each moan, whine, and scream to memory.

♡ - Your face was deep in your pillow when you let out a drawn-out scream as you came around Shane's dick. A creamy ring starting to form as Shane continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

He always knew you were capable of it, being louder and no longer abiding by that 'shy, quiet little farmer' title that the town liked to place on you. From the moment you talked to him when you were a few days into being in Pelican Town, a thought flashed through his mind that begged to know the answer to a question that plagued him for a while now...

Were you just as quiet in bed?

A fleeting question at first until he really started to take notice of your figure. Plush thighs and a soft stomach, a cute full face, and doe eyes, those features all serving to make his cock as hard as diamond as you became the face in his imagination when he jerked off at night.

Now that you two were dating, however...he no longer had to imagine or wonder.

He simply had to fuck you right and press the right buttons in order to get you to make the sounds that he desperately wanted to hear.

"Fuck Y/N..." Shane moaned as his grip tightened upon your ass, both fucking you faster and trying to control your squirming through your overstimulation. "Always knew that quiet shit was a fucking farce, you just needed to get fucked right, yeah? Cute lil' slut."

When you turned your head to look behind you with teary eyes, he sucked in a breath as a smirk came onto his lips. He'd take that as a 'yes' to his answer. "Fuuckkk...I'm right aren't I?" He said.

"Seems like I'm finally lucky in this town, eh? Cute farmer begging for the local drunk's dick. Bet this is why you started talking to me in the first place."

"N-No...." You said with a dumb smile coming onto your lips after. "O-Only you..."

"Eh? You only talked to me for me?" He leaned down as he said that, hiding his pinkening cheeks via tucking his face into your neck, excusing his actions by sucking hickeys onto your skin. "Cute."

"Almost makin' me want to go easy your ass." Immediately, he contradicted his words as his thrusts sped up. His groans and grunts began to shift into quick yet deep gasps as he felt his orgasm approaching. "...Not that I will, we still have allll night~"

Bonus! Mr. Qi

He's very playful when you let out a noise you or him didn't think you were capable of making.

He'll tease you and question why you didn't make such a sound earlier. The quiet and sweet farmer? Not making a sound, even though he didn't fully believe that himself, he wouldn't deny that he was in the process of doing so seeing as it really seemed that way from your past sexual encounters!

But, when his cock finally pressed against the right spot against your twitching walls?

He definitely wasn't going to let you live that down, he's talking your ear off the entire time as you're losing your voice over his dick.

♡ - "Ohoho...care to make that noise again farmer~?"

Of all the explorations he's been on all the secrets and mysteries he's unraveled within this valley and beyond...his favorite and most enjoyable journey has been with you. Even when you first arrived to the valley, talk of the late farmer's quiet grandchild spreading like wildfire, he was interested in you!

You challenged yourself and had morals he could get behind.

He didn't even realize he was taking a more...intimate interest in you until you happened upon him one day and he saw you in the flesh for the first time, your cute body and shy demeanor captivating him similarly to a drug.

And now...now that he has you underneath him, pressing your hands against his chest in an attempt to ground yourself as his cock rubbed deliciously against your walls. He was most definitely hooked, even more so now that he has unraveled yet another mystery.

The mystery of whether or not you were capable of being loud in bed or not.

Qi pressed a kiss to your cheek as he pressed your legs further down, your knees nearly touching your ears as the blue-skinned man fucked you in a tight mating press. "I knew there had to be something lewd under that delicate appearance you tried to maintain," He whispered in your ear, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Though, not very fair of you farmer to keep it hidden away from me for so long!" He chuckled when you cracked open your eyes, your vision dazed and blurry from your tears as you heard nothing but white noise in your ears.

Not that he minded much, he'd have all the time in the world to recount your cute voice to you later...

[frmisnow]

✧˖ ?! — JUNGKOOK WHO LOVES YOU (HEADCANONS / F + LIGHT S)

summary. ain't nobody does loving better than jeon jungkook! .. in one way and the other! (hcs)

notes. one of the exams i feared the most is OVER and i've never been happier!! y'all know the drill timeline: mae depressed ⟶ mae stressed ⟶ mae done w exam ⟶ mae writes some sorta kook comfort!! 🧚🏻‍♀️ also this is kind of for @hoseoksluna since i felt like she needed smth to cheer her up (also i know how you've been struggling w writing jungkook since berries so i wanted to show u kook the way i see him), i hope you all enjoy! much love ୨୧

warnings/includes. non idol? jungkook x non specified! reader (tits + tit sucking mentioned once though), making out mentioned, most of these are sfw!! the last three are nsfw!, overall just love

— loving! jungkook who always had to have one of his hands on you in some typa way. he wasn't even doing it on purpose at least that's what he swore, but deep down he knew that having his fingers linger on your waist or back, made him feel weirdly prideful in public. it sounded unusual but activally being reminded that he had somebody like you right by his side, made him feel safe.

— loving! jungkook who likes just listening to you. i swear, jungkook is the biggest yapper you know but when you start talking about your day or whatever was on your mind, he just completely shut it. and you bet your ass: he's sitting there with the biggest boba eyes, ears pecked and lips sealed.

— loving! jungkook who is the most stubborn mf out there but struggles to be mad at you for over a day. he's just so used to having you around him that whenever your sheer presence isn't there, he feels that little hurtful twing in his heart. and he always comes to the conclusion that no matter how mad he was or what you said, he does never want to be without you. so he'll come back acting like nothing happened, maybe a little pout on his face but arms wide open.

— loving! jungkook who sometimes just... looks at you. he'll randomly pause whatever action he was doing, no matter if you were beginning to doze of in bed or if the two of you were eating, just to stare at you. and weirdly enough his staring was never uncomfortable, it was astonishing what a single one of his looks could communicate, so much admiration and love radiating solely from his eyes.

— loving! jungkook whose love language is quite literally everything, from physical touch to gift giving to words of affirmation, i'm telling you- when that man is in love: he goes all in!

— loving! jungkook who's just... random, like you could be chilling on the coach on a regular thursday and he'd be like "let's get matching tattoos!" if your his significant other, you should be ready for anything and everything!

— loving! jungkook who's lockscreen is a photo of you smiling (the other one is a polaroid of you and bam he took himself) and the more you notice him opening his phone, the more you see him grin like a dork at the screen. that man is SMITTEN.

— loving! jungkook who most likes those calm days when it's already half past 11am and you're still in bed, running your hands through his hair as his head lies on your chest, listening to the small yet ever so important sound of your heart pumping blood.

— loving! jungkook, who on a different note, fucking loves your tits. it doesn't even have to be necessarly sexual, he just likes holding them but then again- how much he loves sucking on them till dark hickeys cover your whole chest

— loving! jungkook who yaps even while fucking. i swear, he talks so much! from incredibly gentle sweet nothings to how cockdrunk and fucked up you looked right now

— loving! jungkook who just loves making out, it doesn't have to lead to anything, he just likes the feeling of his mouth on your skin, everywhere, all around, all at once

— loving! jungkook who loves nothing more and nothing less than every single version of you.

[phoebepheebsphibs]

I hate that I cannot do a certain really cool animation project that I was working on

And it was gonna be kinda like REALLY COOL with music and voice acting and everything and I was really proud of it

It was part of an update for a series of sketches I was doing on Twitter (maybe a few of y'all will know what specifically I'm referring to but who knows)

And I wanted it to be this big grand surprise and I was doing my gosh darndest to hide from Twitter the fact that I was an animator because I wanted it to be a huge plot twist like "guess what lads! you thought it was just sketches? nah nah. have a FULLY ANIMATED SHORT OF MICHELANGELO FREAKING OUT!"

But.

It has been... um... quite some time since then

So uhhh while I still want the animation as a whole to be surprise, here are a few clips that I'm stupid proud of...

@filsa-mek here ya go

For those of you who would like to know what this is about, please go read Empathy Amplified on Archive of Our Own (specifically chapters 8-9 to understand the animations)

Please don't repost my animations.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Could you please do 14 with art from the comfort prompts? Maybe handjobs while he has his back to the reader if things get spicy 🤭🤭

Anyways, your fics never fail to amaze me! Always look forward to reading them💗💗

I'm getting the sense y'all would like me to write #14 from the comfort prompts with Art Donaldson 🤔

Also thanks, nonnies!!

Warnings: Fluff, handyj's, subby Art Donaldson, praise kink, smattering of dirty talk, established relationship

"In here!" You called out. You listened as Art's footsteps grew closer, and your brows furrowed as you heard him slow just outside.

"It's okay, you can open the door."

Art seemed a little perplexed by how dim the bathroom was, but as he spotted the candles you'd put around your jacuzzi tub and the glass of wine on the side table, it all seemed to fall into place.

"How was your—What are you doing?" You laughed as Art began to strip off.

"What does it look like?"

Your eyes drifted down over his muscled chest, lip drawing between your teeth as he shoved his pants and underwear down around his ankles before kicking them off. You grinned, scooching back against the tub as Art climbed in in front of you. He groaned as he settled in, cradled against you.

"Comfortable?" You teased, brushing your lips against his temple.

"Very."

You curled your arms around his shoulders, closing your eyes as you savored the peace of his body pressed against yours.

"How was practice?"

The question hung in the air for a few moments. Art shifted a little, raising his hands and trailing gently over your bent knees.

"...Art?" You pressed.

"I don't wanna talk about practice."

It wasn't the answer you were hoping for. It wasn't Art's first career slump, likely wouldn't be the last—but you knew better than to remind him of that.

"I wanna talk about you," He added, tipping his head back to get a look at you. "Feel like I've barely seen you the last few days."

"We've been busy."

He craned his neck, pressing a kiss to your jaw. "Tell me about your day."

"It was fine, boring. The usual."

"What's the usual?"

"Art."

"Please?" He urged again, taking your hands in his and intertwining your fingers. He raised one to his lips before resting it over his heart. "I've missed your voice."

You smiled as he snuggled closer, the water swirling around the two of you.

"Well...I woke up around seven. You'd already left, obviously."

"Mm."

"I had breakfast, got dressed, sat down at my desk and worked all day."

"You stop for lunch at least?"

"I didn't have time."

"Baby."

"I know, I know," You sighed. "Things just kept coming up and before I knew it, it was 6:30."

"Explains the wine."

"Yes it does." You untangled one of your hands to reach up, gently combing through his hair. "Want some?"

"Not right now."

"...You're too wound up, you know."

Art sighed heavily, head flopping back against your shoulder again. You took in his closed eyes, his slightly pinched expression.

"You are," You insisted, lowering your hand from his hair. You trailed your nails over his shoulder, down past your joined hands on his chest. "I know you need something to get you going on the court, but having your gut all tight like this makes you all..." You slid your hand beneath the water, trailing along his inner thigh. "Stiff. And not in the fun way."

Art smiled, huffing a laugh. "Is that so?"

"Mhm. You need to relax."

"Any suggestions on how I might do that?"

"Well, I'm no tennis coach..." You curled your fingers around his shaft, smiling as he pulled a stunned breath in. "So my ideas may be a little...Rudimentary."

You stroked him gently, shushing him softly as he whined, pushing up into your touch. You grasped him a little more firmly, moving in long, even strokes as you felt him hardening in your touch. Art turned his head, mouthing at your jaw and neck, anything that he could reach.

"That's it," You murmured, watching a blush spread across his neck as you swiped your thumb across the head of his cock. "Fuck, you're so beautiful Art." You twisted your wrist as he whimpered, and bit your lip as his teeth grazed your skin. "You've been working so hard...You just need someone to take care of you a little, hmm?"

The water sloshed around your legs as Art's hips rolled up into your hand. You could feel his hot breath pushing against your neck, his tongue flickering out to catch a droplet of sweat sliding down your skin.

You were so hot, so slick as his skin shifted and almost seemed to stick against yours. His legs knocked against yours as he reached down, curling his fingers around your forearm. You watched his hips judder, his back arching as he spilled across his abs. You smiled, smearing it into his skin as he sagged back against you. His heart pounded beneath your joined hands, his thumb skating along yours.

"We should get out of the tub," He mumbled.

"Because we're going to get pruney and we're sitting in jizz water?"

Art laughed, tipping his head back to nip at your jaw.

"And because I'd like to return the favor."

[howi99]

Ruby: So, i know you helped Jaune during initiation and-

Pyrrha: What? I didn't help him at all. I unlocked his semblance, sure, but he wasn't struggling. In fact, and i know it's sound stupid, but it's was mostly Jaune who was dispatching the Grimm.

Weiss: *looking at Jaune happily talking about his family with a goofy face* Him? Really?

Pyrrha: I know it sounds impossible but... He was acting... Weird. Like he took joy in killing them.

Ruby: Well, duh, what else are you supposed to feel when exterminating the grimm?

Pyrrha: Oh, i can understand having pride in your skill, but... *Looking at Jaune* he seemed to enjoy ripping them apart. Violently. He was smiling while doing so.

Weiss: But he can't lift a finger against his own bully!

Ruby: Yeah, Jaune's a big teddy bear!

Pyrrha: Oh, don't take it as me saying he's a bad guy, Jaune is probably the gentlest man i know. But the way he fights is... Unhinged.

____________

Nora: Think of Cardin as a beowolf!

Jaune: I prefer not, i tend to get... Carried away when i fight for real. *Blushing a bit* Y'all know i'm strong, and as someone strong, it is my duty to protect those who are weaker than me.

Yang: I'd be able to kick your ass!

Jaune: *shaking his head* Not what i meant. I can rip the head of a ursa with a single swing of a lance.

Yang: ... And?

Jaune: The blunt side of a lance. And when i fight, i... Can't really control myself. I love fighting.

Nora: Aw, don't worry Jaune Jaune, i love fighting too!

Jaune: *sad smile* No, you don't Nora. And that makes you a good person. *Getting up* I wish no one like fighting as i do. *Leave*

Yang: ... That was weird.

Nora: Yeah... I hope he's okay.

[howlingday]

Close For Discomfort

A Knightfall Parody

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

Jaune: (In bed, Stretches) Morning, babe~.

Cinder: (Yawns) Morning, blue eyes~.

Salem: (Nude) Speaking of blue eyes, I'm making blueberry pancakes! Y'all want any?

Jaune: AGH! Grandma! For Brother's sakes, put on some clothes! Please!

Salem: Clothes ruin my morning flow! You know that! Now, you want blueberry or chocolate chip? (Walking away) Because spoiler alert, the chocolate chips are HELLA PACKED with THC!

Jaune: ...

Cinder: We need to move out.

Jaune: What?!

Cinder: NOW!

Jaune: Wh- I- B- Cindy, we've got free room and board, a literal castle with protection from Grimm attacks and... all the pancakes we could ever want~!

Cinder: Wonderful, but do you have any idea how obnoxious your grandmother has gotten since we started dating? THREE YEARS AGO?

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

Cinder: (Doing laundry, Rolls eyes at Salem's "Death To All Faunus" shirt)

Cinder: (Turns over, Sees "And Humans, Too") Oh... That's... better?

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

Cinder: And then there was my birthday last month.

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

Everyone: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOU~!

Ruby: Happy birthday, Cinder~!

Cinder: Thank you, Re- Er, Ruby.

Salem: Time for presents~! (Hands over gift) Here you go, Cindy~!

Cinder: (Flatly) Oh, good, I wonder what this is- Oh, look, it's a crotchless panties and a nippleless bra. Who would've guessed?

Jaune: Hey, I remember those! I wonder if mine still fit...

Cinder: ...

Ruby: ...

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

Cinder: And that's NOTHING compared to the bullshit she pulled last week!

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

Cinder: (On Jaune, Drags fingers down chest)

Jaune: (Saucily chuckles, Rubs arm)

Cinder: (Leans down, Stops) Is that a fucking camera?!

Salem: (Distant) STOP BREAKING THE SCENE!

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

Jaune: (Holding "Grimm Pictures Presents: Fallen Knights of Passion " CD) In her defense, the production value on this was... incredible~!

Cinder: (Takes CD, Melts it)

Jaune: AW~! I was really good in that one...

Cinder: Yes, you were. Not the point!

Jaune: Mm... I'm not sure how we'd move in the first place. Can't exactly just buy a house as "enemies of humanity".

Cinder: Well, who's to say we have to buy or rent anything? I'm sure we could easily steal a house on the shore.

Jaune: Cinder! You promised!

Cinder: I'm kidding! I'm kidding! ...Mostly.

Jaune: What about Ruby? I'm sure she could vouch for us now that Salem's gone straight.

Cinder: We could... but I don't think she'd be interested in anything I have to say...

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

Ruby: Cinder, what the fuck?!

Cinder: (Via scroll) You asked, I delivered.

Ruby: I asked for Sonic merch for my birthday, not for you to kidnap another Sonic character!

Big: I'm Big~!

Ruby: He's Big! ...Wait, is that your name?

Big: Yuh-huh~!

Cinder: Well, I'm glad you're enjoying him~.

Ruby: STOP DROPPING FURRIES ON MY DOORSTEP!

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

Jaune: Hm... Well, we could always ask for a trial by combat. I'm already good friends with most huntsmen, so all I'd have to do is ask for the next availability. Not to mention they also pay huge, and we're probably going to win anyways because the only people who could beat either of us that aren't our friends are dead! Oh, I made myself feel bad.

Cinder: And this "next availability" would be when?

Jaune: Let's see, according to the schedule, it is... SIX YEARS?!

Cinder: Fuck that! You need a job!

Jaune: Also gonna be hard since I'm blacklisted as a huntsman and my resume aside from that is just... kid who's related to the woman who tried to wipe out humanity.

Cinder: I don't have a formal education, either. The only thing I learned growing up was the best ways to kill a woman and how to scrub week-old cum off decades-old wood.

Salem: (Pops in) Oh, now that takes me back~...

Cinder: (Hurls fireball) EAT SHIT, YOU OLD HAG!

Salem: (Walks downstairs) Oh, you know I was talking about dick...

Cinder: ...GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE.

Jaune: Okay, okay! Uh... We could do manual labor! I've been training to fight the Grimm since I was a teenager, so I can still do other work that requires muscle! We could probably build our own house and a whole neighborhood in, like, a week!

Cinder: I... I don't think I could be doing any physical labor.

Jaune: Why not? You pick ME up and toss me into bed real easy when you're feeling frisky. (Come hithers)

Cinder: (Sighs) That's not what I mean.

Jaune: I know, but I mean... I think you'd be great at it! You're smart, you're driven, you're WAY stronger than me without your maiden powers, and you're-

Cinder: PREGNANT~!

Jaune: ...Wha?

Cinder: And, yeah, I know I can still work, but I think it's really awkward to tell your boss, "Hey, I know I just started, but I'm going to need maternity leave really soon!" It just seems like a clusterfu-

Jaune: (Grabs her) You're pregnant?!

Cinder: Yeah... It's why I didn't ask for any chocolate chips.

Jaune: How... How long?

Cinder: Pregnant? About a month, but I only found out a few days ago! I didn't know how to tell you. We have something good already and everything just sort of happened and I have no idea what happens next or even if you want to-

Jaune: Cinder! (Takes her hands) You... You have made me the happiest man in the entire world. No one has ever made me feel this happy before, except you, and you somehow just keep making me happier.

Cinder: (Eyes watering)

Jaune: I... I love you. And I love our baby.

Cinder: (Hugs him) I love you, too~!

Salem: (Leaning against the wall) So, how much longer until your belly gets bigger? It's been a few centuries since my time, so I'm not sure what the standard is now. And I'd like to know before the next video.

Cinder: If our baby is a girl and we're not out of this house by the time she hits puberty, I WILL murder Salem!

Salem: Tch! Good luck! (Slurps pancake)

[nescaveckwriter]

Hey, lovely! 🥰

So I'll put the request here too to make it easier for you to answer: can I request a fic from you where Dean falls asleep on Y/N's shoulder when they're hanging out with her family like that dream I told you about 🥹 something sweet and fluffy, and maybe she'll later tease Dean, but just a little 😆🤭

Love you and thank you! 🤍☀️

❤️. Awww @k-slla 🐞... I really hope this is what you had in mind, Oh goodness 🤭 its such a cute request 🥰 and I love you too 💕... Also I'm going to tag @artyandink for my first post on the #Jensenathon and then @anyfandomgoesbingo for my fist square ('Game Night, will be in bold') 🤭🥰 hopefully y'all like this . 🥰🤭🐞

Warnings: I'm going to say 18+ only ya know just for precaution 😅 but honestly there's none, just fluffy and sweetness.

Words: 1015

A little fun !! 🤭❤️❤️

He's hand runs over his freckled face, it's been a rough couple of days, he's been struggling more to sleep, than in a while, everything weighing so heavily on his shoulders, so when I came running towards him, big smile plastered on my face, almost excitedly jumping up and down, like a two year old, "Dean! Babe?" His green eyes stare into mine, and I feel butterflies swirling around again, "Sweetheart? Don't you seem all excited!" 

Laughing "I am, it's been awhile since we had a fun time" giving him a Bambi-like glaze "so, my parents invited us to Game night, please can we go?" 

He couldn't keep the smile from tugging at the corners of his perfect plum lips, "That sounds like fun sweetheart"

 "Really?" I yelped.

He pulls me into one of those breath stopping hugs, tugging his head into the crook of my neck , the hot air of his breath tickling against my skin , while he whispers "your the only bit of light in this world you know that?" I just hugged him back, unsure how to reply, the emotion welling up in my eyes, so instead of saying a single word, I held him tight, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, just lightly running my fingers, in his hair. I'm not sure how long we held each other in that heartfelt embrace but without saying a single word, it spoke of love, trust, peace, maybe the only sense of peace we had in our lives.

Blasting the radio loudly, playing Dean's favourite Led Zeppelin songs, on the drive over to my parents house, we got out, in a quite cheerful mood, well I could still see the heaviness in those emerald green orbs of his, but I made a quick promise to myself that, I'll do anything in my power, to make sure he has a little fun and relaxes a bit. So without further due, I grabbed his hand, which in return he held the beer and some of the snacks. We rang the doorbell and got welcomed as if we were long lost. We walked in and the living room, spoke of fun with the board games all stacked up, there was wine, and beer, finger foods, it spelled laughter and fun.

 As the night got started and we were teamed up together we laughed and shared stories throughout the games. When Dean ate all the pie and some other snacks, me and my mom went into the kitchen, to get some more snacks. When she smiled looked at me and said, "Sweetie,you look so happy are you?" 

My eyes glistened, "Mom! I'm not happy, I'm overjoyed, I simply adore Dean, I love him more than anything in this world" soft tears rolled down my mom's cheeks, "Sweetie I'm so happy for you, he looks like a good man" I nod, "He is mom, he has his problems but when it comes to me, he treats me like a queen". And with that we walked back to where Dean and the rest of my family were sitting. He gave me that smirk, of his, the one that made my knees weak, and I smile back, he pats the seat next to him, and I gladly obliged, he placed a sweet kiss on my cheek, I placed my hand on his thigh, giving him a slight squeeze, after my father cleared his throat he said we should maybe play a card game, and so we started.

The rest of the night was filled with laughter, an accusation of cheating every now and again, but it was all playful, and light hearted fun, and as the night went on, everyone taking turns, when it came to Dean's turn, I felt his head resting on my shoulder, and when I looked down, I saw his eyes were closed, the man fell asleep in the middle of room filled with people. I didn't have the heart to wake him up, or even stir a little, so I took the beer out of his hand, and the left over cards and sat it down with mine, mouthing to my parents that we are done playing for the night so I just watched them play further on, until one for one got up and either went home or to bed, leaving me and Dean in the living room, his head still on my shoulder. It didn't take long for my eyelids to fall close, my head gently rested against him.

The night turned into early morning sunrays lighting up the room, my eyes fluttering open only to be met by his forest green orbs, his voice gruffly "Sweetheart when.. what... How?" Smiling, I look at him, my own voice a little croaky from the sleep, "No! Apparently we're so boring and not good company at all, you fell asleep while we were playing cards" 

Dean looked shocked and ashamed "Sweetheart it's not that, it's, I'm so sorry okay, I don't..." I pressed a finger on his lips , "Shhh, babe I'm joking, I know you were tired" A smile tugs at his plum lips, "really you had to make me feel bad didn't you?" Shrugging my shoulders, chuckling a bit "I couldn't help myself, sorry my love" he looks at me as if he's looking into soul, "I love you, you know that right?" Nodding about to answer but before I could, he's lips crashed against mine in a searing kiss, his fingers tangled in my hair, I couldn't hold the small moan escaping my lips, the grin on Dean's lips was unmistakable, he shifted slightly, gently guiding me to lay on the couch, I giggled, whispering "My parents'' pressing his finger against my lips, "shhh sweetheart, we don't want to wake them up do we?" with that he captures my lips in a passionate kiss, after a little while, he pulls back, hoarsely whispers "I like game night!"  planting yet another kiss, in that moment I knew, I Will always love this green eyed man, even if he falls asleep mid family events.

@jackles010378 @winchesterwild78 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @bookishtheaterlover7 @cutedisneygrl

[heavenlymorals]

Hi! I really enjoy your posts and I was hoping to see if you can answer this question for me. I want to write an Arthur x reader fic, but I want to try writing a more canon Arthur instead of a fanon Arthur. So if you're able to, what do you think Arthur would be like as husband or partner? Thank you! 🩵🩵

Arthur as a Husband (Arthur x Fem! Reader)

Thank you so much ❤️ I'm glad you like my posts, that makes me happy ❤️❤️

And boy, that's kinda a loaded question considering how vast the Arthur x Reader side of the fandom is, so this might be a bit controversial but here we go:

Also, these are all of my thoughts based on my past posts on Arthur. None of them are actually canon as far as I know nor am I presenting them to be canon. These are all just my thoughts based on what I've noticed in the game.

I genuinely think that Arthur would be a great husband BUT he'd be a great husband in the context of the 1800s.

He would never lay his hands on you. He would never disrespect you. Any man try to do anything to you, Arthur would go ballistic. He'd always defend his wife from disrespect. He would always carry your luggage. He would always be a gentleman and assist you in getting on a horse or a wagon. He'd make sure you're comfortable in any way he can. He would never want you to over exert yourself. He would love you to the point of devotion and given how his devotion works for the gang, it'd be priceless. He'd make sure to treat you to the fullest on every date. He'd want to impress you. He would love you most ardently and most fully. If he had sons, he'd make sure to always set a good example on how men should treat their wives/partners.

Very sweet, I know, but again- this is in the context of the 1800s.

I think Arthur, give his attitudes regarding gender roles, would be suited with a woman who believes in the same thing, which given the time period wasn't rare.

Arthur would protect, provide, and do all the traditional things that men were expected to do and he'd do them well enough to where you would never have to worry about things like money, protection, or him taking care of you and honoring you. He'd love you to devotion.

But where he'd do a man's duty, he'd expect you to do the woman's duty, and just how he'd love you to devotion, he'd expect the same. He would never let you do "men's work" if he can help it, unless y'all are living in a super tough environment where you would need to help him here and there, but he'd still do the vast majority of the hard work, and he'd expect a clean place to live, food, and all that domestic stuff from you. If the both of you are able to connect with that dynamic, than Arthur would honestly be a phenomenal husband. He'd be the model husband in the traditional relationship.

I also think respect would be a big thing too. You'd probably both tease each other and love it, but there has to be respect and understanding otherwise he would go off. Note how quick he was able to go off and raise his voice at Mary when she started disrespecting his life style yet chooses to want to use the skills he attained from that lifestyle to help her with her father. He also does it in public where everyone could hear and he only stops when he sees that it was deeply distressing to Mary after she asks him to be kind to her. I realized pretty quick that Arthur is not as patient or pacified as John when Abigail chews into him.

However, I also think he'd be very understanding and open minded to you if you seriously want to talk to him. Communication would be key between both of you and he'd try to understand your thoughts as best as he can and try to make you happy if he could, but again, he'd also expect the same of you.

It's a two way street in different ways. That's the best way I can put it. He'd love you to devotion, given that both of you are comfortable and happy with that traditional dynamic. Arthur would protect you, provide for you, make sure you are always comfortable and never destitute, and in return, he'd expect you to be there for him.

Hope you enjoyed that ❤️ And again, these are just my thoughts based on what I've noticed in canon. Happy writing! ❤️❤️❤️

[chelleztjs18]

The Monsters Within (N.R) Pt. 5

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!SerialKiller!Reader (Modern AU)

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Summary: You like Natasha and you keep her to yourself.

Warning: This is a Dark Fic. 18+, a lot of swearing words. Graphic and gore descriptions, kidnapping, mind manipulating / brainwashing, blood, death, violence, bone crushing, Stockholm Syndrome and angst (Let me know if I miss anything)

A/N: Hello hello peeps. I'm back for a bit from my sad depressed isolations. I almost not to post this today because something happened and got me down again but I promised to post it today, so here you go! The last and final part of this dark mini series. There is a some angst if squint. Thank you to my Curious George anon for motivating me to write and helping me brainstorming and even writing some parts in it! Y'all can thank her for this chapter. hahaha. Also thank you @honey-sweet-hiraeth for the base of the idea in this chapter. Well, enjoy and happy reading!

It has been a few months since the night Natasha accepted her inner monster. Wanda is dead and she is just part of your memory in the back of your head. You are living your life now with your redhead girlfriend. Not just as happy lovebirds but as a couple who loves taking the lives of others.

After Natasha killed Wanda furiously, a thirst sprung and she slowly started getting into it. You never knew that you would find your perfect match ever. Natasha is a great girlfriend. Loving, gentle and sweet person to you but sinister and dark at the same time which makes you fall for her even more.

Her smile and laugh always look beautiful but my oh my, it even looks ethereal when she does it with some splashes of your victims’ blood and when she looks like she is having fun dismembering them limb by limb. It’s one of your favorite parts besides smelling her perfume that’s mixed with the iron scents of the blood puddle dancing around in the air with the acid smell on your hunting night. Well, that’s what Natasha wants to call it every time both of you go out for the night, killing.

Natasha can’t control her blood thirst and the more she feels the rush from killing the bigger the urge to do some more. You love it so much but sometimes you have to remind her that both of you need to slow down so you won’t grab more police’s attention even though they start to not be able to keep up due to no trace being left behind.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I love killing as much as you do but we have to be careful. I just want us to be more cautious” You explained patiently.

“I know, babe. Fuck, but it feels so good when I feel the knives taking their lives and cut them apart.” she expresses her thoughts in a sinister giggle as both of you put the last body parts into the bathtub.

“Oh yeah, I know what you meant dear. Don’t forget that cracking sound when the grinder grinds the bones and how it looks when the acid burns their flesh.” you added in agreement casually having the disturbing details like it’s a normal daily conversation while pouring all the acid onto the dismembered innocent.

“Oh don’t even start it, you are teasing me right now. You're just making me want to kill more, you know that right?” she complains in a playful nagging tone.

“Look at you, craving to kill some more. I turned you into a monster, didn’t I?” You smile, looking at her as your hand wipes a smudge of blood off her cheek.

“Well, someone said that everybody is a monster in their own way.” she replies in a teasing tone as she kisses your neck that has some splashes of blood on it, gets the taste of it off her lips then smirk at you.

“How about we meet in the middle as a solution?” She offers you a negotiation with her puppy dog eyes begging expression.

“How?” you ask curiously. You know you couldn’t resist her whenever she begs you with that look even though she is under your control. You’ll do anything for her. If Natasha wants the moon, she’ll watch you grab it for her. If she wants the head of the victim, you’ll watch her cut the head off their throat. That’s how much you love Natasha. 

_____

Since then, you and Natasha agreed on something which you can’t lie that it was actually a good idea.

Being the sweetheart she is, Natasha proposes the idea to change your targets to kill criminals especially perverted men instead of helpless women. Every now and then you still kill women you find out there but Natasha always insists on doing the whole process by herself due to her jealousy issue. She hates it when she sees you touch other women even though they are all lifeless and that’s how much Natasha loves you.

A year later after the changes of your targets, it has been leading the police to different tracks and make them think that there is another serial killer who roams free in town. The people are now divided on two sides when it comes to the talk about this so-called controversy theory. Some people take sides to both of you and call you “The Punishers” and some of course still are against you no matter who the victims are even if they deserve it.

With all that, everything changes. Your life has been okay. Natasha gets more attached to you, like a lost clingy puppy. The hunting and killing night has become an easy routine for you and Natasha. Too easy.

_____

The night is getting quieter as the time gets later. The wind blows a soft whistling sound and you see some stars sparkle in the sky shortly before you and Natasha walk into your house after a quick hunting night.

The mess in your house now shocks you and Natasha. You instantly think that someone has broken into your house. You look around and find your glass coffee table is now shattered. Stuff is scattered around. Your tall bookshelf has fallen and your books are all over the floor.

You and Natasha look at each other, puzzled and wondering what had happened. Your hand gesture instructed her to stay quiet. Both of you look around and tip toe. Natasha taps your shoulder rapidly to drag your attention to now unconscious James on the kitchen floor, with his hands tied up behind his back and his ankles tied as well.

Both of you halt your steps as soon as you hear something in the kitchen then a figure of a woman gets into your sight. You don’t recognize her from her back but as soon as the woman turns around, you hear Natasha’s soft surprised gasp.

“Oh Hi!!” She greets both of you. You recognize her, so does Natasha of course.

“Ye-yelena! You are alive!” Natasha exclaims in excitement and gratefully. As soon as she is about to run to her blonde long missing sister, your protective instinct takes control and you grab Natasha’s hand to stop her and she obliges.

Deep down both of you are worried if Yelena found the basement and things under there. You remember that you still have one victim from last night that you haven’t taken care of. As luck would have it, you locked the other door. You clench your jaw as you watch every move Yelena makes so you can be prepared for the worst. As nervous as Natasha is of her sister finding who she is now, she misses her and beyond happy that Yelena is back.

“Yeah, of course I’m alive.” She paused a few seconds then looked at you before she continued. “You guys have a lot of freaky things in your basement.” Your stomach turns after you hear her statement.

“What’s behind the lock door? Dead body or something?” Your heart races especially after she looks at you followed by her sarcastic question. Natasha swallows hard. With a bowl of mac and cheese in her hand, Yelena casually walks to the dining chair next to the knocked out James to sit.

You are enraged seeing what she did to him. Yelena takes notice that you look at him. She puts one of her feet on James and nonchalantly says while chewing her mac and cheese “Relax, he is still alive but I don’t know what to do with him so I gotta tie him up before he wakes up.”

Seeing her boot steps on the side of James’ face really fumed you and your hand slowly grabbed the knife that’s tucked in the back of your belt. This time Natasha’s protective instincts of her sister stops your action. Her hand stops yours and she looks at you then firmly tells you “Don’t you dare.”

“Yes, yes, don’t you dare, Y/n” Yelena echoes Natasha’s words and takes another bite of her food. Your eyes are rounded in surprise when you hear her saying your name. Tension grows around the three of you, none of you saying anything for a good few seconds. Silence covers the room slowly.

“Oh sorry, where’s my manners? You guys want some? This big dude was a fighter, I got hungry after I fought him so I made some food. Do you have hot sauce?” Yelena’s thick accent wrapped voice breaks the silence as she offers both of you unconcernedly and fearlessly even though she noticed what you were about to do.

“Lena, where have you been? I have been looking for you.” Natasha’s eyes turn glossy.

“I have been here and there, trying to survive alone because I thought you were dead but I’m glad you are alive Nat.” She pauses her words, sadness and happiness shows in her eyes looking at Natasha but still tries to keep herself together.

“Soooo, is killing people your full time job? Or is it more of a hobby? If it isn’t your job yet, maybe it should.” Yelena expresses her sarcasm.

“What-what do you mean?” Natasha tries to cover the truth.

“No, thank you. I love my job so—” You sarcastically answer but she interrupts you.

“As a surgeon? And a serial killer at night?” Yelena smirks.

What she just said definitely puts you in high caution. You don’t want anybody to find out about you because you don’t want anything to happen to Natasha.

“How did you–” Natasha halfway asks her and Yelene finishes her question. “Find out?” Yelena puts her bowl down shortly before she continues as she stands up and pulls out a handgun.

“I thought you were dead, so I swore to myself that I would find and kill whoever killed you. Long story short, let’s just say that I did good research and found both of you even though it wasn’t easy. Well, I’m gladly telling you that your time has come." She points her gun at you at the last word she says and you quickly pull out your knife.

“Ah, a pair of killer sisters. I guess it runs in your blood, huh?” Your knife is on your tight grip and ready to take a life.

Natasha’s breath shook seeing what’s going on. “Y/n! Lena!” Of course both of you ignore her calls.

“You seriously gonna bring a knife to a gunfight?” Yelena chuckles and her grips tighten on the gun’s handle.

“Oh knife is more fun to use to torture my victim and guess what? You would be the next one.” Your intuition to survive brings your sinister self up to the surface. You move very slowly and Yelena’s aim follows you.

“Oh yeah? Try me.” The blonde challenges you.

“Y/n, what the hell? She’s my sister!” Natasha raises her voice. “Yelena, please don’t hurt Y/n!” her gaze jumps around between you and Yelena.

“I know, sweetheart but she is putting you in danger right now.” you answered.

“Said someone who kidnapped her and turned her into a killer?” Yelena puts up more guards on her stance.

“I helped her to find the monster in her. It was my act of love for her.” You explained in a disturbing proud tone and followed by a little chuckle.

“That’s bullshit! You sick bastard!” Yelena responded angrily at you then quickly looked at Natasha then back to you.

“Come home with me. Leave her, Nat!” she asked as she continuously watched every move of yours.

“Oh, she won’t. Your sister loves me as much as I love her.” You spoke for Natasha before even the redhead gets the chance to answer, mocking Yelena as you check how sharp your knife is.

“I love her, Lena. We love each other. I found my true self and she kept me grounded. Why don’t both of you put the weapon down and let’s talk. You are my sister and I don’t want to lose you again.” Natasha tries to stay neutral and cut down the tension. It’s hard for her to choose only one of you. She wouldn’t. She loves both of you.

“Look, Nat, she brainwashed you. This is not you. I don’t care how many you killed and I won’t tell anybody about what you did but I won’t let you be around this psycho.” Yelena is still trying her best to talk some sense to Natasha without letting go of her aim at you.

You walk back slowly, step by step with a plan in your head. Yelena notices. “What’s wrong? Are you scared? I would fight for my life if I were you.”

You let out an unamused chuckle the second you hear her mocking words. “You are one cocky little shit, aren’t you?”

“Blonde girls always fight back.” Yelena talks back your remarks and it hits something in Natasha’s memory. Her stomach turns. Before Nat questions Yelena about what she just said, you quickly hit the switch. The kitchen becomes dark. Only the moonlight that’s coming from the windows illuminates the room and you quickly sneak out of there.

With her quick reflex, Yelena instantly pulls the trigger, shooting in the dark a couple of times. To your surprise, she aims better than you thought. Two hot bullets made their way to you. One struck and got you on your waist and the other bullet grazed your thigh causing you to limp a little.

Yelena searches for you in such high caution yet Natasha looks for you worriedly.

“Get out of here, you coward!” Yelena demands, her breathing starts to get faster. She spins around to listen to any subtle hint of you; her gun is cocked and ready to shoot as soon as she sees you.

You walk around the room easily, familiar with how your surroundings are. You tipped toe to the other side and threw your knife at Yelena and it lodged right near her left shoulder blades causing her to yelp in shock. With great pain, Yelena turns around to find you again. As one of her hands tries to remove the knife and the other shoots one more time, thinking that you were still behind her. Shattered window’s sound followed after the loud sound from the shooting. Yelena realizes you are not there.

You snuck behind her then quickly grab her. One arm wrapping around her neck, making her gasp for air. Your left hand firmly holds the knife handle. You put more pressure on the knife, sinking it deeper, making her squirm. Then you twist the knife slowly, the agonizing sound coming from Yelena is music to your ears.

She lets go of her gun then tries to pull down your arm while air slowly empties her lungs. A satisfied sinister laugh flows out of you.

“What’s wrong? Are you fighting for your life right now? Hm?” you asked in a mocking tone. You loosen the grip of her neck for a few seconds then choke her again as if you are playing with her life like it’s nothing. Suddenly, Natasha hits the lights back on. She is torn and shocked from what she is witnessing in front of her.

“Y/n, let her go!” she says. Shaking as she aims her gun at you. She got your attention. “Oh hi, sweetheart.” You answer her nonchalantly.

Yelena gasps for air a bit by a bit. “Y/n, stop hurting her! I swear, I’m gonna shoot you if you don’t let her go!” You ignore her plea.

You laughed at Natasha’s threat. “You wouldn’t hurt me. Without me, you will be nothing. I made you. Without me, you are just a soulless monster.”

Yelena takes this as her chance to do something while you are not paying attention to her. She grabs her pocket knife discreetly then stabs your left thigh. You scream as soon as you can feel the knife against it. Yelena pulls the knife out to try and stab one more time but misses. Your hand is faster than hers. You were able to dodge it with your hand and grabbed the knife from her. You tossed the knife away from her reach.

“You little shit!” You yell at her. “Blonde girls always fight back. Just like last time.” Yelena says it one more time.

Natasha lets out a warning shot that was aimed close to you. “Y/n, you always say that about blondes. Why the hell did she say that??!” Natasha is still conflicted. Panic, confusion and curiosity are all mixed in her.

“Tell her y/n or..I..will.” Yelena tries to speak while struggling to get out of your strong grip as she slowly loses her energy.

“Y/n! I’m asking you one last time! Tell me why did she say that?!”

The silence from you was enough for her to finally connect the dots. “Did you try to kill her before?!” She asks in a shaky voice. Her grip on the gun gets stronger as she walks a step closer. Fury is written all over her face but there is a bit of her that wishes that her own conclusion is wrong. You try to ignore her question.

“DID YOU TRY TO KILL MY SISTER BEFORE?!” she demands an answer in a raised voice. Her pulse slammed in her neck.

“Alright, alright. Since the truth is out now. Yes, I did.” You finally let your arm’s grip off Yelena’s neck.

You yank Yelena’s hair back as you continue telling Natasha the truth. “I tried to kill her but her stupid blonde friend tried to help her and got in the way. Your sister was my first one that got away.” You pull the knife out of Yelena’s shoulder and let her go.

As soon as she falls weakly on her front, you step on her wound and give her a painful pressure. Yelena instantly screams loudly from the torment, leaving her with no strength.

“She..killed..Carol.” Her voice cracks as she tells Natasha between coughing and finally being able to gain more oxygen.

The cold gun barrel is still aimed at you and Natasha never lets her sight off you. Natasha’s skin crawled, sadness tore at her chest after hearing everything. Yelena’s scream, the truth and the view of you with no remorse whatsoever push her to the edge even more. Your confession felt like a knife to her heart. The memories of that night when you came home with a blonde victim and the next day you lied to her that you would never hurt Yelena came back in an instance.

Natasha’s gaze jumps from Yelena then back to you. “You tried to kill Yelena that night. It was Carol’s body that you brought. That was why you didn’t keep her body in the basement because you knew I would recognize her and find out what you did!!” Her body locked up with rage and her blood boiled. She sees your sinister smile, agreeing in everything she just said.

Natasha’s breathing gets faster. Tension grows in her. “Why, Y/n? Why did you try to kill her?”

“I thought she was in the way between us to have a new life together.”

Natasha tries not to let your words get in her head again. “That’s bullshit! You said you won’t kill her, you lied to me!”

“Oh yeah, I lied.” You casually play with your knife, toss it from your left hand to your right hand then back to your left.

“I thought you loved me!” She screams out her disappointment. Her forehead creased. You can see her hands shake a little, her face turns red from the overwhelming feelings.

“I thought so too.” Your answer shook her even more.She quivered with indignation. You punch Yelena and knock her out.

Suddenly, the loud explosive sound from her gun breaks the short silence. Natasha shot your right arm. This time your scream fills the room. “You bitch! You think you can kill me?!” You clench your jaw as you try to hold back the pain and you walk one step closer to her. The displeasure on your face intimidates Natasha a little.

As if your steps are connected to her gun’s trigger, Natasha shoots once more after you walk another step. Her love for you, anger and all of the conflicted feelings clouds her aim and the bullet went near your lower left ribs now. It stops you for a few seconds. Blood stains slowly appear on your clothes more.

“You can’t and you won’t. You are nothing! You should’ve aimed better, that's why you are not good enough!!” You yell louder at her and you quickened your limping steps.

Her heart drummed. Sweats trickled down her spine seeing the real you as she walked backward away from you.

“I’m not going to die. You can’t hurt me! I’ll make you watch me kill your sister!” You laugh in confidence.

The closer you get to her the more it provokes her to shoot you. This time two bullets flew to you as you were trying to charge towards her. Your body flinches each time. The hot deadly metals hit you on your stomach and grazed the curve of your neck. You are soaked with your own blood by now.

Fortunately, as soon as you get in front of her, your grip gets weakened and the knife falls off your hand. You are standing unbalanced. You look down to you all of your wounds then you look at her in the eye. Natasha gets just enough safe distance from you. She lets out a shaky gasp when she sees you fall on her knee weakly in front of her. Fear splintered her heart and her spirit fell seeing you wounded. 

Her feelings for you start to get in her head, part of her still cares for you. Natasha can see that your face is losing its color yet you are still laughing at her.

Meanwhile, Yelena slowly gains her consciousness and crawls weakly towards Natasha.

You spit out blood shortly before you say “I never loved you.” as you look up to her.

The four words of the final truth she heard from you plunged her into despair. Pain gripped Natasha’s chest. She crumbled inside, waking up flames of anger. Shame washed over her. The truth hits her like a huge wrecking ball. All she has ever done for you, all the victim’s life she took with you. In the end, all of them don't matter to you. Natasha starts to scream her lungs out, emptying all of her emotions as her eyes are closed.

CLICK

CLICK

CLICK

CLICK

CLICK

CLICK

CLICK

Her gun makes repeated clicking sounds as her finger pulls the trigger rapidly multiple times. You laugh maniacally and it opens her eyes. Realizing that she is out of bullets, Natasha drops her gun.

Seeing her tears leaving wet traces on her cheeks keeps you wanting to tell her hurtful things “I never loved you because you are not Wanda. You are never gonna be her!”

Yelena finally gets back on her feet.

“Nat, kill her. She doesn’t deserve you, she doesn’t deserve to live.” Yelena suggests as she tries to hand her another gun.

Natasha doesn’t respond to her sister. Your mocking laugh fills her mind. Natasha doesn’t even know anymore how she feels about you. Questions running around in her head, vivid flash images of the dismembered innocences starting to fly around in front of her.  All that is soon followed by tremendous guilt. Her world starts to spin fast, your voice and every word you are saying are muffled.

Then another loud sound brought her back at the same time as the explicit view of blood and particles of your scattered brain exploded in front of Natasha. The bullet went through your head after Yelena finally pulled the trigger to end all this.

“No. No.. Y/n!” Natasha falls onto her knees.

The fed up blonde tosses the gun away then quickly hugs her broken sister. Natasha starts to sob uncontrollably.

“It’s over, Natty. She’s out of your life now. You are free from her chokehold. Come home with me.” Yelena tries her best to comfort her while she is crying hysterically on her shoulders. Natasha nods without any words. Her mind and heart are having a battle. Feelings and common sense trying to make their point to her. A rough tug of war is happening in her. She feels lost. Without you, she doesn’t know what to do. You have always kept her monstrous killer side on ground yet keeps feeling the hungry need to kill.

Natasha’s happy she could be with her only sister again but it doesn’t change the fact that you are gone. She is now left behind with questions. Questions that she will never get the answers ever.

Anger, disappointment, despair, relief and guilt are melted all together in her. Despite all the anger, love and hate she has for you, she crawled to your lifeless body. Pulling you to her hug and rocking back and forth. Your pool of blood got on all over her. She wants to scream at you, asking you if what you said was true.

Yelena stands up with a painful grunt and lets her have her last moment with you while finishing everything up.

“I’ll be right back.” with that the blonde limps away.

Natasha keeps wondering when did you stop loving her. What did she do wrong? What she doesn’t have that Wanda has.

“I love you but I hate you now too. Why, y/n? I hate how much I love you.” She whispers in gritted teeth.

“What am I gonna do without you? What am I gonna do with these memories of all of our victims? I can’t fucking erase them in my head! You turned me into the monster you are! Fuck you! I should hate you for everything you did. I love you! Please come back!” Natasha keeps mumbling to herself.

She feels guilty. She hates herself for everything she did to those innocents and for still loving you but she can’t stop herself. Emotions after emotions, thoughts after thoughts slowly pushing her to the edge mentally.

Yelena stops for a few seconds pouring all the flammable chemicals around the house when she hears Natasha screams in her crying.

It hurts her seeing Natasha like that but she knew she had to kill you and it was for the best, to save her.

Pain claws deep in her heart. Natasha is furious with herself. She knew she can’t turn back the time to bring you nor the innocents’ lives back.

Her guilt is covering her like a huge dark cloud. Natasha cries and cries. She is lost in her own dark mind even deeper. Her mind and memories are out of touch but it wasn’t because she didn’t know enough. She knew too much. Natasha doesn’t know herself anymore. Invisible walls are closing in inside her, the devil’s knocking at her door.

Natasha had a somber look. Her eyes red from crying and her voice becoming hoarse from all the screams that she had let out.

She kept on until there were no tears left to shed, no more anger, no more hate. Just an empty hollow shell.

The strong smell of blood and gasoline didn’t have any effect on her senses. Her sanity starts to wander off.

“I just took care of James, Nat. I just need to make sure everything doesn't look suspicious and then we–” Yelena checks on her sister, but can only see how despondent she is. Her words stop abruptly as soon as she sees Natasha’s condition. Her eyes look empty and not responding to the surroundings even though they are wide open.

“Nat, are you okay?” Yelena asked.

Natasha doesn’t say a word. Her gaze is on one random spot while her arms are still hugging you. No emotions are written on her facial expression.

Yelena breaks Natasha’s hug around you then her hands hold both of Natasha’s cheeks, leading her eyes to look into hers. “Nat, look at me. Look at me. Everything’s gonna be okay. Okay? You are coming home and I’ll be with you always.” her whisper sounds shaky from sadness and worry. Yelena leans her forehead onto Natasha’s. She closes her eyes and her tears roll down. As soon as Yelena opens her eyes back again, Natasha’s expression is still flat even though her eyes turn glossy. No words come out of her lips as if her tongue refuse to work.

_____

Half a year has rolled away since everything that happened at your house, since you died.

“How’s your sister?” Detective Harkness asks Yelena.

“She’s still the same. She didn’t say any word or show any emotions since I found her that night on the road near that burning house.” Yelena responded with the lie she prepared.

“Ah okay. I talked to her doctor. He said that she still doesn’t make any progress and he doubts that she will. Even if she does, it would take a long time. He thinks that her mental health is not fit enough and she won’t be able to cooperate well as the key witness.” Agatha explains.

“Any update on my sister’s case?” Yelena shows her pretend curiosity.

“Yes, we know that the burning house belongs to Y/n Y/L/N. We found her and her butler, James Barne.There was also a bone grinder machine on the house basement and other equipment.The team found some bones that match some of the missing people we have. Everything leads to a conclusion that they might be the serial killers that have been on a killing spree in this town. They believe that the equipment was used by Y/L/N and Barnes to their victims.” Agatha shares some parts of the result of the investigations.

“So my sister has been kidnapped by them? They could’ve killed her! I can’t imagine what she has been through.” Yelena tries her best to play innocent.

“The autopsy showed some gunshot marks as well on her skull. There is a possibility that they both were fighting and trying to kill each other and your sister might use that chance to get out of there when the fire just started. How? I still don’t know. All i know, she got really lucky that she could come out there alive.”

“Yeah. I’m just glad that she is safe now even though she hasn’t been responsive at all.” Yelena can’t hold back her tears, her lips quivered.

Both Yelena and the taller woman look at Natasha through the glass window, watching her sitting still with empty thoughts and looks.

“Then what’s next?” Yelena breaks the silence and looks at the brown haired detective.

Agatha clears her throat and lets out a sigh. “That was the reason I wanted to meet you here. Your sister is such a sweet and amazing person. As much as I want the best for her case but due to her circumstances and with both Barnes and Y/L/N dead, we can’t proceed further investigation on this case.”

“What did you mean?” Yelena shows displeased, the complete opposite expression from how she really feels.

“It means the case is closed. Which is also good because now you can focus on Natasha’s mental health recovery. As a friend, I really hope that she gets better soon and has her normal life back. Please keep me updated about her and I wish you both good luck.” Agatha gives Yelena a comforting hug.

“Thank you. I will let you know. I really hope she gets better.” Yelena hugs her back shortly before Agatha bids her farewell.

After Agatha leaves, Yelena takes Natasha for daily afternoon strolls around the facility’s garden on her wheelchair.

Yelena crouches in front of Natasha. “Hi Nat. I have good news for you. Agatha told me your case is closed. Everything works as planned. Everything was blamed on Y/N and Barnes. They don’t suspect anything about you. Now, please Nat, I want you to get better. I need you, you are my sister and all I have.” Yelena kisses Natasha’s forehead then hugs her lovingly.

“I’m sorry I killed her. I had to. It was for the best, please come back and get better. I love you.” Yelena’s heart breaks from waiting for Natasha’s hug and words that only heaven knows when will it come.

The monster within her has muted Natasha’s own sanity.

A/n: Welp, that's all for today! Let me know what you think. As usual, reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated. I'll be back to my depressed isolation so see you in next maybe for some angst or another dark story. I dont know.

Cheerio!

Chellez TjS.

Taglist: @madamevirgo @musicinourlips @unstable-sapphic-hoe @fanboy7794 @chloe7076 @b0mbdotc0m @trikruismybitch @ichala @californianwhiterabbit @honey-sweet-hiraeth @imfuckinggenius @sxfwap @chaekhan @daenerys713 @srtamercurio @stupidsapphicsstuff @pattypavo @savethefbees @frvny @franfineashell @heyyoweveryone @ygtft-chen @yaaskasey @sweeet-likeeee-cinnamonn @paumxmff @dopeyouth @beaniejennie @ineedafinghug @idkwhatimwriting @lucydiibi @mainly-rebloging-fics-i-like @gloriousfoxruins @grxvitye @mcubreakdown101 @aos22 @wandanatstan @imdoingsortagay @marvelwoman-sugarbaby @femalehomosexual666 @snowdrop1026 @modernmonalisa @nothingisrealanyway @idamaemann @sweeterlust @royalityofmultifandom @playboysaleen @peabrain112 @gwhaley127 @harleyswanda @bodhi-j @darth-rain @cristin-rjd

[pinkscaped]

⌗ HEADLINES ! HEADLINES !

A mini collection of headlines that made The Pinkscape stand still. Content warning for Age Gap Relationships, Slut Shaming, and Employee x Boss Relationships!

POSTED : MAY 23RD 2024.

Hide your moms! Finn Lee was spotted making out with veteran idol and second-gen icon Myrah Yamazaki on the balcony of the Mydol building. It's alleged that the pair were at a company party, celebrating the acquirement of DeepDive's contract from Flowerbank Entertainment, when the pair went outside to smoke together. A fan, who might or might not be a stalker that doesn't matter here, caught the pair "kissing passionately" on the balcony after talking for a few minutes.

Though Mydol has released no official statement, Myrah posted on her blog about the photos, stating:

"I know I only post on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Sundays, and it's a Friday, but I just want to say that I DID kiss that guy, and it shouldn't matter. I kiss a lot of guys my age, not my age, older, younger, whatever. I kiss a lot of men because I want to, and I am nearly forty. Apologies for kissing your bias or whatever but leave me alone. He's not hard to kiss so go find him and kiss him yourself. TTYL xoxo, Myrah."

Many girl group stans found this statement empowering, while DeepDive stans found it offensive to Finn, who has remained silent on the issue. "She could've not called him a ran through whore like that," Twitter user "kiwowsussy" posted. "She's a loser I do not get y'alls obsession 😭" User "l8rbaebi" said in the quotes of the original article. This pairing seemed to cause a lot of commotion on Twitter and Instagram, many fans flooding both Myrah and Finn's comments with demands for an apology or pleas for them to break up.

To which, Finn simply replied with these Instagram stories:

Though it's still debated if the pair are officially dating or not, fans have seemed to calm down due to the very blunt statements of, and I quote, not giving a fuck.

POSTED : JUNE 3RD 2024.

Controversy follows Jung Yoonah wherever she goes. We were all there for when the infamous photobooth Jinah pics were posted to the Mydol Family Twitter. If you don't remember, here's a refresher:

Whichever intern posted that was obviously fired because the incident not only caused the tweet's deletion but also Mydol to release an official statement, threatening legal action if anyone makes "defamatory remarks about staff or artists" which we know Son Jinhwa is not above doing when you say something he doesn't like.

What was shocking was the 20-minute explanation video Jung Yoonah would go on to upload on her personal channel. In the video she's sitting on her bed room floor, providing her perspective on the entire situation as well as some insight on the infamous trial between her and Son Jinhwa in 2023.

"I think it's beneficial for everyone to know the truth. I did not want to leave Angelico, I did not want to sue Jinhwa or press charges against him, and I do not believe he is a bad person, which is why I took the first chance to sign with him again. All of those decisions were made for me by people who didn't and still don't care what I have to say. I never wanted to go to trial, but I'm dealing with its ramifications every day. I'm tired of it." Yoonah would start the video off guns a blazing, later going on to name-drop Lee Iseul, Carmen Bae, and former Venus member Bliss as the main people making these choices for her, which caused a massive stir online.

"With all the sincerity in my heart, please stop treating me like a child. I have had people make the most basic of decisions for me my entire life, and I would greatly appreciate it if everyone let me do what I want. I'm twenty-five years old. Let me live my life even if you don't like how I'm living it, please." This plea would cause a debate on whether or not Yoonah is capable of making her own decisions, her messy past of substance abuse, toxic relationships, and mental illness being brought up by fans and detractors alike.

While the video proved to be controversial, it got her point across and even had constellations trending #WELOVEYOUBAEBI across various platforms, which Yoonah responded to by posting an Instagram story of a black screen with a single "thank you 🤍" in the center of it. Despite this support, many are still worried about Yoonah's well-being under the management of Son Jinhwa, who was found guilty of assaulting the idol last March.

The worries seem to have fallen on deaf ears.

POSTED : DECEMBER 3RD 2023.

Son Roan, the magnetic CEO of Angelico Entertainment, was recently seen on what seemed to be a date with Yoomi, once the central figure and lead dancer of Lunarix. However, Yoomi's recent demotion by Mydol Entertainment has led many to question her abilities and intentions.

Born in 2001, Yoomi is ten years younger than Roan, who was born in 1991. Despite her youth, she has struggled to captivate the public. Both fans and critics have noted her lack of exceptional talent and her abrasive demeanor. Her appearance, which some consider average by K-pop standards, hasn't significantly boosted her popularity. This has fueled speculation that her association with Roan might be an attempt to gain attention rather than a genuine relationship.

Roan, renowned for his professionalism and keen business insight, swiftly addressed the circulating rumors. "We are merely close acquaintances," he clarified, adding, "I would never date an artist currently or formerly under my management." This statement seemed aimed at avoiding the kind of controversy that has long overshadowed his cousin, Son Jinhwa—CEO of Mydol Entertainment—who is notorious for dating younger women within his label.

Despite Roan's reassurances, public skepticism persists. Yoomi’s frequent appearances, often perceived as attention-seeking stunts, only serve to mar Roan’s otherwise stellar reputation. Her failure to secure a stable position within Lunarix has led many to question her true motives. Is she genuinely interested in Roan, or is this just another attempt to remain in the spotlight despite her waning popularity?

As the head of Angelico Entertainment, Roan has established himself as a figure of integrity and respect in the industry. It’s unfortunate that he is now caught up in this controversy, probably due to Yoomi's relentless pursuit of attention. His assertion that their relationship is strictly platonic should be sufficient to dispel the rumors, but Yoomi's controversial past makes it difficult to dismiss the suspicions entirely.

Roan works tirelessly to uphold his reputation as a respected figure in the industry, but Yoomi's relentless pursuit of fame consistently brings unwanted attention. The publc can only hope that Roan remains unaffected by this problematic association, so he can continue leading Angelico Entertainment with the same dignity and competence he has always shown.

At the moment, it appears that Roan is unjustly associated with his cousin's notorious actions due to Yoomi's frantic schemes. We can only hope that this will be a brief chapter in what will otherwise be a remarkable career for Son Roan.

POSTED : JUNE 6TH 2024.

Seoul's entertainment circles are buzzing with the latest news about Ahn Youngeun, the luminous actress and expecting mother, who was seen alone grocery shopping without her engagement ring. The missing sparkling diamond has ignited a wave of rumors concerning her relationship status with Son Jinhwa, the contentious CEO of Mydol Entertainment.

Son Jinhwa is no stranger to controversy, often making headlines for his eyebrow-raising behavior and tendency to date much younger female artists. However, last year he surprised everyone by announcing his engagement to Youngeun, the first woman his own age that he's publicly been involved with. Since then, their relationship has been closely scrutinized, and with the recent news of Youngeun's pregnancy, even more attention has been drawn to them. This new development has only intensified the public's curiosity and speculation.

At 32 years old, Youngeun was spotted without her engagement ring and in casual attire, causing speculation among fans and observers about the state of her high-profile relationship. However, when asked about it, Youngeun promptly shut down the rumors by clarifying that they are still planning to get married. She explained that she is currently pregnant and sometimes struggles with swelling, making wearing jewelry uncomfortable. She also emphasized her love for Jinhwa and how hurtful these rumors can be to her.

Son Jinhwa, 45, quickly came to his fiancée's defense. He shared a heartfelt photo from their maternity shoot on social media, captioned with "I love my wife," demonstrating their solidarity amidst the rampant rumors.

Although the couple has released statements to dispel the rumors, the public is still divided. Son's notorious history of objectifying his artists for financial gain and his controversial dating past have cast doubts on the authenticity of their relationship. Additionally, Youngeun's pregnancy and the significant age gap between them only add more complexity to the ongoing drama.

Is this merely a minor setback for the famous duo, or is something deeper at play? Time will reveal whether Youngeun and Jinhwa can withstand the turmoil and silence their critics. For now, the pair appears resolute in staying united, with or without a ring.

POSTED : JUNE 1ST 2024.

After being caught with Jung Juyeon, the failed actor turned dedicated fansite, Chloe Lee, the main vocalist of Venus, this past winter, she gave a somber apology via the Flowerbank official Youtube channel which has now been deleted.

With her hair in a low pontail, natural makeup, and a black turtle neck Chloe would stare somberly in the camera and lament how sorry she was for "abusing her power" and that "she was blinded by love" when falling for CozyChloe AKA Jung Juyeon. "I deeply regret my actions and hope you all can forgive me. I'm no longer seeing Juyeon and will begin seeing a therapist to help me with my behavior."

Yeah, all that was a lie.

On a recent URIDOL, the exclusive platform for Mydol artists, live stream Chloe would share a photobooth photo of her and none other than Lee Juyeon.

"I thought you guys broke up. No. Never. We're still in a relationship and have been even after that bullshit video," Chloe would respond to a comment with a proud grin on her face, "You guys didn't seriously believe that video, did you? I was never sorry. Iseul is just a bitch. That entire video was scripted...I should do more acting, shouldn't I?" She'd shrug her shoulders with a beaming smile.

This clip would go viral, sparking discussions of how we don't really know our idols and shouldn't trust anything put out by companies. Chloe would be scrutinized on social media for this, but only for a short amount of time, as her fans acted like the army, striking down any account that dared to speak ill of her, resulting in a whopping 52 accounts getting suspended.

Chloe would comment on the matter by posting a photo of her and Juyeon on a frozen yogurt date with a "😙" emoji, clearly unbothered.

We wish Juyeon luck.

POSTED : MARCH 13TH 2024

Angelina Choi lost the long-standing defamation lawsuit between her and Son Jinhwa, owing him an outstanding 20.7 billion won as well as a public apology, which she believed the same day she was publicly fired from her job at The Daily Idol, who also had to pay Jinhwa in damages.

"THE THING ABOUT JINHWA. The worst-kept secret in the idol industry." Was published September 6th, 2023 amid a nasty legal battle between him and Jung Yoonah AKA Baebi. This article weighed heavy allegations of grooming, pedophilia, and physical assault against Son Jinhwa, primarily focusing on the testimony from Kim Misun, an idol and estranged mother of his child. Misun would also be found guilty of defaming Jinhwa, though Jinhwa would not require her to pay him any damages, only asking for an apology behind closed doors.

Despite the jury and courts ruling in his favor, the public is split. The police records of Son Jinhwa's violence are undeniable, and the paternity of his son is also undeniable, but since the article's release, Misun has refused to release a statement. Though she didn't release a statement, her mother did, siding with Jinhwa and calling her daughter a liar. "Jinhwa never touched that girl. Those pictures are nothing more than a mentor and a mentee. She was always desperate for attention. I never thought she'd go this far. He's a good man who was good to her."

Following the verdict, Jinhwa says, "The jury gave me my life back." The public celebrates this, while Angelina Choi and Misun are shunned. Petitions to remove Misun from her group, Haute Pink, would reach over 100,000 signatures, and the group's Instagram page would be flooded with death threats and hate comments.

Flowerbank stood strong behind Misun, threatening legal action against those who slander their artist. "We believe Misun and stand firmly behind her throughout this heartbreaking verdict." But Misun, as usual, remained silent and will be absent from public appearances with her group until further notice.

Jinhwa walks a free man with a clean slate.