#I’m not sorry for getting political I’m fucking tired of hearing how it’s somehow our fault

[kuja-kujaku]

I am so so so so tired. Of people who do not live in the Deep South telling me that it’s our fault that we’re in the situations we’re in. You don’t understand. You won’t understand. We’ve been screaming for help for years and telling you about the absolute injustice for so long but the response is always “just vote.”

Just vote. Sure. Just vote when we’re regularly prevented from doing so. Just vote when our districts and regulations are changed on a whim, when we aren’t even provided enough ballots to vote with, when we’re denied everything from basic public transportation to drinking water to basic human decency.

Sure. The problem must just be because we aren’t voting. This state is not “old white boomers.”

This state is diverse. It is full of cultures and traditions from many parts of the world. It is full of PoC who do not deserve to be written off by your cowardly logic, bc every time I see the argument that we should be ejected from the USA or whatever the bullshit moral high ground line of the day is, it makes me absolutely insane. It is dehumanizing to speak of us like this. We are not cattle to be left to slaughter, and assuming we’re all straight old white republicans while refusing to look at the racism and fascism and hate in your own states is just closing your eyes and ears and playing pretend. We’re easy targets because we’re poor and uneducated, and not by our own doing. It’s easy to sit there and throw stones at us because the people in charge, who take our money and close our hospitals and ruin our schools and pay their way into office, keep us this way on purpose. And you are not better or smarter or any more upstanding of a citizen than us for bullying us over the internet or calling for our deaths.

“But you’re all old racists” look at the fucking data for your own state. Racism is rampant and endemic in this country. Do something about your own problems and then come talk to me, because we’re not your scapegoat. You don’t get to sweep those problems under the rug and pretend there aren’t literal N*zis stomping the streets in other states. I’m not saying there aren’t racists here, because we do have our problems, but you look at where these facists are marching openly. Ohio. Oregon. Manhattan. DC. Washington. I could go on. My point is that they are everywhere and you are not special.

And, frankly, saying we should all die or be cast out as a state is fucking racist. Look me in the face and tell me that the 40% of this entire state that isn’t white deserves to die or be cut off from the world because of our politicians.

Look me in the eyes and tell me those of us who are queer or neurodivergent or otherwise disabled deserve to die because you think we’re all old white republicans.

Do not fucking tell me to vote. Do not tell me I am the problem. The problem is systemic, and has been, and we have been stripped of our power to change it at every turn. Do something about it or get the fuck out of our faces.

[books-and-catears]

Hi! If requests are open could i request the brothers with a teen MC who's stressed about school?

When they come home they immediately throw themselves to bed, they often have headaches, they become more cold and distant, they often have a hard time submitting homework on time and they're not as lively as they originally were. How would the brothers comfort them?

I'm so fucking tired rn, i know it's the last month (even tho It's more like 15 days) but my teachers are starting a new important project where we have to host an EVENT along with our exam that is coming up in a week. And we're in fucking highschool-

Aw I think I accidentally opened my asks again but I read this and I relate so much to this; I needed this as much as you. Being a student is too hard sometimes. *hugs* Sorry sweetie you must be so exhausted too?

I'll definitely write this. I apologize if it's a bit short but thank you so much for this ask. I'll try and do my best okay?

Exam season has just rolled out in Devildom and Diavolo had recently announced that the Exchange students will not have a reduced syllabus and have to study like the rest of the demons, to get a better understanding of their culture and history. This sudden increase in work hasn't been easy on you.

Lucifer

He notices something off with you when you stop telling him leave his paperwork and get some rest. These days it seems he has to pull you away from your work.

He can see how dull and lifeless your eyes look as you try to politely sit through meals with everyone.

"MC do you have some time to talk?" He asks you one day in the middle of homework. "I'm a little busy Lucifer maybe later. I still have finish three more these essays." Wow how the tables turn.

He was planning to have tea with you, but as you usually leave the tea near him when he's working, he did the same. "Don't worry MC I'll take care of this." He whispers to himself.

You're only a child, why are you being so overworked? This is ridiculous. Immediately takes it up with Diavolo and the authorities at school to make sure you're not given more than you can handle.

Mammon

What do you mean you're not up for movie night? Again? This is the fifth time you've denied him. Mammon starts getting worried about you.

At first he's afraid that maybe you're only mad at him so he asks his brothers who you are spending time with. You are nowhere to be found in any of their rooms.

He reaches your room and finds you curled up in bed, groaning in pain, holding your head. "MC what's wrong?" You manage to squeak out, "Head hurts." It looks really bad from the way you're wincing.

He goes into panic overdrive, going up to Satan and Lucifer, even ringing up Solomon for headache cures. After you get a little better, he found out that it's school stress that's doing this to you.

Godamnit Diavolo! Why would you think it's okay to send a little human to Demon school? They work differently don't they. He will volunteer to do most of your work at school- even though he forgets his own.

Leviathan

Levi was excitedly waiting for you to show up to play his new game. It was the usual routine for you to come back from school, freshen up and then join him gaming four days a week. But you haven't showed up. For the third time this week.

He keeps texting and calling you but don't reply. At first he thinks it's because he's a yucky otaku but then he notices you aren't even getting his messages. So he ventures out of his room and finds you in yours.

You were fast asleep in your uniform, your phone switched off due to low battery, your bed unmade and your bag in a slump on the floor. You look like a game character who got defeated in a fight.

When he hears it is the school stress that is doing this to you, he adamantly hatches a plan. "Levi we have school why anime now?" You ask as he drags you to his room.

"Because you need a energy recharge! So I told Lucifer you'll be staying with me all day and watch your favourite anime." Levi said, handing you a bunch of snacks.

Satan

This is the ninth day in a row you had fallen asleep in the library. Yes Satan was counting. Everytime he finds you, you're curled up in a chair with a heavy bookon your lap and your notebook and pens strewn across a nearby table. Overdue assignments.

"Oh MC again?" He mutters as he puts his jacket on you so you don't get cold. When was the last time you read a book with him? You seem so busy and distant these days. He noticed the way you kept denying all his brothers hence he didn't approach you himself. Now he understood why.

Diavolo must be barking mad in his head if he thinks an adolescent human can work the same way as age old demons. He feels annoyed at how you're being overwhelmed.

You wake up to him sitting next to you, writing down your assignments. "Satan why..." Satan smiles and palms your head, "You need to rest, you've been working too hard. I'll handle the assignments, you sleep some more, I'm taking you to a cat cafe later. Playing with cats will help you feel relaxed."

Asmodeus

Asmo notices the redness in your sunken eyes on the very next day after you pull an all-nighter. He offers you to come to his room but you decline saying you have to prepare for upcoming exams.

He finds it increasingly hard to keep his mouth shut and leave you alone when you look like this. Your skin is breaking out, your cheeks are sinking. You're starting to look like Lucifer.

Look at how school is ruining you! You are only a baby and yet you're starting look a workaholic corporate worker.

One day he's had enough with your lack of self-care and he drags you to his room. You try telling him off "Asmo I have exams-" He snaps back at you angrily, "Today is your day off whether you like it or not. I will not have you mistreating yourself like this. Now come on we're doing a home spa."

Beelzebub

Everything seems wrong. You aren't eating well. And today you look like you're about to pass out while eating dinner. He can't eat when you're like this - he doesn't want your leftovers anymore.

You try to smile at him, "I'm okay Beel. I'm just not very hungry." He isn't buying it but you leave so suddenly he couldn't say anything. You seemed to brush people off and be on your own these days.

He noticed you skip the lunchline at school to scurry off to a lonely table to finish up some work. He gets an extra plateful of food and sets it down next to you.

"Beel I said I'm not hungry." You try to say but Beel is having none of it. He snatches your stuff away. "School can wait, you need nourishments to work. I won't let you work before you eat all of this, MC."

Belphegor

This is heavily annoying to him. He sees you running out of your room, sneaking into the library to study at 3 AM in the night. Did you just wake up and decide not to sleep ever again?

When he tries to approach you about this, you act snappy and cold towards him. He doesn't mind - he understands why you're like this. He's grumpy half the time when he doesn't get to sleep either.

As if he needed more reason to resent Diavolo. Not only did he drag you down from Earth and now's he overworking you in school. Is this supposed to help somehow? Cause the only thing this has done is reduce the smiley chirpy MC to Lucifer version 2.0

One day he sees fall head first onto the floor as you try to flee your room. You stumble and shake as you try to get up again. "Okay that's it. Enough of this." Belphie appears and takes you back to your room, throwing you on the bed. "Belphie I'm fine I just need to finish-"

"You need to finish your sleep. I thought humans had better self-preservation than this. You will not get out of bed until you've caught up on your sleep" He tucks you in bed and stays there until you fall fast asleep.

[retrievablememories]

love thy neighbor | kun (m)

title: love thy neighbor pairing: kun x black reader genre: fluff, smut, neighbors to lovers request: “Hello again Rain! I hope you're doing well and I'm happy to see you're open for requests again. Your writing in general is a treat to look forward to. An idea for a fic I'd like to suggest is wayv kun/black oc where they're neighbors that secretly pine for another and do feel free get very nsfw lmao. TY!” word count: 5.7k warnings: alcohol use, protected sex, dirty talk, dry humping, riding a/n: i used a prompt from this list of ideas to help me create this fic.

i’m sorry, this fic could’ve theoretically been finished long ago but took me 3893 years because kun intimidates me (and i don’t know why) and that makes it hard to write for him l m f a o chile anyway...

--

Your neighbor might actually kill you one day—but only in the figurative sense.

Kun is too beautiful and kind for your sanity; he’s like one of those men out of a romantic novel who simply should not exist. In other words, the ideal guy. One who helps all the little old ladies in the building take their groceries up to their apartments, one who feeds all the stray cats that hang around the complex, one who helps new tenants move their things in without even being asked.

Your roommate Charlotte would probably be totally smitten over him just like you if she did not already have her own happy relationship with her girlfriend. But since she does, she has decided to spend her time instead teasing you about your crush on him and trying to persuade you into getting tangled up in a matchmaking mess.

“I’m sure he already has a girlfriend, I don’t know, trying to shoot my shot seems ridiculous,” you say to her, worrying the edge of your blanket in your hands. You toss and turn on the couch, flipping onto your stomach and sighing before shuffling onto your back again. “People like that can never stay single for long. Right? They get snapped up quick.”

“You’d know if you simply asked,” Charlotte points out. “Staring holes into his head won’t help you find out more about him.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, your fingers stumbling over the blanket as it momentarily slips from your hands. Still, the idea of asking him if he’s dating anyone, whether discreetly or more openly, makes you nervous. You’ve talked to Kun several times before, even hung out with him at those friendly get-togethers your apartment building always holds to get the residents mingling, but you’re still anxious around him. It makes you feel silly, like you’re back in high school; but you aren’t quite sure what to do with those emotions or how to form them into something coherent. “Easy to say all that when you already have the person you want, though.”

“Oh, girl. Love is not easy, but that’s why you have to fucking work for it. AKA, go for what—or who—the hell you want and stop pining over him like some lost Juliet on our couch. It’s better than watching you flop around like a dying fish.”

You stand up from the couch abruptly, leaving your blanket to the side and glaring at her. “You don’t get it, ugh.”

“I get it! But you refuse to let me help—”

“Yes, because if I did, you’d say something completely ridiculous and tell him I’m madly in love with him or something.” You head to the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror.

Charlotte throws her hands up in surrender. “Hey, maybe. But that wouldn’t be a lie.”

“Really? I don’t think—”

“I think so. The way you talk about this guy, it’s definitely sounding a little like love to me.”

Once you’re satisfied, you come back in the main room and grab your keys, wanting to end this conversation before Charlotte sets a world record for how many times she can make you feel embarrassed. “Whatever you say. I’m gonna go to the corner store, so...speak now if you need something or forever hold your peace.”

“You can’t run from it,” Charlotte sing-songs, going back to reading her magazine. “And no, I don’t need anything.”

Once you get out your front door, it’s just your luck when you see Kun’s door is also open. You are not dressed for running into him, of all people; your “corner store” clothes being just a T-shirt, leggings, and slides. You freeze in place and momentarily think about unlocking your door and bolting back inside, which you realize is utterly ridiculous. By then, it’s too late; he’s already coming out his door and closing it behind him. 

He perks up when he sees you outside, smiling at you with those deep dimples that make your insides melt. “Hey Y/N, good to see you.”

“Kun! Uh—great to see you too.”

“Are you going out somewhere?” he asks. Inwardly, he feels a bit silly for asking because you clearly are, keys in hand and everything.

“Yeah, just to the store to get a few things.” You wave your hand, and you almost have the urge to lean on your doorframe to appear more calm and collected than you are. Which could potentially end up looking sillier than you intended. “How about you?”

“Going to see a friend,” he answers, and he brushes his hand through his hair in a way that’s completely casual but somehow modelesque at the same time. This is unbelievable, you think to yourself. “We haven’t met up in a while, so…”

“Oh yeah, it’s always nice to go out with old friends,” you say, smiling at the thought of it. Kun nods his agreement, and then has an abrupt, wild idea to ask if you’d like to go out somewhere sometime. Too busy warring with himself over whether he should take the dive, he doesn’t notice you heading towards the stairs already. “I hope you two have a good time!”

“Oh—thanks. Hope you enjoy your trip.” He chuckles, following you down the steps to get to his car. Well, that moment has passed. Sure, he could probably still ask you now if he was bold enough about it, but it feels too awkward to randomly ask someone out in the middle of a stairwell.

You wave bye to him once you both get in the parking lot. He watches you walk to your car with a wistful smile on his face. He wants to say more to you, but the timing isn’t right and it’s best not to hold you up right now. Plus, Hendery’s probably already waiting for him.

It would’ve provided you with a lot of relief if you knew Kun was facing a similar dilemma to you. He’d never had much problem talking to women he liked in the past, but something about you made him feel clumsy and hesitant. But just like with your inability to move forward, there’s no way for you to know his feelings without him saying anything about it—which he has been hesitating over for the longest. 

Maybe he was also still cowering from the embarrassment of the time he’d tried to show you a magic trick that didn’t quite work out, but it was a convenient excuse. At least for him, anyway.

One day he’d get the courage to tell you how he felt, but he didn’t think today was that day.

–

Some strong shots and a few hours at the club was exactly what you needed to unravel your nerves after a long week. You and a few others from your work had decided to go out that Saturday night as a group effort to unwind from dealing with your overbearing boss. “Just a couple shots” eventually turned into more than that, though, but you weren’t complaining. As long as it gave you the opportunity to discard all your issues for a while, you didn’t mind losing yourself a little.

However, your night of fun quickly dissolves into frustration when you realize you’ve lost your keys and have no way to get back into your apartment. You’re not even sure where they might’ve disappeared—in the club, or in the rideshare back to your apartment?

Charlotte is out of the city for the week visiting her long-distance girlfriend, so there’s no way you’re getting back in your apartment tonight. The main office won’t be open at this hour, either; it’s the weekend, and nobody will be there regardless until Monday. And you’re definitely not drunk enough or desperate enough to try to bust the door down.

Though it pains you to do so, you knock on Kun’s door, your head throbbing and dizzy. You feel bad about this. He won’t even be awake at this hour and might not answer, but you don’t know what other options you have. You aren’t familiar enough with your other neighbors to ask this of them. Especially not the old lady living on the other side of you who has a perpetually judgmental aura towards everyone in the apartment building. The only person she seems marginally approving of is none other than the man himself—Qian Kun.

It takes a good minute or two, but you hear the latch unlock, and Kun is suddenly standing in front of you, a look of concern on his sleepy face. He is adorable like this, in his pajamas and his hair mussed and his eyes foggy with sleep. He’s so cute it makes you want to cry—and so you do. 

But your tears are mostly because you’re very tipsy and tired and currently locked out of your very comfortable apartment.

This awakens Kun immediately. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” He gently pulls you into his apartment, his tone quiet but panicked as you put your face in your hands and cry. You just shake your head for a few moments, crying too much to say anything to him. When you don’t reply, he doesn't try to press you for answers; he just puts his arms around you, a bit carefully as if you’re made of some easily breakable material, and lets you wet his T-shirt with your tears.

Finally, when you’ve collected yourself some, you abruptly feel foolish for crying over something like this. He probably thinks someone’s died, and you’ve gotten him all worked up for practically nothing. “I-I’m locked out,” you sigh heavily, and he has enough politeness not to outwardly react to your alcohol breath with your close proximity. “And my roommate is gone…forever.”

His eyebrows lift. “Forever?”

“The whole week, Kun...but it feels like...f-forever.”

“Ah...I see. Is that why you were crying?”

You put your head back in your hands. “Just kill me.”

“Don’t feel bad about it,” Kun says, and there is a tiny lift to his mouth like he wants to smile at your dramatics. “It’s fine. You can stay here tonight.”

“Kun, thank you.” You’re still loosely embracing each other, and you squeeze your arms more tightly around him. Maybe it’s just a reason to rest your head on his chest again and hear his heart beating strong against your cheek, but you wouldn’t admit that. Wait, why is his heart beating so fast? “Thank youuu, I love you so much, this means the world to me.”

Kun’s mind catches on the words I love you so much, and he knows you’re just drunk and need to sleep it off and aren’t really thinking about what you’re saying, but he cannot help lingering there for a moment. He’s glad the front room is still dim from the single lamp he turned on, otherwise you might notice the flush growing on his cheeks. “I...it’s no problem. We should get you comfortable, then.”

As it turns out, get you comfortable means he lets you sleep in his bed while he takes the couch. In another context you’d protest, not wanting to kick him out of his own space, but you are simply too smashed to think about it. You’re seconds away from falling asleep where you stand now that the adrenaline of discovering you’re locked out has worn off. Kun has the idea to make you drink some ice cold water, though, which wakes you up enough to take a proper shower.

By the time you get out of the shower and are wearing his clothes—his clothes—you are feeling a little more sober. You also feel like you’re going to have another small meltdown over all this. “This” being: wearing Kun’s clothes and standing in his bedroom, which is decorated with all his interests and treasured belongings. There’s a small studio setup in one corner, which interests you, but you don’t investigate it any further.

Now you have another little problem, though; what are you gonna do about the pillows? You don’t have anything to cover your hair with, with all your scarves and bonnets in your own apartment. One night of sleeping on a cotton pillow wouldn’t kill you, but that doesn’t make it any less distasteful to think about.

Kun comes into the bedroom to check on you and sees you puzzling around, sitting on the bed and looking awkward. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh. It’s nothing really,” you rush out, unsure if you should tell him about a problem he likely won’t even understand. It must be at least 4:00 a.m. by now, meaning you both desperately need to get some sleep.

“You can tell me, I won’t bite.”

I wouldn’t mind if you did pops into your head, but you immediately try to ignore that thought and are silently grateful that you do not blush visibly.

“Uh, my hair.”

“Your hair?”

“Okay, I need to cover it at night so it won’t get all broken off or anything—sleeping on cotton does wonders for destroying moisture—but I don’t have anything here to use. I mean—it’s...not a huge deal though, I can deal with it for a night?” You’re rambling now. Kun just nods, taking in all this information like he’s listening to something very important and very interesting.

“So then, what would you do to stop that?”

“Wear a scarf, or a bonnet, or using a silk pillowcase works, too. But you probably don’t have any of that stuff, you don’t have to bother with it—”

“Well, let me see.” Kun disappears into his closet and you pause, wondering for a moment if he actually does have a bonnet or something in there. Which would probably be a little hilarious to you.

He comes back out with not a bonnet of a scarf or even a pillowcase, but one of his own shirts. It’s just the right material though, being a pretty purple silk.

“Oh—Kun.” At this point, there are several emotions all trying to come to the forefront, though you have no clue which one to settle on. “Your shirt? You really don’t have to. I could…”

“It’s just a shirt, Y/N. There are a lot more where that comes from...I don’t mind.” He chuckles.

You sigh bashfully but take the shirt from him. “Thank you, it’s really thoughtful of you.” You cover the pillow with his shirt, and it works perfectly.

“Anyway, if you need anything else, just tell me,” he says, lingering by the door.

“I will...thank you,” you say, your voice quiet as you give him a nervous smile. Only when he shuts the door and his footsteps fade away do you allow yourself to bunch the comforter in your fists and scream into it. Everything in here smells just like him, which is probably more than enough to fuel all of your Qian Kun-related daydreams for the next 8 months.

It doesn’t take long for you to drift off when you finally do lie down, and your mind is blissfully empty of anything throughout the night.

--

The next day takes a bit of settling into. You’re momentarily alarmed when you wake up faced with a strange room until you remember last night’s events and recall where you are. There is also the smell of food, good food, which is also sadly unfamiliar to you. Charlotte can’t cook to save either of your lives, so you know you’d never be waking up to the smell of a professional chef-approved breakfast if you were still in your apartment with her.

Walking out of Kun’s room, you see that he’s in the kitchen, halfway finished with cooking breakfast for the both of you. It’s more like brunch at this hour, but what does that matter.

You linger at the doorway for a moment, allowing yourself to imagine that this is what things would be like if you were dating. Getting this view everyday? Life cannot be this unfair.

Maybe not too much, though, since you are standing in his kitchen.

“Oh, good morning,” he greets you, breaking your reverie. “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning. I slept great. Thanks again for, you know, the shirt, haha…”

He grins, and his dimples come out. “Sure thing. Go ahead and sit! Breakfast will be ready soon.”

It’s the best breakfast you’ve eaten since living with Charlotte; maybe some of the best food you’ve ever had. “I had no idea you could cook this well,” you say. “I mean. I guess I wouldn’t since I haven’t—you know, uh—eaten here before, but—it’s great.” It’s just your luck that your thoughts come out in this fumbling mini-rant, but Kun only laughs good-naturedly.

“Thank you, I’m truly glad you like it.”

You both continue eating breakfast while making light conversation. This just might be the longest conversation you’ve had with each other, and that knowledge seems surreal. You’re almost a little glad you lost your key. Almost.

“So...today is Sunday. And the leasing office still won’t be open until Monday.” Kun says this over the remnants of breakfast. He speaks in a measured tone, like he’s trying to ensure he says the right thing. Whatever that could possibly be. “And you told me your roommate won’t be back until Monday.”

To your credit, you hadn’t exactly accounted for this when you first came over to his place in your distressed state. That means another night spent in his apartment though, which becomes very obvious to you now. “Ah. Sorry, am I imposing?”

“What—no, I-I just wanted to make sure you knew you can stay here tonight, or—however long you need.”

Relief floods through you, and you briefly wonder why you even worried about it; as far as you know, he’s not the kind of person to just kick someone out. “Ohh, of course—that’s good to know. Thank you for all this!”

“You’re welcome.” You miss the smile he gives to your response as you’re busy drinking your juice, but it’s one filled with a certain affection.

--

It feels a bit awkward to just sit around in his apartment all day, with nothing to do and all your belongings still locked out of your reach in your own place, so Kun shows you the studio in the corner of his room. He’d talked about being into music before, but you’d never heard anything of his until now.

When he plays the keyboard for you, it’s to the tune of a beautiful self-composed song. You almost pinch yourself to remind yourself this isn’t a hallucination or a fever dream. A man this appealing really exists, and you’ve stayed the night in his apartment and eaten his breakfast. You give a small round of applause when he finishes.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you became a famous singer or something? I’d come to all your concerts,” you say lightly, kicking your legs on the edge of his bed.

“All? Really, all?” He laughs.

“Yes, all. A voice and talent like that deserves all the attention.” You lean back on his bed, stretching your legs out. “But all your venues would probably be sold out. Hopefully you’d remember me from your lil’ ole apartment building. I’m sure you’d be living in a penthouse by then.”

Kun smiles bashfully at your compliments, waving his hands as if it’s too much. “Thank you. But I don’t think I could ever forget you.” His voice grows a bit softer. His expression is more genuine than you expect for a conversation that was so playful only seconds ago, and you find it hard to hold eye contact all of a sudden.

It is your turn to be bashful, and you shrug in an effort to seem natural. “Well, I’m flattered.” Despite your unaffected demeanor, you don’t think those words will leave your mind for a good while, even if you wonder about the meaning of them. 

--

Later that evening, Kun makes dinner and you watch TV together, flipping to whatever channels have dramas or movies playing.

You two eventually fall into another conversation when you can’t find anything good to watch—one that does not make you overly nervous for once. During a lull in the talking, that big question pops up into your mind, and you wince internally at how Charlotte would’ve already told you to make a move. You aren't sure how to do that without making him uncomfortable or seeming too sudden, but you decide to make an attempt.

You edge into it with, “So, um, your place looks pretty nice for one guy. It’s just you here, right?”

“Ah yeah, just me. Thanks, I do try my best.”

“Haha, I’m used to my guy friends all having super messy apartments until they get a girlfriend and she teaches them how to clean a stove for the first time…”

“Oh really? That’s a bit sad for them, isn’t it?” He chuckles. “I’m not dating anyone right now, so it’s all me.”

Just the information you were looking for. You try not to show your elation. “Why not?” you blurt out. Then you cringe because this might sound too invasive or even judgmental, but Kun only grins. “It’s just, it’s a little surprising. You’re such a generous person. You seem to care about everyone, even those poor stray kitties that stay outside the apartments all the time.”

He smiles timidly in response to receiving more of your compliments. “I guess it seems curious when you put it like that.” Just like when you’d drunkenly said I love you so much, there’s suddenly heat on the back of his neck that he hopes won’t turn into another blush that’ll expose him. “I don’t really know, I haven’t thought much about it; life’s weird like that.” He isn’t really sure how to answer that question in a way that won’t be too big of a hint that he’s interested in you, though he’s also not entirely sure why he’s still trying to hide it. Wouldn’t now be the perfect opportunity? When will you two have this much time together again? Still, you staying in his apartment for two days doesn’t mean you like him, and maybe he’s jumping the gun.

“That’s true. Guess that’s the same reason why I’ve been alone for a while now.” You shake your head.

“You?” Kun is equally surprised to know this about you.

You laugh incredulously. “Does that shock you or something?”

“I...well.” He rubs the back of his neck as he searches for the words. “I just thought...you’re very pretty, and you’re always really kind when we speak, so...”

“Oh?” Your face heats up at that.

“Yeah, I…think anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“Oh.” Your body’s first instinct is to freeze with nervousness, but you know Charlotte would be kicking your ass in gear right now if she were somehow here. So, you decide to stop stressing about it and just do it. “Well...wouldn’t it be nice if we both had a way to fix our problems at the same time?”

Kun pauses for a moment before replying. “What do you suggest?” He knows what you are proposing—you can see in his eyes and his slight grin and his posture that he knows—but maybe he wants to hear you say it out loud.

“Hm, well…I don’t know, what do you think?” You lean a bit closer to him, raising your eyebrows and trying your best to look innocent and unassuming. His smile turns into something different with your increased proximity. Something a little more sly.

Mirroring your actions, he inches nearer to you until there’s little space left between. “Well, I think…” Kun tentatively closes the remaining gap between the two of you, the rest of his sentence left to linger as his soft lips envelop yours.

Maybe it’s corny to say it, but it definitely feels like one of those fairytale kisses with the fireworks going off and streamers popping; even though you’re sitting on his couch wearing his pajamas, some movie in the background you’ve long forgotten the plot of, empty dinner plates sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You aren’t sure how you end up in his lap—who made the first move? Was it his hand on your back or your hands on his shoulders? You straddle him on the couch, your arms slipping around his shoulders and his hands on your back but assuredly traveling farther down your body.

Kun’s hands come to rest on your thighs, pulling the fabric of his shorts up a few inches higher. “I never thought I’d see you wearing my clothes,” he says lowly, grinning against your mouth.

“I also never thought I’d be sitting in your lap like this, but maybe sometimes dreams do come true,” you say jokingly, your lips rubbing against his skin as you slowly kiss his jaw.

You can’t see his expression, but his eyebrows shoot up at that. “Dreams, huh? You think about me often?” His voice pitches lower when he asks this, aroused by the thought of you imagining anything quite so lewd about him. You’ve definitely incriminated yourself now and won’t be able to wiggle out of it without an answer.

“...Maybe.”

“What do you think about me?” Kun grips your hips, which quickly turns into him grabbing your ass—tentatively at first to test the waters, and then firmly enough to grind you against his hardening cock. Sensing him solid and warm underneath you sends a shockwave down your spine, and the sensation heightens when his voice caresses your ear, all low and tense with arousal. “It’s just the two of us here. No one else has to know.”

“I think about your...lips. How you might kiss me. Or what you might say to me. And...your hands.” You pause there, a quiet breath whispering past your lips. “You have really big hands, you know.”

“My hands…” Kun places one on your chest, spreading his fingers across and touching your collarbone. The heel of his palm glides on the top of your breast, and just that touch is enough to get you more worked up. “Hmm. Actually, I’ll admit I’m pretty good with my hands.” He smirks, and he’s possibly the finest thing you’ve ever seen. “What else, Y/N?”

“I thought about how you’d touch me.” His hand slides between your breasts now, down your sternum, and to your stomach. “Maybe I’d invite you into my apartment when Charlotte wasn’t there. We’d watch some stupid movie and pretend to be into it, but we’re really just thinking about each other. You’d eventually end up slipping your hand up my skirt...and making me cum all over your fingers.”

You aren’t sure how you’re saying all this to Kun right now, the dude you have a major crush on, without bursting into flames.

His shaft rubbing against your clit even through your layers of clothes makes you sigh dreamily, pressing your forehead to his and gripping at his shoulders and biceps. His bangs are soft against your forehead, and your breath stutters when he moves to kiss the side of your neck. He has to know how hard your heart is beating right now.

“And then what?” His voice is barely a whisper, then.

“And then you’d fuck me, of course.” There’s a slight laugh in your voice at the ticklish feeling of his lips kissing your skin.

“And then I’d fuck you...hm,” he echoes. “Sure, I can do that.”

The promise of it entices you, and more heat pools between your legs, amplified by the fabric rubbing against your sensitive parts. His hand that’s still on your stomach travels under your shirt then, and your hips falter in your rhythm against him when his fingers brush across your nipple. He brings his lips to your other breast, lapping his tongue against your nipple over the fabric.

You soon come like this, his shaft grinding against your clit and his clothes rubbing against your skin, his hands on your ass and his lips traveling across your breasts. The orgasm is sudden and surprises you, but it’s good, and you convulse as the waves of pleasure course through you. You weaken and slump against him, with him still teasing your breasts with his mouth and hands. Pushing your face into his hair, you moan into the black strands until the quivering stops.

You’re breathless when you speak again. “You haven’t come yet.”

“I’d rather do that when I’m inside you,” he replies. You giggle quietly.

“...What are you waiting for, then?”

“Hold on.” Kun carefully maneuvers you off his lap, and you already want to complain at the lack of his touch. “I have to get a condom.”

“Hurry, or you’ll miss all the fun,” you say as you pull your shirt off with your back to him. You look back over your shoulder at him and grin mischievously.

“You’re such a tease…”

Kun goes into his room to fetch a condom, and when he returns he’s already pulling his shirt off, leaving it on the floor somewhere. You’re fully naked now, your legs pulled up to your chest and your chin resting on your knees as you sit on the couch. Kun’s eyes drop between your legs, your inner thighs still glistening from your previous orgasm, and he swipes his tongue across his lips at the sight of you, wet and ready for him.

Likewise, your eyes drop to the dark trail of hair leading into his pants and his bulge just below it, the way his sweatpants cling to his length, and your pussy throbs with the desire to be filled.

“Please, hurry.”

Kun doesn’t waste any time in getting the rest of his clothes off, shoving his pants and underwear done in one swift move and rolling the condom over his shaft. He climbs onto the couch, grabbing your legs and guiding them around his waist, and you giggle at his eager but gentle touch as you recline on the couch pillows behind you.

He grabs his dick and lines it up with you, then pushes it in slowly at first. The stretch makes your toes curl, but it is a good kind of stretch, the kind that fills you to the brim. Like the missing element you needed.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice husky from the pleasure.

“Fuck, please,” is your answer as you shift your hips and try to get him all the way inside quicker. Noticing your urgency, he slides the rest of the way in until your hips are flush against each other and starts thrusting into you. His length dragging across your walls feels much better than you could’ve imagined on any given night, and you clasp your legs tighter around him to get ever closer.

After a point, he pushes your legs up with his hands behind your knees so he can get a deeper angle, and you both moan at the difference in sensation and how much tighter you get around him.

There is no ignoring the messy wet noises of your bodies colliding due to the slickness of your previous orgasm and the new wetness he’s continually fucking out of you. Each thrust reaches deep inside you, deep enough to make you nearly sob, your hands fumbling over your breasts and your clit all the while.

“Kun, god yes please,” you whimper, rocking your hips into the rhythm of his own. You fucking him back makes him groan deeply, his bangs hanging off his forehead as he dips his head to watch himself slide in and out of you. You could not control the urge or the motion of your body even if you wanted to; you want all of him, as close as he can get.

“I don’t want this to end,” he moans, and he pulls out without a warning. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, and your discontent comes out in a full whine. You’d be more embarrassed about it if you weren’t currently consumed with desire, but you presently do not care.

Kun sits back on the couch and pulls you on top of him again. “Ride me,” he says. So you grasp the base of his cock, him grunting as you do, and you press the tip against your entrance before pushing it in. He watches himself slip inside of you while fully enraptured, one hand tight on your hip.

Once you are full with him again, you experimentally grind against him to see how it’ll feel in this new position, and your arms tremble as his pelvis stimulates your clit.

“Go ahead,” he whispers, grasping the nape of your neck and kissing you hard once more, “fuck yourself on me.”

So you keep grinding your clit on him like that, your limbs shaking from the stimulation and your walls fluttering around his cock. You can barely catch a complete breath from him kissing you hard enough to make your lips swell, and your head is so fogged with lust that all you can concentrate on is getting yourself off just like he told you to do.

“Kun…” You roll your head onto his shoulder, pressing your forehead into his skin, your body tiring as you get closer to reaching that high. You’re so close to coming, but you’re not sure if you have enough strength left to get there on your own. Kun notices the state you’re in and grasps your hips to pull them into his, effortlessly sliding himself into you while making sure your clit gets stimulated at the same time.

The new friction of his dick rubbing against your g-spot in this position is enough to have you finally coming and crying out against his neck.

You continue babbling nonsense against his neck as he keeps fucking you, searching for his own end. His hands are hot on your body as he moves you up and down his length.

His climax comes soon after yours, his dick pulsing and his pace slowing. Your back arches at the sensation of him throbbing inside you and releasing his cum into the condom. The way he groans in your ear has your stomach clenching.

For a few minutes after, you both sit quietly and do nothing but cling to one another as you come down from the pleasure.

“So, does this mean we’re together now…?” Kun asks hopefully, running his hands over your back as you lie against him.

You smile against his skin. “Obviously. But if you still want to convince me, we can go a couple more rounds…”

[il-ballo-della-vita-maneskin]

Hiiii first, I'm totally in love with your blog...

Second I'm obsessed with that video of Damiano were he pulls vic all of the way of a motorcycle, could you do a imagine based in that and it turns in a argument with reader maybe fluff in the end just him being protective and all...

sorry it took me so long to write this, but here it finally is

i really hope this is somewhat what you wanted. i maybe have gone in a sliglty different direction, but i honestly couldn’t help myself, i really love mutual pinning, lol.

anyway, i hope you’ll like this, i had so much fun writing it and thanks for the request (if you have any more, send them in).

damiano david x reader

word count: 1802 (i think, lol)

warnings: mutual pinning, arguing, make out scene, cursing, maybe a little pathetic characters ng

gender of the reader: unspecified

~

You knew Damiano was next to you and that he was telling you something, but you didn’t pay much attention. You absentmindedly nodded your head while writing a message to Victoria to tell her you’ll be back soon.

It was already much later then you have expected it’ll be. Damiano and you had a meeting with some photographer, that will take pictures of the band. All of them were supposed to go, but none of them felt like going, so Vic asked you.

With your feelings for him clouding your thoughts and leaving you awake at night, you weren’t sure how clever of an idea was that. Though, it didn’t seem like he was enjoying it either. For quite some time now, he’s been acting distant, hasn’t really been talking to you. And it was the same way today. He barely said a word to… 

A hand grabbed your forearm and yanked you aside, just as you had sent a message to Vic, to tell her you’ll be back soon. You raised your head to see what’s happening and a motorcycle passed by you. Judging by its speed, you knew that if you weren’t pulled away, you’d most likely be hit.

“What in the…” you murmured and turned to see who saved you, only to be met with Damiano’s furious gaze.

“What were you thinking!” he shouted too loudly and you flinched. The night was so quiet, with the humming of the wind as the only source of sound, and his raised voice was almost like an explosion.

“Don’t yell,” you said and jerked your hand away. His eyes crossed your body and you unintentionally held your breath. You could hear your heart beating rapidly and your mouth got dry. You felt like kicking yourself. What about him forced your body to react this way, as its only wish was closeness to him, as it only yearned for his touch and it couldn’t focus on anything but his presence?

It was remarkably irritating, really.  

Especially now, when you didn’t even realize that he was talking to you, until his features changed into a frown.

“Are you even listening, Y/n?” he asked.

When he didn’t get a response, he heavily sighed and ran his hand through his hair. You wondered would it be like if you did the same thing.

“You are unfixable,” he said.

Thoughts about touching his hair vanished and your head suddenly cleared.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“It means, Y/n, that you can’t even not get yourself killed. You were on the middle of the fucking road! You could have died and you aren’t even bothered about it,” he said and got a step closer too you. Unlike usually, it didn’t wake a nauseous feeling, like someone removed earth under your feet. This time, it just angered you more. You knew it was stupid, but you couldn’t bottle up your feelings any more.

“Well, you wouldn’t be bothered even if that did happen, so you can stop already with that bullshit. Thank you for pulling me aside, but now we can just get back to the ignoring and not giving a fuck about each other, like recently. I assume you must miss it, after helping me and stuff. It’s a big deal, as you’re usually not able to be polite to me for a minute,” you said, surprised how steady and stony your voice sounded, despite the devouring ache in your chest. You wanted to hit him, push him, scream at him, pull him close, hold him, kiss him, but you stayed still.

“Oh, gladly! Tell me, do you want us to completely ignore each other despite being friends once, like you did for last couple of months, or do you think we could actually explain what our fucking problem is?” he said and raised his eyebrows at you mockingly.

“Don’t even try,” you said through gritted teeth. “It was you who stopped talking to me, you who pretended I’m not in the room and you who killed our friendship. Don’t blame it on me.”

He was dangerously close to you now and your brain only managed to process it when his breath fanned over your face. The realization left you breathless. It was like you couldn’t inhale properly and it made your head spin.

“Well, I do. I blame it on you, Y/n. If you weren’t- fuck,” he cut himself off and took a step back, his eyes purposely not meeting yours.

Despite air absence, you managed to crook out “What? If I weren’t what?”

Your feet twitched, begging you to run away. The way street illuminated his features, made his skin glow almost an ethereal shine and brought warmth and depth into his eyes seemed like too much. After having him so close, no matter that it was only due to a fight, you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. You needed to leave. Or you might do things you’ll regret later.

Though, your curiosity got the best of you, as it’s prone to do.

“Damiano? If I weren’t so what?” you said and now it was you who got dangerously close. You pulled his shoulder to force him to face you. When he turned, you were only inches away, but you managed to disregard the throbbing pain in your heart. If only you could lean a little closer…

“Stupid. That fucking motorcycle almost hit you! You were walking on the middle of the roadway. It could have hit you,” he first raised his voice, but then it got quieter. You could swear his face softened, but then every trace of that disappeared again.

“What were you fucking thinking? If you didn’t focus all your attention to sending messages, you would’ve heard it. Or heard me when i was calling you.”

You didn’t know how to answer him. You were already tired and this fight seemed needless.

“Look, Damiano. Can we just stop now? I was reckless, I suppose, alright. Thanks for not letting a motorcycle kill me, if that’s what you want to hear. Can we just go-“ you started but was cut off by Damiano:
“That’s not what I want to hear! How can’t you see it, Y/n?” he said and only then have you realized how tired he looked. And somehow… sad.

Last few months, something in your relationship with Damiano changed. There was that constant tension when the two of you were in the room. Gradually, you grew apart. And you hated that. It might would’ve been easier for you to bury your uninvited feelings for him, but you loved Damiano. He was your close friend and you didn’t want to lose him.

You blamed him for fall of your friendship, for the hole he left in your heart, yet it never occurred to you that it might be just as hard for him. You knew friendships sometimes fade and there in no one to blame for that. But you refused to let it happen with you and Damiano. Even if you needed to sacrifice your own feelings. Maybe, after some time, they will disappear.

“I don’t want you to thank me. I just… be more careful. I- “but he stopped. You wanted to urge him to continue. But you resisted.

“Alright,” you said. “Let’s just get back.”

You needed to fight the tears. It felt so bitter, saying goodbye. But it was better to part from your emotions than from him, right?

He grabbed your hand. You turned your head to face him again. His scent was so familiar, every little part of his face you knew better than your own. His dark eyes looked at yours, but something in them changed. His gaze wasn’t angry anymore, but some new determination found its way into it.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke quietly, almost whispered. A sad smile formed on his lips, as if every word hurt him. “I just… I don’t want you to get hurt. I got scared and… I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want you to be hit by a motorcycle.”

“I don’t want you to be hit by a motorcycle either,” you said, before you could stop yourself. You wondered why did you say something so stupid, even though it was true, but it was too late. Though, on your surprise, he lowly chuckled.

The sound was so beautiful it put you in a daze, but you soon joined him. You were laughing for some time, the sound spreading through the chilly air of the night and filling the empty street. Though, he got serious again.

“But I really am sorry, Y/n. For acting the way I did for last few months. I wish I could say I didn’t mean to push you away, but that’s exactly what I wanted. I- “

The said smile stretched his lips again. It didn’t fit him. You preferred his laughter from few moments ago.

“I suppose I care about motorcycle not hitting you more than as for the other people.”

Your heart threatened to burst out of your chest.

It maybe didn’t mean anything, of course. You were close friends, that was probably what he implied to.

Though, you could wait no longer to find out.

You leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

But he didn’t kiss you back.  

You could feel something inside of you breaking as you backed away quickly, and you knew it was something vital. You fucked this up, you just ruined…

His hands grabbed your face and pulled you to him. Your lips collided with such force it made you lose your balance. But he held you tight and you placed your arms around your neck, as in wish to pull him closer, though it was impossible.

His lips tasted of cigarettes and whiskey he had at the meeting with the photographer, his tongue fought for the dominance with your own. Your teeth clashed in the kiss so passionate and hungry, yet capable of showing how much you needed each other, to make known all of your hidden wishes and pains.

His fingers pressed your waist, so hardly you were sure you’ll wake up with bruises in the morning. Yours were pulling at his hair, which made him shiver and deepen the kiss even more. You could feel his heart beat and chest heavily ascending and descending against yours.

You slowly dragged your fingers on the back of his neck and into his t-shirt, but you needed to pull apart when you lost your breath.

It spun in front of your eyes and you couldn’t even see him clearly. But you could very well see the grin on his face and it brought the alike on your face.

You placed your head in the crook of his neck. His arms embraced you and he was about to say something when your phone buzzed.

The message was from Victoria: You will come back soon, huh? Well, I guess you and Damiano are busy

i know this went in quite different direction, but i hope you still like it<3

Love, Ri✨

P.S. imagine requests are open, so feel free to send requests, i really like getting them (and sorry if it takes me a while to answer to you!)

[blackcatrph]

** evermore sentence starters.

willow.

“ i'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night. ”

“ you cut through like a knife. ”  

“ i never would have known from the look on your face. ” 

“ the more that you say, the less I know. ”

“ i'm begging for you to take my hand. ”  

“ life was a willow and it bent right to your wind. ”

“ i could feel you sneakin' in. ”

“ you are a mythical thing. ”  

“ i come back stronger than a '90s trend. ”

“ wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark. ”

“ show me the places where the others gave you scars. ”

“ anywhere else is hollow. ”  

champagne problems.

“ you booked the night train for a reason. ”

“ bustling crowds or silent sleepers, not sure which is worse. ”   

“ i dropped your hand while dancing. ”  

“ your mom's ring is in your pocket, my picture is in your wallet. ”

“ your heart was glass and I dropped it. ”

“ you told your family for a reason. ”

“ you couldn't keep it in. ”

“ no one's celebrating. ”

“ your hometown skeptics called it champagne problems. ”

“ love slipped beyond your reaches. ”

" this dorm was once a madhouse. "

“ don't think we'll say that word again. ”

“ sometimes you just don't know the answer. ”

" she would've made such a lovely bride. ”  

“ what a shame she's fucked in the head. ”

“ she'll patch up your tapestry that I shred. ”

gold rush.

“ eyes like sinking ships on waters, so inviting I almost jump in. ” 

“ i don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch. ”

“ everybody wants you. ”

“ everybody wonders what it would be like to love you. ”

“ i don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bones crush. ”

“ what must it be like to grow up that beautiful ? ”

“ i see me padding across your wooden floors. ”

“ it fades into the gray of my day-old tea. ”

“ it could never be. ”

“ my mind turns your life into folklore. ”

“ i can't dare to dream about you anymore. ”

“ the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure. ”

'tis the damn season.

“ If I wanted to know who you were hanging with while I was gone, I would have asked you. ”

“ it's the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass. but I felt it when I passed you. ”

“ there's an ache in you. ”

“ but if it's all the same to you, it's the same to me. ”

“ you could call me "babe" for the weekend. ”

“ the road not taken looks real good now. ”

“ the holidays linger like bad perfume. ”

“ you can run, but only so far. ”  

“ i escaped it too. ”

“ remember how you watched me leave ? ”

“ now I'm missing your smile. ”  

“ hear me out, we could just ride around. ”

“ i won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay. ”

“ i wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm faking. ”

“ the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own. ”

“ we could call it even, even though I'm leavin'. ”  

tolerate it.

“ i notice everything you do or don't do. ”

“ you're so much older and wiser. ”

“ if it's all in my head tell me now. ”

“ tell me I've got it wrong somehow. ”

“ i know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it. ”

“ i greet you with a battle hero's welcome. ”

“ i take your indiscretions all in good fun. ”

“ while you were out building other worlds, where was I? ”

“ where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire? ”

“ i made you my temple, my mural, my sky. ”

“ i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life. ”

“ always taking up too much space or time. ”

“ you assume I'm fine. ”

“ what would you do if I break free and leave us in ruins. ”  

“ took this dagger in me and removed it. ”

no body, no crime.

“ he did it. ”

" it smells like infidelity. ”

“ that ain't my merlot on his mouth. ”

“ i think I'm gonna call him out. ”

" i think he did it, but I just can't prove it. "

“ no body, no crime. ”

“ i ain't lettin' up until the day I die. ”  

“ his mistress moved in. ” 

“ there ain't no doubt. ”

“ somebody's gotta catch him out. ”

“ i've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene. ”

“ they think she did it, but they just can't prove it. ”  

“ i wasn't lettin' up until the day he died. ”

happiness.

“ i see this for what it is. ”

“ all the years I've given Is just shit we're dividin' up. ”

“ i can't face reinvention. ”

“ i haven't met the new me yet. ”

“ there'll be happiness after you. ”  

“ there was happiness because of you. ”

“ there is happiness past the blood and bruises. ”

“ haunted by the look in my eyes. ”

“ leave it all behind. ”  

“ tell me, when did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk? ”

“ when did all our lessons start to look like weapons? ”

“ i hope she'll be your beautiful fool. ”

“ no, I didn't mean that. ”

“ i can't see facts through all of my fury. ”  

“ there'll be happiness after me. ”

“ in our history, across our great divide, there is a glorious sunrise dappled with the flickers of light. ”

“ i can't make it go away by making you a villain. ”  

“ no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you. ”

“ now my eyes leak acid rain on the pillow where you used to lay your head. ”

“ after giving you the best I had, tell me what to give after that? ”

dorothea.

“ do you ever stop and think about me?”

“ you got shiny friends since you left town. ”

“ i got nothing but well-wishes for you. ”

“ this place is the same as it ever was. ”

“ it's never too late to come back to my side. ”

“ the stars in your eyes shined brighter in Tupelo. ”

“ and if you're ever tired of bеing known for who you know, you'll always know me. ”

“ you'rе a queen sellin' dreams. ”

“ they all want to be you. ”

“ are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? ”

“ i guess I'll never know. ”  

coney island.

“ break my soul in two looking for you. ” 

“ if I can't relate to you anymore then who am I related to? ”

“ did I close my fist around something delicate? ”

“ did I shatter you? ”

“ sorry for not making you my centerfold. ”

“ lost again with no surprises. ”  

“ it gets colder and colder when the sun goes down. ”

“ what's a lifetime of achievement If I pushed you to the edge? ”

“ you were too polite to leave me. ”

“ will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care? ”

“ sorry for not winning you an arcade ring. ”

“ were you waiting at our old spot? ” 

“ did I leave you hanging every single day? ”

“ did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey? ”

“ the sight that flashed before me was your face. ”

ivy.

“ i'd meet you where the spirit meets the bones. ”

“ your touch brought forth an incandescent glow. tarnished, but so grand. ”

“ i just sit here and wait, grieving for the living. ”

“ my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand. ”

“ i can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland. ”

“ my house of stone, your ivy grows. and now I'm covered in you. ”

“ i wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed. ”

“ your opal eyes are all I wish to see. ”

“ clover blooms in the fields. ”  

“ what would he do if he found us out? ”

“ he's gonna burn this house to the ground. ” 

“ i'd live and die for moments that we stole on begged and borrowed time. ”

“ so tell me to run, or dare me to sit and watch what we'll become. ”

“ it's a goddamn blaze in the dark. ”

“ it's the goddamn fight of my life. ”

cowboy like me.

" dancin' is a dangerous game. "

“ now I know I'm never gonna love again. ”

“ i've got some tricks up my sleeve. ”

“ takes one to know one. ”

“ you're a cowboy like me. ”

“ i never wanted love, just a fancy car. ”  

“ i could be the way forward. ”

“ the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up. ”

“ the old men that I've swindled really did believe I was the one. ”

“ now you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon. ”

“ forever is the sweetest con. ”  

long story short.

“ i tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me. ”

“ the knife cuts both ways. ”

“ if the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break. ”

“ i fell from the pedestal, right down the rabbit hole. ”

“ long story short, it was a bad time. ”

“ i always felt I must look better in the rear view. ”

“ missing me at the golden gates they once held the keys to. ”

“ but if someone comes at us this time, I'm ready. ”

“ i wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things. ”

“ your nemeses will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing. ”

“ rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky. ”

“ long story short, I survived. ”

marjorie.

“ never be so kind that you forget to be clever. ”

“ never be so clever that you forget to be kind. ”

“ what died didn't stay dead. ”

“ you're alive, so alive. ”  

“ never be so politе that you forget your power. ”

“ nevеr wield such power that you forget to be polite. ”

“ if I didn't know better I'd think you were listening to me now. ”

“ you loved the amber skies so much. ”

“ and if I didn't know better I'd think you were singing to me now. ”

closure.

“ it's been a long time. ”

“ seeing the shape of your name still spells out pain. ”

“ it wasn't right, the way it all went down. ”

“ i got your letter. ” 

“ i know that it's over, I don't need your closure. ”

“ don't treat me like some situation that needs to be handled. ”

“ i'm fine with my spite, my tears, my beers and my candles. ”

“ i know I'm just a wrinkle in your new life. ”

“ it's fake and it's oh so unnecessary. ” 

evermore.

“ i replay my footsteps on each stepping stone trying to find the one where I went wrong. ”

“ i was catching my breath. ”

“ i had a feeling so peculiar that this pain would be for evermore. ”

“ I can't remember what I used to fight for. ”

“ you cannot think of all the cost and the things that will be lost. ”

“ can we just get a pause? ”

“ is there a line that I could just go cross? ”

“ when I was shipwrecked I thought of you. ”

“ in the cracks of light I dreamed of you. ”

“ it was real enough to get me through. ”

“ i swear you were there. ”

[ppersonna]

tempestuous - kth | m

tem·pes·tu·ous - adjective - characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion

↳ summary- There’s no one who riles you up more than Kim Taehyung, your best friend’s brother.  He knows exactly how to make you fly off the handle.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 6.8k

↳ pairing- taehyung x reader

↳ genre- smut, minor angst i guess in the form of fighting, this is one big pile of smut, there’s some fluff too

↳ warnings- yikes where to begin.  angry sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don’t be like dis), slapping, spanking, pain kink, dom/sub elements, facefucking, really rough sex, finger sucking, derogatory names, uhhh name calling, hate sex, tae is fuckin nasty yall im thriving

↳ a/n- I HAD TO REUPLOAD bc tumblr sucks lol well folks. here we are.  i was given a prompt by @ladyartemesia​ so i blame her.  as for tae, he really came for me this week and completely wrecked me, love that for me. i really popped off here and it’s only edited by me so i’m SORRY if there’s a lot of mistakes.  fun fact i actually wrote almost 10k of another version of this but it frustrated me so badly i scrapped it lmao  🤡 HERE WE GO! Enjoy!  feel free to send in your requests and i promise to try and get it done for you! 

Kim Taehyung could only be described in a few words.

Infuriating, bothersome, vexing.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, suave.

Absolutely, inherently maddening.

And you hate how much you absolutely melt underneath his gaze, the way your heart leaps into your throat with a single word.  Your body, the ultimate betrayer, opens up to him as your brain screams to abort, reverse, go back to start and do not pass go.

Kim Taehyung is not just the bane of your existence, no.  He’s the little brother of your best friend, Kim Namjoon.   Joonie had been in your life since you were in first grade and he in second.  Taehyung was your age, but you hit it off with the older boy and haven’t separated since.  Your mothers joked that you would get married one day and continue on the Kim line.  Until they found out that Namjoon was 1) bisexual and 2) hopelessly in love with, ironically, a man named Kim Seokjin.   He reasoned to his parents that they would at least carry on the Kim name.  

Where Namjoon was sweet, caring, and deeply compassionate towards you, Taehyung was his alter.  Taehyung was brash, cocky and relished in watching you squirm, whether it be out of fury or the god forsaken sexual tension.  All growing up, he was the one to pull your pigtails, trip you into puddles of mud, and tease you in front of your friends. Namjoon, ever the faithful companion, was always there to pick up the pieces of what Taehyung broke.

It’s been that way with Taehyung ever since. A constant tug of war with each other, both unwilling to give a single inch to the opponent.  

Your relationship with Namjoon remained steadfast as ever.  Namjoon eventually moved in with his now-husband, Seokjin, who easily settled into your life as an additional partner in crime.  You spent most of your days and nights settled into the couch, snuggled somehow in between or next to one of the two men you cherished most.  You had the two best friends you could ask for and a happy life, blissfully Taehyung-free.

Until it wasn’t.

A loud knock wakes you from an unexpected nap on Namjoon’s couch.  Your eyes crack open against the glare of the sunlight streaming through the windows.  It takes a moment to gather your surroundings.  You recognize that you’re in Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, and judging by the silence, you’re definitely alone there.  As you reach for your phone, the screen lights up the time.  5:34 pm.  Well, shit. You remember eating brunch and drinking mimosas at noon with your best friends and then lying on the couch to watch Netflix.  How had you fallen asleep for five hours?  How did you not wake? What the fuck did Jin put in his mimosas?

The knock is insistent again, louder this time.

“Joon! Jin! it’s me! Open up!”

The voice sounds familiar in your sleep-addled mind, but not quite enough to pinpoint it.   You push your limp body off the couch and wince at the feeling of sore muscles.  Couch sleeping isn’t all it’s cracked up to be once you’re past the age of 25.

“Sorry, Namjoon isn’t here-,” You open the door to explain to the guest and you’re cut off.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You rub at your sleepy eyes and allow your vision to focus, only to feel your blood stand still in your veins.

Kim Taehyung.  Of fucking course.

“What do you mean, why am I here? I’m always here,” you tut as you fold your arms to your chest.  “What are you doing here?”

He rolls his eyes and holds up his hands, two suitcases clutched in each.  Who the fuck carries 4 suitcases up three flights of stairs? Kim annoying ass Taehyung does, apparently.

“I’m moving in.”  He pushes past you and into the living room.  

Your mouth gapes open.  Namjoon certainly didn’t tell you this.  Taehyung looks back at chuckles at your reaction.

“I’m guessing your best friend didn’t tell you the happy news?”

You shut your mouth, quickly jumping back into composure.  “No, he failed to mention that,” you sniff.  “I thought you lived with your girlfriend in Gangnam?  What was her name? Rose or whatever?”

Tae stiffens, just slightly for a moment, before he plasters back on the bravado.  “Obviously not anymore.  We broke up, she kept the apartment.  Got tired of moping at my mom’s house and I told Namjoon I wanted to come back to the city.”

You feel a slight tug at your stomach, guilt, perhaps?  You clear your throat.  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He laughs as he sits on the couch, instantly throwing his feet onto the coffee table, like a heathen.  “No, you’re not.”  

“What do you mean, no I’m not? God, sorry for being polite!”

This, you reason, is why you can’t sustain longer than 5 minutes of civilized conversation with your best friend’s younger brother.  He’s impossible.

He just smirks, and you know he loves the rise he gets out of you.

“Because I know you, and I know you don’t give a fuck about my love life.”

Au contraire. If only he knew just how much you gave a fuck.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be nice to you!” you nearly stamp your foot in frustration but hold yourself back. That would be too good of ammo for him to use against you.

“Okay, fine,” he acquiesces. “Whatever helps you feel you’re a good person.”

You’re seeing red and you know you want to continue screaming at him but you will not stoop to his level.

“Christ, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re still an asshole,” you say as you grab your keys and shoes. “And also, Jin will kill you if he sees your feet on his coffee table.”

You whip yourself around and open the door to leave and hear him call over your shoulder.

“Good to see you too, doll! Love the hairstyle, by the way.”

You close the door with a growl leaving your throat.  The absolute audacity of that man.

You stomp towards the elevator to take yourself to the ground level, when you catch your reflection in the shiny metal. Your hair is in what you can only lovingly call a complete hornet’s nest. It’s ratted and sticking out in places and you feel your cheeks burn.  Your first reintroduction with Taehyung is with a fight AND with you looking like a fool.

This would not do. No, sir.

“Kim Namjoon!” you shriek into your cell phone.  You’re awkwardly pressing it against your ear with your shoulder as you walk out of the convenience store under your apartment building with 3 bottles of soju and a six-pack of beer. You needed to drown your shame and sorrow, and fast.

“Hello, love of my life and moon of my stars,” your best friend replies and you can hear Seokjin chuckle in the background.

“No!” You chide, already cracking a beer open as you storm into your apartment building. “Don’t you Khal Drogo me, mister! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me your fucking asshole brother was moving in with you?!”

Namjoon is silent and you can tell he’s wincing on the other end of the phone. “Oops?” He offers.

“Yeah, big oops! A heads up would have been nice! Like, ‘hey best friend, your worst enemy of all time is moving in today. Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep on my couch and wake up looking like Frankenstein’s ugly wife. Oh, and also my handsome boyfriend and I will just happen to not be there when he arrives’.”

By this time, you can tell Namjoon has put you on speakerphone because you can hear their rich laughter loud and clear. Rude bitches.

You stab your key code into your door and lock yourself in, chugging as much of the beer as you could handle.

“At least, even in her rants she thinks I’m handsome,” Jin gloats.

“I’m sorry babe,” Namjoon sighs as he finally calms down. “I didn’t know he would be there today. I just found out about it last night.”

You nibbled at your bottom lip, the annoying pit in your stomach feeling simultaneously guilty that he went through a breakup, unbridled joy that something brought him down a peg, and just a dash of excitement that he’s single now.

You let out a breath. “It’s okay, Joon.  It just surprised me to see him.”

Jin butts in, “And because you have a big, fat, unresolved crush on him.”

“Jin!” You admonish. The couple laughs again and you roll your eyes, asking yourself why you put up with the two. “I do not!”

They both hum a non-committal answer, implying they don’t believe you in the slightest.

“Whatever.  What are you guys doing, anyway?”

“We just got home from shopping.  God, Jin looked so good in these jeans he tried on.  I was actually just about to suck his coc-,”

“Kim Namjoon, do not finish that sentence! I do not wish to hear it!” You try to remain firm, but dissolve into giggles with the pair.

You could never stay mad at Namjoon long, even if his brother was the devil incarnate.

“Darling,” Jin calls through the phone.  “I still expect to see you at our place tonight for our sleepover.”

Christ, you had forgotten all about your scheduled sleepover night.  It was tradition and one of your favorite parts of your friendship with the couple.  Jin, a literal chef, prepared a five star meal along with dessert for you while you binge watched Netflix and talked incessantly.

But you also usually slept in their spare bedroom.  The exact one that Taehyung would be occupying.

“Fuck, while he’s there?”

“Oh suck it up,” Jin chides, like he’s your mother. “He’s probably not even going to leave his room.  You’re not getting out of this.  I’m making strawberry cheesecake.”

Your mouth waters at the idea of Jin’s famous cheesecake.  

“Fine, but I get to lick the bowl and not Namjoon.  Those are my terms.”

Namjoon squawked in defiance as Jin laughed.  “I agree to your terms.  Be at our place by 8.”

As you hung up the phone, you checked the time.  6:40.  God, he hadn’t left you with much time to get ready, did he?

And you definitely needed to get ready.  There was no way you were entering a room where Kim Taehyung exists looking like booboo the fool, not again.

Your fingers press the 6 digit passcode to Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, arms heavy laden with your bag of toiletries and pajamas, and a bag full of wine.

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce as you toe off your shoes and slide into the combined kitchen and living room.

You receive no reply, but greeted with the amused face of none other than the object of your filthiest dreams, Taehyung.

“Pet names already?  We’re moving pretty fast, wouldn’t you say?” He asks you as he lounges at the kitchen table.  He watches you open the fridge to set the wine, as comfortable in their home as you are in yours.

“Fuck off,” you grumble. “Where’s your brother?”

Tae seemed absolutely tickled by your disgruntlement.  “I think they mentioned something about taking a shower.  That was 20 minutes ago, though.”

“Great,” you sigh. “Those fucking horn dogs act as if they’re still newlyweds.  We’ll be waiting awhile.”  

You tug off your sweater, leaving you to remain in a fitted tank top and yoga pants.  You tried to maintain a comfortable look as you dressed for the evening, while keeping in mind which leggings hugged your ass and showed off your toned thighs, and a tank top that dipped low to your cleavage.  Okay, so maybe you had ulterior motives. You wanted to make up for your dreadful appearance earlier and make him squirm, payback for the years of him doing it to you.

You watch him as he lets his eyes roam your body, eying you like he wants to ravage you completely. You feel victorious… and also turned on. Fuck, you played yourself.

You flop onto the couch in a huff and Tae snorts before joining you.

“What’s so funny?” You eye him suspiciously.

“Nothing,” his smile feigns innocence. “I’m not allowed to laugh?”

You sniff in annoyance, not eager to fall for his tricks. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, your highness.”  Sarcasm drips from your voice and Tae finds it even more humorous.

“I see you’re still a sassy bitch.”

You gasp, audibly startled by his language and rise from the couch, fists clenched.

“I see you’re still a conceited dick!”

He rises to meet you where you stand, eyes boring into your own with his stupid sexy grin on his face.  “I see you’re still not one to back down from a fight.”

You step closer, close enough to feel his breath on your face.  Idly, you note it smells like peppermint and you move closer on reflex.

“Yeah? I see you’re still not one to avoid starting a fight in the first place!” you huff.

“Oh, I started it?”  

“Yeah, you started it! You called me a bitch!”

You can’t believe this is happening.  You feel as if you’re 6 again and fighting with him over a toy.

“A sassy bitch, actually,” he corrects, taking another step forward, bodies touching.

“Fuck you!”

“Only if you say please,” he quips before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours in a scorching hot kiss.

There’s not even a moment of hesitation on your end, immediately pulling him even closer and wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing his tongue entrance to your mouth.  Your body reacts to his instantly, as if it’s wired to respond to him and him only. Your mind was blank of anything except Tae, only Tae please, and you acted purely on instinct alone.  And instinct was pulling him closer and begging, more, anything he could give.

The sound of laughter coming from the hallway pulls you apart, neither of you wanting to get caught by Namjoon or Jin.  You stare at him, his lips are cherry red and slightly swollen and the image burns into your retinas.  He has such pretty lips after you’ve kissed him.

“Oh hey! What’s going on here?” Namjoon asks as he notices the intense eye-battle you’re engaged in with his younger brother.

It shakes you out of the spell, eye contact broken and hypnosis halted.  

“Just, errrr,” you falter to find the right words to explain the situation.

“Just getting reacquainted.”  Tae sounds completely unaffected, as if the passionate kiss you shared with him seconds ago was but a distant memory.  Asshole.

“I’m surprised you two haven’t thrown anything at each other yet,” Jin laughs. “Or thrown yourselves at each other.”

Both you and Taehyung whip to look directly at Jin.

“Her!?” Tae is incredulous. “Gross.”

You’ll never admit out loud that his words wound you.

“You’re an asshole, Taehyung,” you punctuate your words by turning away from him and towards Namjoon, who appears amused as ever.

“Ah, I love when my best friend and my little brother are screaming at each other.  Feels like old times.  Can one of you cry now to complete the moment?”

Taehyung grumbles under his breath, something you can’t catch, and stalks off to his room.  The slam of his door reverberates in the apartment and Jin jumps and turns to yell down the hall at his brother-in-law.

“Yah! Don’t break my apartment! I still owe money on this!”

Despite Taehyung’s appearance every so often in the kitchen or living room, the rest of the night goes on with no annoying disturbances.

Jin spoils you and his husband with expensive food, and the best cheesecake you’ve ever eaten in your life.  Plus, you’re given the bowl to lick clean despite a desperately adorable pout from Namjoon you were sure would persuade Jin.

You’re settled on the couch, snuggling in the middle of the couple as an action movie flickers across the big screen tv.  Truthfully, you haven’t paid attention to a single thing happening, your thoughts entirely too absorbed in Taehyung and that deliciously infuriating kiss.  

Why did he do it?  You couldn’t comprehend his reasoning.  Perhaps he was doing it to piss you off.  He’s never angered you with that level of intimacy before, but you didn’t put it past him.

You’re surprised when the credits of the movie start rolling and Jin and Namjoon fake loud yawns.

“Oh man, I’m beat,” Namjoon lies.

Jin is quick to join. “Me too, I think I’ll pass out the moment I hit the pillow.”

You roll your eyes at the men. “Will you two please go fuck already, I know that’s what you’re going to do.”

Namjoon blanches, but Jin laughs and kisses your cheek. “Ah, my smart, beautiful and chaotic child,” he coos. He leans in to your ear, voice low to keep his husband from listening. “I don’t think I’m the only one in this house who’s going to get pounded into a mattress.”  

He pulls back and winks at you, deftly ignores Namjoon’s confusion and sadness of being left out, and drags him to their bedroom with a loud ‘goodnight’.

You’re left to stew in your own emotions, which is never a good thing.  Was the tension that obvious? You always assumed it had been one-sided, but the kiss befuddled you more than you’d like to admit.

It finally snapped in your mind, all the dots connecting. That’s why he did it.  

He kissed you so you’d stew and simmer and eventually erupt, like you’re doing now.  Taehyung knows you too well for your comfort.

You grab your bag of clothes and storm towards the bathroom to change, promising yourself to forget about the kiss and not give Taehyung what he wants.

Except you’re not very good at promises, especially to yourself.

You can’t say you’re excited to sleep on the couch again.  While it’s a nice couch, it’s definitely not a bed and your back will pay the price tomorrow.  You supposed it was better than the floor, but not by much.

After dressing in your pajamas, a purposefully picked out combination of tiny shorts and a sports bra in case Taehyung happens upon you, you return to your bed for the night in the living room.

Namjoon graciously left blankets and a pillow out for you, and you’re complaining internally about Taehyung the whole time you make yourself a spot to sleep.  If it wasn’t for stupid Taehyung and his stupid existence, you’d be sleeping like a baby on the guest bed that you loved.  But no, they relegated you to the couch like an animal.

Sleep was not in the cards tonight, it seems.  You toss and turn and try to press at the cushions to move a lump around and get comfortable, but it’s all for naught.  You’re wide awake and very, very uncomfortable.  You didn’t understand how you fell asleep on this very couch earlier in the day.  Maybe the mimosas you had at brunch with the couple had been helpful.

A thought crosses your mind. Alcohol.  Maybe a nice glass of wine would help tuck you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.  A nightcap. Of course.  You were angry at yourself for not thinking of it hours ago.  

You slipped out of your disagreeable bed and into the kitchen, trying not to make a sound.  Jin’s beloved kitchen was also an echo chamber of noise, even the slightest sound bouncing off its walls and amplifying it through the whole house.  You still remember the way you jumped five feet in the air when Jin accidentally broke a plate.  It sounded like a bomb explosion.

You bite your lip as you carefully pry the cabinet of wine glasses open, careful to not even allow a squeak of a hinge.  You silently beg to stay silent and not wake anyone in the house.  You didn’t want to be caught drinking wine at 2 am in the dark, that’s difficult to explain without looking like an alcoholic.

With glass in hand, you tiptoe the fridge to pull out the bottle of merlot, thinking the heavy red wine would be the best to get you sleepy and quick.  

You tug the cork from the bottle and pour a healthy amount into the stemware with a smile.  Liquid sleep.  And you had done it without making a single sound. Perfection. The smell of the alcohol permeates through your nose as you lift the glass, placing it to your lips to take a sip.

“Wine at this hour?” the unexpected voice of Taehyung echos through the kitchen, making you yelp and jolting you hard enough that you drop the hard-earned glass of wine to the tile floor, red wine splashing as the sound of glass shattering is reverberating off the walls.

“Fuck!” You screech at the intruder.  Taehyung doubles over, laughing as if he’s seen nothing funnier than what just transpired.  “You asshole!”

You listen past Taehyung’s incessant laughter to ensure the owners of the apartment hadn’t awoken during the ruckus. You definitely did not want to face a tired and agitated Jin to tell him you shattered one of his Tiffany crystal goblets.

Beyond Tae, the house is silent and you’re thanking whatever god is listening for keeping your best friends asleep.

The wine is everywhere, spilling into the cracks of the tile and splattered on the walls.  The crystal stemware is too; it shattered with such force that you see flecks of the shrapnel in all four corners of the room.

Tae wipes a tear from his face and you square a tempestuous look at him.  

“Fucking help me!  You made me drop it!”

Through snorts, he replies. “I didn’t make you do anything.  You did that on your own.”  Although he is arguing with you, he’s gingerly stepping into the kitchen and kneeling to pick up shards of glass.

“I wouldn’t have dropped it if you had come into the room like a fucking normal person,” you grit.

He collects the glass, the delighted grin on his face now permanent.  He’s relishing in your annoyance, you know he is, and it burns you from the inside out.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me.”

“You could have turned on the light! Why were you in the dark like a freak?”  You’re grasping at straws, anything to pin this all on him.  It would quell the fire in your belly to push it all onto him, make you feel as if you’ve won.

Taehyung levels a look at you.  “And you weren’t also in the dark? Pouring a gallon of wine for yourself?”

Your cheeks flare red. Fuck, he definitely caught you there.  You’re playing verbal poker with him and the hand you’re dealt falls flat compared to his royal flush.  He grins, knowing he has you.

“Fuck you,” you snark, you go to insult when you’re backed into a corner.

“Ah, doll,” he winks.  “We talked about that.  Be careful what you wish for.”

The fire inside you is roaring to an inferno now, flames licking to your core. It’s a complicated mixture of anger and sexual energy. It’s infuriating that he’s able to make you feel every single emotion to the extreme. You hate that arguing with him turns you on, like it’s some perverse foreplay.  

You moisten your lips with your tongue as you process his words, and Tae’s eyes hungrily track the appendage as it glides over your lips.

“Fuck. You.” You emphasize perfunctorily.

All thoughts of wiping up the mess are forgotten as Tae drags both you and himself off the floor and steers you to the living room, lips feverish against your own.  He pushes you into the couch and tugs his shirt off, before replacing his lips to yours.  

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot when you’re a bitch,” he groans as he snaps the strap of your sports bra. “Seeing you get all worked up makes me so hard.”

He’s not wrong. You can see through his mesh basketball shorts that he’s sporting an impressive package, rock hard in its clothed prison.

“Yeah?” You bite at his lip.

“Hell yeah.”  His hands work to the elastic band under your bust and tugs the offending material off, tits springing free as he throws it to the floor.  

“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathes as he gets a good look at your chest.

You shake them gently, grinning as he watches them jiggle.  “You like what you see?”

He smirks and pinches a nipple, wiping the coy smile off your face and turning it into a moan.  “I like when you’re mouthy, but don’t push it.”  

He lowers his head to the nipple he’s still pinching in his fingers, licking at it and replacing his fingers with his mouth.  He’s moaning around the nipple, and you’re gasping for more.  His hot mouth sucks at you, teeth nibbling and pulling it until you’re whimpering in delicious pain.

“Fuck!” He cries as he pops away from your nipple.  “You’re so fucking hot.”

Your body warms at his words, arousal pooling between your legs.  You’re sure that your thighs are drenched in your essence.

He slurps your neglected breast into his mouth, ensuring your nipples are equally abused.  His tongue is skilled but his mouth is messy, saliva dripping all around your tit and it’s the hottest fucking sight you’ve ever seen.

He’s pulling away again and pinching both nipples with his hands simultaneously. “And you’re so fucking annoying.”

You’re pleading for more or to stop, you’re not sure.  He continues.

“Mm, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re a good little bitch for me. Listening to every fucking thing I say.”

He releases your nipples, and you finally find the ability to focus again, staring directly at him.

“Oh, you think you’re that good?” you sass as you attempt to catch your breath.  “Put your money where your mouth is.”

Tae grips your chin roughly, face inches away from yours with a sadistic grin. “You’re going to regret those words, baby.”

Instantly, he’s standing up and tugging his shorts down to let his cock spring free.  Your brain misfires as you visually measure his cock and your mouth goes dry. He’s thick and long. The bulbous head is dripping pre-cum, begging you to slurp it up.

“How about I put my money where your mouth is,” he suggests as he grabs a fistful of your hair.  

He teasingly rubs his cock on your lips and cheeks, makes you whimper with need. Your tongue is sticking out, desperate for him to lay it on you.

“Already so fucking greedy,” he grunts and in one motion, directs his dick into your open mouth. “I’ll fuck your throat, yeah? Greedy bitches love getting face fucked.”  He is still for a beat more, eyes searching yours for consent and you nod with his cock still in your mouth. He winks, then begins a rapid pace, his cock fucking into your mouth and throat.

You’re sure you look like a goddamn mess with saliva dripping from your mouth as Taehyung punishes your throat with his thrusts.  You gag and moan around him, and he tightens his grip in your hair as you see stars.

It’s indescribable. Never have you felt such pleasure from sucking cock, but Tae commands your entire body, willing you to drip with anticipation.

“My little fuck toy, god you feel so fucking good,” he hisses. “You’re gonna swallow my cum, baby.”  

His hips are stuttering, he’s close, and you’re sucking him harder, cheeks pulling in harder to vacuum him in. The pressure makes him groan out loud.

“So good, so fucking good. Get ready for your prize, baby,” his voice cuts off in a gasp, as his cock twitches violently. His legs shake and he doesn’t hold back the moans of his orgasm, gasping as he feels rope after rope spill down your hot throat.

Your big doll eyes are twinkling up at him, lips still wrapped around his cock. Taehyung is sure it’s the hottest thing he’ll ever see in his lifetime.  You on your knees, subservient to him and thriving for it.

“Mmm, I like it when your mouth is full like this,” he slowly pulls out of your mouth, albeit reluctantly. “Can’t talk back to me when you’re sucking my cock like a whore.”

You smile and stick out your tongue, pleased to show him you happily accepted his cum.

“Good fucking girl,” he coos as he grips your chin again. “Did you like my cum?”

You nod, brain fried from the heat of the room.

“Use your words,” he grits and grips your jaw harder. It’s enough to shock you into compliance.

“Y-yes! Fuck, I love your cum, Tae.”  Your words are breathy and raspy, throat raw from his barrage.

“I knew you would, filthy slut.  Sit on the couch.” He orders and you’re quick to scurry and sit on the makeshift bed you made.

His hands are tugging down your shorts quickly. No teasing or seduction here, not now. You lift your hips, and he throws them aside. Your legs close on reflex, making him growl.

“Do not hide yourself from me.” His tone is dark and you can’t help but shiver as you open yourself up to him. You want to talk back, want to fight and bite at him, but you’re quickly losing the ability to even speak, and you’re aching for him.

“Where’s my mouthy little bitch? You’re awfully quiet. Did I finally break you?” He teases, pressing your legs upward, knees to your ears. It’s pornographic how on display you are for him, soaking wet cunt front and center.

“The great Taehyung thinks he can break me with his cock,” you mewl, mustering all the false confidence you can. You’re lying through your fucking teeth and you both know it, but you continue. “You’ll have to do more than that.”

Your pussy is quaking with need now, desperate for a single touch. His hands maintain purchase on the backs of your thighs, holding them up.

“There she is,” he bites at the flesh of your leg closest to him which makes you jerk in his hold. “Gonna fuck the brat right out of you.”

He removes a hand from your thigh and you’re quick to pick up the slack, holding the thigh in place to maintain his open show of your pussy.

“Try me,” you murmur, and you’re instantly regretting your words as a harsh slap descends and lands square on your cunt.

You nearly scream, pain flooding your wanton pussy, before turning into delicious pleasure that stings and tingles right at your clit. It sizzles, and warmth blooms where his hand was.

“That’s for not believing me.”  His eyes are feral and you want to bottle this memory forever.  

Another slap has your legs trembling, eyes rolling back as the burn turns to a low heat.  You’re dripping your wetness down onto the couch and Jin will kill you, but you don’t care.

“That was for calling me a dick,” he smirks.

Smack.

Tears spring in your eyes as the slap brings more pleasure than pain, desperately close to your edge.

“Look at you, you could cum just from this, couldn’t you?”

“F-fuck! Yes, please, I need more, please!” Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for friction and leaking out of you like a faucet. Taehyung marvels at you, legs spread so far, with a cunt weeping with arousal for more. He can’t wait to dive in there, but he’s not finished with you yet.

“More? I don’t know if you deserve more, baby, you’ve been awfully mean to me,” he tsks, breathing hot air on your clit, making you whine.

“P-please! I’m sorry!” You’re sure you will black out with how desperately you need him. You need him more than you need oxygen.

“Beg.”

You’re quick to submit. Thoughts of fighting back are long gone, you’re his wanton little slut now.

“Please, please! Pleaseeeee, make me cum! I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He asks with an arch of his eyebrow.

You’re nodding wildly, gazing at him with desperate, watery eyes.

“Anything, I need you so f-fucking bad it hurts!”

By the time the words leave your lips, he’s thrusting two fingers into your cunt viciously, fingering you ferociously. He arches them, rubbing against your spongy g-spot and making you scream. He knows you’re close, knows you only need one little push off the edge. He plays your body like a skilled practitioner.

“Cum on my fingers, baby. Let me see my greedy little bitch milk my fingers.”

Your body and mind react accordingly, deep down you know your body is owned completely by him, all his.  Your orgasm explodes and you think you actually scream, your vision is black and your hearing goes silent for a moment as you cum harder than you have in your life.  You’re squeezing his fingers with your pussy so tight and Taehyung is gently licking all the juices from his hand with his fingers still inside you.

It takes time to descend from the separate plane of existence Taehyung sent you too, but you come back and watch as he laps at the liquid of your cunt and on his hand like it’s a vital necessity. His fingers remain in your walls, and he refuses to break eye contact with you. You’re positive you could cum again from the sight.

“My little cockslut tastes so good, just how I like,” he tells you tenderly. “Like cherries, so sweet.  My little cherry.”

Your cunt is aching and warming back to life as he pulls his fingers out of you. The loss is immense and you’re whimpering for more.

“Ah, ah,” he hushes you. “No whining. You’ll take what I give you.  Suck my fingers clean. Taste yourself.”

He presses his fingers into your mouth, earning him a sigh, the taste of you filling your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and suckle each one to ensure your tongue laves the entire surface.

“Fuck,” he whispers and it’s his first crack in his steel reserve. “Needy.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and presses against you to kiss. It’s gentle, sweet, and nothing compared to the man assailing your pussy with slaps moments ago. It thrills you just the same and you return in kind, threading your hands in his wavy hair.

He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, a moment of gentleness you actively welcome.

“This little cunt ready for me?” He whispers and you’re whimpering your reply.

“Please, fuck me. I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your lips again, sweet and chaste, before he pulls away and slides down to attach those same sinful lips to your pussy.

It’s so unexpected you flinch and manage a cry as his tongue slurps up more of your delicious essence and his mouth moves to suckle on your clit. You’re not sure where the fuck he learned these tricks, but you know now you will never let him go.

“Taehyung!” You cry at the sensation. “Fuck!”

After receiving the reaction he was desperate for, he slips his tongue into your walls deep and gathers as much of you as he can, before he’s pulling back and swallowing you down.

“I couldn’t resist. Your cunt was made for me to devour.”

He doesn’t allow for a response as he throws your legs over his shoulders and lines himself up at your core.

“Condom?” He asks you, and you level a quick look at him.

“I don’t live here! I don’t have any!”  You’re savage, terrified he’ll pull his cock away when all you want and can think about is the way he’ll feel pounding into you.

“Don’t be rude, baby,” he reminds you with a swat to your ass. “I’m clean, promise. You?”

You nod quickly, reveling in the spank’s tingle. “Same. I have an IUD too,” you sigh. Thank god for medical birth control implants.

“Good. You’re the only pussy I’m gonna fuck from now on,” he promises. You know you must talk about this later, when you’re thinking rationally and not with your aching pussy.  

Your heart stutters and leaps into your throat but all is forgotten as he plunges into your tight heat.

“Ohhhhh shit, ahhh,” he gasps. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight and wet.”  He’s on the verge of whining, becoming just as needy and greedy as you.  He wastes no time in setting a pace.

His cock fills you completely, his angle allowing him to go as deep as he can, pressing the beginning of your cervix.  This is surely what heaven feels like.  It feels like the completeness you feel with Taehyung fully sheathed inside you.

It comes alive with flames and explosions as he fucks you, hips pistoning to plunge in and out of you with tenacity.  He fucks you like he laces every single thrust with more, more than just sex. He fucks you with purpose.

You’re moaning like a pornstar now, high pitch wails and gasps and breathy moans are all you can manage. “Taehyung, yes! Feel so g-g-good!”

“That’s right baby, scream my fucking name. Make sure all the neighbors know who fucking ruined you,” he nearly spits, cock thrusting into your core at an impossible speed. “I want you to tell all of Korea who owns you. Who owns this tiny little cunt?”

The wind leaves you, and you’re gasping for air, gaping mouth open as you try to reply. It takes him fucking into you harder a few times before you feel it rush back into you.

“You, Taehyung!  You!  Fuck, I love your cock!”

His thumb rubs at your engorged clit, allowing it the friction it seeks.  He bends forward and wraps his other hand around your throat, squeezing.  

Losing air combined with the friction on your clit has you keening, so close to the edge. You try to babble his name but nothing comes out.

“Look at my pretty little slut taking my cock so well,” he praises.  “You have the greediest pussy, don’t you? You need my cock daily, baby. Need to put my mouthy bitch in her place, remind her who’s in charge.”

He slows his pace but his thrusts are punishing, fucking into you as hard as he can. Your orgasm is climbing so impossibly high.

“F-fuck!” You gasp as he releases his grip on your neck. “Gonna cum! Please let me cum!”  

“Yeah baby, cum for me.  Cream your greedy pussy all over my cock.”

The world stops spinning as you hit the height of your climax and plunge down.  Your vision goes black and your body is quivering and convulsing nearly as hard as your cunt is. Taehyung hisses at your walls sucking him in, as if you’re begging for his cum, begging for more.

“Fuck, good girl, baby, holy shit,” he’s breathless and so close.

You’re overstimulated, boneless, but he wrought two of the best orgasms you’ve ever felt in your life and you’ll be damned if you leave him high and dry.  You bite your lip as you move with him, hips pounding against each other. His face is scrunched up and you know he’s close when he’s stuttering on his words.  You take over for him.

“Please cum in me baby, please.  Fill me up. I’m yours, baby, mark my little cunt as yours.”  You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you keep it going. It feels as natural as fucking him does. “Please, Taehyung!”

At the sound of his name leaving you in a whine, he spirals down his own completion. He feels his cock pulse as he empties his load into you, your walls still reverently beckoning for him. He’s calling out your name, grasping at your tits as he finishes and you’re smiling from ear to ear. Your pussy is warm with his seed and you’re positive it’s the way you want to feel every single night.

“Holy fuck,” Taehyung rasps as he pulls his cock out of you. He thrills as he watches his cum follow, slipping out your folds and down your thigh. “I definitely marked you.”

You hum in reply, finally allowing yourself to soak in the haze of orgasmic bliss. Tae presses his head to yours again, kissing you sweetly.

“Come sleep in my bed?” He asks. He means more behind it. He wants to ask you to sleep in his bed every night, stay with him every day, be the one he grows old with. He knows there’s still more to talk about, wounds of the past to heal, but now you’re with him, and he knows he’ll work through anything.

You nod, and kiss him again, understanding his hidden meaning laced in his words.

A sly smile spreads across his face. “Last one to bed has to take the blame for the wineglass,” he teases. Your head spins as if you’ve got whiplash.  He can switch from dominating to sensitive to the little shit he is so quick.

“Hey! No fucking fair! You fucked my ability to run out of me!”

“Shouldn’t have been such a sassy bitch,” he winks before he tears away towards his room.

“Taehyung, you’re an asshole!” You call as you limp your way behind him.

From behind Joon and Jin’s door, a critical voice bellows, “YAH! I’ll kill you if you got your jizz on my couch! And what is this I heard about my glass!!? HEY!  Those are TIFFANY. CRYSTAL. THE DISRESPECT!”

You slip into Taehyung’s bed and wrap yourself around him, the two of you gasping with mischievous giggles.

Kim Taehyung will always be the one who knows how to drive you wild. He’ll always aggravate and infuriate you, send you reeling.

But now you didn’t think you minded it at all.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[malereader-inserts]

Something Worthwhile

Fandom: BBC Sherlock Pairing: Mycroft Holmes & Brother!Reader & Sherlock Holmes Summary: It’s hard being a Holmes sometimes, especially when you’re alone Word Count: 1,470 Request: Holmes brother who is having difficulties fitting in with his two smart, intelligent and brilliant brothers. He feels left out and alone and ends up isolating himself further. Somehow John is the only one who notices this but Sherlock and Mycroft dont believe him because they dont think a Holmes brother is capable of such feelings so John has to properly lecture them on feelings and stuff and then they search for reader and help him out of the slums. Sorry if this is too long A/n: Y’all be linking brotherly holmes stuff.

“I could be greater.”

John looks at you, at the doorway, watching you stretch your back, moving boxes surrounding you. You get out a groan at the sweet release of stress leaving your tense muscle, clicking parts of your body as John just stares at you.

He came to visit, check up on you, you had been awfully quiet for a while and he got worried. What he had not expected to see you packing your belonging to move houses. 

“What?” He looks at you confused as you looked at him, a smile but it wasn’t comforting.

It was a smile of tiredness, you shrugged your shoulders.

“I could be greater, you know? Compared to Sherlock and Mycroft, I could be painfully greater.”

“You’re already great.”

“Are you sure? I can hardly keep up with Sherlock and Mycroft, one of them is one of the greatest detectives and the other one is working with the Government. And me?” You scoffed, shaking your head, “I’m not as great as them.”

“So, you’re moving?”

“Uh, isn’t that obvious?”

John looks around, you’re a lot human, easier to relate to as a Holmes. But, he understands to be the odd one out. He can’t fault you for feeling that. He asks you if you need help, you smile and shake your head, waving he off. John tells you that he’s off, if you ever need him he’s only a phone call away - you looked grateful for that.

After that, he doesn’t see you or hear from you. He goes to check your old apartment, it’s cleared out, empty almost as if it’s getting ready to get renovated. It was abandoned and the warmth you gave the house, was washed away. John doesn’t know what you’re thinking, but you’ve disappeared.

It worries John.

You hated your brothers, just as much as you love them. They were ahead of the game, ahead of life. They’re producing such brilliant works, but you were left behind. You were three steps ahead of the game but your brothers were nine steps ahead. You were walking with life, whilst your brothers are running past it. You could never be your brothers, and it was hard for you to understand that.

Your mother and father have had high expectations after both Mycroft and Sherlock being ahead of their classes, they expected you to be the same. But, you weren’t. You were top of the class, but that hardly meant anything to them. It got tiring to try to keep up with them.

So, you found yourself a place, across London, furthest away from Sherlock’s apartment. It was small but cosy, it was your safe space, plants everywhere, handing from the ceiling, all content in your loving presence. Your cat that lounges around the house currently draped over the back of the sofa. 

The living room was clashing with different colour, but you like that, it was vibrant, you don’t do dull things. If you’re going to take your time with life then you might as well think the world is in bright colours like an indie filter on Instagram. 

You have to romanticise your little life if it means to distract you from your brothers. That means thinking every time you cook, you have to believe you’re in a Studio Ghibli movie, where all the food looks mouth-watering.

You were happier, being away, isolating yourself away. 

It doesn’t settle well with John. 

So, when he had returned home from work and saw both Holmes brothers, he sat them down, his arms crossed over his chest looking angry at them. Though, to Sherlock that’s how John looks all the time. He gave them a good earful, even Mrs Hudson went upstairs to investigate what was happening. Even she gave her own opinion as well.

But, with both brothers, they took nothing in.

They look at them blankly.

“That’s not (Y/n),” Sherlock breaks the silence with a chuckle, a smile that could freak anyone out, but John was too pissed off with him that he wanted to punch it off.

“Yes, our brother is fine, but I do thank you for the concern,” Mycroft says politely as he flinches at John’s intense glare, “Anyway, (Y/n) doesn’t feel that, if he was, he would have told us.”

“Really?” John asked, scoffing, shaking his head with an unsettling chuckle that made both Holmes brother sit upright, “Why would he tell you what he’s feeling when you constantly dismissing him when he feels anything but confidence?”

“I-”

The brothers wanted to intervene, but this has ticked John off beyond belief. It had prompted him to rant to them that both brothers were afraid to interrupt because after all, John was making sense for once. For once, an average smart man was talking so intelligently that they felt like they were reduced to nothing.

“He tells you that his emotions have been overwhelming, you tell him to get over it. When he can barely get out of bed because he feels like the world is resting upon his shoulders you tell him to grow a thicker skin. When he cries, you tell him its a sign of weakness, he looks for his brothers for guidance but his brothers tell him to look for it himself.”

“John-”

“For God’s sake, he told me he was in therapy because he doesn’t want to tell you because you’d see him as a disappointment. He’s trying so hard and every achievement he does - it gets brushed under the rug. He thinks he has already disappointed your mother and father, God only knows what he’s thinking now to know that his brothers have abandoned him.”

“But, we haven’t,” Sherlock mutters out so softly, John could tell that he was ashamed in himself.

“I don’t even know where he is. He hasn’t been picking up my calls or replying to my messages, I don’t know where he moved.”

“He moved?” Mycroft asked, astounded, as John sighs.

John rubs his forehead, hand on his hip, looking exhausted and stress. Nodding sheepishly. John has been trying hard to locate you but London is a big city with various different apartments. He doesn’t know if you had moved far from your old place, he doesn’t have a brain like the Holmes, he couldn’t deduce where you intend to go.

“Yeah, so while to try to find him. Both of you are going to think of a good apology.”

“How are you so calm? He could have killed hi-”

“He told me that he wouldn’t do that because the thought of his cat thinking he had abandoned her hurts him more than ending it all.”

With a statement like that, the brothers wonder how bad they caused your pain.

Sherlock and Mycroft walk up to your apartment, the stairs were nice - both brothers noticed, you like that because you hated stairs, especially steep ones. They knocked on your door, hoping it was you on the other side.

They can hear your record player playing some songs, though with the door shut it was hard to tell what was playing. They knock again, before hearing your footsteps and the door opening.

“Why are you here?” You asked, your brothers hurt with no greeting and no smile to come along with it.

“John expressed his concerns,” Mycroft says, swallowing his pride, “It has made up realise that we have-”

“We have fucked up as brothers,” Sherlock completed.

“Charming,” Mycroft mutters bitterly.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” You were about to slam the door but Sherlock was strong enough to keep the door open with just the strength of his left arm, “Leave me alone.”

“No, we’re not leaving until we fix our mess. We’re brothers, our parents have given us hell and it’s not fair for you to go through their hell all by yourself,” Sherlock says firmly before eyes softening, “Please (Y/n).”

“You don’t have to talk, you can just listen,” Mycroft says as a compromise, to meet you in the middle, “We know that you’re not going to forgive us right away, but, we don’t want you to be alone again.”

You stand there in silence, before huffing out, opening the door wider and standing to the side. Your brothers entering your home; it smells a lot like you. You shut the door behind them, your cat seeing your brothers and instantly stretching and walk towards you. 

Jumping up in your arms, your cat stares his sharp glaring eyes towards your brothers as if he was warning them.

Your brothers seemed unsettled as they sit down, they’re not prepared for the talk ahead of them. They don’t expertise in the subject of feelings and relating to others, but if it means to keep you around longer.

It’s something worthwhile to do.

[binnie-huaisang]

Silly Fight

Genre: angst, fluff(?

Pairing: Chan × reader

Words: 3.4 k

TW: Mental health issues, depression.

Also, this came out a little darker that I intended and by the end I didn’t have the heart to give it the final I was actually going to write, BUT if you wanna read the original ending I was planning, you can look for the “alternative” version in my blog where I added the original ending because apparently I like to make myself cry (:

Note: I'm sorry if there are some spelling or grammar mistakes, or if some expressions just don't make sense. English isn't my first language, but I promise I'm trying my best.

Chan and you started dating a few years ago, of course nobody knew that, except for your friends and his family.

At the beginning of the relationship you were really nervous all the time, always scared to make a bad movement or saying something that could maybe make him uncomfortable. That, and the fact that you didn’t even live in the same country, had you worried every moment of every day. You had always been an overthinker, and this certainly did no better to your condition.

However, things were going great, and it wasn’t too long for the little voices in your head to notice that. It was almost as if Chan and you were meant for eachother. It wasn’t like anything you had experienced before. Your relationship was one of those that you can only find in fairytales, and you knew that it was because both of you were so in love that every thing that could seem as a problem for other people, meant nothing to you.

Even with the distance, you would always be there for eachother. Every time he was getting frustrated over work or you were having a bad time because of college, you  would always be there to give support to the other.

Even if your personalities were very different, you barely fought, and it wasn’t because you weren’t able to see the other’s defects or mistakes, but because you knew that they were part of the person you loved and, in a certain way, you also had fallen for those things.

Yes, both of you were completely different worlds, but somehow, you made it work. Even after taking that big step that was making your relationship official, everything kept being the exact same way. Now, it wasn’t only your loved ones who would always tell you that you were basically soulmates, but also his fans and comrades.

Everything was just perfect, or at least it was until that afternoon…

You were visiting Chan after a few months of not seeing each other and, as usual, he took you to that coffee shop that was near his company building.

He was trying his best to act like everything was okay and that nothing was bothering him, but you knew him more than anyone in the world, and you could tell that something was off.

“Babe, is something bothering you?” you asked while caressing his hand over the table.

He saw the concern behind your eyes and that only made the guilt inside of him grow. He didn’t wanna do it, he knew it would end really bad for both of you, but he knew that if he didn’t tell you, someone else would, and that would be even worse.

“Everything’s alright angel” he lied. “Let’s eat, the food will get cold”, and there it was, that smile, the one that he uses every time something is bothering him but he doesn’t wanna tell you.

“Chan”, you called, making him look up to you. He could hardly look at you in the eye without getting nervous. He knew a fight was coming, and he was doing everything he could to hold it over. He was really trying, but he felt so guilty for being the reason for your concern.

Suddenly, the image of you crying in his bed popped into his mind. It was the first time he ever saw you cry, and no one could put in words how guilty and broken he felt for knowing that he was the reason behind it. Apparently you saw one of those mean comments people make on social media about him and you couldn’t resist it. 

You were the kind of person that never cared about what others said about you, but as soon as someone said something about your loved ones, it was on.

That was one of the hardest days for both of you. You were trying to give comfort words to each other, but it was useless. You could still not understand why would people be so mean towards the best person you’ve ever met, the one who was always there for anyone that needed some help. On the other hand, he would never forgive himself for making you cry. He knew it was because of him, and he was feeling so mad for making the one he loved suffer in that way. You were his whole world, his motivation on the hard days and his celebration partner on the best ones. 

You were everything he could’ve dreamed of, in his eyes you were just perfect, and the fact that he hurt you in some way was something that would never happen again. Or at least that was what he thought.

“Chan? Chan!” Your voice brought him back to reality. “Listen, I don’t know what’s happening, but you know you can tell me everything”.

“Well… Actually, there is something I need to tell you…” He finally said and you nodded. “I was talking with some people from the company the other day and… They asked me to talk to you about some things related to your podcast”.

Chan looked at you, examining every inch of your face, looking for any movement or expression that could let him know what you were thinking, but it was useless. Your expression was completely neutral.

However, in your head things were very different. You weren’t stupid, of course you knew what he was about to say. 

You and your best friend, Santiago, had a podcast where you would talk about random stuff, it could be mental health issues, cartoons, movies, or even political complains, it was basically two friends just talking to each other. This podcast had existed even before you knew Chan and it didn’t seem like there was a problem about it until some people of Chan’s company asked him to tell you that you should stop joking about your mental health online because it gave a “bad image”.

That happened just a couple months ago and you were still mad. Anyone who knew you knew that was your coping mechanism and they had the audacity to ask you to stop doing it. Of course you could just refuse to do it, but you didn’t want any problems, besides, after talking with Santiago, you both agreed that there were some comments that could actually be a trigger to some of your audience, so you ended up agreeing.

“What is it?” Your face could be inexpressive, but your voice revealed all the annoyance you were feeling.Of course, Chan noticed that and it only made him more nervous. He really didn't want to do it, he knew it was unfair, but he had to tell you.

“Well… It’s actually a very stupid thing, you will probably laugh when you hear it because it´s really stupid-”

“Just tell me” you said, cutting off  the babbling of the slightly scared boy that was sitting across from you.

“They say you should stop swearing so much”.

Chan was right, you did laugh, but it wasn’t for the reason he expected. You were so done with them. As much as you always hated the control they had over Chan, you could kind of understand it since he worked for them, but you didn’t, and the fact that they were trying to have control over you and your friend was unacceptable.

“You know what? I’m going to talk with them, I’m fucking done”. You said getting up from your seat. Even when you were keeping your voice in a low tone, some people turned because of the sudden move.

“Babe!” Chan took your wrist in his hand before you could start walking away. He didn’t say anything, but by the look in his eyes, you knew he wanted you to stay there and talk about it, and so you did.

“It’s just that… It’s so stupid!” You said a little more relaxed. 

“I know baby” Chan comforted you by caressing your left cheek.

“I mean, I would consider changing something if it made you uncomfortable, but I shouldn’t have to change because some people that don’t even know me think that I ‘swear’ a lot”.

“Well…” The panic showed on his face as soon as he realized what he had done.“

‘Well’?” You raised a brow. “So you think they’re right’“

“No! Of course not! I’m just saying that maybe you do swear in moments where it’s not completely necessary”. Despite his previous intent of calm you down, he was having some stressful days and he was beginning to feel tired.

“But that’s the way I talk!”

“Well, maybe the way you talk does give a bad image!”

“Oh, because I clearly care so much for my image! Why do you care anyways? You’re not even in the podcast!”

Chan let out a sarcastic laugh. “What did you say before? That you would consider changing something if it made me uncomfortable? Go ahead then, change it! Oh, wait. You won’t, because you are so used to people agreeing with you that whenever someone disagrees you just ignore it!”

You stared at him with a stunned look. Something inside you knew that none of you were thinking straight and that maybe you should stop, but you were so mad at him for agreeing with the people that were trying to control you, that you ignored that little voice.

“First of all, why do you all complain about it so much? Whenever I say a bad word or ‘swear’ or however you wanna call it, I do it in my first language, you don’t even understand what I’m saying so shut the fuck up! And second, it doesn’t even make sense that you are telling me that you are bothered because of my language! I never swear around you because I know that your holy ears bleed everytime someone says ‘fuck’. Why don’t you just tell me that you are so scared of them that you need to be a total jerk to me in order to make them happy?”

“Oh, so now I’m being a jerk? You know what? Maybe I am scared of them, but you are being selfish! You are not even thinking about how this can affect me!”

“Pleeease!” You said with a sarcastic laugh. “You’re no one to talk about it! You were the one who pushed me into revealing our relationship because ‘you didn’t want to hide anything from your fans’“ You mocked. “I wasn’t prepared and you still made me appear in front of a camera! You didn’t care what it would do to me, so don’t talk to me about being selfish!”

You could feel the tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You always tried to ignore the bad comments since they were minimum, but sometimes you couldn’t help being affected by them, especially when you were already having bad times.

“You know I’m sorry for that”. Chan said recovering from the sudden anger. He knew that he made a mistake by throwing you to the world like that and there wasn’t a day he didn’t regret it. 

“Well, that doesn’t make the death threats disappear”. As much as you tried to hold them, you felt the tears finally scape.

Chan was speechless, he wanted to say something, to hug you and say sorry for everything, but he couldn’t move. He was just there, sitting while he watched you fall apart. And the worst part was yet to come…

“I- I don’t care about this. I don’t care about those stupid coments and I wouldn’t care about  what your stupid bosses tell you if it wasn’t beacuse it’s always me who has to do or change something” Your voice was barely a whisper, but Chan could hear every single word. “My grades have been getting down, you know?” A sad smile painted your face. “I’ve been feeling bad for months and I cannot pay attention to my lessons. To be honest, I don’t even know if I like my career anymore, but I can’t quit, I don’t want to. I keep telling to myself ‘maybe it’s not the career, it’s just my depression, I’ll be fine in a few days’, but I’m not fine and I’ve been wanting to look for help but therapy is fucking expensive”.

Chan was looking at you completely devastated. He never knew you were feeling bad. Of course he knew about your depression, but you once told him that you’ve been feeling alright for more than a year now. How stupid he was for not noticing. He wanted to ask you why you didn’t say anything, why would you hide such important things, but, once again, he didn’t.

“The money I earn… I use everything to come here to see you because you are not allowed to visit me” You said in a more bitter tone than you intended. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming you, I know this is your job but… It can be a little exhausting to be the one who always has to adapt, to be the strong one. I never say anything because I love you so much and I know I should support you because the path you chose is already hard enough but… I’m just… tired. I’m tired of everything”.

You didn’t even have time to react when your boyfriend got up from his seat and walked around the table to kneel in front of you and wrap his arms tightly around your waist. The initial shock fading as you heard his muffled crying on your chest. You were trying to comfort him by caressing his hair, but it was useless. After a few minutes, when both of you felt that the sobs of the other were fading, Chan finally looked up at you, sending a wave of guilt through your body as you saw his still teary eyes. 

Before you could say anything, he gave you a soft and long kiss on the forehead. The kiss was so full of love and emotions that it made you tear once again.

“I’m so sorry” He said with a raspy voice. “I’m such an asshole for not noticing. You’re always there for me and I just-”

“Shhh” You interrupted by caressing his cheek. “None of this is your fault. I shouldn’t have brought up the subject, this wasn’t the time to do it”.

“Hey, don’t say that!” Chan said as he lifted your chin to meet his eyes. “You’re right, I guess I’m taking more than what I’m giving, but this stops now. I will talk with my manager to see if he can fix something, and as for your therapy… I will pay for it”.

“Of course not!” You said with wide eyes. “I’m the one who has to handle this, I’ll find the way”.

“Angel, you don’t have to go through this by yourself, you have me now and I will not leave you alone… Not again”.

And with that said, he held you in his arms once again pulling you as closer as he could as if he feared you’d disappear at any moment. After a few seconds, you heard your boyfriend’s muffled voice again.

“Don’t say that again”.

“What?”

“That you are tired of everything, don’t say that. If you say that you’re tired of me, that you’re tired of college… I can take it, but please don’t say you’re tired of everything”. His words made you suddenly go pale. You didn't expect him to understand the meaning of your words, but he did. Even if you never told him the full story because you were so scared of him dismissing the matter, he knew you were struggling with something ever since you were a child. In fact, he knew more than you tought. 

As far as you knew, he was always very busy to listen to your podcast, but that was only partially true, since he did use to listen to some of the chapters. One of them was the one where you and Santiago were talking about the importance of mental health and how people should always ask for help if they feel like there’s something that’s not working as it should. In that chapter you talked a little bit about your experience with depression and you mentioned… Something. Something that you almost did in middle school. Of course, Santiago didn’t seem surprised, since he already knew about it and he only reassured you that you weren’t alone anymore, but for Chan, knowing about that situation really shocked him. Of course he never told you anything since he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but ever since he found out about this… Situation, he would find himself thinking about it in the most unexpected moments of the day. 

After thinking about what would be the best answer to the sudden request, you decided that a simple nod would be the only thing that wouldn’t make you burst into tears again, so that’s what you did.

“I still don’t want you to pay for my therapy tho” You said with a tired smile after your boyfriend had broken the hug just to start playing with your hands.

“We’ll talk about it later, angel” He said, smiling back at you, but this time it wasn’t a sarcastic or a nervous smile, it was a real one. “Now, why don’t we go back to the apartment? I will cook something delicious for you”.

“But we already have food here!” You said, letting out a little giggle at the ridiculous proposal.

You could see how the red color of his cheeks and ears became more intense before he leaned toward one of yours. “To be honest… I don’t know if I feel comfortable eating in a room full of people that saw me crying just a few instants ago”.

A sincere laugh escaped your lungs. You hadn’t thought about it until he pointed it out and he was right, it was kind of embarrassing. After a few more giggles from both of you because of the whole situation, you found yourselves walking towards the entrance while holding hands. It was weird, you knew that for most people, having that kind of discussion could've ended in so much pain, and even a breakup, but you weren’t like most people. Chan meant the world to you and you were the love of his life, which meant that he would not back down and he would not let anyone hurt you, even if that someone was you.

You were already walking down the street when you suddenly remembered something.

“Baby?” He looked at you with a sweet simile. “You don’t know how to cook”.

“Well, maybe by ‘cooking something for you’ I meant supervising the people who will actually cook for you”.

“Channie!” You whined, a little worried that his friends will get tired and refuse to keep cooking for you one of these days.

“It’s alright! Felix loves cooking for you! And Lino loves having you around, why would he refuse?” And there they were, the beautiful dimples you’ve been missing for so long. 

You stared at his face for a few moments and before he could ask why had you stopped walking, you planted a quick kiss on his right dimple, followed by a sweet peck on his lips.

You laughed at the flustered boy standing in front of you, your smile only getting wider as you felt him holding you by your waist and pulling you closer so he could hide his already red face in the curve of your neck.

“I love you _____“ He murmured, sending shivers down your spine and making you feel butterflies in your chest.

“And I love you, my angel“

“Hey! That’s my nickname for you“ He pouted.

“I know baby, but you truly are an angel to me“ “Stopthisatonceifyoudon’twantmetokissyoualloveryourbeautifulfaceohmygodIloveyoumuch“ You giggled again, barely being able to listen to his muffled words since his face had already found its way back to your neck.

“Channie… I’m sorry for starting that silly fight…”

“Hey, stop it! You had all the right to be mad! And it wasn’t a ‘silly fight‘. Actually, I’m kind of grateful that it happened, since it made me know how you were feeling”.

You were about to complain, but before you could, he planted a quick kiss on your hand and dragged you towards his body, making you get back to the pathway. “Let’s go angel! The faster we get there, the faster I will be able to start begging Minho to cook something for us”.

Hi! I’m sorry if this is too bad, this is my first time writing a short fic and it’s also the first time I write something this long only in english. If there are any grammar mistakes that you can find, feel free to send me a DM and correct me (:

©  binnie-huaisang 2021 All rights reserved. Translating or reposting is not allowed. 

[buckyownsmylife]

Can’t seem to make you mine - Massimo Torricelli smut

The one where someone makes the mistake of hitting on you in front of Massimo.

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex, dirty talk, curse words.

A/N: This is... not my best work. Sorry. I was so excited to write about Don Massimo, mostly because everytime I read/watch something that I feel like it’s poorly written, I have the urge to correct it in someway or another. But alas, I’m tired, unmotivated and in a lot of pain. So I’m trying to keep this up as best as I can. Day 8 of kinktober, the prompts were possessiveness and knowing someone can hear you.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I knew things would go south the second I felt Lucca’s eyes on me for the first time. We’d barely stepped inside the house where the dinner was being held, and I shivered despite the comfortable temperature of the environment.

It wasn’t the exciting kind of shiver, either, the one Massimo could elicit in me without trying. It was the one that appeared when we were certain that something bad was going to happen, like a premonition in itself, trying to warn us away from whatever course of action we’d decided for the evening.

Except this particular evening wasn’t in my hands. I hadn’t been the one to plan it and had only come after a lot of insistence on Massimo’s part, after he whined about having to spend the night away from me because of some stupid business dinner and that if I didn’t go, he might as well give up the whole ordeal and skip on the meeting himself.

I knew he was playing dirty, but at the same time, I loved the idea that he just needed me that much. So I put on a simple red dress and accompanied him into the house of one of his oldest associates, ready to be bored out of my mind as the men discussed numbers or murders behind closed doors while the women and other guests mingled and drank the night away. 

The problem was that I didn’t have any friends amongst the other people invited, having long ago been ostracized by the trophy wives and sugar babies when they realized I actually had a job and didn’t depend on Massimo for a living. So all I had to keep me company was the bartender hired for the evening and whatever amount of whiskey I could drink before Massimo decided to leave.

“Not the kind of drink I expected to see a woman like you enjoying.” Fourteen words and I already felt like puking. I didn’t bother to turn to look at him as I rolled my eyes to the polite man behind the counter, who simply gave me a sympathetic smile.

“Oh, well. The more you know,” was all I said, keeping my voice distant and detached as I twirled the liquid in my hands and prayed to the heavens the blond man by my side decided to give up before Massimo noticed him standing too close.

“Yes, well… I would very much like to know more of you.” Fuck. I really was gonna have to be upfront about it.

Sighing, I finally turned to stare at the man I’d been briefly introduced to after arriving.

“And I’m sorry to report that the interest isn’t reciprocated, but I’m here with Massimo and for Massimo, so if you can just leave me be, I’d greatly appreciate that.” Lucca blinked a few times, his pretty little smile almost falling from his face, like he didn’t actually expect to be dismissed.

There was something off about the whole situation. I could understand hitting on a girl without knowing she had a date, maybe when she had one, if you thought you could take on the guy, but he’d seen me with Massimo. Did he not know who my boyfriend was? Was he somehow unafraid of Don Torricelli? 

Both ideas sounded ludicrous, and it only made my skin crawl with mistrust. Just what was this guy’s endgame? Despite the momentary break in his mask, he quickly returned to his wanna-be charming self, his predatory smile still directed at me.

“Well, he’s not here now, is he? I’m sure he wouldn’t even notice if you followed me upstairs and…” I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done and Lucca was staring back at me with his mouth hanging open, the whiskey that was once in the glass in my hands now dripping from his expensive suit.

The chatter all around the room had stopped, too, everyone’s eyes on us as I tried very hard to control my own breathing. The nerve of this man, thinking I would EVER consider cheating on Massimo, much less with someone as sleazy as him!

“Principessa?” I heard my boyfriend’s voice approaching, but I was still trembling from the anger running in my veins. “What is going on, my love?” Massimo’s hands engulfed me, wrapping themselves around my body before pulling my back to meet his chest, and for the first time since he had left me to talk to his partners, I felt myself becoming calmer. 

“This man thought he could seduce me,” I explained coldly, my eyes still connected to Lucca’s as he wiped the drink from his face with a handkerchief the bartender had produced from behind the counter. I was expecting to see fear appear in his face, or at least for him to lose some of the vivacity that was still behind his eyes, but when no change appeared other then the loss of his smile, since his lips were now pressed together in a tight line, I was left even more confused.

“Is that so?” Massimo asked, clicking his tongue from behind me, his fingers possessively holding onto my hips. I could hear that at least he was amused by the situation, from the tone of his voice, but I had no idea why. “Will you look at that? I’m sorry to disappoint you, Lucca, I’m sure you’ll find someone else to fuck away your resentment towards me later tonight. For now, excuse me and my girlfriend, I wanna make sure that she’s okay.”

My boyfriend’s reaction was so unexpected to me that he practically had to drag me away from the living room where all eyes were still on us, taking me to one of the hallways where I assumed the bathrooms were located.

“Massimo!” I whisper-shouted, absolutely frazzled by his and everyone else’s behavior that evening. “What the hell is going on?” But Massimo didn’t seem in the least worried about my own confusion, his eyes drinking me in against the maroon walls of the hallways with even more desire than earlier in the evening, when I had to force him to leave our bedroom so we could make it on time for this dinner. “Massimo!” I tried again, finally breaking him from his trance as he blinked twice before connecting his eyes with mine, licking his lips.

“What was it, baby girl? You really look delectable tonight, have I told you that before?” He answered, leaning over me until I was trapped between his body and the wall, my irritation suddenly disappearing to give place to the instinctive desire that filled my body everytime Massimo came near me. Especially when he was nuzzling on my neck like he was doing right at that moment.

“Yes, you have. Massimo, what’s going on?” I asked, suddenly startled by the realization that he was working on opening his belt. “What are you doing? Massimo, we can’t do this here!” I admonished him, but he already had a grip over himself, his other hand swiftly looking for my panties before pushing it away and plunging a thick finger inside of me, checking my wetness.

“Oh, we can and we will. You know why, principessa?” He picked me up like I weighed nothing, and I wrapped my legs around him instinctively, my head falling back against the wall as one of his hands rubbed the thick head of his cock against my clit. “Because you are mine.”

Feeling Massimo stretch out my walls was something that took the breath away from me every single time he first pushed in, it didn’t matter how many times I had him inside of me. He was always too fucking large, his cock too fat for my pussy - especially when he didn’t gave me the proper preparation, like now. 

“And you’ll let me do whatever I want with this perfect body, won’t you? Especially after one of my biggest enemies had the nerve to try to hit on you.” Gasping, I held onto Massimo’s nape as I tried my best to contain my moans by biting my lower lip. “None of that, baby girl, I want you to scream my name. Show him you’re mine and only mine. C’mon, cum for me. Scream my name. Let them all know you belong to me. That I own this fucking pussy.”

The sounds of my wetness and his body meeting mine were certainly being heard throughout the room by now, how much worse could it be if I simply relented and fulfilled my very possessive and incredibly insecure boyfriend’s wishes? I’d never truly know, because then Massimo’s thumb met my clit and I was instantly out of control of my own body, screaming his name as my cunt milked his cum inside of me.

“I don’t know how to get back there,” I admitted, embarrassed just by the thought of walking out into the very fancy dinner after they had all but witnessed me getting railed by the smug Don that looked unfairly sexy after our franctic lovemaking. 

“With your head high, knowing you’re the only one who can make me lose my mind like that, and my cum dripping down your legs. Now let’s go, bella.”

[levis-hazelnut]

Summary: when you and your best friend, Hanji, were younger, you had made up stories about your dream guys - what they would look like and how you would meet. What happens when the one you had made up appears to be real?

Warning(s): mentions of abuse (if you squint). Please do tell me if there are anymore.

Taglist: closed

Status: completed!

part 1 > part 2

series masterlist

(a/n: i love mikasa, she’s a queen. But I’m sorry because she’s gonna be a bitch in this lol)

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)!!!!!!!!" Before that call, I was peacefully eating lunch with my friends and didn't wish for any interruptions from my crazy, loud best friend. I was just sitting there with some of my calm friends that I was in the mood for; quietly speaking about life, no stress, no laughter, no loud talking - just nice conversation. Other times (most of the time), however, I would be in the mood for my best friend, wanting laughter, craziness and loud talking. But this wasn't one of those times... So why the hell was she here sprinting and screeching for me? "(Y/N)!!!!!!!" "For fuck's sake," I murmured. "What do you want, Hanji?" I asked when she pushed off Connie, who was sitting opposite me, and sat in his place. She leaned forward and caught her breath as her gaze was not at me, but behind me. Before I could turn around, she grabbed my head and forced me to face her which made me frown. "What the hell is going on?" "Okay, so... Remember about five years ago when we would talk about our dream guy and meeting them later in life. And remember when we said that you would find your dream guy in university..."

"Hanji--" "Don't talk. Let me finish the story of the past." *FLASHBACK* With the sun beaming down on me and Hanji as we ate our lunch together on the grass, we stupidly and crazily told each other about our dream husbands. The appearance of my dream guy was based on a character from a show I watched. And because we were still young, horny and stupid, we let our imagination create stories of how we would meet our dream guy. Let's forget about Hanji's and skip to mine... So, Hanji had thought of it with that extraordinary brain of hers. She said that, "We would be having lunch with our new friends, and maybe some of our school ones like Connie, Eren, Sasha, Jean and Armin. Anyway, you would be talking to someone as I sit next to you, quietly eating--" "Hanji, that's already not going to be true. How are you going to be quiet?" "Hush, let me carry on. So, I'll be eating, maybe not quietly, and then I look around the canteen and see him... walking with his lunch in his hand. Standing there in his handsomeness, with black hair, grey eyes, a light complexion, emotionless expression. I don't know what his personality is when he's there, but his appearance is pretty similar to how we imagine him to be. I gasp and smack your shoulder many times to get your attention which you click your tongue at. I point towards him and you look where I'm staring, which is when you gasp as well, trying to find the words but I already know what you're going to say. And we get up and stalk him. As we do that, I spot his keys in his bag and cleverly take them, passing them to you. When he sits down, I tell you to give it to him but you're too shy so I push you forward until you're in his sight. He looks at you and you shyly hold them out to him, saying: 'I think these are yours. You dropped them'. And then he thanks you and you live happily ever after." "... That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. But, if that does happen, then I love you and your brain." And since that day, she kept on adding to the story which made me excited to meet my future husband. Of course, however, I knew this story of hers wasn't going to come true, no matter how young, horny and stupid I was. *END OF FLASHBACK* "Yes, Hanji, I remember that. But why are you telling me this?" "You idiotic fool! He's right there behind you!" "I swear, if you're lying--" "I'm not, I'm not!! Just look!" I slowly twisted my head to see the man I've wanted to marry for many years. Was he really there? Is Hanji just playing a prank on me? I took a deep breath and looked to see who she was talking about... And there he was, exactly how I had imagined. Well, maybe not exactly, but extremely similar. "Hanji, you already know what we're doing?" She vigorously nodded as both of us got up and raced towards him, and then slowed down when we got closer so we don't look like weirdos or creeps (which we technically were). He was holding no bag, but luckily, Hanji saw his credit card in his back pocket and somehow got it without him realising.

I never knew how much I loved her until this moment. This mysterious, kind of magical man sat down on a table with two of his other friends. But I could care less about them. Taking a deep breath, I tapped his shoulder and he looked up at me with the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. They may have had no shimmer or emotion in them, but they still entranced me. I didn't realise I was staring for too long until he spoke, "Are you just going to stand there and look at me, or actually say something, brat?" Maybe those weren't the first words I expected to hear, but at least it was something. His voice was deep and velvety and void of any emotion and I wanted to hear him speak more. It probably wasn't even that attractive to other people, but this was someone I had made up in my mind and he's right here in front of me, so I'm going to fall in love with every aspect with him. "Oh, sorry... Um, you dropped this," I said quietly and held out his card to him. He lifted an eyebrow at first before taking it from me, his fingers skimming my skin as he did that. "Hey, are you okay? Why do you keep staring into space like that?" "Uh, yeah, I-I'm fine. Just a little tired. Anyway, um... I'm going to go... eat my lunch. Bye." "Thank you, by the way, random person." I laughed lightly. "(Y/N)." "Thank you, (Y/N)." "So--" "Hey, (Y/N)!!" I mentally rolled my eyes when my name was called and my best friend appeared beside me, throwing an arm onto my shoulders. "What do you need, Hanji?" I murmured. "I just wanted to know who your new, little friend is. Looks like you were having fun." "Um, no. I just gave him his card since he dropped it." "Oh, so you're best friends now! Why don't you sit right next to him and have lunch together?" "Hanji," I said in a tone for her to back off. But she carried on anyway, pushing me onto the seat next to the man. "I'm so sorry about her. She's... insane." "I can tell," he said, eyeing both of us up and down. We were both definitely going to be the weirdos he should stay away from. "Well, you can go--" "(Y/N), I think you should stay! You seem like a delightful person!" the girl with pigtails opposite me squealed and I smiled at her. "It's nice to make new friends," a blonde male next to her stated with a polite smile. "Let her stay, Levi." "Oh, it's fine. My friends are probably wondering where I am," I stated, turning to find Hanji, but she wasn't there. "Shit," I mumbled. "What's wrong?" "Oh, nothing. I mean, I literally just came to give him his card and now I'm having lunch with you three. It's kind of weird." "'Him' has a name," he muttered bitterly. "It's Levi." "Sorry, Levi." I want to marry you, Levi. "You can leave now if you want." "Uh, yeah, I should probably go," I said and started to get up. "No, stay! Levi, you can't just push someone away!" the female with green eyes scolded him. "We barely even know her." "So? It's good to meet nice people and become friends." "Tch. You two can do whatever you want, then." "Maybe I can join you guys for lunch another time. Looks like Mr Moody doesn't want company." "Mr Moody?" he repeated and lifted an eyebrow at me. "You just met me and you're giving me that nickname?" "Uhh... I'm going to go now." "Bye, (Y/N)! I'm Isabel, by the way, and this is Farlan." "Bye, Isabel, Farlan. It was nice talking to you." I got up without addressing the raven-haired male and made my way back to my table, huffing as soon as I sat down. "I messed up bad," I complained to myself, causing the bald male beside me to inquire what happened. "It's nothing. Just me being stupid and childish to think that I'll magically be able to become some gloomy guy's girlfriend." "Who is this 'gloomy guy'?" "It's (Y/N)'s crush who's sitting right over there with that grinning girl and some other guy!" "Hanji, just forget about it. He hates me." "I've never seen him before," Connie stated, taking a secret glance at him. "We just saw him today as well." "And he's already your crush?" "Basically--" "Hanji, we promised that we won't tell anyone," I snapped. "It's stupid and I never want to talk about it again." "I mean, it's not really stupid if he's real. It could just be your fault because you were nervous and acted awkward around him. But then again, it could be my fault because I kind of forced you to sit next to him. Maybe I should let you do it your own way. So, for once, (Y/N), I won't get involved. I don't want this chance to go." "I doubt you'll be able to keep that promise." "I will! I don't want you to be annoyed and depressed forever. So you do whatever you want. And you can slap me if I get involved in the tiniest way." "Okay. Thank you, Hanji." "I'm still so confused," the baldie said. "Maybe I'll tell you one day, Connie. Maybe when I make progress." "Okay--" "Oh my god!! I just realised - he's actually real and right there!" I suddenly yelled, causing the canteen to quieten as students looked at me with confusion. "Ugh, I'm such an idiot. I need to stop making a fool out of myself. Did Levi look at me, Hanji?" "No. But he obviously still heard you." "God, I just want to die..." ~/~ Thanks to my roommate, I had to rush my morning routine and miss breakfast since I had to run to the university, which was about a five-minute walk away. Since I was running, however, it took me three minutes. I was definitely going to give Hanji what she deserves for not waking me up. I stumbled into the lecture hall to find that they had already started. I quickly apologised for being late and found a random spot to settle down and catch my breath. I took my laptop out of my bag and gulped on some water as I waited for it to load. And I soon got to work, focusing on the lecture and not taking notice of the people around me. As I was listening to my professor, someone beside me whispered my name and so I rotated my head to look at them. Act cool. Be calm, (Y/N). Just because you're taking the same course and you're going to see him more than you thought, doesn't mean you can freak out. "Do you have a pen I could borrow?" Levi asked in a hushed tone and I sifted through my clothes and bag to find a pen that he can use. After about a minute of looking, I found one at the bottom of my bag and passed it to him with a smile. He thanked me before both of us got on with our work. I could barely concentrate now that I knew who I was sitting next to, but I still tried my best. Towards the end of the lecture, which seemed like hours, my stomach rumbled and I froze and internally cringed. Why did that have to happen? Well, I didn't have breakfast so I guess it's understandable, but still. Shortly, I was able to leave, so everyone filed out and I packed my things away, slinging my bag over my shoulder as I made my way out. As I was leaving the hall, a familiar, husky voice called for me and I stopped. "You know, for someone that doesn't like people, you sure like saying people's names," I joked. "I was just going to give you your pen back and ask if you wanted to grab something to eat since it sounds and looks like you haven't had breakfast." "Shit, was my stomach that loud?" "I couldn't hear Professor Erwin," he said with no amusement, but something told me that he was just joking with me. I playfully rolled my eyes and let a small laugh escape my mouth before taking the pen from his hand and walking out with him following after me. "Hey, so yesterday, I was kind of in a bad mood which is why I acted like that. Though, I am usually cold and unfriendly and--" "What are you trying to say?" "Let's start over. Isabel and Farlan made me feel guilty, so let's get you some breakfast and know each other some more. All I know is that you and your glasses friend are weirdos." "Well, thank you very much for saying that, Mr Moody. We are weirdos, and we're proud." "Hey, Levi!" "Hey, (Y/N)!!" There were two different voices and two different names being called at the same time, yet they were coming from the same direction. Two sighs sounded when I saw Hanji and Levi saw Isabel. "What did I miss? Why are you two walking together?" Isabel asked. "We're going to get some breakfast. Since you, Hanji, never woke me up," I replied, arching an eyebrow and folding my arms over my chest. "I didn't know when your first lecture was, and I thought you would've put an alarm. How late were you?" "You weren't that late, you know. We started about a minute before you came." "So, I look like a mess and didn't make coffee for no damn reason? Ugh, I'm so glad I have no more lectures today." "Well, I need to head to my next lecture, so I guess I'll see you at home," Hanji smiled before fast-walking. "Me, too. Bye!" "Let's go?" I suggested and he nodded in response. Some words were spoken as we took our time in getting to a cafe that was a two-minute walk away. I told him a bit about myself, but he had very little to say as if he was hiding a shady past or something like that. Nevertheless, I didn't pry. "So you're not only a weirdo, but a perv as well?" "Hey! I'm not a pervert," I pouted, trying to fight back a smile. "It was a dare from Hanji... Though, I don't regret doing it," I muttered. "Perv." "Hush. Eren's ass is perfect to squeeze." "I don't want to know that," Levi said with a hint of disgust as he opened the door to the cafe, letting me go in first. We walked towards the queue and continued our conversation. "Well, if you want to start over and get to know me, then you have to know that I'm a weirdo, maybe a perv, and let's just say that you don't want to make me angry." "So you are a perv?" "Okay, fine. Yes, I am a perv," I announced. "And just like how I'm proud of being weird, I'm also proud of being a pervert." "Are you proud of letting your stomach rumble as well?" "Shut it, Ackerman." "Oh, hey, (Y/N)," the male at the register smiled. "Hi, Eren." I grinned back at him, seeing his gaze on the raven beside me. "This is Levi. I guess you could say we're acquaintances." "This is Eren?" Levi inquired and I saw a certain glint in his eyes. That is when I realised that I had told him I squeezed Eren's butt after getting a dare. Oh, why did I have a feeling that he was going to embarrass me? "Yeah. Nice to meet you, Levi. What do you guys want?" "You go first," I told the male and he nodded. "An Earl Grey, please." "Okay. And you, princess?" "Well, loverboy, could I get a coffee and pain au chocolat?" "Of course. Anything else?" "No, thanks," I replied, searching my pockets for my purse. Then my bag, but I couldn't find it. I bit the inside of my lip and turned to Levi. "I don't have my purse on me. Sorry. I'll pay you back." "You're too broke to do that, princess," he murmured and paid for our food. "Shut up. Thank you, Eren. Thank you, Levi." "No problem. I'll bring your drinks and food in a bit." I shot him another smile before strolling to a table with two seats facing each other. I took a seat, hanging my coat on the chair and dropped my bag to the ground, under my feet. "You and that kid in a relationship or something?" he randomly questioned after there was a moment of silence. "Me and Eren? No, no. We just have that kind of friendship where we act like a couple and call each other names. We don't actually like each other or anything. And he has a girlfriend, well, sort of." "What do you mean 'sort of'?" "It's not a stable relationship. There have been a few problems, and I've tried to tell Eren to just forget about her but he can't. I just want him to be happy with someone that truly cares for him and doesn't cause him any distress. He's come to me so many times just to cry over her." "What's her name?" "Mikasa." "What about Mikasa?" Eren spoke with a slight frown, placing down our things in front of us. "Oh, I was just talking about how she has the same surname as Levi and was wondering if he knew her." "Okay. Well, here's your coffee, tea and pain au chocolat. If there's anything else you need, just tell me." "Thank you." "... You're a good liar." "I'll take that as a compliment. Also, I'm surprised you haven't taken the chance to embarrass me yet." "Embarrass you? Why would I ever do that?" he remarked sarcastically, but obviously my dense ass couldn't sense that. "Because you know which boy's butt I squeezed, and you could expose me for being a pervert. Though, he already knows that I am. Everyone I know knows what kind of person I am." "A weirdo and a pervert," he stated after taking a sip of his tea. "I wonder what other traits you have." I snorted. "Are you sure you want to know?" He gave me a small glance, perfectly arching his brow. I felt as if I've known this person for longer than two days. Probably because me and Hanji have spoken about him for many years now. But, even then, I feel like we have a certain bond. And no, I'm not just saying that because he's the love of my life; I truly think we can create a strong friendship... and then, maybe something a little more. Even though he's a made-up person that became true, I sometimes forget who I'm talking to and just internally scream when I realise. But, seriously, how did this happen? I don't think I'll ever be able to believe that he became true (and maybe one day, I won't believe that I'm marrying him hehe). "Oi, you're spacing out again. Is that a habit of yours or are you just always tired? Or do you have someone on your mind?" "There's no one on my mind, I'm just always tired. Boys can piss off and leave me alone... apart from you, Levi. I love you-- Uhh, I mean, obviously I don't love you. We literally just met, I don't love you. It's just, uh, it's fun to hang out with you. You aren't like others... Ugh, I'm an idiot." I facepalmed the table and refused to look back at the male in front of me. "You aren't an idiot, you're a weirdo. Don't forget that. Anyway, I think we should head out because you look like you're going into a meltdown or something." "Sure. I'm just going to quickly finish my coffee." I gulped down the last few sips and left the mug on the table, thanking Levi for paying. He only nodded as I waved at Eren, who stopped us from leaving. "Could you wait like two minutes? My shift's over and I just want to relax at yours." "Yeah, sure. Levi, you can go if you want. I feel like I'm just dragging you around." "I'm the one that brought you here. I don't care about waiting for a brat." "Brat? He's the same age as us." "Yeah, I know. I just call people that, don't get offended, darlin'." "Darling? What's with these nicknames you're so generously handing out?" "Says that one that called me 'Mr Moody' in the first ten minutes we spoke." "Hey, you said yourself that you were in a bad mood." "Thanks for waiting. Should we go?" the teal-eyed boy beamed and I nodded, hooking my arm with his as he stuffed his hands into his pocket before all three of us left the cosy cafe. "So, where did Levi magically come from?" "He joined my uni yesterday, but we got off on the wrong foot and decided to start over. And since we're both doing biochemistry, he saw my miserable entrance, looking like a mess. And, my stupid belly chose to rumble so Levi kindly offered to get me breakfast. Now, we're just getting to know each other." "She's a pervert," Levi curtly said. "Yeah, that basically sums her up. Along with her being weird, tired, broke and an awesome friend." "You're lucky you added that last one before my fist was in your face." "Oh, she's also an adorable threatener. But, do not get on her bad side because she will be a monster towards you." "Yeah, Levi knows most of this already." "And I already regret talking to you," he teased. "Shut up, Ackerman." "Anyway, I'm going this way," Levi announced, pointing to the left as we were about to turn right. "We don't have any lectures tomorrow, so maybe I'll see you on Wednesday?" "Yeah. Bye, Levi." "See you later, darlin'. By the way, Eren, (Y/N) likes your ass." "Jerk," I muttered before looking at Eren, who just grinned at me. "And that's why you're a pervert." Both of us started to walk again but since I was holding onto him, I came to halt when he stopped in his tracks, pulling me to the side. "Tell me: why are you so comfortable around someone you just met?" "I'm not that comfortable. And you know I'm always friendly to new people." "Yeah, but not like this. What's the deal with you and him.?" "Nothing, Eren. Stop worrying. I'll tell you what this is all about one day." "... Fine. But, I have a bad feeling about him." "Levi? Why? He's perfect. I mean, I don't know that, but his friends seem to be really nice. And you can't get friends like that unless you're nice, too." "If you trust him, I'm going to have to trust you to not get into any trouble." "Yes, yes. Now, stop worrying." Eren rested an arm around my shoulders as we carried on going towards mine and Hanji's apartment. We walked there in silence, but my keys broke that serenity when they jingled against the door as I unlocked it and opened it, allowing Eren to walk in. We both took off our shoes as I locked the door behind us. Eren plopped down onto the sofa as I went to the bathroom to see my reflection. God, I looked like something out of a horror movie. How did people stand to look at me, or even talk to me? But I was home now, so I didn't bother fixing my appearance as I went to the living room and dropped onto the comfortable furniture next to Eren. "I would ask you if you want a drink, but we went past that stage of formality ages ago. Help yourself to whatever." "Thanks, but I just want to rest." "What's up? I know there's something you need to tell me," I said, ruffling his brunette hair like he was a little kid. "... I barely got any sleep last night. I was meant to go on a date with Mikasa yesterday after my evening shift. I reserved a table at some restaurant that has great reviews. So, after my shift, I dressed all nice and left to go to the restaurant. I took the bus and it took me half an hour to get there. She then called me as I walking up to the restaurant, saying she can't make it because she's sick. Obviously, being my stupid self, I just said okay and said that we can postpone our date. However, I was starving so I wasn't going to put that reservation to waste. When I got there and told them about the booked table under my name, they told me there were already some people that took the table, telling them that their name was Eren. I was so confused and looked over at a table, where I saw Mikasa and that jerk: Reiner." "And then you stormed off, went home and cried?" I asked, saying it like it was something ordinary. "... Yes..." "What's this, like the fifth time you've seen her with a different boy? I swear, it's not the same boy every time as well. I still don't get why you don't just break up with her. She doesn't deserve you, she doesn't make you happy, which is what you deserve. I say you break up with her sometime this week." "(Y/N), that's too soon." "I don't care. She's causing you into depression, and I don't like seeing you like this. I haven't seen you be happy once after you got into this relationship. And I don’t want to hear any excuses. You know that you aren't happy with her, so I don't get why you don't break up with her. Is she threatening you or something?" "..." "... Eren?" Shit. Eren, you better say something before that silence gives me the wrong idea. That bitch better not be hurting or threatening you, I thought, biting my lip as I waited for him to speak. "Eren, please say--" Once again, I pulled him into an embrace when he requested it and he quietly sobbed, nestling his face into the crook of my neck. This time, I truly felt sorry for him because he wasn't crying over another wrecked date, or another man he caught Mikasa with; it was something I've never heard about. I still haven't, but his silence implied it. I didn't want to say anything as I got lost in my thoughts. What kinds of things has this girl done to Eren - one of my closest friends? As I was in the middle of pondering, a phone's ringtone sounded in the room. It was Eren's and I didn't know if I should pick it up or not. When I saw the name of the caller, my bitchy side took over and I grabbed his phone which was on the coffee table in front of the sofa. I answered it with a sweet 'hello', waiting for a reply as I continued to hug Eren with one arm. He soon lifted off of me and tried wiping away the tears as he looked at me with an expression that destroyed my heart. "Who are you?" "It's (Y/N). You probably can't recognise my voice since I haven't seen you in so long," I said with fake politeness. "Oh, (Y/N)... Where's Eren, by the way?" "He's in the bathroom. I can take a message if you'd like." "No, it's fine. Just tell him to call me when he's free." "Yeah, like I'd do that, whore." "Excuse me? What did you just call me?" "(Y/N), what the hell are you doing?" Eren whispered angrily so I retracted the phone from my ear and covered the speakers. "Teaching her a lesson. How's she going to threaten you, cheat on you, reject every date, and still have the balls to call you? She's stupid to think that I'm going to let that slide. I don't like her, and neither do you, so I'm going to invite her here and you can talk to her." "(Y/N), please don't do this. I know you're doing this for me, but I don't know, I just can't break up with her. Even after everything she's done." "Eren, this is for your own good. You're always depressed and tired because of her. You need to let go and be free. This isn't how you're meant to be enjoying life." "... Fine. Bring that bitch over here." I smirked. "Good." I brought the phone back to my ear. "Sorry about that--" "What are you going on about? Why did you just call me a wh0re?" "If you want to know, come to my apartment. You know where I live. You can see your precious boyfriend as well." "I will. Because no one talks to me like that." She cut the phone and I passed Eren's phone to him. I got up and gave him some tissue to wipe his face that had some snot and tears. "Hey, I'm kind of nervous." "That's normal. Anyone would be nervous if they were about to break up with someone. Though, I feel bad. Did I just force this onto you?" "It's fine. I'm glad I'm finally getting it over with." "Also, was she threatening you?" "Yes..." "I would say you should've told me, but that was obviously something you couldn't say since she would do something. Damn, she's some messed up girl. Sorry. But I just had to say that." "No, I understand. I don't even know what I saw in her in the first place." "Don't beat yourself up about it. Everyone makes mistakes and you're going to learn from this for your next girlfriend. First of all, if she cancels a lot of your dates, break up with her. Second, if she cheats on you once, break up with her. And third, if she barely talks to you, or tries to avoid you, break up with her." "Okay. Thank you, (Y/N). I'd literally run back to her every time if you weren't here." "No worries, love. Just helping you with your problems." "Well, let me help you with yours, baby girl. What's on your mind? You've been acting a little distracted." "Mm... I guess I'm thinking about Levi..." "What's so special about him?" "... All right, I'm going to tell you this. But don't tell Levi, or anyone, because it's a stupid thing me and Hanji made up." "What happened to trusting me all the time? You always told me everything." "Yeah, but since you got with Mikasa, you've been a little occupied. Don't worry, though, you're still my second best friend," I grinned at the statement I had said years ago when I was around ten years old. I then changed the subject and told Eren about what me and Hanji created in our young, horny and stupid minds. "Wow... That's actually crazy. You guys never thought he was going to be real, but damn... Still, I don't think you should trust him too much. To be honest, that guy's suspicious, even supernatural if he was just someone made up." "That's what I was thinking. But, half the time I forget that he was someone I dreamt about. I feel like I've bonded with him before and we're just catching up with each other's lives." "I understand. But, unless he proves to be completely normal, don't get too attached to him." "Okay. And, it's been about twenty minutes since Mikasa hung up. I think she's going to be here soon. Do you know what you're going to say?" "Kind of. I've been thinking of a breakup scenario for a while, but I was never able to make it happen." "Hey, me and Hanji made up a guy and he happened. I think you can make this breakup happen; I believe in you." "Thank you so much, (Y/N). You honestly don't know how grateful I am for you." "Whenever you need me, I'll be here." I heard the buzzer echo through my apartment, meaning someone was asking for an entrance. I shot a glance at Eren before getting up and walking towards my front door, answering the phone and speaking a confident 'hello'. "It's Mikasa." "Oh, it's you," I spat with disgust. I pressed the button for the main door so she could come in and waited a couple of seconds before opening my front door. She barged past me, and I muttered: 'Never met someone so rude'. My bitchy side was locking in again and I locked the door before following her into the living room. Eren was now standing up, appearing as bold and someone who was ready to break up with Mikasa. "Eren, why did she call me a 'whore'?" "Well, is she wrong?" he pointed out.

[mieohmy]

𝖲𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖡𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗒 (𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒) | 𝖬𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖫𝖾𝖾

PAIRING: intern! lee mark x intern! reader

GENRE: fluff, humor, coworkers-to-lovers, slight pining

WC: 1.7k

NOTES: slight cursing

SUMMARY: just you being forced to share a hotel room with another cute intern. but of course that room has only one bed....

☾

Does the universe hate you? is the only thing running through your head. You’re shivering, hands rubbing together to create warmth as you wait for the worker to pull up a room. Mark stands next to you, bouncing up and down to keep warm. 

Curse your stupid CEO for forcing you and Mark to go to this hotel. Curse the weather for snowing you two in. Curse yourself for choosing to intern at this company. The only person you couldn’t curse was Mark. The whole day had been a mess, and he was nothing but helpful. Except for at this moment, he couldn’t do anything, as much as you wished he could. 

Finally, the lady tells you they have one last room open since it was such short notice. You sigh, accepting it since you have no other choice. It was either take this room or spend the night out in the cold. 

Obtaining the room card, Mark takes your suitcase, and you gratefully thank him. Getting in the elevator, you press the fifth floor. You turn to Mark. “Someday, isn’t it?” He attempts to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. “I thought this was gonna be a vacation, but here we are freezing our butts off.” You laugh before the doors open. 

Shuffling out, you find your room. Eagerly, you open the door, ready for some warmth and a cozy bed. The door creaks open, and you don’t move.

“Y/n?? What’s wrong?” You don’t say anything, just stepping aside for him to see. There’s only one fucking bed.  

Mark awkwardly scratches his head. “Well.... what do we do?” Running your hands through your hair in annoyance, you huff. “What else can we do? This is the last room unless you want to sleep outside in the snow.” 

You push through, and Mark follows. It’s honestly a nice room, except that there was only one bed- and two people. “I’ll sleep on the couch.” Mark offers. Frowning, you hesitate whether to offer to share the bed or not. The couch was cute, sure, but small and not fit for sleeping. Anyone could tell.

You had absolutely nothing against Mark. He was an intern that applied alongside you, extremely kind and polite. Being the two newbies, you both got along pretty well. You would even say the two of you were friends. But was sharing a bed crossing the line?

Biting your lip, you shake your head. “It’s okay. Mark offered to take the couch. I’ll pay him back later with food,” you assure yourself. You let him wash up first in the bathroom before you go in and get ready for bed. 

You take a glance at Mark already on the couch. You notice his feet are hanging off the edge and immediately feel guilty. “Are you sure it’s okay, Mark?” He nods. “Seriously, y/n, I’m fine.” You made sure he had enough blankets and a pillow before turning the light off. 

Getting under the covers, you almost immediately fall asleep. The events of the day exhausted you. First, waking up every day for work at 6, then finally arriving after a late bus. Next thing you know, the boss calls you and Mark up. “We just want you to go and test this hotel for one night, that’s all.” And then you ended up getting snowed in and forced to stay two more days. Great. 

Your eyes suddenly flick open. It’s dark, and you can barely see the ceiling. Rolling over, you catch the time. 1:59 am. 

It’s cold, you think while groaning. Suddenly, you hear a sneeze. Shoot, Mark. Getting up, you squint your eyes in the dark to find him. He’s shivering and curled up in a ball on the small couch. Your heart pangs. You can’t do this anymore. 

“Mark,” you rasp. You tiptoe over to the couch. Light shaking his arm, you call his name again. He slowly lifts his head, eyes barely open. 

You grab his arm. He’s lighter than you thought as you pull him up and over to the bed. Yawning, you push him onto it and climb to the other side. Placing a pillow between as a border, you whisper a soft “good night” before getting under the covers again and falling into darkness. 

Beep. Beep. Beeep. The alarm rings through your head, but surprisingly, you wake up refreshed. You sleepily stare at the ceiling before remembering Mark. Turning, you gasp at the sight. 

“Oh my god, Mark. What happened to you?” You expected to see a sleeping Mark. Instead, he was staring straight up at the ceiling, not blinking. His head slowly turns to yours, eyes bloodshot, and the bags underneath very visible.

He talked slow, voice scratchy and deep. “I’m not sure how I got here, but It suddenly got so hot last night.... you kinda rolled right next to me. So I threw off the blankets. Then it got really cold. You took all of them. It was freezing.” He pauses before looking back at the ceiling. “You kick a lot in your sleep..” 

You cringe, horrified. “I’m so sorry Mark.. I totally forgot to warn you about my sleeping habits... I felt so bad seeing you on the couch and kinda just forced you here.  ”

You both get ready to get breakfast downstairs and check if the snow had gotten better. Once you arrive at the dining area, you head straight to the drink station. 

Mark finds a table, slumping down and placing his cheek on the hard surface. You softly place the steaming cup of tea next to him. 

“I... I thought it’d be better if you had tea. That’s okay, right?” you ask. Mark gratefully nods before taking a sip. Looking outside, you frown. “I’m not sure if it’s cleared up yet. I guess we’re still stuck here.” Mark yawns. 

“I’m guessing you didn’t get much sleep?” you say sheepishly. Mark groans. “Who knew you did all that in your sleep?” You press your lips together. “I know, it’s bad, but I have no idea how to fix it. You kinda just learn to deal with it..” 

It’s too cold to go exploring, so you decide to head back up to your room after eating. The two of you walk to the elevator. While waiting, Mark suddenly slumps forward into you, falling, and you’re somehow able to catch him, holding him in an embrace. 

“Mark?” You gently ask, concerned. Eyes closed, he mumbles softly, “Have I ever told you I wanted to ask you out?” You freeze. What the fuck? 

Laughing nervously, you desperately tap him, trying to get him to wake up. He’s still slumped over in your arms, and you somehow drag him into the elevator. He’s finally able to stand as the elevator rides up. There’s an awkward silence. You’re not sure what to say. 

Getting off, you open the door to the room as Mark trails behind you. Your mind’s a mess, but you force Mark to sleep first. “Go to sleep, Mark. You need it. I’ll wake you up later.” He tries to protest, but you shove him to bed. 

After he’s settled, you sit on the couch, processing what he said. Are you sure you heard him right? Did Mark Lee really say he wanted to ask you out?? Maybe he was just too sleep-deprived?? 

You punch yourself in the head. Stupid, stupid. Mark just confessed,  and you didn’t even say anything?? You let out a silent scream. Do you even like him back? You never thought of him in that way.

You think back to the first time you met him. 

It was the two of you standing awkwardly as the boss introduced everyone. Mark seemed so professional at first, but you later found out how awkward and hilarious he was. The late nights working on papers and projects together makes you grin. 

Honestly, it’s just fun hanging out with him, you realize.

You bite your lip. Maybe you do like him, you’re not sure. Should you ask him? Did he mean it? Or does he not remember?? Ugh, why is this stuff so complicated...

Mark wakes up hungry, and you take him to eat downstairs in the lobby. He doesn’t bring it up, so you don’t say anything. The whole time, it’s pretty silent, and you’re not sure why you feel so awkward. 

Once you get back to the room, you both get ready for bed. You suddenly get a text from your boss. 

“Your flight back is rescheduled for tomorrow at 7 am. You should be good to check out tomorrow. Don’t be late.” it reads.

You show Mark the message. “So I guess we’re leaving tomorrow?” You nod, feeling slightly disappointed? 

No questions asked, you make Mark sleep next to you. You still put up the pillow border, though. “I’m sorry if I kick you or steal the blankets,” you warn this time. He laughs. “It’s okay, I’m prepared.” 

You slip under the covers, ready to get some sleep before the early flight tomorrow, but you find yourself unable to. You toss and turn, the precious sleep not coming to you. 

You don’t know what time it is, but Mark eventually shifts next to you. “Can’t sleep?” he says quietly. You let out a breath. It’s now or never. “Did you mean it? That you wanted to ask me out?”

You hear him inhale. “I-um yes, I did mean it. It wasn’t supposed to come out, I was just tired and l-“ You cut his rambling off. “Oh, so why didn’t you?” 

Looking at him, you notice he’s staring up at the ceiling again. He gulps, turning to face you. “Well-I- uh, was afraid you would say no..” 

“Well, I haven’t rejected you yet, haven’t I?” you whisper. You timidly lean over the pillows, placing a kiss on his cheek. He stares at you, wide-eyed. You move back to your spot.  “Goodnight Mark. Just hit me if I bother you in my sleep.” You close your eyes, trying your best to fall asleep, heart racing. 

And before you know it, you’re waking up to an alarm sound. The next morning, it’s freezing as the two of you get ready. Grabbing all your belongings, you and Mark successfully check out. You’re rolling your suitcase outside when you suddenly feel Mark grab your hand. He places it inside his jacket pocket. 

You turn to him, surprised. He coughs, ears red. “It’s cold.” Your face may be freezing, but your heart is warm. 

☾    

And even after many years, when your relatives ask your husband how he deals with your sleeping habits, Mark only shrugs. “You get used to it.”

[pudding-head-kenma]

You’re My Happiest Place [ Wakatoshi x Reader ]

Request: Can i request ushijima x gf manager reader Karasuno boys had a sleepover and decided to stroll around then saw the reader buying snacks at the convience store with ushijima being clingy to her and cuddles too thanks❤️

A/N: This might be a little all over the place, I was having fun with Karasuno being crackheads but also introducing the relationship between Toshi and his gf, I hope it’s still enjoyable nonetheless!

“I’m telling you, there’s no other rational explanation!” Hinata keeps pressing the subject, and by now nobody’s really paying attention to this argument. They know better than to argue against the boy, especially when he gets silly ideas into his head that prove to be difficult to push away. They just let him have his moment, opting for not agreeing nor disagreeing, safely going through the conversation on neutral grounds. Not Kageyama, though, he’s not buying any of this.

“And I’m telling you, dumbass, a ghost did not make you toast.”

“I didn’t put the bread in, my mom wasn’t home, my sister wouldn’t ever go near the toaster! Who put the bread in, then?!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Do you HONESTLY believe-”

“STOP YELLING!” Daichi, as usual, has had enough of them arguing in the middle of the street and bothering just about everyone that walks by them. Although they don’t say anything, the other third years are thankful for the captain’s yelling, hoping for some peace and quiet now that he has told them off – seriously, they’re five seconds away from Nishinoya joining in the conversation and take neither side, instead making up a story of his own that would surely worsen the situation.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

The next few moments are quiet, before everyone goes back to their conversations; they hadn’t had a sleepover together in a while, so they had wasted a lot of time just catching up in general about things that weren’t related to the team, even Tsukishima had blessed them with a few short sentences, and yet they all still seemed to have a lot to talk about.

Yamaguchi had claimed a spot next to Tsukishima, both of them walking far behind the group in hopes of not having to deal with Hinata. Sugawara and Daichi walked ahead of the group, involved in their own little conversation, while Asahi was borderline bullied by Tanaka and Nishinoya, Ennoshita desperately trying to get them to stop. Kinoshita and Narita walked a bit away from the group as well, mostly laughing at the scene in front of them. The remaining two were still glaring at each other, but they had dropped the ghost talk by now.

“Woah, guys-”

“If you tell us you thought of a reason why we should believe your ghost theory, I’m going to throw you off of that bridge over there.” After a good hour or two of silence from Tsukishima, he had spoken up in a warning tone, glaring daggers at the smaller middle blocker in front of him. Seriously, how long can this conversation go on for?

“I wasn’t going to! I was just gonna ask if that’s Ushiwaka over there.”

There’s a collective ‘huh’ from the group, and soon they’re all turning their heads to the place Hinata is bluntly pointing to. He’s a few feet away and turned around, but they can definitely tell it’s him.

“What is that bastard doing in our territory?!”

“I think we should go over there and teach him a lesson!”

“Our territory... Please be quiet, you’re embarrassing us.” Sugawara sighed, shaking his head at Tanaka and Nishinoya, who looked just about ready to go provoke Ushijima. “Technically, if you want to go all gang talk on us, we’re the ones in his territory. See? We’re close to Shiratorizawa” He nodded up towards a street sign, and that was enough to make the other two calm down – though Tanaka definitely looked disappointed for losing his excuse to pick a fight.

Although they have no intention of speaking to him directly, most of the boys are still looking at him, and the whole group has collectively stopped walking. There’s a certain tension in the air, be it competition or whatever else, and they can’t seem to walk away, even if they weren’t spotted.

In reality, it’s probably because it’s a once in a time chance. They rarely come to this part of town all together, and it’s probably not that easy to spot Ushijima out in public without his team. It’s like a peek into his life, not just as a volleyball player, and it’s somehow intriguing.

It becomes even more intriguing as Ushijima approaches a girl, and wraps his arms around her from behind.

Tanaka seems pretty offended by that. “That bastard! How dare he grab an innocent girl? Noya, let’s go over there-”

“And teach him not to mess with pretty women like that! My thoughts exactly, let’s go!”

They’re both grabbed by the back of their shirts before they can venture any further, Daichi more than annoyed at their reckless behaviour by now.

“Are you stupid? They’re obviously dating.”

Chaos ensues.

You jump a little at the sudden touch, but you’re quick to recognise the gentle hands around your waist. You tilt your head back ever so slightly, comfortably resting against him as you look through a few items on the shelf.

Despite what everyone might think, Wakatoshi is a very affectionate boyfriend. You wouldn’t exactly call him clingy, but he does enjoy physical contact from time to time. You find he likes grabbing your hand in crowds, enjoys wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you close to him, and it’s not rare for him to kiss you before practise, even if his teammates are around. He’s not shy about anything, having always been a blunt person, so he sees no point in being shy about his relationship, either.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself. I thought I told you to go ahead and go home?”

“Felt like waiting for you.”

One of the best things about being in a relationship with Wakatoshi is that he’s very honest. You never second guess the truth behind his feelings, because he has never been one to sugar coat anything. If he likes you, he says it. If he doesn’t like something, he says it. It’s not hard, and it shouldn’t have to be. You always feel secure in your relationship, because you trust him to always be open with you. That’s why he’s so blunt about his display of affection, too.

His arms tighten around you, nudging his nose against your cheek in hopes of catching your attention, and for a split second you forget what you’re even trying to read on the package, instead glancing at him. He’s quick to act, knowing he only has a few seconds to press his lips against yours, and he does so without even thinking too much about it before giving you a little more space to finish your shopping.

Most people would think he’s rude; that’s one of the downsides of him being so blunt, he always says what goes through his head with little to no filter, which people often associate with not being polite rather than just not being a liar. Coming from that same judgement that he’s rude, people end up assuming he’s not very touchy at all and would rather keep his distance from everyone. That’s just not true, it’s mostly that he’s only affectionate with people he trusts.

You eventually nudge him a little, and he’s quick to catch the hint and let go, following closely behind you as you pick up the rest of the snacks and head to the counter. He’s faster than you, and he’s already offering the little old man working there some money. You know better than to complain, he’d tell you what he always tells you: ‘I wanted to do that for you.’ At first, it bothered you, but you’ve grown used to it. He told you he’s happy when he does things for you, and you’re not exactly angry at the fact he wants to buy you things. You both came to an agreement that he wouldn’t overdo it, though.

As you head out, you both remain quiet when you notice the poorly hidden boys behind a few bushes; You recognise them, of course, they’re from Karasuno. You already know two of them had ran into your boyfriend before, their blunt behaviour having surprised even the bluntest person you know. It’s a little funny, and you’re almost unable to stop yourself from laughing. But as Wakatoshi reaches to hold your hand all those thoughts seem to melt away, and you’re instead focused on him completely.

When you’re both in his room, he’s even more open with his feelings. He doesn’t take long at all to pull you into his arms. His cuddling usually depends on his mood; usually, he likes holding you against his chest, having you on top of him so he can keep his arms tight around you, and so that you can hear his heart. When he’s tired from practise, however, he likes to hold your waist and lie down on your chest, listening to your heart instead. He seems to be tired today, and your arms move on their own, your hands tangling in his hair as you softly comb it, knowing it’s going to relax him.

“I’m happy you decided to be our manager.”

You smile, knowing he’s about to bluntly talk about his feelings again. You hum in response, gently scratching his scalp, to which he responds by tightening his grip around you, bringing you closer. Wakatoshi always likes bringing you as close as possible when the two of you are alone.

“Why?”

He doesn’t hesitate. He never does, doesn’t see why he should.

“I wouldn’t have talked to you otherwise. And you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

He always tell you that. You see the way his eyes shine when he wins a match, you see the way he swells up with pride whenever he delivers the perfect spike, you hear the passion in his words when he talks about volleyball – but they never compare to you. None of that compares to you, it never could. He knew it from the start, and he helped you learn it as well.

You’re both quiet after that. You’re aware that he’s tired and might just need a nap. In his embrace, you always seem to feel sleepy as well. You call it a curse, and yet he calls it a blessing – to be able to hold you close without bothering you, since you’re both feeling exhausted. So you let your eyes close, your hands stopping their movements after a few moments as you both fall into a deep sleep. You can’t tell which one fell asleep first, but neither of you let go.

You almost hear one of the Karasuno boys yell out how unfair it is that Wakatoshi gets everything, even dating his team’s manager.

Almost.

[pippytmi]

ceo!au + enemies to lovers + is that the best you can do. Please thank you

“You have a real mean way about you.”

Click. Click. Click. The lighter refuses to do its job; Lena finally just places the unlit cigarette between her lips and inwardly bemoans her luck. What are the odds—a pissed off Kara Danvers, a lighter that won’t light, and to top it all off, the faint bass from inside sounds suspiciously like the electronic music she’d told the DJ not to play.

“I'll take that as a compliment,” Lena says dryly. “How did you get past security?”

Kara comes up beside her; Lena tracks her in the corner of her eye. “Your security isn’t very good,” she replies simply.

“Figures.” Lena turns, then, and leans as lightly as she can against the metal railing. “Your manners aren’t very good either. No hello?”

“We don’t say hello to each other.” Kara looks more disheveled than Lena has ever seen her. Tie undone, white shirt wrinkled where it tucks into her pants, bun of hair unkempt. For a moment she says nothing more; Lena watches as she rests her elbows against the railing, shoulders taut with tension. “I’m tired,” she declares suddenly. “Of fighting with you.”

Lena sighs, rolls her cigarette between her thumb and forefinger and wishes it were lit. “That's all we do,” she says. “We fight each other. You cause trouble for me, I cause trouble for you…” 

“You stole my merger with Edge.” Kara’s voice is quiet, but as bitter as expected. She asks no questions, makes no probing inquiry, just states the fact hollowly.

“I did you a favor,” Lena says flippantly. “He would have severely underpaid you.”

“So you decided to—what, exactly? Make sure he paid you more?” Now there is anger sharpening at the edges of Kara’s words, but not a dangerous kind of anger. It is a muted kind, one more self-directed.

A weariness makes itself known in Lena’s chest, heavy and confusing. “Yes,” she says. She has no qualms of stealing mergers from anyone, but somehow this time…this time, she feels a bit of pity. “He was making a fool out of you, Kara.  I stepped in, blackmailed him a little, and then he doubled his offer. That's how business works. You wouldn't know it because you're too naive, but—”

“Oh, I’m naive?” Kara laughs, but unkindly. Her expression is pinched; she makes a move to run her fingers through her hair, but it’s still somewhat upright, so she settles for clenching her hand into a fist. “Forgive me for trying to be a good person and not a cutthroat bitch.”

“There is no place for good people in our line of work.” Lena has long since mastered an impressive poker face, and she tries her best to remain impassive when she adds, “I suggest you get used to it. And while you're at it, you can make your way out of my house.” That seems to spark some kind of guilt—Kara slumps against the railing with a low, empty sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Kara apologizes lowly. “I didn’t mean that. I don’t think you’re a bitch at all.”

“I’ve heard worse.” Lena, in order to not see the look on Kara’s face, tries the lighter again. This time a flame emerges, flickering in the wind, thin and shaking. But it lights her cigarette all the same. “Do you smoke?” Only then does her gaze lift, and she sees Kara watching, now straightened to her full height.

“No.” Kara places her hands in her pockets, shifts sideways slightly. She is taller than Lena, and Lena inwardly berates herself for not wearing heels tonight. “Why?”

“Well I was going to offer you a cigarette, but I guess I won’t.” Lena takes a slow drag, feels her body warm with it. Smoking is a habit she can't seem to quit, and it's her one vice she's actually ashamed about. “Unless you want one anyway.”

Kara shakes her head. “No, I’d probably choke,” she declines. “It wouldn’t be very attractive.” The wind picks up; a few tendrils of hair that have escaped from her bun brush over her forehead, and she makes no move to tuck them away. “Knowing you, you would use that as blackmail for me next.”

Lena inhales smoke and sighs. “I already have enough blackmail material on you, Kara Danvers,” she says. This, too, is a fact.

“You do? Like what?”

“Like…I know you took over your cousin's company because of a kidnapping scandal involving your nephew.” Lena takes immense pleasure in the way Kara's eyes darken dangerously; she has always suspected there was some steel under that goody-goody exterior. “Clark Kent must have paid a pretty penny to the press to keep his little boy out of the papers.”

“That has nothing to do with me,” Kara says sharply.

Lena shrugs. “It's not bad blackmail material,” she points out. “Everyone loves a good sacrifice story. It would make you look heroic if it came to light.”

“It would put Clark and his family in danger.” Kara’s face twists into the harshest kind of disgust—the kind Lena expects. 

“Then you better hope I never have a reason to use it against you,” Lena says airily, stubbing her cigarette out; even smoking can’t bring her joy right now. Something about the way Kara stares at her—disappointedly—makes her skin crawl.

Kara takes a step towards Lena. They’ve gravitated close already, but this is deliberate. Her eyes, blue and sharp, are locked entirely on Lena’s. “Right,” she says. “Is that the best you can do? Threaten my family?”

Lena tilts her head up to meet her gaze head-on. “That’s just the surface of the knowledge I have on you,” she warns, and she leans in now, tugging at the undone knot of Kara’s tie. Kara comes when she is pulled, though she swallows hard enough that it’s audible.

“What else?” Kara asks. She breathes in tune with Lena now, their faces mere inches from each other.

“I also know…” Lena has more details about Kara Danvers. She does. But right now there’s one glaring fact right in front of her—one that is all too delicious to pass up. “I know that you want to kiss me right now.”

Kara stiffens; Lena feels it in the resistance of her tie. She jerks away a beat later, cheeks red and jaw clenched, to put some distance between them. “That’s,” she breathes out. “That is—” She can’t seem to be able to string her words together. “There you go again, with the mean streak. It’s not nice.”

“I thought we established I’m not nice,” Lena reminds her, an odd pang settles in the bottom of her stomach. “At least, not to anyone who poses a threat to Luthor Corp.”

“I’m not a threat to you or your company.”

“It’s not personal, Kara,” Lena says, and wishes she hadn’t put out her cigarette. “I have appearances to keep. You understand—it’s politics, all of it. Business politics.”

“So you hate me because I’m your competition?” Kara frowns. “Just like that?”

“I don’t hate you.” And as she confesses it, Lena realizes that it’s true. That maybe—maybe for once—she is also tired of fighting. “Even though I would like to, I don’t.”

“You want to hate me?” Something in Kara’s voice is raw, hopeful, and it hurts to hear. “Why?”

“I’m Lena Luthor. I’m supposed to be selfish and self-centered, remember? That’s the image everyone wants.” Fuck it; Lena reaches for her lighter again. But before she can, Kara’s hand covers hers.

“For the record,” Kara says, “I don’t hate you either.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Lena quips, casting an uncomfortable glance towards the balcony doors. Inside the party rages on, and no one is witnessing this show of weakness, but it doesn’t feel right. Lena feels exposed; there is no coming back from this,

Kara smiles and it’s faint, but a smile nonetheless. And for all her shortcomings—the messy state of her evening wear, the stubborn shade of blue of her eyes—Lena has to suck in a breath when Kara leans in. Her hand rests on Lena’s cheek, her skin frozen and her touch overwhelmingly gentle.

“You were right,” Kara says quietly. “I did want to kiss you tonight.” Her thumb traces a slow, steady path down Lena’s jaw, and Lena feels her heart hiccup. Then Kara surprises her—she leans in enough to brush a kiss to Lena’s cheek softly, cold breath exhaling against her skin. “You can add that to your blackmail list, too,” she says, stepping away, and when she places her hands in her pockets this time it’s with a sense of finality.

Lena almost lets her leave. But her heart thumps loudly in her ears and clouds her judgement entirely; she pulls Kara back, says “Wait—” and not much else, because then Kara is kissing her properly. Or maybe she is kissing Kara, winding her arms around Kara’s neck and squeezing her close because she fears the moment she will have to let go.

Kara is the first to break away. For a moment all she does is gaze down at Lena, bewildered, and says nothing. Then: “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to react.”

Lena bites her lip. “You could exploit this,” she says, “and use it as blackmail against me.”

“Right…or?”

“Or,” and Lena smooths out the collar of Kara’s shirt, which seems to be stained with some kind of liquor. “You could kiss me again.”

“Well, blackmail does sound fun.” And then Kara is smiling, soft and ridiculously wide, and Lena knows everything has changed.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Sweet Pandemonium - Gally (The Maze Runner) Part 3 of 16

Happy (late) Thanksgiving if you celebrate it! 🦃

~~~~~~~~~~

Yet another restless night and strange dreams had you up and atom as soon as the sun started to come up, and you managed to notice Minho going into the maze...with Alby.

Strange...Alby wasn’t a Runner.

You quickly got dressed in your usual Builder attire, wincing as you tried to get around your sprained arm, and headed over to Newt, who was walking back from the maze doors. “Dude, what the hell? Why is Alby going into the maze?” You asked hastily.

Newt sighed, keeping up with his pace back towards the Homestead. “He’s gone to retrace Ben’s steps. See why he might’ve been stung in the middle of the day.” He explained. “He’ll be fine, Y/N.” He said, sensing your apprehension towards the situation.

Gally didn’t take the news of Alby too well when he found out. He thought it was stupid, and understandably so. But he tried not to let it distract him from doing his job. Although, your obvious distraction caused him to get a little hotheaded.

“If you’re not gonna focus, then just go do something else.” Gally scolded.

“What? I-I’m not...distracted.” A lie, but not for the reasons Gally thought. You knew Alby could take care of himself, it was the newfound information that Thomas felt just like you is what was insanely distracting.

Gally chuckled bitterly. “Yeah...right. Just go hang out with your new buddy or something.”

Your heart seemed to clench at Gally’s hurtful tone, but you chose to wear a bored expression and listened to his petty request. “Fine.”

Newt smirked when he saw your scowl as you walked over to their little group, clutching you machete tightly. “Trouble in paradise?” He teased.

You held up your middle finger, proceeding to kneel down beside Zart to help him cut down a tree base with your good arm, which was thankfully your dominant one. “Never been paradise.” You muttered. “He’s upset about Alby.”

“Don’t bring it up, please. Tommy and I just had a lengthy conversation about it.” Newt sighed, giving an irritated glance over to the Greenie who was sitting on a log with Chuck.

Thomas rolled his eyes, getting up to help cut down the last of the tree. “There ya go, Greenie.”

You looked up towards the sky, noticing the darkening of the clouds and the cooler air, soon feeling the cool water raining down. “Great.” You mumbled, gathering your tools and heading to the Homestead along with everyone else.

You and Gally met each other’s gaze while walking towards cover from the rain, he seemed remorseful, but he looked away and continued forward. “You alright?” Thomas asked from beside you.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine. What about you?”

Thomas sighed. “I’m worried about Minho and Alby. Shouldn’t they be back by now?”

You shrugged, trying not to think about losing even more Gladers, but Thomas was less than satisfied with that answer and went to Newt.

Instead of following after Thomas, you went deeper into the Homestead, heading towards her hammock just to rest your feet while you could, also trying to ignore the aching in your arm.

You didn’t know how much you could take of this. Spending your whole life in a prison, constantly watching your new friends die one after another. It was sickening. You didn’t want this to be your life. It couldn’t be. You felt like Thomas felt the same way, but you couldn’t be sure just like you couldn’t be sure if he felt the same way about your “connection.”

God, you were so tired.

“Y/N?”

You sighed when you saw Gally looking to you with a face of slight concern. “What is it?” You asked, not exactly trying to sound polite.

Gally scratched the back of his neck and took a step forward to you. “I just wanna say...I’m...sorry.” He said, sounding like just saying the words were painful. “I’m just worried, I guess. About Alby.”

You nodded, understanding as you felt the same way. Though, being worried didn’t cause you to be overly mean to someone, but you didn’t feel that saying it out loud would get the conversation anywhere. “I get it. I’m worried too.”

“Can I sit?” Gally asked, pointing to your hammock.

You blushed slightly, but nodded anyway, scooting over a bit to give him room to sit comfortably.

Trying not to blush was extremely difficult as it was, so trying not to blush when Gally sat right beside you, his body slightly leaning against yours, it was damn near impossible.

“If I hurt your feelings, Y/N, I’m sorry.” Gally sighed. “The whole thing with Ben...”

“It’s okay, Gally.” You gave a reassuring smile, gently taking a hold of his larger hand. You almost grinned when you saw his face flush red. “Ben didn’t deserve to be stung. He was a good guy.” You said, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

“All he wanted was to find a way out...look where that got him.” Gally huffed, making you frown. “These shanks just gotta realize this is our home now.”

You shook her head. “This isn’t our home, Gally. Someone put us here, mostly likely against our will. This will never be our home.”

Gally scoffed. “Come on, Y/N.”

“We shouldn’t have to settle for this. We don’t belong here.” You sighed, getting up from your hammock as you heard the rain stop thumping against the building.

Everyone gathered at the maze doors, waiting to see if the two Runner boys were alive, if they make it back before the doors closed.

Newt was visibly on edge, as was Thomas. The rest of the Gladers basically had the mentally that Minho and Alby were goners. Gally stood beside you as you were biting your nails nervously. You weren’t particularly close with Alby, but hanging around Newt meant hanging around Minho, therefore you were his friend by association.

As the doors groaned loudly, you let out a quiet whimper, running your fingers through your hair furiously as the doors started to close. Gally placed his hand on your shoulder to try and comfort you in some way, but it didn’t do much when Thomas pointed out two shadowy figured at the end of the entrance passage of the maze.

“It’s them!” Thomas yelled.

But something was wrong.

Minho was dragging an unconscious Alby by his arms. The doors were still closing rapidly, all the Gladers yelling words of encouragement toward Minho...he wasn’t going to make it.

“Thomas, no!” You yelled along with the rest of the Glader boys, watching in horror as he made a run for it before the doors closed completely.

If it weren’t for Gally keeping a firm hand on your shoulder, you would’ve absolutely ran after Thomas, probably getting crushed to death in process. “No! Fuck!” You yelled, shoving Gally off of you and storming off towards the woods.

“Y/N! Wait! Goddamn it...” Gally called out after you, trying to jog to catch up with you. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He yelled when he finally found you.

“What?” You yelled.

“You were gonna go after that slinthead! Why the fuck would you do that, huh?” Gally fussed, making you groan and roll your eyes. “Answer me!”

“I know him!” You let out in a rage, immediately sighing in frustration.

Gally furrowed his brows. “What...what do you mean you know him?” He asked, almost accusatory.

“I...I don’t remember him. I just feel like I know him, or knew him. Before the maze, and I don’t know why. It’s confusing, I know. But it’s something I can just feel in my gut.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

You sighed. “I know...trust me, I know. I didn’t ask for this.”

“Even if you did somehow knew him before coming here, that doesn’t mean you have to risk your life for him. It was stupid. And if I wasn’t there, you’d be dead right now.” Gally scolded, and then he sighed. “Do you...have feelings for him?”

You snapped your head up towards Gally with a look of shock. You definitely never expected to hear that come from his mouth. “What? No!”

“Don’t lie to me, please.”

“No! I don’t, geez. I like you, shuckface!”

Gally paled. He wasn’t exactly expecting that either. “You do?” He stuttered.

You rolled your eyes for, probably, the tenth time that day. “Yes, you twit. I thought that was obvious.”

Gally seemed speechless for a moment, placing his hands on his hips while looking to the ground. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You chuckled bitterly. “When would I have had the time?”

He shrugged. “You did now.” You sighed yet again. “I’d kiss you, but you seem to be in a state of distress...”

You gave him an incredulous look. “And you’re not distressed? I know you don’t like Thomas, but Minho and Alby?”

“I do care, okay? But they’re gone now...there’s nothing we could’ve done.”

“There was though! We could’ve sent someone to find them!”

“It’s against the rules, you know that.”

“Just something! Not just stand there and wait...” Your voice wavered.

Gally sighed, taking some steps toward you until he was right in front of you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry...that we couldn’t save them.” He said, pulling you into a hug while you just let tears fall freely from your eyes.

“They could still make it...” You whispered, making Gally huff and release his hold on you.

“Y/N...you can’t be this dense. You know no one-”

“Survives a night in the maze, I know. But Thomas is different...”

Gally rolled his eyes, running his hands over his face with a groan. “I can’t listen to you drive yourself crazy over this. They’re gone, okay! They’re probably already dead. So just stop trying to convince yourself that they’re not. It’s the best, for you and the others.”

“Gally-”

“Drop it.” He deadpanned, turning and storming off towards the Homestead.

You didn’t want to believe him. You couldn’t. You couldn’t believe the first person you felt you might’ve known outside the Glade was dead after just days of meeting him.

So you kept telling yourself Thomas will survive. Minho can survive. And Alby.

You didn’t speak to Gally at all after that conversation.

A lot of the Gladers thought you were insane, believing that there could be any hope for the three boys. Some of them were just curious, them all sitting scattered around the maze doors. But Chuck was standing right beside you, just anxious for those large doors to open.

You were grateful for Chuck.

You definitely felt a bit protective of him, since he was the youngest. It made you wonder if you had any siblings in the outside world, if they were even alive. If you did, you hoped that at least one of your parents were alive to take care of them if they were on the younger side. 

But you probably would never know.

You and Chuck’s ears immediately perked up when the doors started to groan, signaling that they were about to open for the day.

Newt was anxious to see if the boys made it as well. He didn’t want to lose any more friends. Even if he did go out to the Deadheads to cry out his frustration, he pretty much had already come to terms with the losses as soon as the doors closed yesterday evening.

You nervously starting biting off some of the rougher skin around your nails as the doors slowly parted open, just hoping that you’d see those three boys waiting to come back inside the Glade.

You winced when you accidently bit too much skin off, looking down to see crimson already start to bead at the surface of your thumb.

You sighed.

It felt like this was the longest time it’s ever taken for the doors to open. Probably because your anxiety was in overdrive, basically on the verge of a panic attack, but you didn’t let it show. You couldn’t, not when Newt would absolutely send you off to Jeff to do those stupid breathing exercises that you hated when you first came up in the Box.

Gally wasn’t at the doors, obviously. You knew he wouldn’t, not even for you. He was adamant that his fellow Gladers were already dead. God, you never wanted someone to be wrong so bad.

And yet, the doors now fully opened...there was no one on the other side.

You felts tears burning your eyes as Newt placed his hands on you and Chuck’s shoulders, but you refused to let them fall. “I’m sorry...but I told you, they’re not comin’ back.” Newt said sadly.

“Come on, Y/N.” Chuck sighed, dejectedly turning around to head back towards the middle of the Glade.

You almost did too...until you heard the shuffling of feet from inside the maze. So did Chuck.

You gasped when you saw Minho and Thomas carrying Alby. “No way...”

“Yeah!” Chuck cheered, while you ran into the maze corridor to help the two boys carry a still unconscious Alby, while all the other Gladers came back to witness this...a miracle really. It was against the rules, but couldn’t care less.

“How?” Was all you could say, in shock and awe.

“Just help us get this shank inside, will ya?” Minho grunted, while Thomas gave you an exhausted smile.

“Easy, easy.” Thomas said while lowering Alby to the ground, the Gladers surrounding the three boys.

“You saw a Griever?” Chuck asked, seeing that Alby was stung when Jeff looked over him.

“Yeah, I saw one.” Thomas panted.

Minho seemed to smirk, making you furrow your brows in confusion. “He didn’t just see it...he killed it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

My computer is basically dead and off at a shop but probs won’t be fixed soon due to Thanksgiving. So, I’m writing this on a friend’s laptop and the keyboard is so small lmao. So I apologize for any misspellings because of my fat fingers. 

[likesomekindofcheese]

Promised Part Five (The Great Mini-series, Arranged Marriage AU)

A/N: Here it finally is!!!! Sorry it took forever, life happens.

Word Count: 4K

Summary: When the Emperor’s behavior gets your families alliance with Russia in danger, you agree to marry his best friend Grigor in order to make sure the alliance does not fall apart. You’re tossed into the Russian court and into the arms and bed of a Russian count, dodging his jealous ex lover, trying to survive the unpredictability.... but...what about yuou two? Are you and Grigor finally...feeling something for each other?

Warnings: Swearing, drunkeness, mentions of sex and nudity, marriage, and an in universe reference I couldn’t resist.

“Come here Sonya! Come here!” Lady Svenska cooed, wiggling her fingers.

The puppy trotted to her and she squealed in delight.

Tatiana bent her knees, her lime green dress bunching below her like icing on a cake as she did.

“Sonya! Sonya come!” she gestured.

With a happy trot, Sonya waddled over. She reached up, her tiny tail wagging.

“Oooo, good girl! Good girl!”

You had been invited to a tea party with the other ladies. Although you had gotten closer to the empress, you feared if they would see you as an enemy. Especially hearing of Catherine’s last tea party with them. So walking in, you brought your secret weapon. And it worked.

The only woman it seemed who was not having the time of her life with what was happening was Georgiana. Dressed in her purple gown and largest wig, she sat a little slumped on the couch. She was sipping her tea every now and then but crossing her arms. She stared daggers at the dog and how it trotted. She preferred any small circle that came over to obsess over the latest scandalous affair, but even then she kept one eye on Sonya as if the dog was a wolf ready to attack. She didn’t dare say a word to you. And you didn’t say a word to her. But if there was nothing said, then nothing bad could happen.

Smiling, you helped yourself to a red macaroon, delighting in the crunch and cream of it’s taste. Lady Svenska walked over to you and asked.

“Can she do tricks?” she questioned.

“Almost. She’s getting better at walking. She used to pull and run a lot, but she’s better at being obedient.”

“And she doesn’t tear things up?” she asked.

“Only sometimes. I have to watch where my dresses are stored,” you answered.

“Ah! She’s such a good dog! How lovely of you to bring her here, Madame Dymov!”

Georgiana’s eyes went dark.

“Will you come to our ball throwing this evening! It is most fun! Mine might go another inch!”

“I’d be delighted to! And be sure to tell me more about that maid with the baron old enough to be her grandfather too! And with copous details!” you added on.

“Oh! I do like you! And what of the Empress?”

“Well, we read. And we chat…”

“But all that reading!? Isn’t it time consuming!”

“A little. Her books can take time. I reread pages over and over…but in the best way. I suppose. It keeps her happy.”

“If you have any gossip about her, please share!”

“I..I, uh, will!” you promise.

“First of all, have you any plans or gifts to give her on her birthday, it’s coming up in about a month!”

“Hmm, I don’t know…” you mumbled.

At that moment your husband entered the room. He seemed a little uncomfortable with all of the flowers and pastel dresses, eyeing birds singing ditties in shiny cages and macaroons piled to his chest on platters.

“Oh, Y/N…where is Y/N?” he asked to one lady in a pink dress and grey wig.

She pointed in your direction and he smiled.

As he walked by, he passed the couch where Georgiana was sitting. Her shoe tapped his calf and he turned.

“Hello, Grigor…” she said with a faded grin.

“Hello, George,” he replied politely. Somehow, your blood felt hot. But yet, the marriage was over, so what if they even talked? He probably just enjoyed you talking with him and occasionally sleeping with him. But no, they had to be soulmates. And it was better not to disturb them. After all, despite the suddenness of the marriage, it would work. He would be happy.

“How is the party?” he asked, hands placed behind the back.

“Going perfect. We’re being introduced to the loud, hairy creature that lifts her leg when she pisses. Her dog is there too.” She quipped with a surprisingly relieved smile.

You froze. Little Sonya recognized Grigor and ran up to him, oblivious to how white his face was turning. A few fans were spread, and you barely heard feminine whispers of “…quite bitchy…” It got a little quiet. Even with the string quartet in the back was playing at a piano as if they wanted to hear what would happen next to.

Getting up, you turned around to leave them alone. Let them take it out. Let him laugh, Let her smile. Maybe even fuck against the wall like you noticed the odd couple doing on a night of reveling in the palace, no matter who might see or hear.

“George. I can’t control what you do on your own. But when you are with me, you will not speak about my wife in that matter.”

Pausing, you turned around. A couple quiet tears fell down your cheeks.

“You’re an esteemed lady of the court with the world at your fingertips. She’s a poor creature thrown into an arranged marriage, stolen from another country, and little to never to see any of her family or friends again while you just lay down and let Peter put fruit in your pussy and drink champagne.”

Wiping away tears with your hands, you stood still, not sure what to say. Grigor continued, truly angered and passionate.

“I didn’t marry her because of you. And she didn’t marry me so she could have my cock when you couldn’t. I did this so that we all- we all-“ he gestured to the people in the room “won’t be fucking ripped apart by Swede’s in a fortnight thanks to her families army. You will show her what little compassion you have in your tiny heart. You could even show her an ounce of gratitude for the sacrifice she and I made for the safety of everyone here, including yours. Or else I could have said no and let the swedes stab you in your tits when you’re asleep in the emperor’s bed. And I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it too. But I did.”

She froze. There was even a couple of gasps.

Scooping the tiny dog in his arms, he turned ot you promptly.

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I…I am…” you answered. “But I’m tired, let’s go home and play cards.”

“I agree.”

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

 A week later, Grigor had partied so much with the Emperor last night, wrestling and playing with some man named Leon or whoever. You peaked in the door, and yawning, retired to your own apartments to sleep even if alone.

Waking up briefly in the grey air, you felt him crawling into bed at four in the morning. So you let him sleep in as you took Sonya on her morning walk. Besides, she would pout and whine if you didn’t walk at her certain time.

“Here you go, I know, Papa can’t be there-but I will,” you assured the dog.

You made your way through the halls into the gardens. Sonya was already getting bigger. The collar and leash made for her a while ago was getting snug on her fluffy body.

Enjoying the forest, you heard the rhythmic crunch of the leaves and sticks beneath Sonya’s prancing paws. The cold air stung your lungs in the best way. The sky looked clear and crisp.

Sonya pointed her snout in one direction. She began pulling and barking.

“What is it? Some sort of creature!” you thought, walking forward.

It wasn’t a mouse of squirrel, there was a person slumped against a tree, sitting on the dirt. Walking closer, you made out a dark green skirt and a hat, but a head of dark, curly hair made loose. She reeked of vodka and beer. Her face was pale to where she seemed ill, rather than the lovely cream color of her skin. And beneath her eyes there were several bags.

“G..Georgiana…”

She turned her head to you, squinting.

“Yes…” she grunted.

“What are you doing here?”

She began to laugh a little, bitterly.

“I could ask the same…what are you doing here?”

“I’m walking Sonya…she needs to be exercised so she won’t get into trouble from being bored,” you explained, gripping the leash.

“Huh, I know sometimes…sometimes Grigor goes with you…” her voice was deep and throaty, far from her usual speaking tone. As if every word was choked up.

She seemed so pitiful you didn’t have the heart to chafe her.

“Yes, yes he does…”

Her exhausted eyes wandered forward into the grove of trees. She kept speaking to you.

“Sometimes we’d walk together. Only if it was nice. We did everything together. Walking. Eating. Dancing. Bathing together. Did you know…I even got my portrait painted and he kept it in his room! Right next to his bed…he…he cared for me so much to where I was right there with him every morning even when I wasn’t next to him and now…now he hates me…”

She began to sniffle, and a few tears worked up.

“No. No, I don’t think he hates you at all…”

“Why did he speak to me that way?”

“He just…he got emotional. And he has been emotional because he loves you. He’s every bit as sad as you are for not marrying…”

Sonya walked over to the crying woman. Alerted by the sounds, she walked over and sniffed at her wet face. She broke out  a smile.

“But the truth is…in this court, there’s plenty of women who’ve fucked Peter. More than half. That’s just a fact of life. But I… I love it. I love having men want me, being worshipped, loved, is that wrong?”

“It’s normal,” you admitted. “it’s normal to want to be loved.”

“And the things it gives you. It’s not the least bad. I have all sorts of things. Dresses. Hats. A high position in court. Security. Comfort. Occasionally I can change laws and save lives with just a word-imagine that! And jewels. Jewels I used to dream of having. And I get to enjoy making love to a man who’s skilled at it. It might be the only way for a woman here to move up. That’s the way it is, is that wrong? Is it wrong to enjoy fucking and love a man too? For them to be separate men? They do it all the time and no one bats an eye bit when I do…”

She finally fell down into sobs.

“And he just...he couldn’t accept it. He claimed he loved me, and I… I love him, I still do, he just couldn’t accept me as I am and this world as it is…I thought he knew me…and that I knew him…”

She began to cry more; Sonya reached over and began to lick her face. She laughed at the ridiculous feeling of a dog’s tongue right on your nose and you began to laugh too.

“Georgiana…I’m so sorry I yelled at you that first day…I saw you as a threat and didn’t stop to think what you would feel. How I would feel if I was in your shoes…”

“Ugh, you’re…you’re as saccharine as…as…I don’t even know, Y/N. I’d put you in my…my mouth and my blood would rush, and they’d have to let it out with slugs.”

Taking out a handkerchief, you began to wipe her tears from her face.

“I’m not the one in tears…but…he used to keep a portrait of you…” you questioned.

“He did…is it there? Maybe….”

“Not anymore…” you explained flatly.

So that explained the circular area on the wall next to the bed.

“I know you really do love Grigor. And you care for him…but loving someone is hard. I love my family and friends back home, or unless I wanted to make all of them suffer or even get killed, I had to let them go to come here…sometimes, there are things you have to let go and move on from…” you assured her. You aren’t a bad person for wanting those things. You’re a smart person for figuring out how to get them. I admire you for it.”

“I just keep wondering…I keep wondering what would happen if he said yes…if he agreed to the terms…we’d be so happy…”

And he would see you with Peter and be miserable. Then god knows what would happen you thought.

You took her arm and helped her to her shaky legs.

“But there’s no use in that. Here, let’s get you back to the palace. I think after you get some water and some sleep, you might feel better…”

“But Y/N, Grigor I think…he’s in denial how Peter works here. If a woman needs anything in court, and if Peter picks you…he picks you. And, well, there’s nothing you can do about it…”

Your stomach lurched.

    “Grigor might want a faithful wife. He might’ve thought he got that with you but…defying the Emperor is a risk. Too huge. Why say no? After all, he’s a genius at fucking so it could be worse…”

“You need water, Georgiana. And you need to clean up. Then you’ll feel better…” you interrupted, trying to mother her away and ignoring the fear in your gut.

 But as you were strolling later in the week, returning from another one of the Empresses’s private discussions, you saw a few ladies eye down at the book. Perhaps they judged you. Perhaps they were jealous. But one bespecaled face saw you, smiled, and then hurried up.

“Orlo! How are you?”

“Y/N-er-Madame Dymov! Enough about me already- I heard the Empress gave you a copy of the Rousseau! What do you think!?” he asked excitedly.

His dark eyes glittered at the book in your hands. Holding it up to him you let him inspect it.

“I was…I was shocked at first. His ideas felt like…like a blast of cold wind. But I…he made good points. And I found myself agreeing after some time…” you explained with a shrug.

“He’s one of my favorites, and tehre’s so much…so much inside there. But I…I wish I could explain it all…”

“Let’s go to my place, I’ll call for a plate...” you offered with a shrug and a smile.

Introducing him to the drawing room, he settled down shyly on the seat in front of the fire. You brought in some tea with a strawberry cake and wound up talking for a straight hour. He got his own turn to pet on little Sonya as she licked his fingers from the cake crumbs. You discussed Rousseau, then he went on to talk about Voltaire, Plato, Paine. Ideas stretched you and you found yourself talking about things you could never imagine debating about with anyone. About people. Power. Faith. Life. Death. Purpose, if there was one at all. Your cup became cold and you had to reheat it by pouring some liquid into it.

Orlo glowed as he explained it all. He was not condescending. In fact, it felt like being in school with  a good teacher. You understood and appreciated it even more. You were amazed with the depth of knowledge he had. Beneath his mousy exterior, there was a brilliant mind. Perhaps even genius. You were amazed in him. Strands of his hair loosened out and he smiled more, seeming relaxed and confident. Far more confident than you ever knew him to be in public.

“But out of all of them, I think my favorite is…”

The door creaked as it opened.

His head turned and you saw Grigor walking in. His face was pink, and his eyebrows crossed.

“Hello Orlo, what are you doing with my wife?” he asked, his lips tight and his voice firm.

“I, uh…” he found himself blubbering. His posture slouched and his hands retreated.

Standing at once, you walked up to Grigor with as much poise as you could.

“The empress gifted me with a book and Orlo was asking me about it over tea, nothing more…” you explained plainly.

“It’s fascinating. Isn’t it!” you added, throwing back a look.

Orlo nodded shyly, getting out of the seat like it had spikes.

“Very.”

“Oh, alright…” Grigor replied quietly.

Once Orlo thanked you for hosting him and shuffled out, Grigor’s eyes never left his steps.

 He was quiet over dinner. You had to ask questions about his day and have Sonya’s begging fill the silence. Later, you changed into your nightgown to see Grigor was already in bed.

You saw him curl up to the other side. Not turning around, holding the blanket over his shoulders and leaving your side disproportionally cold.

With a huff, you placed your hands on your hips.

“What is it?” You had a guess, but you wanted to hear it from him.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong” he said in a tone that said something was definitely wrong.

“What is it…tell me…” you wheedled, sitting on the bed and leaning closer to him.

He turned around.

“I understand we agreed to follow orders to marry. Not for us. Our countries, the safety of your family and for their workers and tenets to not go hungry, for protection, the alliance, and for Russia to succeed against the Swedes… but I know you didn’t choose to marry me…if you…if you…are in love… then I guess it would make it easier…but you will at least be honest with me and not play around when you fall in love with some man!”

“In love? With Orlo?!” you added.

His head snapped back at the sound of his name.

“If you love the prick, then that’s fine! It will make you bear being here better- it’s all fine!” He if it will make you bear this, bear being married to me…”

“I’m not in love with Orlo!” you laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinched a little, but didn’t turn away.

“What…you aren’t? Both of you always talk together.”

 “I always talk with the empress, and Tatyana and everyone else too. They’re my friends. He’s my friend as well… and…I…I promised you I won’t hurt you. That I will do my best not to hurt you…and you’re obviously hurt…” you reasoned.

The clock chimed the hour in the back.

“I…yes, I was…I had memories of when…you know…” he muttered out, looking down.

You folded your arms and turned away from him.

“Well, have you ever kissed Georgiana since our marriage? I guess you can run back to her, like I’m apparently running to Orlo. Should I be worried about her?”

“Uh-no! Not at all! We’ve barely talked since the betrothal! I talk more to Sonya than I do to her in a fortnight!” he said, pointing to the dog curled asleep on her pillow.

You crossed your arms and started to laugh a little. A smile cracked on his thin face as well.

“If I have no reason to suspect you of anything with George, you have no reason to suspect anything of me and Orlo!” you reasoned with a shrug.

Leaning forward, you pulled more of the cover to your side. He relented.

 Both of you were tense. Words left your voice.

“Just dinner and drinks with your friend, nothing more. Perfectly normal.” You assured.

Even if it meant eating in his chambers with large portraits all over the wall and a big green bed on the other side. Peter stood up and greeted you both. His arms were wide, pearls dangling from his neck.

“Ah, hello! Join me!” Peter cheered. “Grigor-make yourself at home! There’s already some food.

You carefully walked in, placing yourself on the couch and folded your hands in front of your lap. Unsure of what to do or say. A finger nudged you.

“Here, Y/N…here’s the seat for you!” your husband said, taking his large hands around your waist and picking you up as you let out a smile.

Grigor placed you on his lap, like he did on your wedding. Smiling, you accepted the feeling of him nearby and settled your weight. The closeness far more natural than ever. Grigor’s arms were warm as they passed dishes around from one man to the Emperor. A serf poured a Kiev vdoka and you enjoyed yourselves.

“I tell you- fucked a horse! It’s just a rumor-but can you believe it!” he said.

Laughing in spite of yourself, you shook your head insisting “no, I don’t!”

Smiling. Laughing. Everything felt normal. You laughed so hard you almost snorted your drinkand covered your mouth, laughing more at the dirtier humor. Years ago, your mother would have become so uncomfortable at such words she would excuse herself and complain about it later. Laughs held back were finally released, you jaw uhrt and your cheeks felt hot.

“And that’s what hapoens when you use the duck whistle on the balcony-“Oh, Grigor! Have I fucked your wife yet?”

The drink you were sipping almost spat out of your mouth and you coughed it out. Both of you froze again. You felt Grigor tense up. His breath quickened. His face turned white and then red and then white again. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.

Turning your head back, you began to give a charming smile at the emperor, even giving the little half smile you noticed to do. You decided if the subject came up, you would be prepared.

“Your highness, of yes, of course we’ve fucked. Several times!” you said.

Where he couldn’t see, you kicked Grigor’s leg to alert him.

“Oh, really!” he said.

“Ah! What a Casanova you are, Emperor! Losing track! But…”

You circled the rim of your glass, and then added on.

“I have an eternally dry pussy, can’t suck cock to save my life, and an ass so tight that deflects any object near the hole so it’s been rather disappointing. It’s a miracle my husband tolerates me. He’s hardly been able to finish the job!”

He tilted his head, pondering it with a hmmmm. Glancing at Grigor, you quickly mouthed “play along.” His eyes bright, he nodded at you, and then to the Emperor in agreement.

“Yes! Fucking Y/N is a total disappointment. Remember her place? They’re boring, plain people even when fucking.”

Peter nodded in agreement, his eyes up to the sky as if thinking about the fake experience. Not that it was to think.

“Humph. I…I think you’re right. It was disappointing. Grigor, if you need me to order you a whore, let me know.”

You kept your hand on his and you saw his eyes dart in confusion and realization, his brain thinking a hundred thoughts.

“Please pour me another drink…” you said, holding your cup to a serf.

“Besdies, Catherine…she’s been having all these ideas about art. And I saw a portrait and I…I cried! I fucking cried-can you believe it? I never knew she could..could even make me feel like that!”

 As you left the chambers, you squeezed his hand. Both of you let out a breath and continued some nervous laughter until you were both home.

“That was brilliant!” He praised, sinking in relief in the chair. There was already a fire crackling, drawing warmth into the chilly room.

“I knew he would bring it up, soon. So, I might as well. Now you don’t have to worry about anything…at least for now…” you said with a shrug.

“Oh, but the party tomorrow…you’ll be careful. I think people will be very merry and he might…get carried away…”

“Just give him a galloon a vodka then, he’ll won’t be able to stand.”

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

As the party the next night raged on, it struck you that it was Grigor who was well on his way to drinking a gallon of vodka. The rooms glowed yellow orange with all of the candles. Stringed guitars played out dancing tunes with throaty Russian lyrics where although the words were hard to understand, you had to tap your toes. Women walked by with snakes draped over their necks and you stared in frightened awe at the creature, as if in Eden. Your own gown was a pale pink with bows on the stomacher, a ruffled skirt beneath the first one, and you hair done up in flowers and feathers. You even agreed to wear a beauty mark of a small dog on your cheek. Girgor himself had a grey wig and his finest, deep green suit. He eyed plates of vodka, reaching for two small glasses and downing them…and supper would be served in an hour.

You noticed and Empress and Emperor dancing. She swished her pale pink skirt and he twirled in a black skirt, carefree. It was almost like watching a fight, how they were both powerful yet matched each other.”

“Come on, you sad bastards!? Why aren’t you dancing!? Dance! I command you!” Peter cried out in joy.

“Y/N! Y/N- we haven’t danced too much-let’s dance! Dance with me!” Grigor insisted, pulling you further down.

“Grigor, that’s the vodka talking!”

The musicians were warming up for the next piece in the corner.

“I…I don’t know the…” you mumbled in a panic as other couples filled the floor.

“Oh no-just follow me!” He said with a big smile and his face flushed.

  Still you ran out with him, mimicking hand movements and your feet trying to keep up with the steps. If you felt him leading you somewhere, you followed. If you sepearted in lines, you kept an eye on him.

“Girgor…do the trick! The trick!” Peter insisted, running up in the middle.

Eyes wide, you saw your husband grab hold of your body.

“Here. Y/N! I can do it- hold on! Jump up.

He lifted you up in his arms and twirled you up, his arms adjusting to hold you up so that he held you up by your legs, your stomach to his face. You could hear him muffling beneath your clothes.

“We need smof practif…”

But Peter laughed and you heard loud applauding as faces turned to look at you. Even George’s own face had a smile, albeit a sad one.

He set you down.

“Let’s try it again, put your leg on my shoulder…now your other leg..ooof! Now, this one is better!”

He lifted you up so high, you realized you were on his shoulders, and emabarrasingly his head was near your crotch. The court applauhded and laughed and huzzahed. It was so fun you almost forgot your fear of being dropped. you laughed as you held onto his shoulders for deaer life, thrilled to see everyone smaller before you. As if they dhrunk or you became a giant. The chandeliers dripping with diamonds were easy to your touch, your fingertips grazed one as Grigor walked in a circle.

“Ha! I knew you could do it good chap!” Peter applauded before asking.

Grigor placed you down with a smile, he placed his hands on your cheeks and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, then his eyes wandered to some vodka and he took another shot.

 He was singing as the party ended late in the night. You struggled to support him over your shoulders.

“Grigor…be careful…”

Once you got into the room, Sonya woke up from her nap and barked, jumping at your feet. Staggering, you brought him to your bedchambers.

“Let’s get your clothes off…” you said, pulling his coat off and placing it on the floor.

“You wish to see me naked, you could’ve asked, darling…”

Sighing, you poured the hot water into the golden tub.

“If you don’t bathe, then you’re sleeping with Sonya…”

He leaned down in his shift and breeches to the wagging tail beneath him.

“Oh….hello doggie, cute doggie…good doggie…”

“To bath, Grigor!”

Eventually, you got him to bathe enough to where he didn’t reek of alcohol. Once he dried off, you pushed his breeches onto him.

“None of that tonight with you drunk off your head!”

“Can’t I at least kiss you?” he complained childishly.

“Fine, but it stops at kissing!”

Once you finally settled within your own sheets, legs and feet sore from dancing, you barely put the blankets over you when  you felt two large arms wrap themselves around you and hug you tight, pulling you close. He laughed a bit before kissing you on top of your head. You smirked and let him obloge. Then you felt him relax.

“Y/N, I love you….”

You froze solid, your stomach dropping.

“What?”

He took a hand and placed it on your cheek again, before it sloppily fell down.

“Y/N, my sweet angel…I love you…”

Shaking your head, you pulled the covers above you both.

“That’s the vodka talking, now go to sleep….”

He went back to holding you, turning you so that your back was turned to him, you felt and smelt his breath as he kept speaking.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m falling in love with you this minute and…I’m fucking terrified…”

You let his arms settle.

“Don’t wanna…get hurt, get shat on…but every day I’m….falling more in love with you…and it makes me both so happy and scared I could fucking scream…that was why Orlo fucking scared me, and Peter, that wonderful, bastard. I love him, but if he lays a hand on you, I swear to god…”

“Grigor…you need to sleep. You’re drunk. Only time will wear it off.”

Besides, it was better to not get your hopes up.

‘I can’t believe I’m fucking falling in fucking love all over again…never thought after George that I would….never would let myself…thought ”

“But Grigor…you….”

“I’d like to see you…see you happy. See your smiling face before I sleep.”

You gave him a small smile and his eyes fluttered shut.

“Grigor…do you…do you love me….do you really love me…”

You gave him a small smile. He then rolled on his belly, spread like a starfish. He was snoring deeply in minutes.

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you too…” you wanted to say.

taglist:  @retropetalss @queenlover05 @joesleee   @grigorlee@itsametaphorgwil @always-a-fairycat @foxinaforestofstars @simonedk @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @queenlover05 @xviiarez @kiainspace @gwilymleeisbae @writeroutoftime @staradorned @iwritefanficnotprophecies @panagiasikelia @marshmxllowfluf @rhapsodyrecs @sebastiistan​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @gwiilymslee @isitstraightvodka​ @cherry--coke​

[rhysismydaddy]

After Midnight pt. 3 (Feysand)

Part 1 | Part 2

Uhhh this is kinda long and took me FOREVER to write which was v annoying. Disclaimer: stole a line from Grey’s Anatomy what’s new

____________________________________________________________

~Feyre~

I’m aware that pacing is one of my bad habits. My ex told me all the time how it drove him crazy to watch me go back and forth, back and forth. Most of the time, I can catch myself doing it and stop. 

But right now, I think I’d find a way to pace even if I were chained to a tree. 

Because I’m so freaking nervous about Rhysand coming over that I’m practically coming out of my skin. 

Which is ridiculous, because the man has seen me naked, for gods sake. 

He’s done more than just see, too. 

And yet the thought of him staying here, sleeping next to me all night, has me ready to run for the hills. Somehow, sharing a bed is more intimate to me than having sex to me. 

It’s fucked up, I know. 

But the last man I shared a bed with... 

There was a level of trust there, and it was broken. And knowing that this is the only way to rebuild the ability to give that trust doesn’t make it any easier. 

I also know that if I go downstairs, I’ll end up drinking myself stupid to make this easier, so I’ve asked Rhysand to just meet me up here. And to make myself even more miserable, I’m early. 

I mean, I’m always a few minutes early, but I somehow forgot we decided to meet later than usual and got here an hour ago. 

Which gave me plenty of time to start freaking out. 

A knock on the door snaps me out of my nerves-induced pace, and I tiptoe to the door and look through the peephole, both excited and anxious when I see Rhysand there. 

Just like last week, he's wearing dark pants and a thin white shirt that does nothing to hide the body underneath. I think he does it to drive me crazy, honestly, because the sight of all that tattooed muscle-

“Are you going to let me in?”

Shit.

I swing the door open, already blushing, and say, “Sorry.”

He looks down at me, full lips pulling into a smirk. “Hi, Feyre.”

The way he says my name is somehow so full of innuendo it threatens to send my cheeks scarlet, but I say politely, “Hi, Rhys.”

He walks into the room, dropping a backpack I refuse to acknowledge on the floor. “How was your week?”

Well, I spent the entire seven days fretting about what might happen tonight and was barely able to eat anything, so not that great. “It was fine. Yours?”

His lips twitch. “Also fine.”

Then he gives the biggest, fakest yawn I’ve ever seen--throwing in a stretch, too--and says, “Well, I’m exhausted. Want to go to bed?”

He’s so damn nice, it makes me want to slap him. “Okay,” I agree, walking to one side of the bed and pulling the covers back. 

I’m already dressed in my sleep shorts and a tank top, but grabs his bag and heads to the bathroom. 

I can do this, I tell myself, not at all believing it. He’s nice, and it’s just sleeping. Most women would kill to sleep next to someone who looks like him. 

The last part of that thought is confirmed a second later when Rhysand steps out of the bathroom in low-hanging shorts and nothing else. 

His tan chest is on full display, and even though I’ve seen and touched every inch of it, I find myself studying it once again. 

I suddenly wish I had a paintbrush and an empty canvas.

The urge shocks me. I haven’t thought about painting, haven’t yearned to pick up a brush, since before everything happened. If I’m being honest, long before everything happened. 

“I thought we weren’t doing anything sexual tonight,” he murmurs, voice a little deeper. 

“We aren’t,” I confirm, forcing my eyes to his perfectly innocent chin. 

“Well then put your horny eyes away,” he scolds with a smile, walking over to flop on his half of the bed. 

I smother a laugh with my hand and get in the bed next to him, trying to ignore the warmth leaking from his skin to mine. 

Neither of us move to turn the small lamp off, so we lay there in the soft light, perfectly silent. 

I’m lying down in a nice hotel room with a good looking man. My body is relaxed, and I am calm. 

Rhysand is a very nice person, and even though I’ve known him for only three weeks, I don’t think he’d ever hurt me.

But his soft, even breathing is a constant reminder that he’s next to me, and the weight in the bed is too familiar, too close. Pressing my eyes shut doesn’t help, because it just allows me to think about the past two years and everything that happened in them. 

My heart’s beating so fast and hard I’m surprised he can’t hear it, and a cool, horrible sweat breaks out over my back. 

Tears threaten to spill over, and I’m discretely trying to take deeper breaths and force myself to calm down.

It doesn’t work in the slightest, so I throw the covers off, turn on my side away from him, and pretend he isn’t there. 

Which becomes pretty damn impossible when a warm hand lands on my shoulder. “Feyre?”

“I’m asleep,” I lie. 

His hand gets a little firmer, turning me on my back so he can see my face. Soft, understanding eyes notice everything written so painfully clearly on it, and he says, “You know what? I’m actually not that tired.”

I think I could love him for that sentence alone. 

He rolls over and leans to reach into his bag. Sitting up, he throws a deck of cards on the bed between us and asks, “Fancy a hand of cards?”

Thank the gods above for warm, compassionate hookers. 

“Sure.”

I sit up across from and diligently ignore the sight of all those tattoos as I watch him expertly shuffle and deal the cards. He looks so serious that it comes as a surprise when he murmurs, “I’m going to cheat if you start beating me.”

My lips curve into a smile. “That probably won’t happen. I’m horrible at cards.”

“Good. I’m a sore loser.”

One hand in and I see that he was serious. He completely kicks my ass without a shred of hesitation or mercy, but I don’t even care because I’m finally starting to relax. It’s easy to when he’s in front of me, making jokes and laughing and smiling. 

He deals another hand without asking, somehow reading me well enough to know I need it. “If I win this hand, you have to answer a question.”

Oh, gods.

This is a recipe for disaster, because if I were him, I’d want to know why exactly I’m so fucked up. 

But I can’t exactly turn him down when he’s been so kind and easy-going about everything. “Okay. Same if I win.”

“You won’t, but okay.”

Cocky bastard.

A few minutes later, I realize his confidence was well-deserved because once again, he beats me. “I think you might’ve cheated there, but you can ask your question.”

I’m mentally praying it’s nothing serious, because I don’t know if I could handle opening up to him while looking into his pretty eyes and-

“If you were arrested for a crime, what would it most likely be?”

I find myself laughing as I look to see he’s completely serious. “That’s what you want to know?”

He smiles back at me and just shrugs. 

“Probably tax fraud,” I admit, laughing again when his eyebrows shoot up. “And before you ask, no, that isn’t why I’m well-off. I just have never understood those stupid forms, so I’ll probably mess up and end up in prison one of these days.”

Rhysand chuckles, grabbing the cards to deal another hand. 

“What about you?”

Putting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward like he’s telling me a secret, he whispers, “Road rage. I’m a really angry driver, and I find screaming at people helps.”

He says it without any remorse at all, so it’s pretty believable. 

“Same deal?” I ask, looking at the cards in front of me and knowing without a doubt I’m about to lose again. 

Almost an hour later, we’ve asked each other the most ridiculous, absurd questions we can think of. I now know he’s afraid of sharks, doesn’t believe in black holes, and was voted most likely to succeed in high school. 

He’s also found out about my sisters, my strong dislike of cilantro, and my dream of moving to France and working in the Louvre.

My stomach hurts from laughing so much, and there’s a quiet kind of peace inside me I haven’t felt in years.

We’re laying down, propped on our elbows, when we finish yet another game, and he puts his cards down and looks at me with unusually serious eyes.

I know he’s about to break our unspoken rule to not ask any personal questions, but for some reason, I don’t stop him. 

“Why don’t you paint anymore?”

His tone tells me that if I want him to drop it, he will. 

But... I want to tell him. I want to tell him what I went through, how it changed me. How it both broke me and made me stronger. 

So I do. 

“The last time I painted was over a year ago. I know it sounds cliche, but my art... it comes from a place inside of me that just isn’t there anymore.”

Rhysand nods, even though what I said didn’t make that much sense. “Do you think it’ll ever come back?”

“Yes,” I say, blushing and looking at his shoulder. I have no idea why I tell him, but I can’t seem to keep my fat mouth shut. “I actually wanted to paint earlier tonight.”

“Oh?” He gives me a knowing smile. “So those weren’t your horny eyes, they were your artist eyes?”

“Of course, you pervert.” They were both, to be honest, but I’m not about to tell him that when he’s looking at me like he just won the lottery. 

“Well, you can paint me anytime you want.” He gives me a wink and waggles his eyebrows. “I posed nude a couple times in college.”

He says that so casually it takes me a second to really hear and understand his words. “You went to college?”

Rhysand freezes, and I think about how I asked that question and want to smack myself. I didn’t have to sound so damn surprised, even if it did catch me off guard. “I didn’t mean to sound like that, I just... I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“Feyre, it’s okay. I just didn’t really realize I’d said that.”

“Okay.” 

There’s a moment of silence, and then he says something that completely surprises me. “I actually have a PhD.”

My mouth drops open, and he laughs. “In what?”

“War and Maritime History.”

For a few seconds, I just lay there and stare at him, mouth swaying in the breeze. “You have a PhD in history?”

It’s almost impossible to imagine this insanely handsome man sitting in a dim, dreary classroom, talking about something as dull as history. 

“I do.” His tone goes a little despondent as he murmurs, “I don’t use it, but I have it.”

He presses his lips together and reaches for the cards lying forgotten between us. I know I should listen to the silent cue, but I can’t stand seeing him like this. 

“Why don’t you use it?” I ask, making sure to keep my tone casual and inviting. I want to give him the same opportunity he gave me. 

He shuffles and deals, then looks at his hand and shakes his head, snatching up my cards to re-deal. At least he was honest about the cheating.

I hardly even notice, though, because he says, “I did for a few years. I was a professor at UVelaris.”

Now that, I can imagine. 

Him standing in front of a body of students, driving all the females crazy, lecturing and being the cool, funny professor everyone wants to have. 

“Not anymore?”

Rhysand shakes his head. “Didn’t pay enough.”

Something about his face tells me it’s time to drop it and change the subject. Which I guess makes it my turn to share.

So as I start to lose once again, I tell him, “I can’t go to sleep next to you because one day I woke up and my ex-fiance had locked me in our apartment.”

It’s blurted and quiet and a terrible way to spring that on someone, but he just says, “My hand is absolute garbage. You might actually win this one.”

“About time,” I mutter, weirdly relieved he didn’t start asking questions. Or worse, getting angry. 

It should probably concern me that he somehow knows and can read me well enough to find the perfect response, but I’m too busy marveling at how easy this all feels with him. 

Every minute of therapy is like a punch to the gut, but with Rhys... I feel like talking to someone who won’t judge, who won’t ever tell me what I should’ve done.

Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I actually concentrate on our game, and when I finally defeat him, I stick my tongue out at him and smile. 

He grins back, but something about it makes mine fall away. 

Because it’s his turn, and even though I’m prepared for the worst, I don’t know what it is until I hear it. 

“My cousin has a rare form of leukemia, and the university didn’t pay enough for me to cover her treatments.”

He says it quickly and quietly, just like I did, but it still carries a heavy punch that knocks the air out of my lungs. 

Because he... I don’t have the words to describe him. 

He gave up his dream job and does something he probably hates for his family. It’s the most selfless, heartbreaking thing I’ve ever heard. 

But I want to give him the space to say things at his own pace like he is for me. “Let’s play another hand. I’m feeling lucky.”

Rhysand nods, eyes looking relieved, and starts to deal again. 

My turn.

“My ex was really paranoid and thought I was cheating on him, and he had to go out of town for a work trip. That’s when he... I was locked in there for five days, and he took my phone and laptop, so I didn’t have a way to call for help.”

Rhys is silent for a long moment, jaw clenched tight. But when he speaks, it’s in the same calm, easy tone as always. “There’s not enough luck in the world for you to beat me this time.”

I laugh despite the heaviness of the words I just spoke, and even though it’s his turn, I keep talking. “I went a little crazy. I tore the place apart. I tried to break a window to get out, but we lived on the eighth floor and had Plexiglas windows.”

Our game is long forgotten at this point, and I know I should shut up, but talking to him... I can’t stop. “By the time he got back, I was... different. I was having panic attacks all the time and couldn’t bring myself to eat, and then he just strolls through the door like nothing happened.”

“And he was angry with me. For making such a mess. He hardly noticed I was a shell of who I used to be. Over time, he’d broken me down so completely he was used to it.” Taking a deep breath, I shrug and say, “So I left. I didn’t take the time to pack a bag, I just saw the open door and ran.”

“How long ago was that?” he asks, the first time he’s said something besides his endless taunts about cards.

“A year ago. I was with him for three. It took me a long time to leave him because he wasn’t always emotionally abusive and harsh. There were times when he’d be so sweet and good to me. I wrote it off as mood swings for a long time since I loved him so much.” I take a deep breath and push away the memories threatening to drag me under. “But I got out.”

I say it to him, even though it’s as much a reminder to myself. 

Rhysand smiles, reaching to slowly tuck my hair behind my ear. “And now you’re free.”

“I’m free,” I say, proud of myself for telling someone besides my shrink what happened. 

It’s the first time I’ve ever opened up about our relationship willingly, and even though it was a brief, abbreviated version of the full story, I’m happy with myself.

But it’s a bittersweet moment, because I can’t forget what Rhys told me.

I can’t forget why he’s here, what he’s been through. 

“I wish you were free, too,” I whisper. 

And gods, is it true. Even though I’m happy I found him, even though I’m grateful he’s helping me, I wish he was free to go back to teaching. I wish he didn’t have to carry this burden. 

I wish he wasn’t looking at me with enough sadness in his eyes to make my chest hurt. 

He doesn’t respond, and I don’t want him to feel pressured, so I say simply, “I’m tired.”

Rhys nods, sweeps the cards up, and tosses them back into his bag. Then we’re laying there staring at each other, and I’m noticing the way the light turns his skin a deep bronze and lights up his eyes.

Something feels different between us now that we know the dirty details of each other’s lives. It feels less like a transaction. 

It feels like he cares about me. 

I scoot forward and put my head on his chest, grateful he turns on his back so I don’t feel too trapped. 

His hand is on my hip, the other tucked behind his head, and as I put one leg over his, I think that I’ve never been this comfortable in my life. 

Which surprises me, but I’m not complaining. Especially not as the hand on my back starts moving across my back in small, soothing circles that make my breathing slow. 

Sleep comes for me quickly, but right before I close my eyes, I press a kiss to his chest and murmur, “Goodnight, Rhys.”

His response is the last thing I hear before I go to sleep, warm and safe in his arms. 

~

I don’t really remember where I am when I wake up. My eyes stay shut as I wiggle around a little, finding myself very warm and comfortable and happy.

It’s only when someone’s breath brushes the back of my neck that I remember where I am, and who I’m with. 

Rhysand is behind me, warm body wrapped around me. One arm is under my head, the other is mingled with mine, and his legs are tucked behind mine. His head is in the hollow of my neck, stubble tickling my skin slightly.

It’s been a long time since I’ve woken up in a man’s arms, and I’ve forgotten how good it feels. 

Careful not to move too much, I stretch my legs and arms out, enjoying the weight of his body on mine.

He must feel be stirring anyway, because next thing I know, his mouth is pressing against my neck in a soft, sleepy kiss that makes me smile. 

It’s natural and easy and it feels like we do this every morning. 

I trust him, I realize with a slight start. 

It’s insane to trust someone after such a short time of knowing each other, but I do. Especially after last night. 

He listened to me and made me feel heard without being overbearing or giving me pity. He’s been there for me through panic and sadness and somehow managed to make me smile regardless.

And I want him to know how much it means to me.

So I turn my head and meet his mouth with mine.

Rhysand doesn’t hesitate, sweeping his tongue into my mouth in a rich, hazy kiss that makes me immediately want more. His hand cradles my head, arms loosely wrapped around me. 

I turn around so I can put my hands in his hair, and I’m so lost in him I don’t even realize we’re violating our nothing-sexual rule. 

I don’t want you to touch me unless you want to. 

I attempt to pull away, but his mouth follows me, pressing kisses across my upper lip, the corner of my mouth. “Rhys,” I breathe, putting a hand on his shoulder to give myself room to think. 

He pulls away, violet eyes heavy hooded and happy. “Feyre.”

His voice is scratchy and his hair is ruffled and he looks so goddamn edible I can’t resist anymore. “I want to touch you. Please.”

It’s almost comical how quickly the drowsiness fades from his eyes. 

His full mouth opens and shuts, then repeats the process once again. And then he murmurs, “You never have to say please.”

Taking that as permission enough, I cup his face with my hands, running my thumb across his cheekbone. He leans into my touch, eyes drifting shut. 

I feel like I’m in a dream as I run them lightly down his neck, across his shoulders. 

I trace the lines of his tattoo until they stop, then my fingers explore his abs, the muscle tightening under them. 

And then I slip my hand past the loose waistband of his sleep shorts. 

Both of us react immediately. I completely stop breathing, mind going probably-permanently still at the feel of him in my hand, and Rhys’s eyes snap open so fast I watch as the dilate. 

We’re both staring at each other, the only thing breaking the utter silence in the room his shallow breathing. 

I run a finger over the length of him, then the tip, and he hisses my name. 

“Please,” I repeat, ignoring the fact that he said I didn’t need to ask. 

His jaw clenches as I wrap my hand around him, and he’s almost glaring at me as he says, “You’re going to fucking kill me.”

Fighting a smile, I start to move my hand and shrug. “This is about me, remember?”

He still wears a serious expression, but his lips twitch, so I keep going. 

I’m moving so slowly I think we’ll both be insane by the time this is over, but I can’t bring myself to speed up. His hips are moving slightly, pushing into my hand, and it’s addictive to watch him react to me. 

Rhys makes a low sound, then bites his lip as if to keep it in. 

Which is a mistake, since now I want to do it, too. 

Leaning in, I take that lip for myself, nibbling and sucking on it until he can’t take it anymore and starts kissing me again. 

I scoot a little closer and move my mouth to his neck, and all I can breathe or taste or think about is Rhys. 

A hand in my hair tells me this situation is unacceptable, and then his mouth is on mine again, desperate enough I take pity and move my hand faster. 

His body is tight with pent-up energy, like he’s determined to keep himself still and let me have my fun. 

One hand still between us, I run the other through his hair, pulling on it until he groans. I run my thumb over the end of him, and he mutters my name, voice holding a touch of warning that makes me smile. Even as I do it again. 

He curses, and then he’s falling apart in my hands, and I pull away to watch, just like I know he did with me. 

And it really is a sight to see. 

His muscles bunch tight, jaw even tighter, and his eyes drift close as his head goes back and a moan falls off his lips. His breathing is heavy and there’s a heavy, satisfied look to him that I can’t get enough of. 

Eventually, his eyes open again and find mine. 

Rhysand kisses me softly, then pulls back enough to smirk and say, “You’re welcome.”

A laugh bubbles out of me, and then the room falls back to silent. 

And I realize I’m laying in bed with him, laughing, and practically begging to give him pleasure.

Fuck. 

He gives me a strange look, cuing me into the fact that my panic is probably all over my face, so I smile, then roll out of the bed. “I have to go.”

“Interesting,” he states, tone making it clear he’s a filthy liar. A very amused liar.

I just roll my eyes and grab my bag, hoping that when I come out of the bathroom, he’ll be gone. 

No such luck. 

Ten minutes later, I’m fresh-faced and dressed, and he’s still lounging in bed, arm tucked behind his head. And the sight of all that beautiful, muscled, tattooed-

“You have your horny eyes on again.”

“You’re delusional,” I shoot back, mentally making a note to wear sunglasses around him at all times. 

“Come here.”

I shake my head, knowing where that’ll lead even without the look on his face.

Because after last night, things feel different. 

They feel casual.

Which is the exact opposite of what I wanted. I did this so I could find someone unattached and easy and... not him. He understands me better than I do, for gods’ sake. 

And he’s caring and gentle and so understanding, and my brain is just having a hard time keeping up. 

He opens his mouth to argue, but I throw a pillow at him from my safe spot halfway across the room. “I have to go to the museum.”

Technically, this is a lie. We’re on schedule for the next event. But I could go and get ahead. Which sounds like a great idea. 

“That’s not even remotely believable, but alright.” He rolls smoothly to his feet, remind me once again how comfortable he is in his skin. 

I look at the ceiling, and he makes an amused sound. “No self control. It’s sad, really.”

I hate him. 

Even though I’m grinning because it’s true. 

He throws on a dark shirt from his bag and steps into some jeans, all while I adamantly study my very interesting, unpainted nails. 

And then we’re walking down the hallway to the elevator and standing across from each other. If I had a knife-

No. If I had a spoon, I could cut the tension in there with ease. 

He smiles like he knows what I’m thinking, and I almost weep with relief as the doors open to the empty morning lobby. 

Rhysand moves to get out, but I’m going down another floor to the garage, so I stay put, firm in my resolve to appear unaffected. 

That plan goes out the window pretty quickly, considering he narrows his eyes at me, marches across the small elevator floor, pulls me into his arms, and kisses me. 

I kiss him back without hesitation, both of us only pulling away when the door bings unhappily. 

What the hell was that?

Did he just... kiss me goodbye? 

What the hell was that?

I don’t have time to ask, because he steps into the lobby, looks me up and down thoroughly, and says, “See you next week, Feyre.”

Oh, gods. 

I have to see him again. 

Because even though I know I shouldn’t, there’s absolutely no way I’ll cancel. 

I’m a stupid, stupid woman. 

But I replay last night and this morning in my head, and as the elevator starts dropping to the garage, I realize I don’t even care. 

_______________________________________________________

Part 4

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