#THEY SOUNDS SO CLEAN AND PURE LIKE THEIR SIGNATURE COLOR

[hammysando]

“Thank-You's and Goodbyes” Floyd Leech x Bullied!GN!Reader

AN: This is pure angst. Hurt and no comfort. Can you guys tell I really like to write angst? I SWEAR there is fluff coming soon- It's very similar to the Jing Yuan fanfic toward the end, but I like this one too XD. Anyway, don't forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed! And drop a comment if you so feel like it! <3 Reader is Gender Neutral!

Wordcount: 1.3K+ words~

Prompt: Nothing hurts more than almost. And being too late.

TW: Mentions of suicide, Major character death (Reader), Topics of bullying and grief.

Please read at your own risk!

More below the cut~

Floyd noticed them on a random Thursday, when he decided to be early to Crewel’s Potionology class. He had been ready to skip completely, but decided that if he wanted to pass the next lab, he'd better attend. He slunk toward the entrance, lanky frame bobbing slightly with his laid-back, slow steps. Though, his feet came to a stop as he heard sniffling from inside the classroom.

”Ehhh? Is someone already here?” He mused this to himself as he peeked into the room curiously.

Someone stood at the furthest desk from the doorway, head bowed as hot tears slid down their cheeks. They seemed to stare down at the desk for a while longer before wiping their eyes and taking out a cloth and tiny bottle of liquid from their uniform jacket. Quickly, they poured the cleaning solution on their desk before scrubbing away at something. This piqued Floyd’s interest as he stepped in and made his way over, his signature smile in his face. Bending down, he hummed in the student’s ear and spoke, voice playful and probing.

“Say, I haven't seen you before.” His grin deepened, dual colored eyes squinting slightly with mischievous amusement. “I'll call you flamefishie.”

Floyd Leech’s second encounter with this stranger happened when he came early once again. Except this time, he peeked over their shoulder as they started to erase black and red words off their desk. The ink ran and disappeared quickly, but Floyd could feel himself tense as the words flashed in his mind.

“Worthless freak.”

“Gonna cry?”

“I bet your parents are embarrassed of you because you're practically magicless.”

“Say, Flamefishie… Who-” The student broke away, leaving wordlessly and in a hurry. The teal-haired man didn't get a chance to say anything more. Floyd waited for them to return, but the one he had dubbed as “Flamefishie”, didn't show for the rest of Crewel’s class.

Their third meeting, occured when Floyd arrived at the empty classroom, early yet again for the third time. He was in a terrible mood, being stuck with Azul’s yammering about customers and the Monstro Lounge. Did he never learn to loosen up? What irritated Floyd even more, were the three students crowding around a certain desk. They snickered loudly as they marked up the poor student’s desk. Ah, what a perfect opportunity to vent a little of his anger.

In a few lanky steps, he was upon the three students. One, was from Savanaclaw, while the other two were from Flamefishie’s dorm. Oh, that somehow made Floyd feel more murderous. His looming presence alone was enough to silence the snickering as the three students turned slowly. Heterochromic eyes glared down at them intensely as he spoke, cheery voice a contrast to the expression on his face, and the terrifying look in his eyes.

“Say… So you're the three that make Flamefishie cry…?” He smiled cruelly and a little unhingedly as he descended. “I'll give you a count to three before I squeeze you all.”

It was safe to say that the three scrambled away without as much as a glance back. Floyd fixed his uniform tie before the sound of books thudding against the floor caught his attention. His head snapped up and he turned, to see the familiar student he had come into contact with a few times before. Their (eye color) eyes were wide, already filling with tears. Were they always crying? Before Floyd could say anything, another thud filled the silence as the crying student dropped their bag and rushed over, throwing their arms around Floyd. The eel man froze but threw his head back and laughed. This was a surprise. One that put him in a good mood. It sounded as if they whispered something to him under their breath. Something he couldn't make out, but decided not to bring up as he took their hand and dragged them out of class.

“We're skipping class, Flamefishie~!” And it seemed like they were okay with that.

There had been buzz around the NRC, about the death of a student. Suicide, the whispering said. They weren't known very well amongst the student body, but that didn't stop the solemn feeling of mourning to choke the air. Floyd had a bad feeling in his gut, suddenly. Wait a second… Months had passed since he saw Flamefishie. It irritated him at first. Were they avoiding him? Why? But soon their absence became a normal occurrence that he had gotten used to. But now, oh, what could he say to that horrible dread he felt sitting in his stomach as he raced to his potionology class?

Floyd stared down at that specific desk; the one that peculiar student occupied for every one of Crewel’s boring lectures. Disbelief ran through him before rage replaced it. But that rage quickly died as he stared blankly. There, sitting atop their desk, was a vase of orchids, soft and white. He knew what this was.

Under the vase, was a letter addressed to him. It was simple, the only embellishment on it being a scribble of an eel on the corner of the envelope. Floyd tore the letter open with slightly shaking hands, unprepared for what he would read.

Many students say you're scary. But… You were so kind to me. Especially that day. I'm so grateful to have encountered someone like you.

So thank you. And goodbye.

It wasn't even signed. Floyd felt his frustration, anger, and sorrow all boil over as he turned and kicked over one of the chairs violently. Was he stupid? He had never even asked them their name. Storming out of the class, he couldn't bring himself to look back, the letter clutched in his hands tightly.

The next few days were like a blur. And before he knew it, he was attending an assembly for that student’s death. It was a blur as well, and he wandered his way around before a hand on his shoulder caught his attention. Floyd flared up, ready to beat someone to a bloody pulp, but stopped when he recognized a familiar shade of (eye color) eyes, looking at him. For a second, he could feel himself grow hopeful before realization crushed him. No, this wasn't his Flamefishie.

“Floyd Leech?” A man’s voice sounded, calm yet laced with hurt and sorrow.

“What's it to you?” He spat this, feeling a bad mood coming on.

The man simply smiled slightly. “I'm… (Full Name)’s older brother.. I just wanted to thank you, for being the reason they smiled so much. (Name) never did much, as far back as I could remember… I don't know what you were to each other, but they seemed alive when they spoke about you.” He seemed to stop, smile faltering before it perked up once more.

“So thank you, for giving them good memories.” Floyd turned in that instant and left, scowl deepening until he found himself far away from everyone. The NRC campus was empty, every student having gone to that assembly. Without the suffocating air of sorrow and sadness, Floyd started to question himself. Question why he cared at all in the first place. They had barely known each other. They'd only encountered each other a handful of times. So why did the sadness eat away at him from the inside? Why did the sorrow burn his eyes so?

Floyd felt a tear hit his hand, followed by another, and another. He couldn't stop the rain clouds that had started to gather round his mismatched eyes. And a realization hit him. About why he cared. Why it hurt like this.

He loved (Name).

[gravity-falls-fanatic89]

I genuinely feel there is something to color scheme between the older Pines' men in terms of wardrobe at the very least.

Very much through the episodes where backstory is provided for Ford, yellow, blue, or gold hues of shirts are worn. Gold, or yellow are typically variations that are associated with royalty, and I feel it shows he was "the golden child"...Which also correlated later when Bill made him the only statue that was gold. He was considered special at certain points.

The blue, from what I gathered, symbolized peace, and innocence, which he did wear in college, and while working with Bill in the mind scape. And, you see, after the betrayal, he stops wearing blue. His innocence was lost, and his peace was taken.

Stan, on the other hand, had a touch of gold to his wardrobe, but I always associate him with maroon, which is associated with being steadfast. And quite frequently in the show, that maroon does show up for both men(Ford's signature sweater and Stan's fez). They both at the end of the show wear maroon as sea grunks, showing they both are steadfast, and parallel.

He also does wear the blue Hawaiian shirt, and tries to pose like he's a frail old man when he wanted on Cash Shower(innocence once again), then the gold and maroon suit in The Stanchurian Candidate (I see as power and determined).

I could be reading into this far too much, but either man's wardrobes fascinate me in the different eras of their lives. I'm sure I could keep digging, but I probably as sound loony 😂

EDIT: I also thought about Stan wearing white at points, where it's a color of purity and clean. When he's younger, he wears a white shirt through high school. Then, as he becomes a drop out, at various points, and up to the portal fight with Ford, it's dirty and worn, so tainted and weathered.

He returns to the white with his suit, and then, is typically portrayed as a sea grunk in cream, to me, personally translates to a "grey" area: he isn't pure like he was as a high school kid, but he's not a criminal anymore; the color is mixed now, a blend of old and new.

And Ford's return from the portal clothes, total black, is absolutely a reflection of his travels and where his mind probably sat for 30 years: In the dismal and hopeless hellscape, both literally and mentally.

[wh0rezs]

“TELL ME WHY YOUR HANDS ARE COLD”-MILES QUARITCH

PAIRING: RECOM! MILES QUARITCH X HUMAN! READER

WARNINGS: non really, Miles being a softie, in sm love that is sickening Miles (i am so lonely), AFAB reader, Lyle being slapped at the end

Colonel Miles Quaritch held a very neat appearance, human or recom. No hair out of place in his braid, shoes shined until you could see your own reflection in them, and his clothes always crisp and clean.

He even kept his workspace clean, not a single thing out of place. Though he was drawn to you, someone who contradict everything he held close to his heart.

[name] was also know around the Bridgehead but for the opposite reason of Miles. Your hair was also sticking out of your bun, clothes being wrinkled and papers scattered across your desk. Though you did take pride in your neat makeup especially your lipstick.

No one, even Eywa herself, knows why Miles choose you as his lover but he did. You two seemed to be plain opposites but also being puzzle pieces that fitted together perfectly.

At first he seem to hate you, and your clutter. He made it his job to clean up your desk (without your knowledge) only to come back later for it to be even messier (if that was possible). As paid back, you would scatter papers around his office to piss him off (you always found them neatly stacked in your desk).

But soon Miles opened his heart to you and you did too. Soon the two of you spent every possible moment with each other, and every night (like the true gentleman Miles’s grandma raised him to be) he would walk you to your dorm and depart.

Tonight would have been no different but you told him you had a gift for him. Instead of Miles walking you home, you walked him to the recoms’ personal gym with Miles’s tail swishing side to side with pure delight.

After biding the Colonel “a good night”, you waited to hear the surprise gasps of the soldiers. You even faintly heard a voice, Lyle’s, say a cheeky remark like “Damn Colonel, were you surprised attacked ?” and following that was resounding slapping sound.

It quickly spread around the Bridgehead that Colonel Miles Quaritch had returned to his dorm with a few dozen of your signature red colored lipstick lips imbedded into his blue skin. You had also returned to your dorm with smudged lipstick, completely your messy appearance.

At breakfast, you heard Lyle, sporting a red hand shaped bruise on the back of his head, explain how he lived to tell the tale.

A/N: did i write this is in one sitting… yes i did. thank you for all the love i am getting for my other fanfics. i promise i have more than j this series i am working on. my stories r never proofread so if u find mistakes pls tell me

[randomhuman-bean]

THE HOLLOW KNIGHT'S HALLUCINATIONS - A short story I wrote bc I was bored :P

Wasn't able to go to sleep the other day so I wrote this to pass the time. I really liked it so I spent more time cleaning it up. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Pale King stands on a balcony, staring out into the vast distance. The view is beautiful, it's almost hard to believe it's real. The white sky compliments a beautiful garden that consists of dark green grasses and beautiful flowers, the many distinct colors can keep someone's eyes wandering for hours. Silver bushes covered in thorns adorn fences that clearly need to be touched up. The sound of construction hums in the background, he smiles to himself when he feels something- no- someone, slightly readjusting themself at his side. He looks down, despite knowing that it was just the Pure Vessel by his side. He has always wanted a child- a child of his own, between him and White Lady, and this was it… Only, this one had a purpose, and despite how much he wanted to care for them as if they were his own, he couldn’t.  

Minutes pass, The Pale King has sat down, losing himself to thoughts in head, he gently taps his foot against the ground as he thinks. The Pure Vessel sees him sitting down, and sits down as well, staring off into the distance at nothing. They just followed their father’s orders. A gentle tap on his shoulder pulls the King out of his thoughts. He looks behind himself, seeing what tapped him. A small bug, two wings lifting it off the ground, a hammer in one hand, and a journal in the other. 

“Your Greatness, the buzzsaws have arrived. They expect you to sign this.” 

He hands the journal over. The Wyrm silently puts his signature down, and hands it back to the bug. 

“Thank you, Great Wyrm. Construction on the path should begin soon, I will update you as I get information.” Without saying bye, the bug flies away. Once the Wyrm had been left alone, he realized that he had spent a longer time on the balcony than intended. He stands up and turns toward the Vessel, absentmindedly offering them his hand to get up, as he would do to Hornet.  

The Pure Vessel feels a bit of warmth spread through their body. Was this happiness? Compassion? It didn’t matter, because the feeling disappears almost instantaneously. Even if it didn’t go, they didn’t have a mind to reflect on it anyway. They reach out for their father’s hand, except that isn’t what The Hollow Knight finds. They grasp at nothing.  

The scene fades… 

Peace and tranquility are replaced with pain and desperation, a sharp nail digging into their back, a nail that wasn’t their own. What had happened? Looking around from the ground, they see that they are no longer chained up. Unfortunately, there isn’t much more time to linger on what happened, the nail from before finds itself back in The Hollow Knight’s body. Against their will, their one arm lifts them up off the ground until they are standing up straight. They throw their head back, a loud, unyielding screech emanates from their body. They begin carrying themself towards the Ghost that attacked them. They try to resist it, but it’s hard to after so long of being worn down psychologically, mentally, and physically. 

It’s a battle of mind, the mind The Hollow Knight wasn’t supposed to have. They are hardly able to focus on the fight against Ghost as they struggle against the Radiance. Tears of amber streak down their face and onto the floor, creating quiet thunks that can’t be heard over the overwhelmingly loud fight. Nails clash, infection bubbles pop and spread, spells are cast, and the Radiance can be heard through the vessel’s body. Ghost relents, taking a break to heal. The Hollow Knight brings their nail up, slowly walking towards the Ghost, preparing to strike. 

For a moment, their will overpowers Hers, and they bring their nail down on themself instead. It makes disgusting squelching and popping sounds as it goes through the heart of the infection on their body. They pull the nail out, and stab again. And again. And. Again. It’s all in rapid succession, the desperation can be felt in the very air around them. Every stab feels just as painful as the last, a sharp, stinging pain that refuses to go away, lingering, spreading all throughout their body. Eventually, they slump down as their eyes close, exhausted from the effort. 

When they open their eyes, they see something strange, their father's hand outstretched for them to grab. Had he come back for them? To save them, and bring them back home? They slowly take their hand off the blade and reach out for The Pale King’s hand. When they attempt to grasp his hand though, nothing happens, it just phases through. Tears well up in their eyes as they wave their hand through their father’s incorporeal form. “Please” They think, though, the more they swat, the farther he gets from them, and it may just be their head, but it looks like he gives them a disapproving look. As he gets further away, the full picture begins to unfold…   

The Pure Vessel looks up at their father, reaching their tiny nub of a hand up to him, and placing it in the King’s. The Hollow Knight couldn’t believe it -nor did they want to. Who was that?? Was that them? It couldn’t be! 

The two begin to walk off, agonizingly slow, forcing the tortured knight to watch each. Individual. Step. They reach out again, trying to get their father’s attention, wanting to scream, but only being met with the Radiance’s screeches. They begin to go silent once they see the two phase through the door. They weren’t even real. Any will to fight that they had, got destroyed in that instant. They just slump down further, grabbing the nail implanted in their torso, and pulling it out, their orange eyes growing brighter…

[siremasterlawrence]

HUMADROID: Five For Five

Mac Maxwell is a young black male living in New York City fell a sleep in his recliner feet up in the air. Toes pointed towards the flash of the television screen the picture roles on and again.

The screen suddenly lights up in a flash of good and silver blows up covering up the room. The light lifts him up into the air as if by any sort of magic shoves him backwards he is colliding with the television.

On impact it swallows him whole entirely it is transferring him in to a new world speeding down in to a magical realm. “Welcome dear friend to my wonderful world of mysticism and pure power.” A voice echoes through the halls.

“This is the world you live in a shit place hell hole of drama, evil and fucking asswipes but here. You can bring your imagination to life what one loses here others can find In spades. What do you think?” The man goes on breathlessly till he is finished.

“What is this place?”

“Heaven on earth or paradise “

“So basically it’s everything “

“Correct!”

“Why am I here?”

“To balance the equation.”

“Take what is yours”

“Make your heaven on earth”

“This will be a journey “

“Don’t bother to figure me out”

“I am and can be your best friend or worst nightmare.”

“Which one will it be?”

“Not my enemy for sure”

“Excellent!”

“Did you just snap that book into existence?”

“One of a million things I can do do”

“Why don’t you browse?”

“The HUMADROID catalogue? Are you in the business of building robots?”

Part 1

The smirks on his face grows widely out of his control pointing into the void as a whirlpool appears. Showcasing multiple video clips of a different guys and couples who have been transforming them into real dolls.

The room spins as he takes a bow flipping the tip of his hate bidding me a due he is backing up fading into the mist of the night and he watches him disappear into the darkness.

Mac stranded in this new world glees with great anticipation exciting within him flow of air current rushes with the descending of a few pods landing on the space pod placed within a grove of patched land inside laid seeds.

The young man greedily goes into series of processes in his new make shift laboratory to make a grand plan in which the scheme will be the likes of which no one else has ever scene and I will unleash in to the world by my orders.

The plants produce a certain color palate in theory that could create a unique hypnotic signature so I intentionally take a year off the grid to study its affects eventually with effort my color b is released to a rousing success.

One day Jamie is passing window shows as he pushes his shopping cart into hollow hall of the mall when one the glass window wow him emitting a multitude of lovely colors like a heat seeking missile the ray zips his eyes contact.

The man immediate struck off his center of gravity frozen in place in front of the window as the colorful display of the giant television screen switches different patterns his eyes match them like clones a ideal match like diamonds.

Soon enough his eyes are now devoid of any life his being completely wiped clean all that is eyes with static grey and colors much like on television and his mind is in endless loop of nothingness ebbing and flowing a new reality.

He was on his way to meet a friend but that is obviously not happening especially when his cell phone screen bings with a sharp resounding sound alerting him to the text but the message goes unanswered his friend.

Across from the mall a few blocks later his friend Ashley pissing off as per usual is off his pit drunk about to take another sip of his beer when his cellphone rings thinking it is Jamie he is about to scream at him but is cut off.

He places the cell phone to his ear hitting him in ear shattering noise sending a chill down his spine he locks in place beer in his hand the glass falls smashing in to the floor breaking in to pieces his mine completely left in shambles.

He is going completely blank in a states of deep shock and surprises his mind goes in to hyperdrive warping super fast holding him back he drops in to a pit of despair free falling endlessly into a bottomless black hole.

While he will join Jaime in just a pit behind his wall man takes a key the wall opens up

a key hole and the key fits perfectly turning the knob as the door swings to the side and he enters walking in he spits Ashley placing his hands on his shoulder.

Rubbing it he helps him up to his feet as he and his new subject walk off mindless into the void and Ashley is locked in the second pod next to his pal but being reprogrammed for service and I could not be happier with the outcome.

Fortunately or unfortunately depending on how you might see it a night in the pod will do him just right in deepening my full on permanent control over his being inside

and out with no to rescue him but me he

is in for a treat.

As his body lay in status over the night I let the headphones place on his face by robot hands firmly and strategic held as the visor programs begin to project into his mind a laser forces his way to his mind in a heavy stream.

Ear buds slips into his ears like a radio the songs are blasting into his ears are playing so hard pumping reprogramming music on and on his voice quiets inside nothing else will ever matter.

The pods go dumb turning completely black encased in a seal of clear glass both of the are sinking into the ground below they will be indoctrinated into a life of us the robot mindless obedience.

Part 2

Part 2

Nick Pickard is enjoying an early morning in the heat of the night barbecue burning so bright he is unaware of the sparks flying high above the area catching hold of the place.

The room lights up catching fire he trapping him instinctively he hits the wall hard as he crushes a bit the fire blocks him in a sea of chaos the fire reaches the brim of the roof exploding.

The kids of Nick Pickard arriving far to late watching the remains of what was there ex father they lose it bursting in to tears they both collapse from heat exhaustion and faint.

Ian, Glen and Nick feet are grabbed yanking them in to the grass they are dragging in to the grass and thrown in to a nearby pit of epic proportions in an endless sea of white steam.

The next three pods open welcoming them in a deep heavy thud they soon wake up as the top of the roof closes on them locking no rather sealing them in place for what is to come.

“Where am I? Hello?”

“Dad? Why are we here?”

“Dad? “

“Is he in a state of trance?”

“Hypnotized”

“Master? Come and get me”

“Master? Dad are you ok?”

“Obey him”

“You most obey Master”

“Mmmmmmm”

“That hum”

“I can’t stop”

“I’m humming too”

“Mmmmm”

“I can’t think”

“My mind is blocked”

“Am I hard?”

“Rock hard “

“Oh God.”

The end

[riwooga]

What do you mean by "mostly rendering" on your new drawing of your PC? I'm a little confused aaa- It looks good just a drastic change over a couple months ^^;

Happy to see you back though! :3

"I just realized it sounded rude I'm so sorry!!! No offense meant omg, I'm just curious >O<; "

/

Ah you didn't sound rude at all no worries my friend!! 💕 It is a drastic change ahah, but frankly it's just me actually spending more time on art. After my IvoryxRiley piece I kinda realized I liked the results of going over the piece a couple of times and spending more hours on pieces.

So i've been experimenting a bit more, and another piece that isn't even finished, nor DOL related, sort of sealed for me that this was the direction I wanted to take in art albeit it taking more time and energy!

But im gonna attach the speed paint here for a visual of how it works, for this one I made a copy of the original art file so there’s also the sketch of how I made that one original lay back in January.. but otherwise step by step of how my art works now is like

Sketch, sometimes rough color or straight to either second sketch or lineart, more proper color, and then thats where I would usually slap a signature on and call it done, but nowadays I go over it, and basically "paint" over areas, refining it until I like it better. This can be all from just cleaning it up, to redrawing certain areas. But it always takes way over the time the original art took. The example of this Riley drawing, the original was at 2 hours and 16 minutes, meanwhile the rendering then took around 6 hours and 14 minutes. (Pure drawing time, not including me staring endlessly at the canvas LMAO)

I hope that makes sense? Otherwise always feel free to ask again or dm me! 💕💕💕

[paixarina]

1NM8 STANS HOW DO YOU FEEL RIGHT NOW

[glilboy]

Ateez reactions to finding you reading smut about them: Hyung line

ive had this idea for awhile and even requested it a few times from other writers but..i felt it was time to write it lol

tws under the cut

warning, this piece of fiction contains mentions of somnophilia, slight dom and sub dynamics, and general explicit topics.

Hongjoong:

You had attempted to stay up waiting for Hongjoong, deciding to reread one of your favorite stories in the mean time. Unfortunately that wasnt enough to keep you awake, you ultimately passing out and your phone tumbling onto the floor.

Hongjoong had a feeling you'd passed out since you didnt message him any "i miss you :(" texts after 11pm so seeing you knocked out on the couch was no surprise. He slowly padded over to you smiling softly, then noticing your phone on the floor and went to pick it up for you. He was never the kind to go through your phone but your smart self had no shut down timer which left the fan fiction on display for him.

He couldnt help but be curious seeing paragraphs of text and decided a little reading would do no harm. As he began to read though he felt his gut sweep, in a good way. He was honestly a little upset until he saw his name but when he read his name it was like all of exhaustion disappeared. Luckily he didn't have work the next day he thought to himself.

Sitting down on the couch with a plan he slowly nudged you awake. "Hi dear," he spoked softly with a smirk.

You rubbed at your bleary eyes and looked up at him, "Oh hi Joongie. Sorry I didn't mean to fall asleep." He smiled even bigger at you.

"Thats fine, it helped me find out something fun," he tucked your hair behind your ear. Still waking up you made a small "huh?" before seeing the phone in his hand.

"Oh..." you mumbled, starting to be awake enough to get it. You finally looked at him straight on and saw his signature devilish grin.

He moved his hand to slowly move up your thigh, giving it a small squeeze which elicted a sigh out of you. "Didn't think you'd read stuff like that Y/N, but I guess you're just full of surprises huh doll," the pet name made you shiver, Hongjoong never having used that one before.

"I'm sorry Joongie," you mumbled into your arm, face now red. His hand moving up to cup your core and grind his hand into it making you whimper softly.

"Oh dont be sorry dolly, just shows me that you really miss me."

Seonghwa:

Saying Seonghwa was caring was an understatement in a way. Despite his busy schedule he made it a point to showed he cared in different ways. One thing he always did was if you left your phone out at all he would put it on the charger for you. Small things!

Today though he had come home earlier than usual while you were taking a quick shower. Seeing your phone on the counter he waltzed over setting his stuff down to throw it on the charger even if it wasn't that low. He noticed you left it on, open to a book he assumed enough.Him being the lovely man he is he wanted to read a bit to see what you liked and possibly buy you a physical copy. Written porn with his name in it though was not what he was expecting.

Seonghwa gulped, setting down your phone with his hands shaking and his face now flushed pink. He took a deep breath and set down his bag, running his fingers through his hair now being surprisingly worked up. A part of him felt embarrassed for being turned on by the writing but at the same time he knew you didn't read it for no reason.

"Hwa! You're home early hello!" You ran up to him giggling, now clean and dressed in some sweats.

"Hey babe, yeah we got let out early cause we learned the new choreography fast enough. They asked us if we wanted to do more vocal practice but none of us did," He laughed, trying to shift his legs to hide his slight erection.

"None of you stay late ever," you giggled sarcastically up at him. "Well, I was gonna take a nap. Do you want to? I'm sure you're tired."

He nodded softly and took your hand walking to your guys bedroom talking about your day. He changed himself into more comfortable clothing then joined you in bed, you curling into him quickly. Once you settled Seonghwa felt he could actually breathe, feeling like a middle schooler just for getting more worked up from having you close. He heard your breath settle which is when he shifted away a bit from you.

"Fuck..." He mumbled, having the space now laying on his back to palm himself over his erection. Looking over at your sleeping face made it worse, the piece you had opened having involved somnophilia. One thing he never had the guts to suggest to you despite having such an open relationship.

He didn't notice your eyes flutter open at the movement. You only just fell asleep so you were in no means in too deep. You decided to play it though, closing your eyes and throwing a leg over his waist as if you were just adjusting in your sleep.

He inhaled a sharp breath and bit his lip now mildly frustrated at the whole situation. Mumbling a fake sleepy "Hwa" you moved to straddle the man hearing a childish sigh escape his lips.

"If you keep moving, I swear to god," He mumbled out loud thinking youre still asleep since you had always been a chaotic sleeper.

"And what will you do about it horny kid," you giggled against his neck. You could feel his body tense.

"Go back to sleep and I'll fuck you like your sick little fantasy, how about that hm?"

yunho:

Rain was beating against the window as you cuddled up on the couch with your phone in hand. Yunho was on the other side of his personal office playing video games. It was a chill day but something in the air was setting you slightly off the edge.

Besides the sweet glances and cheesy smiles thrown at each other, your screen was very much the opposite of innocent pure love. Getting indulged in the story you started to zone in, missing some of his looks making Yunho curious as to what your interest was delved into currently.

"Be right back guys," he said into the mic mischievously. Quickly making his way over he slipped the phone out of your hand, this behavior wouldve typically been fine but because of the contents on your screen you gasped and reached out for your phone. "You doing something naughty or do you just like acting suspicious?" he grinned before looking at your phone.

His face feel reading the paragraph of a particularly nsfw scene. You were now sitting up staring at him wide eyed, "yuyu please oh god its not what you think, i think." Silence filled the room, the only noises being the sound of his running pc and the dull chatter of the other boys.

"Do you read this often?" he said out of hesitation and pure curiosity, almost feeling that he violated your private space. He kind of got the gist of it all right away, thankfully for your sake.

"Not all the time but i mean, you are busy yunho," you tried to softly explain knowing this was odd territory.

"Do you...ever want to try it," he says, getting to the end of the page and looking at you.

"I can't say that..none of them aren't, nice," the air was filled with an awkward energy that could suffocate another person if they came in at such a weird time.

The two of you stood there for a second, until he moved towards you and took your hand. He placed it on his bulge and you sucked a breathe in.

"Take off my pants," he ordered, a strange harsh tone to his voice. For you guys there was never set roles, not any dom or sub dynamic but it wasnt vanilla per say so him speaking like this was new. Besides that, you did as he said and pushed your thumbs under the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down his legs.

Silently he took your hand then sat down on his gaming chair, pulling out his large cock. He slipped on his headphones before looking up at you with a shit eating grin.

"Sit down, i can tell youve been dying too babe."

yeosang:

You were waiting for yeosang to come home after a shorter than usual practice, deciding to pass the time by indulging in your secret world. In the midst of browsing your favorite blogs you didn't hear the door open, this event made you learn not to have headphones in when participating in such activities.

Walking in, Yeosang looked around for you and spotted your figure on the couch. He slowly moved near with a secret motive of scaring you when he glanced at your phone seeing a photo of him paired with a lot of writing. Tilting his head curiously he squinted to read the text, reading along with you until his face flushed.

Sucking in a breath slightly he moved back to the door, playing off him just entering. You noticed his figure walking towards you and sneakily turned off your phone and got up to greet him.

"Hey babe, it's nice to see you in the sunlight," you giggled and wrapped your hands around his waist. You noticed him hesitantly wrapping his arms around you, causing you to pull away.

"Hey, whats up? you seem a bit off?" you pouted and brushed the hair out of his eyes, not catching the little blush.

"Yeah yeah babe, I'm fine. promise," he cleared his throat and pulled away, making your heart sink a bit. He practically completely ignored what you actually said.

"No Yeo, I- did I do something wrong? Or just a long day?" you pried knowing something was up.

Shifting awkwardly on his feet he looked up at you, his hair back in his face. "I um, saw what you were reading."

The color drained from your face, mouth slightly hanging not knowing what to say. You thought he was pissed, was going to leave and break up with you but right when you were about to talk he spoke again.

"C-can we do that?"

A moment of silence passed and you looked up at him, your boyfriend who was typically very soft and gentle in bed. Knowing what you were reading was likely pretty heavy in his book, you became worried. "Yeo, I just read it. It means nothing I don't want to make you uncomforta-"

His lips cut yours off and one hand entangled in your hair, his other guiding you to the wall by your hip. Back flush against the way you pulled away after a moment to see his eyes wide and sweat already beading down his temple.

"I've wanted to do that, just didn't want to scare you dear."

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS LIMITED V EDITION Yoyaku Tokuten Drama CD “Vampire ★ Juice ~The Delivered New Year’s Gift~”

Original title: ヴァンパイア★ジュース ～届けられたお歳暮～

Source: DIABOLIK LOVERS LIMITED V EDITION Yoyaku Tokuten Drama CD “Vampire ★ Juice ~The Delivered New Year’s Gift~”[CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Toriumi Kousuke, Katsuyuki Konishi, Midorikawa Hikaru, Kaji Yuki, Hirakawa Daisuke & Takashi Kondou

Translator’s note: I remember this being one of the first DL drama CDs I listened to alongside the karaoke one. It is half an hour of pure chaos but I absolutely love it! xD I really believe that these early era tokuten drama CDs which have the six S brothers doing a bunch of dumb shit is when DL peaked as a franchise. I actually had to pause the track a couple of times throughout because I was laughing too hard, I couldn’t focus on translating. 

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

*Sluuurp*

Reiji: Mmh. It tastes lovely. Could you go fetch the plates, please?

*Cling cling*

Reiji: Wrong. Why would you choose said color for this particular dish? Good grief...You truly are ignorant time after time.

*Ding・dong*

Reiji: Hm? Who could be visiting us at this hour? My bad, but could you get the door? I shall follow suit once I’ve turned off the stove.

You nod and head towards the door.

*Creaaak*

*Flap flap flap*

Reiji: Why are you standing there frozen in place? ...My apologies for the delay. Oh dear? A Familiar from the Demon World. Eh? A package from Christa-sama? 

*Cling cling*

Reiji: What is this?

The Familiar explains.

Reiji: A New Year’s gift (1)? For Subaru? Ahー You need my signature, right?

*Scribble scribble*

Reiji: Will this do? ...Yes, I confirm I have received the package.

*Flap flap flap*

Reiji: Now this is something you do not see every day. For Christa-sama to sent Subaru a present...That being said, it is suspiciously heavy. I wonder what could be inside?

Kanato: Reiji...Is something the matter? It’s noisy at this time of day.

Reiji: Oh? You were awake, Kanato? No, a New Year’s gift for Subaru was delivered at our doorstep just now. 

Kanato: That package over there...?

Reiji: Exactly.

Ayato: New Year’s gift? The fuck? ...Let’s open it up right away! Hehehe~

Ayato starts cutting open the package. 

Reiji: Ayato...!? When did you!? 

*Rustle rustle*

Reiji: Ah...! Hey there! You must not open that without permission! It is meant for Subaru, remember? 

Ayato: Aah? Subaru’s sound asleep in his coffin, right? Also he’s still our lil’ bro in the end. In other words...

Kanato: What belongs to Subaru, also belongs to us.

Ayato: Exactly! And, everything which belongs to the family, also belongs to Yours Truly!

Reiji: I feel like that’s not quite right...

Ayato: Shut up! Besides, if Subaru loses his shit, you can just apologize for us, right? Oi, Kanato! Let’s open up this bad boy!

Kanato: Agreed.

*RIIIIIP*

Reiji: Wha...!? Why must clean up after you guys’ mischief...!? This isn’t a joke...!

Reiji gets in between the two.

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: Wha...!? Let go, Reiji! We’re trying to...see what’s inside...! Ugh...!

Reiji: ...You can’t! Please wait until...Subaru has woken up...!

Ayato: Oh stop complainin’ ‘bout every single lil’ thing! A lil’ peek won’t hurt, right!?

*Rustle rustle*

Reiji: Hands off!

You try and stop them.

Ayato: Haah? Shut up, Chichinashi! Nobody cares about your opinion!

Kanato: Exactly! Besides, this isn’t a fight...!

Reiji: Ugh...You, don’t be hesitating! If you’ve got your hands free, then help me out a little!

Ayato: You’re damn persistent, Reiji!

Reiji: Ugh...

Kanato: ...LET GO!!

*RIIIIIIP*

Ayato: Woah...!? 

*WOOSH*

*Thud*

Laito: Guh...!? That hurt...!!

Reiji: L...Laito!?

Kanato: ...Talk about great timing.

Laito: I came to check what the ruckus was about, but what was that just now!? It smacked me right in the face...and hurt a ton!

Ayato: Pfft...Ahahaha! Look at all that blood! A Vampire’s got a nosebleed! Ahaha!

Laito: Hey, Ayato-kun! This isn’t the time to laugh! What’s with this bottle? Why would you throw this at me!? Depending on the answer, I won’t let this slide!

Reiji: We did not throw it. Those two over there tried to unrightfully open Subaru’s New Year’s gift, so its content went flying out, hitting you by pure coincidence.

Kanato: Reiji! You joined in as well, didn’t you?

Reiji: Hmph. I simply tried to stop you. Therefore, I bear no responsibilty whatsoever. 

Shuu walks up to them.

Shuu: Ugh...Pipe down. Do you have any idea what time it is? You’re no children, so don’t be making a fuss during the night.

Laito: You were woken up too, Shuu...

Shuu: ...! Laito...Your face is covered in blood.

Laito: I know! You can blame Ayato-kun, Kanato-kun and Reiji for this!

Ayato: We’re not at fault! You just popped in your face right as the bottle went flying into the air.

Shuu: Haah...? Bottle? What’s this?

*Cling*

Shuu: Hm? Demon World-made...Vampire Juice for kids?

Reiji: Heh. It appears to be a New Year’s gift from Subaru’s mother.

Subaru: Ah? From my mom? 

Laito: Oh? You’re up too, Subaru-kun?

Subaru: I couldn’t sleep from all the noise you guys were makin’. Anyway...Is that juice seriously from my mom?

Kanato: It has ‘Christa’ written as the sender’s name.

Subaru: Aah!? It’s written on that ripped up paper? ...Actually, the bottle has gotten quite the beatin’ too...Ah! Even the case is in pieces!

Laito: Ayato-kun, Kanato-kun and Reiji did that. Thanks to them, the bottle hit my delicate complexion and look at me now!

Ayato: ...! Laito! Snitches get stitches!

Shuu: ...Laito. Don’t get Subaru angry. If that brat goes on a rampage and destroys the manor again, I’m the one who gets yelled at.

Subaru: ...Aah!? Who are you callin’ a brat!?

Shuu: Don’t try and pick a fight either, Subaru. Haah...I’m sleepy.

Subaru: Che! ...Anyway, don’t you guys dare drink that stuff without my permission!

Kanato: Are you implying you want us to give it a taste? Fufu~

Subaru: No! T-This is...!

Ayato: Geez, stop whinin’...Oi, Chichinashi! Come here for a sec!

Reiji: What are you going to do, Ayato?

Ayato: Judgin’ by what Subaru said just now, there’s somethin’ up with this juice, right? So I figured we can just have Chichinashi try it first.

Kanato: Aah, I see! That’s a great idea! Fufufu~

Reiji: Then again, it was sent to us by Christa-sama, so I doubt it will be anything too extreme. Of course, I do not know what its effects will be on her. Fufu...

Laito: Good point~ ...However, I’m looking forward to see what will happen to Bitch-chan~

Shuu: Haha...Yeah. If you’ve got the time to stand there with that dumb look on your face, why don’t you taste test for us instead?

Subaru: O-Oi, s-she’s...!

Kanato: Subaru, stay out of this.

Subaru: Che...I’m not takin’ responsibility for this!

Ayato: Well then...

*Pop*

Ayato pours you a glass.

Ayato: Here you go, Chichinashi. Bottoms up!

You deny.

Laito: ‘No’...? I am pretty sure you don’t have the right to refuse, though? Bitch-chan, this isn’t a request. We’re ordering you to drink it.

Kanato: Come on...I’m sure it’ll be delicious. Fufufu~ Don’t worry. We’ll have some later as well. Okay?

*Gulp gulp gulp*

Subaru: ...O-Oi...You ‘kay?

You nod.

Subaru: Hah...?

Ayato: It’s surprisingly delicious? Che...Borin’! You let me down! This is the part where you reveal that it tastes nasty, right?

Kanato: I was looking forward to seeing you scrunch up your face in disgust as well. I got my hopes up for nothing.

Ayato: Well, if Chichinashi thinks it’s good, it should be safe.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

Ayato: She’s right. This stuff’s good!

Kanato: Hm...I’ll have a sip as well then.

*Gulp gulp*

Kanato: ...It might be quite good, actually. Say, you want some as well, Teddy?

Laito: Eeh? It’s good? The color’s kind of suspicious, so I was convinced the taste would be off too.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

Laito: ...Aah. You’re right. Contrary to its appearance, it tastes very light and refreshing.

Reiji: Hm. Seems like we did not need to test it for poison after all. I happen to be a little thirsty right now, so I shall have a sip as well.

*Gulp gulp*

Reiji: Mmh...Well, for a store-bought product, I suppose it is one of the higher quality ones.

Shuu: It may be store-bought, but it’s the Demon World we’re talking about. Haah...I wanted to give it a try as well, so I guess this works. Of course, your blood is still my number one choice.

*Gulp gulp*

Shuu: ...It’s passable, I guess.

Subaru: Haah? What?

You offer Subaru some of the juice.

Subaru: You want to know if I’ll have some? I’m fine. Why did mother even send me this...? ...If I recall correctly, this stuff has some sort of effect where it’ll trigger something...But you seem totally fine, huh? Is it fine then?

*Pop*

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi. Gimme one more.

Kanato: Me too, please. ...Eh? What was that?

You tell them to be careful. 

Laito: Are you worried we’ll drink too much? You’re always such a worrywrat, Bitch-chan~ It’ll be fine! ...One more glass for me too!

Subaru: Oi, you bastard! Pour it yourself!

Shuu: Ooi, give me one too.

Reiji: Me too, if you’d be so kind.

Subaru: Did you even hear what I said just now!? ...Don’t come cryin’ to me afterwards, fuck!

*TIMESKIP*

Ayato: We’ve drank quite a bit...Is it all gone?

*Cling*

Ayato: ...Somehow...I feel a little lightheaded...That’s odd...Huh? Wait, Chichinashi...You’re...Did you duplicate yourself!? ...There’s two Chichinashi’s! That doesn’t make any sense. ...Are you maybe one of those...!? Those Japanese dudes that disappear in a smokescreen...What are they called again? 

*Gulp gulp*

Reiji: ...Ninjas.

Ayato: Right, ninjas! Oi, Chichinashi! Reveal your true identity to us!

Ayato tries to grab the ‘duplicate’ of you. 

*Rustle*

Ayato: ...!? Oi, don’t run away! ...Huh? Oi, Chichinashi! I said no runnin’ away!

You tell him you’re not moving.

Ayato: ...Ah? You’re not? Don’t lie!

You frown.

Shuu: Heh...Hahahaha! What is Ayato doing? He’s yelling at the air. Hahaha. That’s so weird...Ahahaha!

Subaru: ...That’s why I warned them. Told them to stop. Oi, what are we gonna do ‘bout thiーー

Kanato: ...Is something the matter? 

You explain.

Kanato: Eh? ...We’re drunk? As if! After all...You were...totally fine after all...More importantly...Say...Scoot a little closer?

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: Aaah~ You smell so nice...

*Sniff*

Kanato: Hey...Please stroke my head? (2) Please? I’m begging you...

Subaru: Oi, you guys! Stop doin’ weird shit to heーー

*Rustle*

Laito: ...Hey, Kanato-kun! Could you stop fawning over Bitch-chan without my permission? ...Actually, don’t do such obscene things like hugging her! Don’t you feel bad for her!?

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: ...How could you!? What are you doing, Laito!?

Ayato: Exactly! Oi, Chichinashi! You’re a ninja, right? In that case, do some crazy shit! Right? You know...Like strippin’ out of all of your clothes without usin’ your hands! That kinda stuff! Hehe~

Laito: The same goes for you, Ayato-kun! Could you please stay away from Bitch-chan? You too, what are you trying to achieve? Are you happy to have the two of them hit on you like that? When did you become that sort of girl? 

*Thud*

Laito: Tell me, Bitch-chan...Do you understand? When those kind of guys try to pick you up, you have to make clear you’re not interested, you know!? 

Shuu: Hahahaha! What are you getting so upset for, Laito? Aren’t you the one who is always trying to get in her pants? Ahahaha! So funny! ...I’m getting tears in my eyes.

Subaru: Che...Shut the fuck up, Shuu! And you too, don’t just stand there dumbfounded! Who knows what these guys will do to you!? Come here!

Subaru tugs you his way.

*Rustle* 

Ayato: Wait, Chichinashi. You...can make copies of yourself, but you can’t change the size of your boobs, huh? You’re still as flat as ever. 

Laito: Wha...!? How dare you use such crude language towards Bitch-chan! ‘Boobs’ and such...I want to hear none of such shameless vocabulary!

Reiji: (sobs) ...L-Laito...You have finally been enlightened, it seems? 

*Thud*

Ayato: Ow! The fuck you doin’, Reiji!? Don’t get in my way! 

Reiji: ...Shut up! (sobs) Laito has finally...decided to change himself for the better! Is there anything more delightful than that? ...Don’t ruin my moment!

Reiji knocks Ayato out cold.

Ayato: ーーAck!

*THUD*

Shuu: Haha...Ayato won’t wake up...Ahahaha!

Reiji: Uu...I do not wish to resort to such violent measures...However...Now that Laito is finally changing for the better, I simply cannot allow Ayato to drag him back down. For the sake of this family, I had to use my fists. (3) You understand, don’t you? This is in your best interest as well! (sobs)

Laito: Reiji, come on! No matter how obscene Ayato-kun’s language may have been, violence is not the answer! What if he dies!?

*Rustle rustle*

Reiji: Shush! 

*THUD*

Laito: ...Uck!? Ah...

*Thud*

Shuu: Hahaha! Laito won’t wake up either! Reiji’s way too strong! Ahahahaha!!

Reiji: Right now...I am talking...Why would you interrupt me!? (sobs)

Shuu: Ahahahaha!! Reiji’s crying and getting mad at the same time! Now that’s a skill! Hahaha!! ...Say, are you upset as well? Having to deal (4) with all of this...

Kanato: Hey, hey...! It’s no fair Shuu gets all the attention...! Give me some as well...

Subaru: ...!? Don’t appear out of nowhere, geez! ...Oi! Get away from her!

Kanato: Aah...It’s so hot...Say, you think so too, don’t you? 

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: Nn...Mmh...

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: ...Huh? You want to know what I’m doing? I’m hot so I’m taking off my clothes? Isn’t that obvious?

Subaru: Oi, Kanato. Cut it out!

Kanato: Also...I was hoping you would carress me gently...~ Heh...There!

Kanato throws his shirt into the air.

Subaru: ...!? D-Don’t look! Close your eyes!

Laito: Nn...Ah...My stomach hurts...Wait...Eh? K-Kanato-kun...Why are you looking like that!? Your upper body is completely naked...How shameless! 

Ayato: Fuck...My head’s throbbin’ too...Huh? I see. Kanato...You were a ninja all along too!? That’s how you took off your clothes in the blink of an eye, right!?

Subaru: ...Haah. They woke up at the worst possible time.

Ayato: Bein’ a ninja AND a Vampire is so cool! I want to become a ninja too! Oi, Kanato! How can I be one?

Subaru: Get a grip already! I don’t care if you rebrand yourself as a damn ‘Vampire ninja’ but don’t get her involved!

Laito: Subaru-kun...Why do you always use such foul language? Onii-chan has been telling you time after time, remember? You shouldn’t use such naughty words!

Subaru: Che...That��s a first for me. Besides, don’t be tryin’ to act like a proper older brother right noーー

Ayato: What’s that, Subaru? You’re not gonna listen to your older brothers?

Subaru: W...Why am I being targetted? (4) ...Oi! Whatcha laughin’ for!? Don’t just stand there watchin’ and help me ouーー Wait, Kanato! Don’t try and take off your bottoms as well!

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: Nn...You’re so nosy, Subaru! When did you become a second Reiji!?

Laito: Kanato-kun, you can’t! Don’t take off any more clothes!

Ayato: You’re gonna use your strippin’ technique again!? I want to watch it from up close! 

Subaru: ...You jerks!! CUT THE CRAP!!!!

*THUD*

Subaru: Haah, haah...!

Reiji: Ah...Ah...Subaru...What have you done...? You’ve successfully...punched a hole through the roof... (sobs) I would have never fantomed...such a tragedy would befall us! Uu...

Subaru: ...It...It’s not my fault...

You kneel down next to Reiji.

Reiji: What is the matter?

You offer him a handkerchief.

Reiji: What’s this? You are offering me your handkerchief because I am crying? You truly are... (continues sobbing)

Shuu: Hahahaha! You’re way too much of a crybaby, Reiji!

Reiji: These are tears of happiness so it does not count.  For one, I have been holding back these tears all this time because of your lazy behavior. You should promise to do better from here on out as well!

Shuu: ...Say that one more time?

Shuu suddenly grabs hold of Reiji’s collar.

*Rustle*

Reiji: ...!?

Shuu: I’ve been holding back this whole time...All because you are still my younger brother in the end. On the other hand, you...

Reiji: S-Shuu...

Subaru: O-Oi...! 

Shuu: You...Pfft...Fufu...

Reiji: ...!! ...Eh? 

Shuu: Ahahaha!! That face! Reiji! You’ve even got tears in your eyes! What a sight! Hahahaha!

Reiji: You...You...really are nothing but a deadbeat! ...How could you!?

You ask Shuu to stop.

Shuu: ...Haah!? What? ...Heh. You wanna join in too? 

Subaru: Oi, you! Now’s not the time to get involved!

Reiji: For one...Ever since you came here, it’s been one disaster after the other...Our everyday life keeps on getting thrown in disorder...Why!? 

You flinch. 

Shuu: Haha...You’ve broken out in a cold sweat. Your tense expression looks nice too. Hahaha...

Reiji: Hey, Shuu! You’re getting way too close to her! I am talking to her right now!

Shuu: Hahaha! Don’t get your panties in a knot, Reiji. Why are you crying that much?

Subaru: Both of you need to stop gettin’ up in her face! Ah...This is such a pain. Do somethin’ ‘bout this yourself!

Shuu: Ahaha...Subaru’s worked up too...Hahaha! What’s wrong with you guys today? You’re all way too agitated, don’t you think? Ahahaha

Reiji: Subaru...How dare you speak that way to your older brothers? You are actually kindhearted, aren’t you? Why do you keep on acting tough? As your older brother, it saddens me. (sobs)

Subaru: Once again...Why are all of you bastards suddenly pullin’ the older brother card!? Che...Oi, you two, get away from her already. 

Shuu & Reiji (simultaneously): Don’t want to.

Subaru: Ugh...GET AWAY I SAID! 

*Rustle rustle*

Subaru: Aah...You! Come here!

Subaru tries to drag you away from Shuu & Reiji.

*Rustle*

Shuu: What are you doing...? She’s going to play with us.

Reiji: Exactly! We were still in the middle of our conversation after all!

Subaru: Ugh...Disgustin’...I’m tellin’ you to cut it out! Come on!!

*THUD*

Shuu & Reiji: ...!?

Subaru sends the whole gang flying.

*BOOM*

Subaru: Haah, haah...Fuck...I did it again...Ugh! Actually, how come you’re totally fine even though you had some of that juice as well? 

You shrug.

Subaru: Haah? You feel nothin’ at all? ...Haah, in other words, you’re a heavy weight? 

You seem worried about Shuu & Reiji. 

Subaru: ...Aah!? Just forget ‘bout those guーー ...Right. It’s a pain, but I guess we should go look for them at least.

*TIMESKIP*

Laito: Say, Kanato-kun...Why are you naked?

Kanato: Uu... (sobs) T-That’s...Uu...What I’d like to know...!! Hey, Ayato! Answer the question...!!

Ayato: I don’t know either. ...Geh! Kanato...Your face a soppy mess from the tears. ...Ugh...My head hurts. I can’t remember anythin’ past drinkin’ that weird juice for Subaru. 

Laito: Me too...I do remember you suddenly became abnormally intrigued by ninjas though...

Ayato: Haah!? I didn’t say anythin’ like that!

Kanato: But...I vaguely remember something like that too. Also, Laito was acting odd too.

Laito: Eeh!? Really? I’m my usual self, aren’t I?

Ayato: Nah, you were weird. I remember it too. I don’t know why, but you were losin’ your shit.

 Laito: Eeeh...!? I’d be the last person to do that! Both of you are so rude. ...More importantly, why are we here? On top of that...My body’s hurting in various places. 

Kanato: Also...It’s cold!!

Ayato: Ugh...Calm down, Kanato. For now, let’s just head home.

Laito: Right. ...So, are we taking our big brothers laying over there with us?

Kanato: I don’t want to. If you’re going to carry them, you two will have to do that.

*Rustle rustle*

Ayato: Heavy-hoh...By the way, why are these two out cold? The fuck happened? 

Latio: Heavy-hoh...

*Rustle rustle* 

Laito: Who knows...I wonder why?

Kanato: Haah...I truly feel ashamed having to call these two my older brothers. 

Laito: My thoughts exactly. Having such incapable older brothers only brings more trouble. For us younger siblings, that is.

Ayato: Exactly, for real.

The three of them walk home.

*TIMESKIP*

Subaru: ...Why have you been smilin’ brightly this whole time? It’s givin’ me the creeps.

You explain.

Subaru: Aah...!? You feel glad for me that despite everything, I’ve still got my older brothers to rely on!? ...What part of all the shit that just went down makes you think that!? Even right now, I - the youngest of them all - have to look for their sad asses! 

You shake your head.

Subaru: ...That’s not what you meant? ...Ugh. I don’t get what you’re trying to say. Haah...I guess that havin’ five troublesome older brothers isn’t always bad.

You smile again.

Subaru: ...Oi! I said ‘not always’...! So stop grinnin’! Che...Anyway, let’s go look for them!

You nod, leaving the house with Subaru.

*Creaaaak*

*Thud*

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) お歳暮 or ‘oseibo’ is made up of the characters for ‘year’ and ‘to end/closure’, referring to a tradition in Japan to give the people who have taken good care of you throughout the year some sort of gift in return. 

(2) Kanato uses the term なでなでする or ‘nade-nade suru’ which is a very childish/cute way of asking for head pats. The ‘nade’ part comes from the verb ‘naderu’ which means ‘to pat/to pet’.

(3) 鉄拳制裁 or ‘tekken seisai’ means ‘punishment by striking with clenched fists’, litereally. 

(4) Shuu uses the term 飲む or ‘nomu’ in the passive form. Usually this means ‘to drink’ so at first I thought he was referring back to when Ayato forced her to drink the juice, but since ‘nomu’ is also sometimes used in the sense as ‘to accept’, I think he may be referring to the MC having to keep up with the chaos going on? 

(5) Literally he says ‘why are they pointing the heads/tips of their spears at me?’, but this should not be taken literally, of course. :P

[tamagochiie]

a line without a hook | part three.

part three. “merely tolerable, really.”

chapter synopsis. Had you known freedom tasted like this, you wouldn’t have bothered to form an attachment with Mr. Ackerman. Was there really a point in what you were doing? 

word count. 7.5k

tags. swearing, angst, tones of misogyny

notes. This is a very late post, and I apologize for that, but I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. As for the upcoming chapter for this week, there may been another delay. I’ve been swamped with a lot of assignments and its my finals week, so I hope you all understand :/ 

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<< part two. | part four. >>

Your mother always told you gossip to women is like honey to a swarm of flies: you can catch more of them depending how sweet the scandal is. But she never thought to tell you what it'd be like if you were the honey, that the women would stick to you, drinking the life out of every little thing you do and unpack it together with their girl friends over afternoon tea and biscuits.

Your name, along with Mr. Ackerman's, had travelled from one tongue to the other in the last four days.

Each story are more intricately fabricated than the last. You heard all sorts of things, too many thing to keep track of — something about Mr. Ackerman's family background and more so yours, but you didn't want to pay heed over something that didn't come directly from the man himself.

And just the other day, while you commuted to town to deliver Reiner's forgotten lunch, you overhead a group of women whispering that you were already singing with the church bells.

You had shuddered at the thought and assumed it was something your mother must've cooked up given how she easily melted at Mr. Ackerman's feet when he came to visit a few days ago.

You and Mr. Ackerman were both aware that his visit, and all the kind and loving words he had said before you and your family, were merely for show. And that it was for purpose of sweeping your house clean of all trespassers and violators of your freedom.

But nonetheless, even with a letter that came to heed you of his visit, you were still left utterly speechless.

Mr. Ackerman had strolled into your cozy home, he hadn't been swathed in his usual drab choice of clothing, but settled with more pleasing fashion that didn't say,"I'm pessimistic and moody, and I've got a reputation for killing for sport".

He had been bathed in shades of blue, but still leaned on the darker side of the color spectrum. It had been a good change save for his signature cravat, and it led you to wonder just how many he owned.

You came to the conclusion he owned quite enough to be stitched together and make a thick and long blanket to last through the winter.

However, what had left you gobsmacked and rapidly blinking in succession was not Mr. Ackerman's slight change of style, but the little smirk across his lips while he spoke to your mother. His tone hadn't been clipped and did not drip in annoyance, but was a twinge softer — completely out of pocket for a man with a reputation for being dark and brooding.

Sasha, on the other hand, had been easily tickled in pure curiosity by Mr. Ackerman, poking and prodding him with peculiar and rather personal questions. You had expected he'd yell at her, seeing he'd be the kind of person to do that.

But he didn't snap. It was obvious his patience had been wearing thing, so he kept his replies quick and short just like his temper.

Pieck never spoke a word, but had instead observed the exchange as she sat on the couch, sandwiched between Connie and Jean while your mother had done her best to entertain Mr. Ackerman in small talk even though the man reeks of disdain for it.

Though Mr. Ackerman had successfully wooed your mother, and probably the rest of your sisters and Connie, Reiner was anything but.

Your brother protectively glued himself to your side, glaring down at Mr. Ackerman with a vexed look plastered across his scruffy face. Unfortunately, Reiner's attempt to be intimidating had fallen short and made you not only you, but Mr. Ackerman, suppress a stifling laugh.

Regardless of your brother's wishes, Mr. Ackerman's visit had been deemed fruitful. Your mother's eyes as well as her heart completely set on Mr. Ackerman and Mr. Ackerman alone.

To which both requests you firmly nodded and smiled at.

But your smile had been quick to fade.

You agreed to this little sham because you admired your freedom, but ever since Mr. Ackerman's visit, despite no men coming to bother you from the early hours of the morning till the late afternoon, you find yourself anything but free.

Your mother, the seventh circle of your personal hell, has taken it upon herself to berate you—tells you to make more of an effort on your appearance. She'll comment on how you sit, how you speak or how you eat, and every other thing you do.

You may have been liberated by the lusting grips of men, your mother's iron clad hold on even the thought of you being a few steps away from marriage is much tighter, and much more stubborn than you ever imagined.

So you spend your days hidden in your room, away from your mother and the rest of the world.

Sometimes you'll read or stare out the window, and when you do decide to step out of your little bubble, you'll be sure to check if the coast is clear from any possibly ambushes from your mother.

Though the only time you really do go out is to check the mail to see if Mr. Ackerman has written to you — he has not — or spend some time with your great love, your horse, Maria.

But for the most part, you plant yourself on the couch right up against window sill with your back slumped on the wall and legs sprawled out. You stare outside, not really looking at anything in particular.

Maybe the chickens.

You heavily sigh, fogging up the class as you gaze idly, twirling the ends of your hair. You grow jealous of the chickens and the roosters because at least they have their freedom. Their simple minds and their simple lives; the lay eggs and crow at dawn.

Damn chickens, you seethe in thought.

There's a faint knocking on your bedroom door that cease your internal tanget. You turn your head as the door creaks open, revealing your sister, Sasha, poking her head out between the gap. A friendly smile adorns her pink lips as she holds a plate of food in her hands.

"Can I come in?" She asks, already stepping inside. "I brought you food. You've been cooped up in here for too long, I thought you might be hungry."

You chuckle and motion her to come in.

Sasha moves briskly and steps inside before shutting the door behind her. She tiptoes across the room and over to you. She lightly taps your foot to make room and you swing it off the couch.

She places the tray between the two of you. A few loaves of bread, some grapes, and other fresh fruit that you assume she's stolen from the batch Reiner's supposed to sell.

She swipes the loaf of bread, breaking it in half and hands you the bigger piece before chewing her's down.

"You alright?" She asks, her words muffled by the bread. "Mamma's gotten under your skin, hasn't she?"

You bob your head, humming in response as you eat the bread bit by bit, taking your time.

Sasha follows your line of sight, checking to see what you've been so keenly staring at. Only to find that it's just a bunch of chickens running around.

"I'm overwhelmed," You confess breathily. You pull your legs up to your chest and rest your chin onto your knees. "I don't like the feeling one bit."

"Is it because of Mr. Ackerman?" Sasha looks at you with concern outlining the softness of her face. You don't really reply, just lulling your head in thought. "You surprise me, you know."

"I do?"

Sasha hums delightfully as she takes her last bite of her bread before moving onto the grapes.

"For someone who admires her freedom and never spared an interest in even the thought of forming an attachment, you latched onto Mr. Ackerman rather quickly." Sasha had always been mistaken for an idiot at a surface level, but she's a lot more perceptive than people give her credit for — than you give her credit for. And for once, you hated it. "One could even say that it's a bit...odd. But you've always been off, so maybe it isn't so out of the blue."

"Oh, how you read me so well," You say, sarcasm oozing from your words. You take a quick bite of bread.

"What's he like?"

You shrug your shoulders, pouting in thought. "I've only ever met him thrice," You point out, laughing at the curiosity avidly pooling from her eyes. "There's not much I can judge. If anything, I think you'd know more than me since you've pummeled the poor man with one too many questions."

Sasha takes the tray of food and scooches closer to you before putting it on her lap.

"But that's different! You've gotten first hand experience. Is he really like all the rumors?" She asks, a little too keenly. "Is he really as mean as they say? Because when he visited the house, he seemed too stiff for comfort."

You snort and are quick to cover your mouth to keep the bread from spilling from your lips.

"Mm, well, Mr. Ackerman is man of few words and very few expression, but he seems...genuine?" You don't mean for it to come out sounding like a question, but the more you speak, the more you're hit with the realization you know absolutely no idea who the man is.

All you're really left with is his hatred for attention, and your mutual need for peace. Everything else you try to think of comes up short.

Mr. Ackerman hasn't written a letter to you since his visit. It's not like he said he was going to, but a very small and naive part of you thought he would.

Sasha continues to rain down on you with more questions, but it isn't as persistent as you'd expect her to be. Its either her line of concentration snaps too quickly for you to formulate a response, or she's just too excited to hear more.

You answer what you can until you can no longer think. Eventually you're too tired to talk about you and the subject of the conversation shifts to Sasha.

"Hey, Sasha," You carefully speak between chews, minding the grape in your mouth. Sasha's eyes, still colored in hunger as she takes another loaf of bread, darts to look at you. "What about you, though?"

"Hmm?"

"You and..." You shift in your seat and lean in. "You and Nicolo - are you two really - Oh! My God, are you alright?"

Sasha nearly chokes on her bread. Clenching her fist, she beats her chest to help soothe the burn in her throat, coughing for air.

"Sasha!"

"I-I'm fine!" She finally says, swallowing thickly. "Sorry, yes, I'm fine."

"Do you need water?" Sasha shakes her head as she rests her hand on your shoulder to keep you still in case you choose to leave. You move even closer to rub her back to ease her, but once she does, a smirk plays across your lips and chuckle stumbles from your lips. "So, I guess it's true. You and Nicolo really are —"

"Shut up!" Sasha interjects, her head snapping up to look at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. "Please! I've had enough of mamma pestering me about this— ever since Pieck decided to tattle on me! If you're going to being just as annoying as her than—"

"I won't be!" You argue, your tone playful and lilting. "I'm only asking, and you're taking forever to say anything!"

"Well, fine! Alright." Sasha sharply huffs in defeat as she tosses her bread onto the tray and sets it back onto the couch. "Yes, okay, I suppose I might have feelings for Nicolo, but I don't know. I can't tell."

"You can't tell...?"

Sasha lets out another breath as she slumps against the wall. Her head tilts up to look at the cracked ceiling before looking back down to you, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she picks the right words to convey how she feels. She nervously twiddles her thumbs while doing so.

"How do you even know when you like someone?"

You blink at Sasha, taken aback by her question while she looks at you eagerly.

You realize, after a few breaths, you don't have a definite answer because unlike Pieck, you've never really experienced the feeling yourself. You always lived vicariously through fictional characters you read in novels, and Mrs. Bloom's sweet story of how she met her husband.

But other than that, you come up short—you can't tell at all.

"I think I'm the wrong one to ask." You confess, causing Sasha to look at you quizzically as confusion stirs in her mind. "I haven't really found the answer myself, I'm sorry."

Sasha sighs dejectedly.

"It's best to ask Pieck, isn't it?"

"As me what?" Pieck's voice, delicate and laced in curiosity, has your heads turn to the bedroom door.

It seems you were both too deep into your conversation to hear her knocking.

Pieck stands by the door, her olive green dress flows in the gentle window coming from the opened window, her hair into the usual messy, low ponytail that falls down her shoulders; her eyes heavy-laden with sleepiness.

Your eyes trail down to her hand, finding a pile of letters tightly held in it.

"Pieck, what's that?" You ask, dismissing her question with a question.

"Now hold on," Pieck hides the letters behind her back, pressing herself against the door to create even more distance—as if the wide expanse of the room wasn't enough. "What's the question?"

Sasha rolls her eyes. "It's silly."

"Well, if it's from you, I'm sure it is."

Sasha grumbles at Pieck's sarcastic retort, and you watch as your two sisters begin to bicker.

"If you're going to be an ass, I won't tell you." Sasha crosses her arms and twists her body away from Pieck and towards the window, her eyes falling to the clucking hens.

Peick nimbly trots across the floor and over to Sasha's side, crashing into her and quickly wrapping her arms around her shoulders, nosing through Sasha's hair bunched up in a high pony as she rests her chin onto her shoulder.

"Go away!" Sasha growls, her face contorts a sour expression as her attempts to shove Pieck off fails.

"Oh, c'moooon," Pieck coos, peppering kisses over her little sister's cheek, "won't you tell me? I hate being left out, especially when it's the two of you."

Sasha grunts as she tries to pry away from Pieck, but only to be caught in sloppy kisses on the cheek and the temple of her forehead. Though Sasha visibly shows disgust, even you can see that she loves being showered in affection from Pieck.

Pieck, being the eldest and holding the most responsibility, had always held you both with great love and adoration.

"Alright!" Sasha yells in surrender, tangled in the arms of her sister and somehow in a headlock as Pieck sits behind her. "I'll tell you, I'll tell you! Let me go and give me room, please."

Sasha elbows Pieck away from her, giving her enough space to breathe, and you snatch the tray off the couch and onto your lap to keep it from falling.

And as Sasha begins to explain her little dilemma, Pieck comfortably sits herself behind her, propping her chin back onto her shoulder and winding her arm around her waist as she listens intently. Pieck's gentleness doesn't go unnoticed by Sasha, and you watch as she sinks in the hug.

Pieck clicks her tongue, her eyes look at you as she falls into a thought, not deep enough to overthink and get carried away as she finds the answer.

"Hmmm, love and likeness can be complicated, but only if you let it be." You tilt your head at Pieck as she continues on her train of thought. "But you can tell if you like someone if you enjoy being with them and find their company pleasant. Do you find Nicolo's company pleasant?"

Sasha mindlessly hums in thought as her head lulls back on Pieck's shoulder.

"I do, actually." Sasha admits without hesitation. "I think..." She takes a beat to suck her teeth as she continues to think about it a little more, "I like the food he makes and that he, well, never seems to be bothered by me..."

"He's always so kind—like his eyes. His smile's nice, too, I suppose. Whenever he speaks, whether it's about food or well, other things, I can't help but listen."

There it is, the shimmer of affection in her light brown eyes and the oh-so-subtle smile across her lips. You almost miss it, but the world stills around you as you're caught in her bubble.

Pieck gives you a knowing look, smiling playfully.

Without saying a word or even slipping a sound, you and Pieck come to the agreement that Sasha'll have to come to her own realization that he loves him. The question is when she'll arrive at it.

Sasha brushes it off, not wanting to muddle herself any longer. She plucks the letters from Pieck's grasp and eagerly swifts through the pile while humming thoughtfully, completely ignoring Pieck's groan of disdain.

It's the usual; a couple of people from your father's family, inquiring when you're to sell the estate, one from your distant aunt from your mother's side that never bothers to actually visit, but diligently sends letters whether it be rain or shine, and one for —

"You've got a letter!" Sasha chirps, snapping her head up to look at you before shoving it into your hands. "It's from Mr. Ackerman! He's finally written to you!"

You throw your legs over the edge of the couch, sitting upright and fixing your hair as if Mr. Ackerman's just right there, watching you as you open his letter with shaky breaths and nimble fingers.

You quickly but carefully open his letter, scanning through his words and your eyes bulge out of it's sockets.

"What's it say?" Pieck inquires, excitement dripping from her lips as she scooches closer to try and peak at the letter. "Will he be visiting again?"

You shake your head.

"Well, don't be shy!" Sasha whines, "What is it?"

You open and close your mouth, blinking frantically as your shock still rides through your body. "Mr. Ackerman would like me to visit him at his estate next Tuesday."

When your mother heard news of your presence being requested by Mr. Ackerman, she took it upon herself to teach everything you needed to know about being "prim and proper". She stole your remaining days of peace and prepped you as best as she could.

When it came time for you to leave, she was adamant that you opt to take horseback instead of taking the carriage. All, especially your brother Reiner, were completely against it when they noticed the storm clouds reeling in. But your mother was deeply rooted in her stance, firm like a tree that not even the wind of your brother's disdain could change her mind.

So there you stand, having been caught in the rain, dripping from head to toe as the Smith estate towers over you, as if it's ready to swallow you whole in one go. You have to crane your neck back in a particularly painful angle to get a good look of the entire building, and you’re sure you’re only seeing the very tip of the iceberg.

Your mother warned you it would be much larger than you were used to - you just never imagined it to look like something out of a book.

Shivering and tightly wrapping your coat over you to trap any warmth you might have left with one hand, you swiftly knock on the door with the other. A shuddering breath escapes you when the door creaks open, revealing a servant to greet you in.

“Ah, Miss,” The servant’s eyes widen in fright, flinching back.  His gulp is audible even with the thundering behind you. He scans you from head to toe, and he doesn’t bother to mask his sneering at your drenched frame and all the mud collected at the hem of your skirt. “You must be Miss Blouse, yes?” You greeted him with a sneeze, and briefly apologized. “Come quickly before you catch a cold.”

But your second and most aggressive sneeze yet tells him you might already have one.

“He’s been expecting you,” Is all the servant says before guiding you down that hall.

You rub your eyes, wiping your hairs sticking to your face as you take in the sight before you. The air in the estate is chilly and deadly quiet - enough to hear the sound of your clothes dripping with water and to catch the servant clicking his tongue at you.

You hold your breath; you didn’t think the estate could get any bigger, but it does. The hallway is vast and seemingly endless; portraits of many different men and women - all who you assume were probably family members of Mr. Smith because of the signature blonde hair and blue eyes - canvas over the great walls.

Giddiness tickles down from your chest and into your stomach as you trail behind the servant, your arms swaying to the side with a little skip in your step. You try your best to catch a peak at every room and hall you pass by, but everything moves in blur.

You can’t tell if you’re tired from your travels or if it's the pace you’re walking in. You take deep breaths, trying to pull yourself together as the servant ushers you into the drawing room.

“Mr. Ackerman will be here shortly,” is all he leaves you with, not bothering to spare another breath.

You’re surrounded by more paintings and books, but a particular painting catches your eye. It’s a portrait of a woman relaxed on a chair; she looks nothing like the ones outside.  She has soft features and kind eyes, her lips supple and plump with an endearing smile. Her dark hair flows down to her shoulders, framing her face.

You squint your eyes, inching towards it with your hands clasped behind your back to avoid reaching out to touch it. The longer you stare, you find a weird sense of familiarity in her. But you just can’t -

“You’re wet.” You snap your head towards the gravelly voice to find Levi standing by the door with his brows pulled down in horror. “You’ve tracked in so much rain water, I thought a dog had stalked in.”

“Oh, I’m quite fine - achoo! Thank you for asking - achoo!” Your feeble attempt to shoot down his sarcastic remark is embarrassingly interrupted by your persistent sneezing. You wipe your nose with the back of your glove, earning a look of disgust from Mr. Ackerman. “Excuse me, I got caught in the rain.”

“I couldn’t tell,” He clips with a tight lip. “You could catch a cold -”

“Achoo!”

“It seems you already have…” Mr. Ackerman groans, and you find yourself picking at your fingers in embarrassment, your head lowered to the floor. “Follow me, I’ll give you something to change out of.”

Mr. Ackerman wastes a single breath, nor does he allow you to. But instead, with the utmost jaded expression on his face, he turns on his heels and leaves the room, expecting you to follow. You have to admit, with a fuzzy feeling buzzing in your head and the sudden sensitivity to the ache in your bones, it takes you a moment to pick up what he says and follow suit.

Has it always been this chilly?

A tremble in your damp coat, exhaling tremulously as you trot down the hall behind Mr. Ackerman. Your struggle for warmth doesn’t fall on dear ears, but it does motivate him to pick up the pace, up the winding steps and into another hallway.

Your shoes continue to click against the marble, passing by paintings and statues; for a moment you mistaken yourself to be wandering around a museum and not someone else’s home. But your head is spinning and you can’t appreciate the art even if you wanted you - you can’t even glance at a painting without wanting to vomit.

Mr. Ackerman comes to a jagged halt, causing you to nearly stumble against him. He glares at you over his shoulder.

“Sorry,” You mutter before stumbling a few steps back to give him space.

“Wait in there,” He instructs dryly, “and I’ll get someone to help you in a bit.”

“Oh, I - I don’t understand -”

“You have a cold,” He points out, “and I don’t think you’ll appreciate it if it were me helping you change out of your clothes.”

Your cheeks flush and your heart paces quickly in your chest; embarrassment overwhelms you and you wish the ground would swallow you up. He’s too direct and it makes your knees a little wobbly along with the rest of your body - you’ve turned into jello.

“Just wait in there and there’ll be a maid to bring you clothes. I’ll meet you again once you’re done.”

“Oh, uh, thank you.” You whisper, your eyes finally snap from the floor and meet Mr. Ackerman’s same old arid visage, but there’s a tenuous, unfamiliar gleam in his eyes you can’t seem to read.

He sternly nods, but just before trodding off you call after him, “Mr. Ackerman?” Your voice hushed and trembly.

“Yes, Miss Blouse?” He watches you expectantly, his head faintly tilting to the side. “Is there something else?”

Ironically, despite Mr. Ackerman coldness and indifference, you can feel that he cares - his warmth. And you can’t help but feel dangerously eager, a little selfish even, for wanting more. You can’t help but want to push further, but you’re reminded of the rumors and prefer not to push your luck.

“Thank you,” You say with a smile, a genuine one that catches him off guard, but not that you can tell with your glossy eyes.  “Thank you fo - achoo! I appreciate your kindness, Mr. Ackerman.”

There’s a very, very subtle blush that spreads across his cheeks that reaches the tips of his ears, and maybe if it wasn’t for the odd lightly in the hallway, you would’ve caught it. But once again, Mr. Ackerman thanks his lucky stars and gulps, “Don’t mind it too much,” and spins on his heels before striding down the hallway.

You watch till his footsteps fade and his slender frame disappears as he turns the corner before finally looking at the door beside you. You stare at the door knob, your hand fidgeting over it before finally taking it in your hand and opening the door.

You gasp in awe, your eyes going round - the room can eat your house in a single bite. Even the bed that sits at the center, headboard pushed up against the wall, is bigger than the one your share with Pieck. Maybe bigger than the bed your mother and father shared.

You step inside, pushing the door shut behind you before twirling and taking in all the green and gold in the room. You’ve never seen so much gold - you’ve never seen gold in general, but here you are completely surrounded by it.

The strident knocking on the door causes you to still, staggering over your feet to find a familiar face greeting you with a cheerful smile, balancing a folded pile of clothes in their hand.

“Hange!” You squeak in shock, nearly losing your balance.

“Miss Blouse,” They playfully salute to you before entering in completely. “I saw you come in earlier and Levi said you’d be in here, so I thought to help. Though he did oppose, I'm not one to follow orders anyway.”

They cleverly wink at you, stretching their arm out to hand you the clothes and you meekly take it.

“How are you feeling?” They ask, taking a seat on the bed, “You can change over there, behind the partition,” They point to the other side of the room where it stands beside the window, and you quickly shuffling behind it.

You finally peel off your clothes, finally being freed by way your damp clothes and the way it clung to your body. You sigh heavily, tremulously.

“So, how are you feeling?” Hange’s voice echoes in the room from where they sit. They lean back on the heel of their palms, lulling their head bad carelessly as they wait for your response. “Levi said you might have a cold, and luckily for you, I’m a doctor.”

You hum in response, your focus directed on changing your clothes as quickly as possible.

“I’m, uh, I think I’m okay,” There’s a tingling in your skin and an unbearable ache in your bones. Your whole body feels sensitive; you’re not sure if you feel chilly or too warm. But you don’t want to be a burden, especially since you’re already borrowing someone else's clothes.

Whose are these anyway? You can’t imagine these are Hange’s, it’s way too small.

“He said you were sneezing!” They say, their voice slightly raising. “That you were sneezing a lot.”

“Probably just allergies!” You try and laugh it off, hoping Hange doesn’t press any further. But much to your displeasure, Hange isn’t one to simply let things go.

But the moment you step out from the partition, tying your hair up to keep from staining the dress, Hange strides over to you, placing her wrist onto your forehead and hums.

“You’re sick.”

“I’m fine.” You press.

“You’re a liar.”

“I'm not!” The whine that escapes your dried lips, takes enough energy from you to have your vision grow spotty and have your knees give in. Hange loops their arm around your waist and you slump onto their chest for support. “Right, maybe I am a liar,” You admit breathily, your eyes fluttering shut. “I’m really sorry, this is extremely impolite and my mother would kill me if she found me like this.”

“Never mind what your mother says,” They sigh before helping you over to the bed, “nothing good will come of thinking about what your mother says,”

You laugh softly, finding irony in their words.

The cushions are warm and comforting, pulling you into ease as you’re swayed by your need for rest. You try to combat it by blinking away, but drowsiness overtakes you like an unrelenting storm and you fall perilous to it the second your head sinks into the pillows.

You're greeted by a sharp, persistent ache in your head and a stubborn throb in your bones. You moan in discomfort and writhe beneath the cotton bed sheets.

You feel something cold dripping down your head, but before you can reach to check, you feel a wet cloth being placed on your forehead. You crack your eyes open and draw a bitter breath to find Mr. Ackerman towering over you. His brows pulled into a deep line of focus and his eyes colored in determination as if its taking all his verve to adjust the way the towel sits on your head.

He looks down at you and his expression softens.

It softens?

"You're awake," Mr. Ackerman notes. Maybe its the sickness, and that you're probably imagining it, but does Mr. Ackerman's tone sound a lot gentler? Its almost as if he's concerned for your well-being — almost as if he's worried and relieved you're finally awake. But his face remains unreadable, devoid of emotion. "You've been asleep for quite some time, but your temperature seemed persistent. Hange said as long as the rag is frequently changed then you should be better. How are you feeling?"

Does that mean he's been changing the rag? He said it should 'changed frequently' —

You arch your back when the ache in your bones come back stronger than ever. You whine in pain and drown back into the mattress.

"I don't feel too well," You croak, swallowing dryly.

"Do you need water?"

You can only nod.

Mr. Ackerman swiftly reaches for the glass of water that sits on the bedside table. You try and sit up , your bones feel like chalk as it grates against each other. You try to take it from him, but he raises his free hand to stop you. “Let me,” is all he says to you before bringing it up to your lips.

Baffled, you still drink it.

Your thoughts are still too foggy to draft a single thought. But all you is know your heart’s drumming in your chest and your breath is hitched in your throat for an entirely different reason that’s far from your cold.

You sigh in relief after a few gulps, muttering a ‘thank you’.

“Mr. Ackerman, you said that I’ve been asleep for quite some time,” You recount, looking at him puzzled, “How long have I been asleep?”

“Two days.” He replies flatly, as if he's not bothered by it at all.

“Excuse me?”

Mr. Ackerman hums as he falls back into his chair grabbing the book beside him before opening it up to the page he left off.

“You needn’t worry,” He eases without looking up to meet your eyes, as unbothered by the worry screaming in your eyes. “I’ve already written a letter to your mother the moment you fell asleep and informed her of your current state.”

“And what did she say of it?”

“She deeply apologizes for overstaying your welcome, but is pleased to know you’re in good hands.” Mr. Ackerman turns to the next page before he crosses his legs. His eyes flicker up to look at you to find irritation seeping out of your through eyes narrowed at an empty space on the floor, chewing on the inside of your cheek “I assured her that **you are in good hands, Miss Blouse.”

“I’m sorry,” You apologize again for the umpteenth time as you stressfully run your fingers through your hair. “My mother must’ve planned this in hopes that I may grow closer to you.”

Mr. Ackerman cocks his brow at you, “Are you blaming your mother for your cold? Shouldn’t you be blaming the weather, or that you rode on horseback on a rainy day?”

"I cannot blame my mother for my cold or the weather, but I can blame her for scheming along with it." You sigh, leaning your head back onto the pillow, "My mother is an opportunist, so she must've seen the rain clouds as her 'moment to grasp'. She was adamant that I take horseback and not that carriage. My mother is many things, but most importantly, she's a scheming woman."

Much to your surprise, Mr. Ackerman smirks at your words. He smirks.

He licks his thumb before turning the page of his book, his eyes ghosting over the words without much intention to actually read.

"What are you doing?" You ask, twisting to face him, your hand tucking beneath the side of your face.

"I'm reading." He isn't.

"Here?"

"Would you rather I not keep you company?" His grey eyes blink away from the page and up at you. "Isn't this the whole point of your visit, to get o know each other?"

"W—Well, yes, but I didn't think you'd take our proposition quite literally." You voice falls soft at the end of your sentence and you feel yourself shrink in embarrassment.

"How else are we to make them believe we've formed an attachment?"

"Oh, well—"

"Is my company a bother?"

You shake your head. "Is mine?"

Mr. Ackerman chuckles and if it weren't for the whirling of your brain, you would've caught it. "Merely tolerable, really. You best get some rest, Miss. Blouse."

When you awaken again, it’s a little later in the afternoon and the sun is harshly bleeding through the glass window and casting over your face.

The first thing you notice is not the freshly changed rag resting over your forehead, but the empty chair that Mr. Ackerman sat himself earlier. You pout and you feel a little disappointed.

Disappointed?

What?

You prop yourself up on your elbows, drawing a sigh of relief. The smell of fresh sheets permeate your lungs and your tilt your head back before tilting it back up again.

Through your hooded gaze, your eyes scan through the room. You finally appreciate just how beautifully decorated it is. Shades of complimentary greens canvas the room and soft golds accent the room here and there. It’s ingrained in the walls and on the doors, and coloring the the bed posts, too.

With nimble fingers, you peel the covers off and a wave of cool air washes over your body.The floor is just as cold when your feet meet the carpet. You shuffle around the room, nosing through things but never really touching anything. You're too scared you might accidentally break something.

But the thirst of your curiosity has yet to be quenched, so you find yourself straying out the room, trotting down the hall and twirling around the space gleefully.

The estate is something written in the books. If it wasn't for the dreary, unsettling air hanging over you as thick as fog, the feeling would be magical.

Too busy to play make believe in your head, you find yourself too far off the path. Everything looks the same, and you eyes widen in panic.

Think, think, think, you chant inwardly, twisting your head around for something familiar.

Panic rises from your chest and lodges into your throat, and the last thing you need is to fall onto Mr. Ackerman's bad side.

But before your knees can shake in such unnerving trepidation, faint whispers echoing down the hall and towards you pull you from your thoughts. The voice are so faint and low, you nearly mistaken it to be elves.

You listen intently and follow the source, passing through a few more paintings and doors to lead you to a fragment of light bouncing off the wall and onto a door left ajar. You come to an immediate standstill when you recognize the voice — it's Mr. Ackerman.

Every inch of you tells you to turn around and walk away, but you aren't your mother's daughter for nothing. So the greater part of you belonging to her tugs you close, stealing a peak through the little gap as you hold your breath.

"When did you hear of this?" Mr. Ackerman's voice is gravelly, laced in annoyance. You hear him sharply huff followed by the sound of a hand slamming against the table, causing you to jolt in place. "How long have you known?"

"Not long," The unfamiliar, gruff voice says, and Levi grumbles. "Be thankful I'm telling you now and not waiting any longer. How could I with all your dallying? Since when have you taken any interest in marriage?"

"I haven't." He clips, tone dry. "The point is —"

"The point is, he's back and the last thing you need to do is wasting your time in courting a woman. Honestly, Levi, since when have you been so reckless?"

"Erwin," Mr. Ackerman grits, "my personal affairs have nothing to do with you. Who I choose to spend my time with has nothing to do with you."

"It has everything to do with me!" Mr. Smith seethes, yelling in a whispers. "If you cannot do your job, then how can I trust you? Do you not remember the reason why we're here?"

"I'm not an idiot."

"It seems that you are," Your eyes widen at Mr. Smith's counter, "she's slept here for two days, and you for two days, you've watched over her instead of doing what I've instructed you to do."

"She was sick." Mr. Ackerman argues flatly.

"Hange is a doctor for a reason."

"And I don't trust them for a reason."

You can only assume it's Mr. Smith who sighs dejectedly and clicking his tongue agitation. It only further piques your interest, and you wish it doesn't. But you can't help it, hearing that Mr. Ackerman stayed by your side while you rested made your cheeks burn and you can't help but grin to yourself, completely overjoyed.

You mentally kick yourself for being so much like your mother.

"You cannot hold that burden with you forever." Mr. Smith sighs.

"Whatever," Is the weak counter Mr. Ackerman spits back. "I'll take care of it tonight — the one of Governor Pixy's."

"Be sure to make yourself like an artificial night when you do." Mr. Smith commands, his voice smooth and stern. "You mustn't be caught."

"When have I ever been?"

You quickly leave, sprinting down the hall the moment you hear a chair grating against the floor.

Your heart drums in your chest and you breath tremulously. You heard something you shouldn't have even if it was only in incoherent pieces. Truly, it could be anything, but with the rumors circulating around him, it shouldn't be so surprising.

So why is it?

You find yourself in a more familiar part of the estate and you breathe out in relief.

You’re about to head back into your room when you stumble past a room, catching a glance of a grand piano standing tall from the corner of your eye. You retract your steps and turn your head to get a better look, your lips falling into an 'o' when you do.

She's beautiful, you think.

It’s an alluring, glossy ebony piano — one Sasha finds herself drooling over to play on whenever she sees one. She'll hate you so much when you tell her about it.

Against your better judgement, with all the bells warily ringing for you not to, you walk over to the piano, your hand shadowing over the wood. You take a seat before the keyboard just to take a good look at her. You have no intention to play her, really. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't for the life of you.

Your eyes flicker to the fall board of the piano and find a name engraved in gold.

"Petra," you whisper. "It's very nice to meet you. You're very beautiful, aren't you?"

"What the hell are you doing?" You shoot up from the chair and snap your head up to find Mr. Ackerman fuming at you. His eyes dark with rage and his jaw screwed shut, gritting at you. "I asked you a question."

"I— I didn't touch anything." You peep. You feel incredibly small underneath his scrutinizing gaze. You wish the ground would swallow you up right then and there. "I, I really didn't—"

"Get the fuck away from her." Mr. Ackerman speaks lowly, his voice quietly trembling, but you can't hear it. 

Even if you hadn’t done anything wrong, you feel as if you’ve been caught red handed. Fear buzzes in your head and fogs up any line of thought. 

"I'm sorry?"

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE PIANO!" He bellows, his eyes as fiery as his anger, causing you to stumble back and nearly trip up on your feet. "Who the fuck do you think you are, wandering into places you have no business? Is this what you shitty farm people are like? You get a chance to walk into a place thrice the size of your home and they think they could just parade around?!"

"I—I didn't mean to —"

"You and your family are fucking disgusting."

There are many things you're willing to put up with. You don't mind if someone were to come after you and call you out, but coming after your family is completely different. So your kindness and the very last bit of your patience snaps like a twig.

"I would imagine you're the disgusting one." Your voice is still small, but you’re building up to your confidence, peeling your eyes away from the patterned carpet to stare daggers right back at Mr. Ackerman who stills completely.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll admit I've overstepped and I deeply apologize for that," You begin, your voice no longer wavering in fear, "but how dare you? My family’s been nothing but kind to you."

"I think you've mistaken that I fucking care."

"I've heard many things about you, too many, for that matter. Yet I never labelled as anything as derogatory as what you've called me." You draw out a sharp breath, closing your eyes for a moment to steady you heart before continuing, "I think its disgusting, I think,  that such a man as yourself, who've I've heard has been through hell and back, would think so lowly of people that's no different than him."

You never dared to listen to the rumors or any of the gossip. Even when your mother would try to entertain any of it, you’d stop listening or leave the room if you could. But if Mr. Ackerman was willing to aim for such a low blow, you couldn't think of a reason why you shouldn't do the same.

"I think you’re 'fucking disgusting' for forgetting where you came from."

Mr. Ackerman clenches his jaw and balls his fits tight til his knuckles paint white. He's ready to fire bullets into your self-esteem, but before Mr. Ackerman can even utter a syllable, a servant appears behind him, clearing his throat to cut of the momentum.

"Apologies for the intrusion," The servant says, his tone monotonous and dry, "but it Miss Blouse's brother is here to collect her."

You widen your eyes at the servant, and your expression softens. 

“Reiner’s here?” You voice is small again. 

“Yes, Miss.”

"Perfect." Mr. Ackerman huffs, his whole body still tense. "Get the fuck out."

You snap your gaze back to Mr. Ackerman, sneering, "Gladly."

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[ddarker-dreams]

Purgatorio. Yan Giorno x Reader [COMM]

Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, descriptions of anxiety, briefly implied suicidal thoughts.  Word count: 3.2k.

Cold droplets of water run down the curves of your face, falling into the sink with a hushed splash. 

The faucet runs in the background. For how long, you do not know. Time doesn’t move and neither do you. Everything is still -- too still -- lending to the impression the only person in this world is you. In a way, that conclusion is close to the truth. This would be paradise, meticulously crafted for your confinement, boasts a modest population of two.

Your hands grip tightly onto the edges of the countertop, knuckles going white from the vise-like grip. The pain you should feel from this tight hold goes unnoticed. Each forced breath is shakier than the last, betraying the intention of steadying your heaving chest. You lift your head. In the mirror, staring back is a figure that faintly resembles your liking. A version that would deceive anyone else into believing it to be you. On a surface level, they’d be correct. None of your features have changed drastically. The eyes that are staring back, though glassy now, are the same eyes you’ve always had in color and shape. 

Shaky hands take liberty in splashing water towards your face. With undeterred focus, you direct the water mostly towards your lips, frantically dousing them. Once is nowhere near enough. Twice, three times, four times; nothing can wash away the faint tingling that haunts. This doesn’t deter you. In a trance-like state, you try to wipe yourself clean of impurities, hoping to be pure as freshly fallen snow. The fabric of your shirt is as drenched as you are from the frantic efforts. Thin material clings to you, as does the hair on either side of your face. 

You turn the faucet off. 

Sinking to the ground, you wish your legs wouldn’t betray you as they do now. It’s a miracle that you even managed to make it here on your own strength. The remnants of your energy have bloomed and withered away, your body no longer capable of supporting its own weight. Tears join in a union with the tap water. It comes out at once. Sobs wrack throughout your body, your shoulders shaking and head hung low. There is but one question that haunts your mind. A question that can no longer go ignored, but when answered, will change the trajectory of everything you’ve come to known. Everything you’ve taught yourself to cope and survive.

When did you stop hating him? 

There’s no singular moment that carries the answer, preferable it may be. It was an unobtrusive, slow yet steady descent into apathy. Giorno cornered you, yes, but that was the extent of it. He backed you up against the cliff and stopped there. It was your decision, and yours alone, to make the blind leap. Searching your memories, you look to find the day your animosity faded, your sense of self dying alongside it. 

Was it the strained yet casual talks in the morning? The luxurious gifts of diamond-studded jewelry, luxurious outfits, and exotic flowers? When you no longer flinched when overheating his approaching footsteps? Maybe it’s all of that, and more, times you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge yet. All you know is that somewhere along the line, the flames of your disgust flickered, leaving no signs that it ever even existed but ashes. Without noticing what you were doing, your fingers travel to your bottom lip, eyes closing.  This would be what served as the final nail in the coffin. 

The evening had been a normal one. 

Normal. That you had described it that way should’ve served as an omen. It had been just after an uneventful dinner. Giorno promised to take you on a walk through the outdoor gardens, an invitation not so easily rejected. Most if not all of your days were spent in the confines of four walls. The moon, which had just taken the place of the sun, illuminated winding cobblestone paths. Shrubbery of every kind sparsely decorated either side, a visual delight, pale moonlight casting an ethereal glow on each branch. You trailed behind Giorno in a silence he allowed. Lost in thought, taken with the beauty of nature. 

It was you who broke the silence. A foolish mistake. “Giorno?”

He turned and looked at you, slightly taken aback that you called for him so easily. That had to have been one of the few instances where his name left your lips, a sweet sound he committed to memory. Mundane as it was for you, Giorno interpreted it as something greater, a welcome evolution. He nodded to signal that you hold his undivided attention. A thought that was on your mind surfaces. 

“I’ve been thinking about… things I can do,” you licked your lips, tentative. Giorno eyed your body language closely, and you felt the weight of his stare. “Gardening is what I always come back to. I’d like to grow something, as a way to pass the time.” 

Your sentence died out toward the end and turned into a whisper. What a difference there was in your posture compared to his, you noticed. He never doubted himself. Never showed signs of apprehension, always crystal clear on the decisions he needed to make. Where you trod lightly, he went forward with confidence. Silly as it may be, you envied that aspect of Giorno, an aspect that elevated him to a place just out of reach. You wondered if showing more conviction would get you the results you wanted from him. 

“I’ll have it arranged so that you can. Was there something, in particular, you’d like to grow?” Giorno asked without missing a beat. Your heart leaped in your chest, encouraged by how well he received your request, and in record time too. It should’ve served as a premonition. At the time, you were more than pleased, and subconsciously took a step towards him. A step closer to your undoing. 

“Well, it’d need to be in season… maybe carrots and cauliflower. I’d like to plant things that I could cook later.” 

“That’s a good place for a beginner to start. Though I must admit, I never took you for someone who’d be interested in gardening. What brought this on?” 

It’s no use. Giorno, tactful as he may be, could see through you as if you were glass. You shifted your weight from one leg to the other. Lying would serve no purpose, he’d notice it. The truth is a frightening concept. How he might interpret your words left room for anxiety. You knew that standing there with sealed lips would be incriminating, and rushed out an unfiltered answer. 

“I want to go outside more.” 

He peered down at you through thick, blonde eyelashes. Giorno took a step closer to your person, and he frowned at the way you flinched from the sudden movement. The interaction left a bitter taste in his mouth that he sought to be rid of. To understand and deal with a person are two sides of the same coin, both a talent he’s cultivated well. Giorno’s calculating eyes met yours and never left. 

“[First]...” your name rolled off his tongue like silk, smooth and deceptively soft. “I’ll see what I can do to make it work. You know I’m partial to anything you ask of me.”  

Giorno’s tenderness was palpable, and you ate it up. The illusion of freedom blinded you to reality. He raised his hand and hovered it right above your cheek. Giorno awaited your reaction and tested the waters. When you offered no signs of resistance, he cupped your face. You noticed how his fingers trembled. This unabashed affection was the first of its kind. New to you and him both. You stared up at him, as your heart hammered against your ribcage. A touch that should’ve made you recoil did nothing of the sort. You welcomed it and treasured how human it made you feel. 

The change had been so subtle, that you missed it in a blink of the eye. His face grew closer. You could catch the different notes of his signature cologne -- sandalwood, leather, spice -- and the coarse texture of his suit which rubbed against your skin. Giorno was so near, that you felt his warm breath against your face. He looked at you through lidded eyes and sought to close the gap between you. Your mind was a flurry of thoughts and emotions, muddled by the unexpected events. For all of Giorno’s shortcomings, he had never touched you so boldly until then. And you had never let him. There you stood, frozen like a statue, allowing him to do as he pleased. 

His lips met yours. 

It didn’t register at first. Everything had happened so fast, that your mind struggled to keep up. Giorno’s kiss was chaste, a method to test the waters. To test you. He tasted of the Tartufo di Pizzo he ate earlier, rich and saccharine. When was the last time you were this close to another? That you felt a human’s loving touch, basked in the warmth of their body? You can’t remember for sure. It must’ve been a long time ago, a time before Giorno Giovanna. The moment ended as soon as it arrived. At your lack of reciprocation, he went to pull back. God, it would’ve been so simple if that’s how it ended. If that served as the final chapter. All you had wanted was to feel human again, not like a glorified prisoner in gold bars. That’s the only plausible reason, right? The meager distance between you two was closed again, though it was your lips that met his. Giorno let out a noise of shock, an emotion you were never able to draw out of him until then. 

Where he had been soft, you were unrelenting. You kissed him with primal urgency and wove your hands into the strands of his golden hair to pull him close. Giorno was more than pleased to let you do so. The initial stupor wore off, and he matched your fervor with equal tenacity. You’re not sure what exactly was on your mind then. You didn’t know why you did what you did, other than to distract yourself for a moment. How gratifying it had felt then. Giorno held your face in one hand, while the other traveled down to your waist. That eager touch served to pull you back into reality. Almost as if the clock had struck midnight, the spell was broken, and you were left with the undignified truth.

You realized what you were doing. Who it was you had just been kissing, and you staggered back. Eyes wide as a doe, unsure of who the blame was to be placed upon. Giorno had to choose to loosen his grip on you, and you felt every ounce of his hesitance. Those all-knowing, omniscient eyes opened, clearly perplexed. His eyebrows furrowed and lips parted to speak. Before he had the chance to question you, you scampered back into the house. Giorno stood there and watched you depart. His soul stirred. It could’ve been your imagination, but you swore you saw a flash of gold behind you. 

Which leads to now. 

Seasons change, as do feelings. A fickle thing emotions are. They take the form of liquid, reshaping, and redistributing themselves according to their environment. Never did you envision your loathing transforming into… no, you won’t say it. You can’t. Plans for the rest of the day are up in the air. Maybe it’d do you some good to get rest. Holding this thought in mind, you will yourself to get up, legs unsteady. You make your way out of the master bathroom that connects to your private suite, a luxury that Giorno bestowed. Each step feels heavier than the last. A King-sized bed awaits, silk linens dipping underneath your weight. Sleeping forever sounds lovely right about now. How can you ever face him again? What does he think of you now? Worst of all, why do you care? Throwing yourself onto the bed, you shut your eyes, willing your mind to go elsewhere. Anywhere but that disaster earlier. The chance to do so never comes, much to your chagrin.

There’s a knock on the door. 

You freeze, assuming the worst. Heart pounding violently, you search for an explanation, that might explain the person at your door. Maybe it’s the mouse-like staff that tends to Giorno’s estate in the shadows. Rarely do they interact with you, likely at his behest, though it isn’t impossible he’d send them to check up on you. That hope melts when a deep, composed voice speaks up, a voice that you know too well. 

“[First]? Are you decent?” Giorno probes, his voice muffled by the closed door. You glance down at your outfit, knowing he’ll have a fair share of questions at your current state. It’d be easier to avoid the confrontation entirely. Easier, but not plausible, you bitterly think. Lord knows he has eyes everywhere. Lying to get around this might serve as a point of contention in the future. So you sigh, swallowing down the lump in your throat. Straightening your shoulders, you place your hands on your lap, hoping to appear somewhat collected.

“Yes, I am.” You confirm after a moment's deliberation. His response is immediate.

“Can I come in?” What an amusing question. Giorno could do whatever he pleases, having the locks to every room in this estate on his person. It’s you who is subject to his every will and whim, you who doesn’t have a true choice in the matter. A thin veil of courtesy hides the viper who waits to strike at your heel. Might as well get this over with, you decide. It’s either now or later.

 “You can.”

Giorno opens the door at your confirmation, and you hear the keys jingling like funeral tolls. He’s well put together to the point of frustration, hair set in place perfectly, suit without a wrinkle. You sometimes wonder if Giorno Giovanna is even human and not a deity. Unfortunately, you’ve yet to conclude and are leaning towards the latter. As you expected, his eyes temporarily wander to your soaked appearance, lips pulling into a tight frown. It takes a moment to realize how he might interpret this look. Not to say the thought has never crossed your mind, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I… I, uh, wasn’t trying to drown myself,” you stutter out with an unconvincing smile. He looks to the ajar bathroom door, and back to you with a raised eyebrow. You clear your throat. “You can check yourself. I was freshening up in the sink.” 

“I’ll take your word for it.” Giorno exhales, adjusting the cuff of his suit. He looks around your sparsely decorated room. Any onlooker might wonder if someone lives here at all. The room is immaculate, no clothes were strewn about, not an item out of it’s assigned place. You realize it’s been a long time since Giorno’s been in your room. Months, even. When you were first brought here, he’d explained to a distraught you what was happening. Speaking about protection, your well-being, how he could take such excellent care of you. At the time the grave words didn’t sink in. You had no idea what turbulent future awaited you then. Is Giorno thinking the same thing? If he is, he doesn’t mention it, returning his focus to you. 

“About earlier,” he pauses when you wince. Giorno gives you a second to gather yourself before continuing. “I wanted to apologize. It was inappropriate of me to assume your feelings.” 

Assume your feelings? What does he mean by that? The confession stuck out like a sore thumb. You uncross and cross your legs on the other side, unable to sit still. Sure, you’ve grown to be passive in his presence. Even you can acknowledge this. That’s all it is, passivity, not… acceptance. Or worse, reciprocation. Months of combative behavior taught you how exhausting hatred is. Giorno proved that no speech, act, or plead of yours would sway him. You’d have better luck convincing a brick wall. This wording troubles you greatly, and Giorno picks up on it.

He continues. “I misinterpreted your body language and acted without thinking. I saw what I wanted to see.” 

Giorno doesn’t make mistakes like that. He’s many things: your kidnapper and sole provider, a merciless Don to those who stand in his way, and a man borderline capable of reading the thoughts of others. You can’t picture a world where Giorno slips up in reading other’s moods. What point would there be in lying to you about this? He saw what he wanted to see, this line repeats in your mind like a mantra. There was an undeniable reason for its inclusion. To make you feel better. An out, a silver lining to keep everything as it was. Giorno didn’t make an error in his judgment, you realize, face paling. I… I do love... 

“That’s all I came here to say,” Giorno informs, observing how your face twists from your thoughts. He knows it’s due to him. “I’m sorry for disturbing your evening.” 

It feels like arctic water is crashing down on you, frigid and fraying your nerves. Giorno pivots on his heel and turns to leave. You know you should let him. Taking this outstretched hand would be simpler, likely even better for your sake. It’s painful how your stomach churns, how every breath is more difficult than the last. This anguish is a deeply rooted one. Too personal and oppressive to withstand any longer. Let him leave, you think. Just let this be over with. 

When have you ever listened to reason?

“Giorno,” you call to him, as you did earlier, voice somehow more delicate than it was then. He turns around, face never betraying his thoughts. Giorno’s impossible to get a read on. Clenching the frame of your bed, your gaze drops to your lap. “You… you didn’t misinterpret anything.” 

Blood rushes to your cheeks, and you bite your lower lip. “What I mean to say is… it’s fine.” 

You gather enough fragments of confidence to raise your head. Turquoise eyes, rich and expansive as the Tyrrhenian sea, pierce through with an intensity Giorno’s never used on you. Your mind goes blank, and you forget how to properly breathe. He breaks the stun-lock first. It’s rare that you ever see a genuine smile on Giorno’s face, but there’s no denying this one is. He’s quick to cover his mouth with the back of his hand. You feel an odd sense of loss at this.

“I’m glad to hear it.” With that, he retires for the evening, bidding you a final goodnight. Giorno closes the door silently to not disturb you. As per the routine, you hear locks going into place, one after the other. You lose count. Footsteps echo down the hallway, signaling his departure. You’re doubtful Giorno himself is going to sleep, he’s a willing victim to late nights, and can only assume he wanted to offer you time to think.

So you are left here on your lonesome. 

Not quite in heaven, and not quite in hell. 

[blue-bird-kny]

How You Spend Days Off

I stuck to only the three main peeps, but I’m looking forward to writing for more JJK characters. It was actually really nice to write for them, so I hope you enjoy~Amanda

P.S: Be safe out after dark!

Warning: N/A

( 2.1K+ words)

   ↳{shenanigans you and your S/O get up to on days off}

Yuji:

Days off with Yuji are unpredictable and always either involve something thrilling and very energy consuming or it can be some of the simplest things a person can do- no in between.

Yuji usually is the one who makes plans during your spare time (though he always gets your opinion, of course), he just really values time with you and wants to experience so much together while he can

It was common knowledge that this coming Friday, all the students would have the time off to rest as a reward for all their hard work with the recent influx of curse activity. Yuji wasted no time in planning the perfect day together, from the moment you woke up next to him to when you both fell asleep, he had something ready.                               

“Ah that was delicious Yuji, thank you” you cheered, arms stretched high above your head in an attempt to work away the sleepiness the food had made you feel. “No problem! Only the best for you, princess” Yuji’s smile reached past his shining eyes, thrilled you enjoyed the assortment of plates and bowls filled with your breakfast favorites he’d surprised you with. “Well then, my prince, to what honor do I owe your company today?” you asked leaning against your balled fist and bent elbow on the table, amusement and adoration laced on all your features. “For one day only, yours truly scored us tickets to…! Drum roll please!” Yuji posed dramatically, eyes cast down while crouched and pointing in a funny manner.

You proceeded to bang your fist against the table, laughing lightly, “We’re going to spend all day at Monster Con!” he pulled out two floppy pieces of paper from his back pocket as you gasped, “Oh I’m not finished yet, princess, we’ll also be wearing matching costumes I hand selected” You stood quickly, clapping at his theatrical performance as he bowed, repeating, “Thank you, thank you”. You made your way to infront of the boy, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders while he enveloped your waist tightly, pressing you against him. “Not going dressed as your pesky alter ego, huh?” you joked staring up at the taller kid, earning you a slight pout, “No, he’s not invited” he grumbled. “Sorry, that joke was in poor taste” you apologized, shifting to run your thumb along his juted bottom lip to smooth out the lines.

“No worries, I know ya didn’t mean anything by it” your hand stayed cupping his cheek, both star-filled eyes trained on each other as you both wore the cheesiest grins. Just as you stood on your tip-toes to close the space between each other, a warm gust of breath blew against the palm holding Yuji still, “I was wondering why you hadn’t spoiled the moment” you sighed, lowering yourself to lean your forehead against Yuji’s chest instead. A small mouth carved into its host cheek frowned, now free to speak without your hand suffocating it, “I can handle the women’s teasing, however what have I done in my many lifetimes to have to suffer through this painful love-sick puppies act” Sukuna complained. “Many things actually” you responded, muffled by Yuji’s shirt that smelled of a citrusy-warm blend you couldn’t get enough of. “Why do you always kill the mood?” Yuji  groaned up towards the ceiling, earning himself a scoff from the demon king. “Oh? You mean like that I wouldn’t let y-” “SHUT UP!” Yuji slammed his hand against his own face to silence the man, his cheeks inflamed.

Now clad in matching costumes, you as frankenstein's wife and Yuji as Frankenstein, from the hair to the clothes to the make-up, you both spent the day without any further hiccups; how Yuji kept Sukuna at bay, you didn’t know, but I didn’t really matter. The stares from passengers on the train to the convention center was obvious to everyone but you two, lost in your own little love-sick world of old-fashion horror movies, delicious food, and pure, unfiltered content.

Megumi:

Megumi is a simple guy who likes simple things; he’s overworked and more exhausted than he even realizes, however he doesn’t acknowledge that...ever. In fact, you could run a mile ‘too quickly’ by his standards and he will have you take a break and drink his bottle of water (though you had your own and he knew that).

On your rare days off together, Megumi would silently stick to you like glue; he wants to do something for you in the creative way Yuji does and definitely wants to spend the time with you, but he can never come up with a complete idea of how to ‘wow’ you.

Except you didn’t need to be wowed, in fact you really were burnt out, so when the day came when you had  nothing to do but be together, you planned a whole day of nothing with a side of Netflix and take-out.

You knocked on the door to Megumi’s dorm that was just a few paces away from your own. It was almost noon and you still wore your pj’s from last night, cookie monster shorts and an old shirt of Megumi’s you took last week, having made no attempt to fix your hair. “Umi~!” you whined, banging on the door a little harder, the plastic bag from the convenience store rustling at your side. “Coming” Megumi opened the door in a similar state; pj’s still on and hair sticking in even weirder directions than normal.

“Mornin” you greeted with the faintest grin, “sorry to wake you” “ I was just getting up” he yawned while he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Sure I can tell by the bed head” you teased, earning a playful eye roll from the boy. You waved the bag of goodies in front of his face, “Let me in, I’ll make it worth your while~” he chuckled, “I doubt it” despite his words he stood to the side, letting you past and closing the door behind you.

His dorm was dark and a little stuffy, clearly Megumi hadn’t had time to do the in depth cleaning the little neat-freak was so fond of. The continents of the bag clacked together and scattered around as you tossed it onto the small table in the corner, making your way over to his comfortable futon that smelled of his signature eucalyptus soaps. You flopped about for a moment, stretching, snuggling into the sheets still warm from Megumi, who was watching the small scene from the door, “C’mon Umi’ I wanna get through at least two episodes of SVU before we inevitably fall asleep wrapped in each others arms” you called dreamily with lidded eyes, already tired again as you buried beneath his sheets and pillows.

Megumi could feel his chest ache and stomach flutter at the image of the one who he cared for so much that it physically hurt laying there in his bed with soft, kind eyes just for him- it was almost too much. “Umi, I will eat all the sour snakes if you don’t come over here, your sheets are getting cold” Megumi was cut off by his own thoughts of admiration by your voice. He chuckled at the cute way your face cringed a bit at the sour-sweet taste of the candy before sliding into bed too, your head laying on his chest as he held you close. A small, genuine grin spread across his lips as the sound of Netflix starting rang from the TV, holding you even tighter, ‘this is perfect’

Nobara

Be ready to put on your best dressed because you and your girlfriend are hitting the town! Of course Nobara would find her way into the city whenever she could, foreign to the endless wonders the busy streets had to offer and luckily for her, you happened to be far more native with the many sights to see.

She’d let you sleep in, holding you tender as she traced her nails across your skin to form intricate patterns until you woke. You both would totally be the couple that wears matching outfits, the same colors and patterns tailored to your personal styles- of course this would also lead to thousands of pictures for Nobara’s instagram.  

You two would laughed, eat delicious foods, and would spend way more than either of you cared to admit nor did you want to because the price of absurd, unfiltered laughter and the feel of just a good time, was one both of you could pay a thousand times (and a new pair of shoes too)

The sun hung lower in the sky than it did when you started this little adventure before noon, having been sold on the idea by Nobara that she “only needed a few things” this morning. Now, exhausted perched on a steel chair outside some cafe you’d never heard of with your sore feet elevated on the other empty one you waited for your girlfriend who was inside somewhere.

“Jeez even my fingers are cramped” you groaned flexing your numb digits; shopping was a grueling vice because no matter how much you’ve already bought, more cute sweaters, tops, and matching accessories called to you by name and the art of saying ‘no’ wasn’t exactly in Ms.Kugisaki’s vocabulary. “Here ya’ go babe” Nobara emerged from the shop with two cups, handing one to you before sipping gingerly from her own. You brought the plastic straw to your lips, sighing in relief as the contents quelled a thirst you didn’t even know had been building up. “I don’t think we did too much damage” your face fell and eyes bulged, flailing your arms out around at the brightly colored parcels that littered the table and surrounding floor, “Nobara there are at least fifteen bags here”

She laughed, her hand falling on top of your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze, “Still no that bad”. She scooched her chair closer to yours, her thumb rubbing nonsense circles into the denim of your jeans, “What next?” she asked leaning into her seat, her brown irises watching yours fondly, “Food? We haven’t eaten since a lot earlier and I could turn into a wolf any second and eat you” you teased, though food sounded better and better the more you thought about it. “Eat me? You promise, baby?” Nobara’s smirk earned herself a not-so-graceful, but light kick from you.

“An impromptu picnic sounds great” Nobara decided, tapping against you in finality. It became a game: You both had 30 minutes to run around the delicious food district to pick out each other's favorites, as many as you liked (which would be more food than two can eat), then you’d reconvene at the same cafe. Nobara offered to pick up a blanket at the convenience store because she ‘knew you so well she wouldn’t need the whole half hour.’ The game was on and time was ticking as you both rushed in opposite directions with several bags and a hunger to please the other.

You scurred around each vendor, selecting different meat dishes and veggies, cakes and watermelon, and even splurged on some fancy sushi from the place she'd wanted to try. Your arms quivered under the weight of the many shopping bags and take-out boxes, but you were determined to get back first. “Just around the corner- Are you kidding me?!” you yelled. In the exact steel seat she sat in earlier, was Nobara with an array of bags around her, boxes and the blanket stacked neatly on the table with dark sunglasses adorning her face and her legs crossed cockily as she spoke smoothly, “Beat ya”

Both of you grossly overestimated the amount of food you could eat in one sitting as practically unopened boxes lay stacked on top one another on the blankets while watermelon rinds and used plates were thrown into a garbage bag. The sun was low, almost at the horizon, painting the sky in pastel oranges and pinks with hints of purple and blue; the spring chill had blown a little heavier now that the sun was setting and it was getting harder to stop the shivers. Nobara laid against the trunk of a tree with you between her legs, holding you as her manicured fingers idly massaged your scalp quietly- you would have fallen asleep at the small gesture had you not been actively keeping your eyes open. “The boys will be grateful for the food, I’d hate wasting it” she yawned to which you only hummed.

“Hey” you turned your head up slightly, only enough to meet her gaze, “today was really fun” she smiled, slithering across your arm to grab your cheeks gently in her fingers, forcing your lips to pucker, “yeah it was.” Your wobbly smile made Nobara feel things, too many things at once, and a lump began to form in her throat, “I love you” you mumbled, Nobara’s breath caught for only a moment, whispering a thick “me too.”

Masterlist 

[changkyunswifey]

slumber party l lee hoseok (wonho)

 wc: ~1,1k

request: hi there!! i do love your works and i think your writing is absolutely amazing!! and, i have a request! could you please write a wonho scenario that his s/o is a lonely person, and don’t have friends to do a pj party, so, he does one with them, and lets the s/o paint his nails and do some makeup on him, or skincare, as they eat some pizza and play something/watch a movie, as it normally happens in some pj partys? sorry if it’s too messy

genre: it’s a bit sad at first (mention of loneliness) but then it’s full on fluff, fluff and fluff

pairing: wonho x gn!reader

contains: wonho being your absolute best friend ever

a/n: hi love !! So first of all thank you so much for your kind words as well as your request <3 i hope i got everything you wanted, the whole thing really spoke to me and i hope i got the essence of what i wanted to show even if it is kinda messy haha, enjoy!

As you were walking back home from work you thought back to a few days ago when you were watching some random movie with your boyfriend Wonho, cuddling up on your couch, when a scene during which the main lead was having a pyjama party with her co-workers after office hours and the sad expression that made its way on your lovely face didn’t go unnoticed by your lover.

This yet simple scene just reminded you how you would eat your lunch alone everyday while hearing your co-workers laughing and having a good time altogether before seeing them leave together to get some drinks after work a few hours later.

Dragging your feet to your front door, your fished for your keys in your bag before entering your apartment and taking off your shoes and hanging your coat by the door. You absentmindedly made your way to your couch, hoping to simply fall on it and sleep the day away but your were not only met by the sight of your usually dark living room but by a room lighted by small led candles and the faint brightness of the Netflix home screen, the sugary smell of your favorite snacks directing your eyes toward the coffee table which became barely visible because of all the snacks and self-care product that were scattered all over it.

And last but not least, there was your ever so considerate boyfriend, jumping off the comfy couch that was now covered in fluffy blanket and silky-like pillows.

“Baby !! You’re home !” he exclaimed joyfully, pulling you into his signature tight and warm hug, the affectionate act drawing a smile on your exhausted face, tears prickling your tired eyes.

As he pulled away to kiss your lips, he stopped midway to kiss your tears away, earning a giggle from you and himself before kissing you softly.

Right before you could ask him what all of this was about, he beat you to it and clapped his hands : “Come on, let’s have that pyjama party !”

After about forty minutes of browsing through the endless Netflix catalogue, you two finally settled on some classic rom-com drama to lighten the mood and to try not to overthink the whole thing too much. 

Ever the gentleman, Wonho took it upon himself to take off your makeup for you, carefully swiping the wet makeup wipe across your face, making sure not to forget anything, patting everything little corner of your face, you felt yourself relaxing under is touches, slowly forgetting about your lonesome boring day.

“All clean !” Wonho joyfully said as he softly bopped the tip of your nose, making you let out an airy laugh. You finally opened your eyes to be met by the smiley face of your boyfriend, his gaze on you was full of pure adoration and the overwhelming feeling of love floating in the air all around you was more than enough to make you smile in return. Wonho turned toward the small coffee table in front of you and took a handful of different sheet masks before putting them in a fan-like shape in front of your face : “Choose your fighter” he said jokingly, you laughed at his antics and then eyed the multiple masks he was holding. As appealing as the animal shaped masks seemed, you knew you would end up looking the most ridiculous you’ve ever had, it could be funny, that is for sure, but tonight you did not need a weird looking face mask to have the laugh of your life so you opted for a plain pinkish strawberry scented face mask as Wonho picked a similar one so “you could match.”

“Do you want anything to eat or even something to drink ?” he kindly asked, drawing your gaze away from him to the trail full of snacks and drinks.

“A slice of pizza could be nice. Have you -” “I made it myself !” he cut you proudly before taking a slice between his fingers and waiting for you to open your mouth “Say “aaaah” babe” he said while chuckling before feeding you and waiting for your reaction with wide eyes.

“I..” you started hesitantly, worry bubbling within your boyfriend sitting anxiously in front of you, “You’re going to have to drop your secret because this is simply delicious !” you declared only to see the brightest smile making its way on your boyfriend’s lips, “Next time, let’s bake some together, alright ?” he softly offered, you nodded and grabbed the small basket of nail polish that was laying next to the pile of face mask, you then proposed your lover something new, “Would you be okay with me doing your nails ?” you asked cautiously, not knowing if he would turn your proposition down or not as you saw him having an internal debate with himself. “It’s not that I don’t want to but”, he paused, “I want to take care of YOU, not the other way around..” he softly admitted, the reason of his hesitation making your heart burst in your chest.

“You could always try to do mine afterwards, right ?”, you proposed, “Deal.” was his reply before you two started picking the colors you liked and different stamps you could use to make it all just a bit more extra.

After a good hour or so, the movie was almost coming to an end as you both admired the handy work you performed on each other, the pastel colors of your nails matching the other’s, it was overly cute.

The table was nearly empty compared to how full it was when you first came in, you were left with nothing much do to, adding to the fact you were getting sleepy, it was fine by you. Noticing your eyes squinting to focus on the TV screen and the way you would yawn every five minutes, Wonho quickly got up to discard of all the mess that was on the table only to come back with even more pillows and blankets, leaving you wondering if all of it would even fit on the small couch.

“Come on, let’s lay down.” he whispered next to you as he placed the covers nicely on the back of the couch to make it fluffier and a tad comfier.

You were laying between his legs, your back pressed against his chest, you could feel his hot breath fanning on the side of your face, the faint sound of his heartbeat reaching your ears as the movie’s credit rolled on the screen, he kissed the top of your head, feeling you drift to sleep with a slight smile on your pretty lips, he whispered in your ear, even if more to himself, a loving “I love you.”

[romyr4]

The swing

Rating: Not under 18 

Warning: FUCKING CHEMISTRY and SMUT

A/n: Another one guys. These two inspire me more than anything right now. So Frances is just chilling in the swing at the end of episode 6 before Carmel comes to her. What if Carmel doesn't come, but someone else...

Frances is sitting on the swing as she lightly sways back and forth. The soft nature sounds make her mind wander to what happened today. The dream she had about Paul Drabble, the terrible kiss between her and Tony, and his confession towards her. She smiles and can’t help but think about that kiss over and over again.

Her fingertips trace her bottom lip as if she still can feel his beard on her delicate skin. The swaying makes her close her eyes as she focuses on the memory.

His breathing accelerated as they part their lips. His brown eyes watching every move she makes. Her fingers brushing through his beard as she bites her lip slightly. The feeling of desire rushing through her veins while she tries to think how it would feel if the kiss wasn’t terrible. His body is on her when they fall over. She can feel his hard shaft poking her thigh as he tries to brace himself with his hands on the ground.

“Fuck.” She murmurs as she can feel her excitement grow again. Her mind going back to the question: How would sex be with him? Her lady parts spring alive as she thinks about his big hands doing unspeakable things to her. His tongue licking every part of her hot skin.

“Here you are.” Her eyes shoot open and she looks at Tony. He is smiling and he is wearing his signature sweatpants and a faded t-shirt. He isn’t wearing his hat and she wants to stroke his head with her hands. She stops swinging and he sits beside her.

“Hi.” She says softly while trying not to look at his face. She is still on a high only from the thought of him being inside her. He pushes his feet off the ground so they are swinging again. He looks her over once… okay maybe twice or more. He has been thinking about her lips and hands all day long.

She shifts as she tries to get the pain in her back to subside. The fall they had together is now getting to her back and the pain is excruciating. “Are you okay?” His voice startles her and she looks at him. His worried face makes her want to cuddle him. She scoots a little closer to him and puts her hand on his knee.

“I am fine, my back is just killing me. I guess the drugs have lost their effects on that.” She blushes as his large hand goes to her back and rubs it gently. His gaze is oozing sex and she needs to look away or she will jump him.

“Can I do anything about it?” He wants to make her feel better like she makes him feel better. Her presence is enough for him to be more relaxed and love life more. He doesn’t have the dark thoughts anymore and he will be forever grateful to her for that.

“Can you massage it gently?” She asks shyly, trying hard not to think about what more he can do with those massive hands of his. She swallows audibly and he watches her every move.

“Sure.” He says and moves behind her on the swing. The huge thing is big enough for the whole group to sit on, but here they are just the two of them. His long legs slide beside either side of her and she can’t do anything but chuckle. He is so much taller than she is. “What are you laughing about?”

She laughs harder and her shoulders shake violently. “How does it come you are so tall and I am this little leprechaun.” She is still chuckling when he settles fully against her backside and she gasps at what is happening between his legs.

“Your fun-size Frances.” He whispers against her neck as his hands go to her lower back. His breath makes her mind foggy and she holds onto the swing with both hands. He feels her body relax instantly and he tries to slow down his own body from reacting to her soft curves.

“Fun-size huh?” She says with a sultry voice as her head slowly falls back on his chest as his thumbs dig into her sore back. She moans lightly and she can feel his body react to it so she does it again just to spite him.

He clears his throat and shifts a little so he is no longer poking her with his well-endowed stick. “Yeah, you know like snickers.” He says while digging hard into her lower back and she arches her back while she loses her balance. He wraps one of his arms around her and she falls back against him. “Careful there.”

Suddenly out of breath she is having a sense of being secured by this man. His large chest pressing against her back and his large hand balancing her on her stomach. She exhales audibly while she closes her eyes. She can smell his scent and it is pure man. Her head is now half in his neck and she has the urge to lick it, desperately.

“Are you comparing me to candy, really?” She can hear him chuckle and the vibration goes through her. She smiles as her eyes are still closed and his hand leaves her stomach to go back to her back to massage her some more. He is really good at this.

“Well, you are very delicious.” His mouth is dry as he can see her face and her eyes are closed. Her breath is ragged and he loses it a little when she licks her lips. His manhood is growing inside of his pants and his hands want to do far more than just massaging her.

“Do I now?” She knows she is challenging him and she wants to know what he will do if she drives him totally crazy. Her mind wanders off to a hot place and she gasps while opening her eyes. She can see that he is looking at her intently with a wicked smile on his lips. Hmm… those lips.

He smiles when her eyes look into his and he knows what she is doing. I can play that game too. “I can only answer that honestly when I have tasted every last inch of your body.” That does it as she shifts in between his legs and rubs her voluptuous ass against his hard-on. He groans and she smiles.

His hand creeps up around her waist and she slowly turns around to face him. She is now in between his legs on her knees and she can see he is loving her on her knees. She puts one hand on either side of his hips and he swallows hard. She crawls towards him until her face is close to his. “Why don’t you try?” She raises an eyebrow and he loses it.

He crashes his lips on hers as his hands slide up her legs. He pushes against her ass when his hands arrive there so she can straddle him. Her hands are in his hair and she moans against his lips. His tongue forces entrance into her mouth and meet hers in a battle for dominance.

She pushes against his chest and they break the kiss as he lies back down while she sits up fully. She traces her index finger on his chest until it finds the hem of his shirt and pushes it up. He gets his back off the swing and she pulls his shirt off. She watches his broad chest and scratches it lightly with her fingernails. Her eyes darken as her hands follow his stomach and go further south.

He grabs her wrists and shakes his head. “I want to taste you first.” He says and she bites her lip. He guides her face to his again in a searing kiss. When he deepens it he can feel her hips bucking against his erection. He pulls at her dress until it is around her waist. He discovers her soft bare legs and he slides his hands up and onto her ass. He squeezes lightly and he can hear her moan.

She breaks the kiss to look down at him again. He smiles wickedly at her as he spanks her and she gasps. “Move over my face baby.” He whispers, but it sounds like he is in her ear. Her cheeks color a bright red as her knees go over his shoulders and he places both his hands on her waist. She doesn’t lower her body onto him and one of his hands goes to her panties. He moves them aside and stretches his neck so he can finally taste her.

Her breath catches in her throat when his tongue makes contact with her already sensitive hole. He latches his lips on her bundle of nerves and sucks hard. She screams in ecstasy and lowers her body on his face. Her hands weave into his hair and tug on it to get more friction.

His tongue slides back and forth multiple times as her hips rock on his tongue. He slides his tongue inside of her and he feels her walls clench him. His hands go to her butt and he slaps her hard. She braces herself against the back of the swing as she feels the sting on her ass mixed with the pleasure that his tongue is giving her.

“Please Tony.” She begs as she fucks his face. He slaps her again, again and again. The sting making her more aroused. She can feel her excitement building in the lower part of her belly and she knows she is close.

He can feel her walls tighten and he knows she is going to explode any second. He pulls his tongue out of her and he smiles when she whines. He puts his lips around her nub again and sucks hard. She grinds against his face and he bites lightly on her swollen bean and she falls over the edge.

She screams his name as he licks her clean from her orgasm. She spasms against his tongue and he has to keep her steady. Her breath is stocking as she comes down from her high. She looks down at him and moves back over his body. She kisses him sweetly and she can taste herself on his tongue, making her turned on all over again.

When her legs are back beside his waist she breaks the kiss and looks at him. “My turn.” She smirks and he laughs at her as she pulls his pants down and frees his aching member. She licks her lips when she looks at his big shaft. Will that fit?

She descents her head and slowly envelops her lips around his cock. She swirls her tongue around his head and he can no longer look at her as he lets himself fall back on the swing. One of his hands goes into her hair as her head bobs up and down. “Fuck.” He whispers as she goes lower, taking him fully inside her wet mouth.

He can feel her gag a little and he can’t do anything but smile about the size of his sex. Her hand plays with his balls while the other hand strokes him up and down as her tongue moves around his dick. With a pop, he is out of her mouth and he looks up at her. Her hair is disheveled and she has a devilish smile on her face.

Her head lowers once again and she licks the underside of his member from the base to his leaking tip. His hips buck up involuntarily and she smiles again. She comes down again and takes him into her mouth, licking off the pre-cum of the tip. She takes him into her mouth and sucks hard, making him groan loudly as he falls back again.

He tries not to move his hips, scared to make her gag. He is close to his release and when she hums while having him in her mouth he loses it. He pulls lightly at her hair, trying to get her to understand he is coming. When she goes even deeper and hums again he can’t take it anymore.

He comes hard inside her throat and she milks him for everything he has got to offer. She swallows and licks him clean. He is breathing heavily and can’t feel his legs anymore. She takes him out of her mouth and straddles him again. “Give me a moment.” He says breathily and she giggles.

She kisses him sweetly and rubs her wet pussy over his soft dick. He gasps and she pushes her tongue into his mouth. The movement she is making causes him to slowly get hard again. She breaks the kiss and goes to his ear with her lips. “Round two?” She whispers and he rams his hips upwards and his manhood presses against her sweet spot, making her moan.

“Fuck yeah.” He says as she guides him into her. She stills instantly and so does he. He can see that he is big for her and he is stretching her painfully. She breathes heavily as she starts to move slowly. Her hands are on his chest and his hands are on her ass.

He lets her take him in any way she likes. She lowers herself onto him and they kiss. It’s sloppy and sweet. Her ass jiggles every time she comes down on his pole. He squeezes her cheeks as she accelerates her movements. They look into each other's eyes. “Please.” She says and he stills her motion completely.

He looks at her and asks her permission with his eyes and she nods shyly. He guides her so she is pressed against his chest and her ass is up. With a lot of stamina, he thrusts into her and she moans loudly. It eggs him on and he goes faster. Moving in and out of her as he plunges into her.

Her walls tighten around him and he is as close as she is to the sweet release they are both chasing. He drives in and out of her like a madman and she peaks as she convulses around his dick and he can’t hold back any longer. His movements become erratic and he climaxes as well, emptying himself into her. They are both breathing heavily as she collapses on him.

After a minute he envelops her in his arms as he slowly moves out of her. She is now with her head on his chest and one of her legs over his. Her breathing slows down and after another minute he knows she is asleep. He grabs a blanket and covers them both.

“Goodnight, buddy.” He smiles as he whispers into her hair. He closes his eyes and it doesn’t take long before he falls asleep as well with the most important woman in the world to him in his arms.

A/n: what do you think?

[utterlyinevitable]

can u do a hc about getting the ily from the boys? thank you! 😘

The Boys Say ILY

Bryce

Bryce had a plan. 

MC wasn’t just some girl he was seeing. MC had never been just some girl. He’d never felt this way about anyone else and he just knew this was real. He thought he was in love with his ex but now he realized it was just puppy love. 

He’s convinced MC is the one. With everything that happened between them the first time he said it had to mean something. It had to be grand and romantic and the embodiment of their relationship - effortless, hilarious, and so full of pure unadulterated adoration. 

So he hatched the most perfect plan. 

Something understated she’d never see coming.

In his apartment after a day out with MC visiting Keiki at school, the couple were getting into their PJs after having a shower.. Music played throughout the apartment over his stereo. 

MC finished her routine before Bryce and his 10-step hair care system. She was wrapped up in a blanket mindlessly scrolling through Pictagram as she waited and not paying any mind to the music overhead. 

Then Bryce comes flying out of his bedroom wearing board shorts and an unbuttoned floral shirt and singing ‘I.F.L.Y.’ by Bazzi out of key and into a hairbrush. 

He’d even had joke sunglasses on; like the neon ones in bright green in the shape of stars and lenses so black they eclipsed his gorgeous eyes. 

MC was laughing and it all made sense on why he was taking longer than normal. 

She wasn’t taking him seriously as she giggled and watched him wiggle around in front of her as he tried to dance and out sing Bazzi.  

Until Bryce purposefully drops the brush, rips the shades off and kneels in front of her. The sound of the items clacking against the wood floor louder than the music as the speakers drop to a dull line in the background

Her brows furrow in amusement. 

Bryce waits for one beat. Then another. Then another. 

She’s looking at him waiting for the catch. 

He looks her in her eyes, the signature megawatt smile on full display, and proclaims; 

“I fucking love you, MC.”  

Ethan

MC refused to say it first. She’s known she’s loved Ethan for months, but with all their problems she refused to say it or acknowledge the words. 

She knows he’s committed and has eyes for no one else but her. She knows he has issues letting people in on his feelings. She understands and doesn’t hold her breath. 

He shows her he loves her every single day. 

It’s her birthday. 

They’re at his place after a shift. 

Ethan ordered in Chinese food and promised to take her away in a few weeks time - he planned on taking her to Salem for Halloween. And it wasn’t just her... her friends would be there to surprise her. 

On the couch, where a lot of their big moments happen, he gave her a gift and a card. 

MC opened the card and looked at the generic ‘happy birthday to my girlfriend’ on the cover and opened it with a smile, not really reading the inscription but pretending to read it thoughtfully. She’s impatient and wanted to unwrap what he got her. The box was big!

She ripped through the carefully wrapped paper and swiftly unbox her present. 

It was a mint green robe and ugg slippers. 

“To keep here. So you don’t have to keep wearing my clothes,” Ethan said as she inspected them.  

MC turned to him with a smirk, “What if I like wearing your clothes?” 

“I prefer you wearing nothing. Which will be easier to do in this.” 

She smiled brightly and leaned over to kiss him. 

She turned back to the items and started taking off the tags. She didn’t say a single thing and Ethan was nervous. 

Maybe she wasn’t there yet? They’d only been officially together for a few months. To Ethan, here and now, it feels like the sentiment is coming years too late.  

AS MC was trying the items on, Ethan’s card with his confession was lost in the rubbish - peeking out under tore wrapping paper. 

He let her have her moment and started cleaning everything up. Throwing away the scrap paper and folding the box into the recycling bin. Then Ethan sat back down, taking the closed card in his hands. 

“How do I look?” she spun around in front of the wide windows still oblivious. 

All he did was give her a half-hearted smile.

MC sensed something was off now. So she skipped over, pushed his arms apart and aside, and stood between his legs. 

“Thank you,” she kissed him again. Tenderly. Lightly. Like they had all the time in the world.  

Ethan didn’t let up on his grasp of the card. 

When they broke for air MC plopped on his knee, cuddling against his chest, and took it from him. 

Staring at the super cliché front she asked rhetorically, “When’d you become such a sap?” 

He nuzzled into her and held his breath. 

She opened the white paper and read the small note that ended with the heaviest sentiment;

I love you.  Forever. Always. Evermore.  Yours,  Ethan x

She looked over at him with parted lips. Utter shock. So much love in her eyes. Finally. 

“I love you,” he whispered 

“I love you so much,” she replied just as softly. 

Rafael 

MC had a looong hectic day at the hospital. She ended up staying an extra three hours on top of her 12 hour shift. As much as she wanted to sleep she still wanted to see Raf. 

The second she stepped through the threshold of Rafael’s studio apartment he knew she needed to rest. She had bags do deep under her eyes, the color was muted from her face and her hair was a mess. 

She shut the door and found her way right into his waiting arms. 

Just his smell was enough to lull her into a sense of peace. Her body became jelly in his arms. 

“C’mon, lets go to bed,” he whispered into her hair after placing a kiss there. 

She didn’t protest. 

All MC wanted to do was sleep, even if it meant unintentionally ruining their plans for dinner.   

Rafael didn’t mind. He dragged her by the limp arms across the studio and to the bed, her eyes hooded and losing the fight. 

He pulled back the covers and she fell right in, on her side, where she belonged. He smiled at how cute she looked before tucking her in and walking around to climb in behind her. 

He wrapped himself around her and she melted into their embrace; his muscular arm the best pillow, his heat on her back relaxing her muscles, and his other arm wrapped around her waist keeping her safe.

MC was on the brink of sleep when she felt his lips above the shell of her ear.  

"I love you” 

It was soft and laden and if she could muster an ounce of strength she’d roll over and tell him it’s always been him. 

She’d say it back first thing in the morning.   

________________________________________

Masterlist

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Bryce:

@eleanorbloom @weaving-in-words

[forever-rogue]

Velvet & Honey - Part 2

Summary: Ruthless CEO Max Lord is about to meet his biggest match yet in another CEO such as cunning and biting as he can be.

A/N: Thank you guys for all of your support on the first part! I’m really glad you guys liked it ;) If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know, and as always, feedback and comments are always welcome! xx

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: language; smut

PART 1 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | PART 9 | PART 10

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Please,” the young girl whimpered out as Max thrust ruthlessly into her, over and over again at a relenting pace. The only sounds in the room where the sounds of his grunts through gritted teeth and the slap of skin on skin, “Mr. Lord-”

“Shut up,” he growled at her, managed to choke the words as he shoved her face down harder on the desk as he took her over it. Normally hearing someone whimper under him would only serve to turn him on more, but today it was just annoying. When he was getting close, he slowed down before completely pulling out of her and reached for a golden bullet lipstick sitting at the edge of the desk. It was a miracle that it hadn’t fallen over and toppled off. Grabbing it in his haste, he shoved it at the young girl, a new employee, “put this on.”

She wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes before taking the lipstick and uncapping it. She was scared, but even she knew better already than to question him. She was his flavor of the week; the girl he’d use for a few days to get his frustrations out before forgetting about her completely. Glancing into the mirror behind Max, she applied it as best as she could, painting her lips in the same shade of ruby red that you favored. Max had made sure it was the exact same one. 

Once he was satisfied with her handiwork, he grabbed the lipstick and set it down before motioning for her to get on her knees. She reluctantly did so, her nervous gaze never leaving his. He had picked her for a specific reason, although that was unbeknownst to her; she resembled you, at least as much as anyone in his office did. She wasn’t an exact replica, but close enough, close enough to where he could imagine it was you, if he wasn’t paying too much attention. Although if he was being honest with himself, her mouth wasn’t as smart as yours, her ass not as perky, tits not as perfect, but she would do. Until he could get his hands on you anyway. 

“Open,” he commanded and she slowly opened her mouth, bracing herself for what was to come, she knew it would be rough. Max was a lot of things, an arrogant prick and asshole, but at least he had made sure she was willing to do this, to be used by him for his own pleasure how he wanted. She did as she was told and he quickly shoved his cock into her mouth, groaning at the feeling of her warmth around him. Grabbing her hair into ponytail, he began to thrust into her mouth, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he watched the red lipstick smear all over her face and his cock. It was even better than he had envisioned. Only it wasn’t perfect because it wasn’t you. 

His thrusts quickly grew more erratic and he murmured a slew of quiet curses before stopping and pulling out of her mouth. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she opened wide, and he stroked his cock a few times before cumming, letting it go all over face and into her mouth. She remained silent as she let him finish; once he was done he tossed her a handkerchief to clean herself up with. He was done with her, he’d gotten exactly what he needed. 

“Make yourself presentable and get out,” his voice was cold as ice as he sat back down at his desk, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the dark wood. Spying the lipstick, he grabbed it and shoved it back into the top drawer of his desk, saving it for the next time, the next girl. 

Once she left, he slammed his fist on the table and chastised himself. He’d barely seen you in person, only spoke to you a few times on the phone, and yet you had such a hold over him. He’d never experienced this type of want, this type of hunger, this pure unadulterated lust before, and it was driving him insane.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Good morning, Miss L/N,” your assistant Adina, created you with a warm smile as you walked into your office. You liked her, she’d been working along side you for a long time now, and was one of the few people who didn’t just kiss up to you for their personal gain. Shaking your head at her, you set a cup of coffee down for her, prepared just how she liked it.

“Adina, it’s Y/N, just Y/N,” you reminded her with a warm smile. She gratefully took the cup of coffee and took a long sip as she gave you a nod, “anything exciting happen this morning?”

“I’m afraid not,” she glanced over notes and shook her head, “there was a delivery for you, though. I put it in your office.”

“Delivery? From who?” you quirked an eyebrow out of curiosity. You hadn’t ordered anything, and you certainly weren’t expecting anything from anyone. Adina shrugged her shoulders at you and gave you a sorry smile.

“I don’t,” she answered, “it was on my desk when I got here and it had your name on it. Nothing to suggest where it was from. Do you want me to have it taken away?”

“No,” while there were plenty of people that would want to bring you down, you highly doubted that anyone would resort to doing something so bold to harm you, “at least not yet. I’ll take a look.”

Stepping into your office, you spied the big box on your desk, noting that it was a matte black, topped off with a bow and everything. A gift. There should be no reason for you getting anything, and you certainly had done anything to warrant it, but you were curious. Setting your purse and briefcase down in the chair facing your desk, you ran a hand over the smooth material of the box. It looked and felt expensive.

You slipped into the chair behind your desk and undid the bow, taking a moment to admire the pretty lace before tossing it to the side and lifting the lid off the box. Feeling several things inside, you grabbed the smaller items and took them out studying them intently. 

The first was a golden bullet, clearly a lipstick from the same brand that you always purchased. Running your fingers over the ornate design, you popped off the cap to examine the color. You were a creature of habit, you generally always wore the ruby red lipstick that had become your signature. The bold color always made you feel more confident, powerful even. But this was different; still a red, but a dark, almost oxblood shade. Beautiful, but not what you would consider reaching for. 

The next item was a small box, which you quickly unwrapped, finding yourself holding a delicate glass bottle. Perfume. You’d never heard of this one before, but it oozed money. After uncapping it, you tested a few sprays, letting the scent coat the room. It was a warm scent, almost musky, but there was something intoxicating about it; it was the type of perfume that would make any woman feel in charge and seductive. Gnawing on your lip, you wondered who on earth was sending you these lavish, and totally unexpected gifts. You hadn’t had a suitor or any sort of boyfriend in ages, surely there had to be some sort of mistake or mix up.

Reaching in for the last item, you pulled out another smaller black box and opened it gingerly, eyes lighting up when you realized saw that it was a beautiful pair of heels. They were black, with a lace design to them, the bottom of them indicating that they were custom made Ferragamos. These had to set anyone back a small fortune, but here they were waiting for you, pristine and just you size. Not able to stop yourself, you slipped off the heels you had put on that morning and slipped the new ones. You couldn’t help but admire them; they even felt luxe just on your feet.

You hated yourself for how much you liked them, how sexy they made you feel. You’d come into wealth as you worked your way tot the top throughout the years, but you’d never taken advantage of that, you still preferred the simple things. Sighing slightly, you slid them back off and returned them to box, along with the rest of the items. You were beginning to think you new exactly where these gifts had come from, but couldn’t be positive. 

No note of any sort was to be found, which you realized was no doubt on purpose. He keeps his conquests secret. Or what he thought will be his conquests anyway. Grabbing the lid and putting it back on top of the box of presents, you took the whole thing and set it by the door to your office. You couldn’t accept it, any of it. If you did, it would just mean you’d be giving into him, and you weren’t about to do that. Not without a fight anyway.

Grabbing your phone, you quickly dialed his number, annoyed at yourself that you’d already memorized it. Pathetic, you sighed at yourself. You’d considered calling him and gotten halfway through doing so more times than you’d admit. 

It rang a few times before being answered by an overly cheery voice, causing you to roll your eyes, “Maxwell Lord’s office.”

“Y/N L/N,” you didn’t even bother with the formalities. You knew she was probably a dime a dozen, only there for a chance to recognized by Max, and probably for a chance to fuck, “tell him it’s urgent.”

“Maybe I ask what it’s regarding?”

“He’ll know,” you rolled your eyes as she murmured something quickly before connecting you to Max. You could still hang up, you reminded yourself, you had about five seconds to do so; but you found yourself unable, or perhaps unwilling to do that.

“Miss L/N,” gods, he even managed to sound like an asshole over the phone, “I was wondering when you’d call.”

“Maxwell,” why were you biting your lip in anticipation at hearing his voice again? No, no, no. You did your best to pull yourself together, “what the hell is your problem?”

“I’m afraid I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he sounded pleased with himself.

“Of course you do,” you insisted, casting a glare at the box by your door. Maybe...maybe you could keep it? How bad would it be? Rubbing your temple, you let out a long breath, “the box on my desk this morning suggests otherwise. Or are you going to pretend you don’t know about that either?”

“Oh that,” he chuckled on the other end, and you could see picture leaning back in his chair, feet on the edge of his desk. What an irritating man, you hated him, you reminded yourself, “I might have a hand in that.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” he was studying his hand, admiring all the expensive rings he was wearing, thinking about how good his hand would look wrapped around your throat, “don’t women like getting gifts?”

“Depending on the circumstances, I suppose they do,” you were willing to give him that much at least, “but under these circumstances, I can’t help but think you have some ulterior motives. I didn’t think we were exactly on those terms.”

“That all depends on how you view things,” his voice was so slow and it was enough for you to hang your head in annoyance. You couldn’t help but let your thoughts muse to how that voice would sound in your ear, whispering all sorts of filthy things to you, “perhaps we are. It’s all up to you.”

“The lipstick, the perfume, those heels...” you looked longingly at them, “what exactly are you playing at?”

“There are no games here,” he reached over in his chair, wetting his lips at the thought of you going through the box, your hands running over everything he’d already touched, “I just thought you’d look good in them-”

“In what? The heels?”

“All of it,” he mused, “and only that. I like your choice of lipstick, but I think you’d look even better with something a little darker. A nice blood color, no? Since that what you seem to be out for.”

“How dare you-”

“Hmm?” he interrupted you, “think about how good you’d look in those heels while I fuck you?”

“Mr. Lord-”

“You don’t have to play so hard to get, Y/N,” he was enjoying way more than he should have been, he knew that much. But so were you, despite your best efforts, “you can admit to yourself that you want to be used like the little girl you are.”

Normally you’d never let a man talk to you like that. Never. But somehow, when it was Maxwell Lord doing it, there was a certain thrill to it. A certain something that set a dull ache off between your legs and a fire in the pit of your belly. You let a few moments of silence pass in order to make sure you were composed and your voice wouldn’t crack.

“Are you about finished?”

“Are you about done being so stubborn?” he wasn’t used to so much push back. Most people in his life usually fell at his feet, especially women, and he did grow tired of it at some point. But this? A woman challenging and pushing him to limits? That was something he could get used to. He liked a brat, and you liked being one.

You let out a sound you hoped sounded like an amused laugh. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you leaned back in your chair, "look. This...whatever you think it is, is never happening. Never. So you need to knock this shit off."

"Hmm," the singular sound was enough to get your blood boiling. You were squeezing the receiver it was surprising that it didn't shatter into a thousand little pieces, "if you change your mind, you're more than welcome to come over and show me just how good the heels look."

"You really think I'm just going to do that?" he sure was confident. You almost had to admire his brashness if it didn't irritate you so much.

"I know you will."

"Goodbye, Maxwell," you hung up before he could say anything else, shoving the phone across the desk.

Max smirked as he hung up the phone. He was going to break you one way or another. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his AmEx black card and walked out of his office to his secretary. She gave him a nervous smile as he loomed over her. He hadn't had her yet, but even she knew her time would come. Everyone did. That's how it worked when Maxwell Lord was your boss.

"Sir?" her voice climbed an octave as he tossed the card in front of her.

"Take it and buy the finest set of lingerie money can buy," he instructed her, quickly following up with your measurements that he had somehow procured. He had his ways, he always did. She looked at him with wide eyes; it should have been a simple task, but nothing was ever easy when it came to him.

"Sir-"

"And make it sexy," he stated as if that wasn't obvious.

"Yes sir."

"And if it's not," he raised an eyebrow at her, "don't bother coming back."

"Y-yes," she agreed quietly, biting back the tears that had started pricking at the back of her eyes. While she enjoyed her job, she enjoyed being left alone a lot more. And this type of special assignment was not what she had bargained for. He was a specific man with a specific taste, and she was afraid she was going to miss the mark. Max seemed to notice her hesitation and raced and eyebrow at her, pointing towards the elevator.

“Get going,” he insisted, “you’ve got until the end of the day.”

She scrambled up and grabbed her purse, pocketing the suddenly heavy credit card as she tried to figure out where to go and what to buy. After all, how do you please a man like Maxwell Lord?

»»————-　♡　————-««

After a while of sitting and contemplating your conversation with Max, you finally got up and went back to the box. Part of you wanted to throw it away, or better yet, give it all away to people that might like it even more than you, but you found yourself unable. Instead, you picked the box back up and stuffed it into the small cabinet and locking it up. You shouldn’t have, you knew you should have just parted with the items, but some small part of you told you not to.

Deciding to go for a walk to clear your head, you stepped out of your office. 

“What was in the package?” Adina’s question caught you so off guard that you just jumped, a guilty look crossing your features. She raised an eyebrow and waited for you to say something, “Y/N?”

“Nothing,” you lied, trying to keep a straight face on, “it was a mistake...so I just put it to the side...I’ll make sure it goes to the right place.”

“Oh? I’m sure it was specifically meant for you,” she was asking too many questions, and you wished your poker face was better. Usually it was, but something about all of this made you feel different...weird and awkward. 

“There must have been a mistake,” you insisted again, a tone of finality in your voice as Adina seemed to understand that you were done with the conversation. She knew something was up, but she wasn’t going to push you; she knew better than that.

Before she could say anything else you turned towards the staircase, rather than the elevator, and headed down them as quickly as possible, not even bothering to try and catch your breathe. You just needed to go ahead and clear your head. You had a long day of work left ahead of you, and you weren’t going to get anything done if all of your thoughts were consumed by Maxwell Lord. 

Once you burst out into the semi busy street, you decided to walk a few blocks to get some air. But you were so lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice the young woman slowly walking ahead of you, looking closely at each storefront display. You walked right into her, surprising yourself and the girl, but quickly recovered.

“I’m so sorry,” you sighed, cursing yourself for being so careless, “are you okay? I totally wasn’t even paying attention.”

“It’s fine,” she sounded nervous, but gave you a small smile. She looked you over a few times, almost as if she recognized you, “I’m sorry but are you...I know this is weird, but I’m ugh...looking for some lingerie, and I have no clue what to look for. Do you...is there anything you’d recommend? I realize this is weird and I’m sorry-”

“It’s totally fine,” you did your best to give her a smile. Poor thing looked so nervous, this was probably the first time she was buying any sort of such thing, “always go for something black and lacy. Velvet if possible. Anything pretty and barely there, but that leaves just enough to the imagination. Men aren’t hard to please. They see a pretty thing and they’re thinking with their penis, not their head.”

“Thanks,” she seemed to ease up a little bit, letting out a small laugh at your words, “I appreciate your help.”

“No problem,” you gave her a warm smile before turning to continue on your walk to wherever, “I’m sure your boyfriend will love whatever you get.”

She gave you a small wave as you walked away, feeling a light sense of relief in her heart. At least she knew what to look for; what better place to get advice than right from the woman herself. She hoped Max would be pleased, and wondered if she should tell him that she had encountered you. Probably not; he might get mad that she had somehow blown his surprise. She had no clue what was going on with you the two of you, but she wasn’t going to question it. Today she was just focused on keeping her job.

After your little encounter with Max’s assistant, unbeknownst to you of course, you had a wicked idea. It was probably stupid, you really shouldn’t have done it, but you couldn’t help yourself. Not in that moment.

You found yourself entering the office that belonged to your ex, already annoyed with yourself. Walking up to the receptionist, you gave her a sweet smile, “hi, Y/N L/N here for Benjamin Vasquez.”

“Do you have an appointment?” her voice was high pitched and grating, and it took every fiber of your being not to roll your eyes.

“No, I don’t,” you replied, “just tell him I’m-”

“Y/N,” Benjamin popped his head out of his office, almost as if he could sense that you were there. He gave you a soft smile as he beckoned for you to follow him into his office. You turned to the woman at the desk, gave her a sickly sweet smile before turning to follow him. Once you were in his office, he closed the door and locked it, leaning against it with a smirk playing on his handsome features, “to what do I owe the pleasure? It’s been a while.”

“Are you free?” you asked as you slipped off your blazer and tossed it over one of the chairs. He let out a breathy laugh as he studied you, knowing exactly what you were here for. You hated yourself for it, but you knew you needed to scratch this itch before it drove you crazy.

“I’ve got an appointment in an hour,” he answered as he walked back over to you. You didn’t waste any time in slipping your hands under his jacket and loosening his tie, “I should have known this is what you came for.”

“Shut up,” you pressed a finger to his lips, effectively shushing him before he crashed his lips onto yours, hands already starting to undo your blouse. While your relationship hadn’t worked out, you always did have good chemistry with him, “just fuck me.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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