#excuse me while i rip my entire house down with my bare hands

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[iceysghost]

NXX Boys and Your Wedding: Part 3

Tears of Themis: Artem Wing x Rosa (MC) Reader

Word count: 2,010 words

CW: panic/anxiety attack, mentions of alcohol

- Artem Wing. Youngest Senior Attorney in Stellis with a 99% Win Rate.

- Expected to counter every argument. Expected to win every case. Expected to be serious, strict, and absolutely flawless, in or out of the court.

- It was no understatement to say he broke down trying to make this wedding happen. Physically and mentally, the preparation was oh, so heavy on his already broad shoulders.

- It took forever to ask Celestine for an entire three weeks leave. It took forever to book the church Rosa had always gone to as a child. It took forever just to take care of a single problem, and once it was finally solved, another one would pop right up.

- This was harder than any case he'd ever solved. Asking Rosa out was one thing, and proposing was another, but actually marrying her? She was the 1% of cases he always seemed to lose.

- Of course, his coworkers would always help him with his problems. He wanted to perfect this more than anyone, but at some point he asked himself if Rosa's wedding would've been any better if she was marrying Vyn, Marius, or Luke.

- However, if there's a will, there's a way. The chapel and reception were already set for the wedding, all in classic white.

- Artem's skin was nearly as white as the curtains behind him. He was scared. Scared that maybe the stained glass windows would shatter due to a sudden earthquake, or that her dress would rip while waking down the aisle, or that she'd never marry him at all; Rosa, the runaway bride.

- No matter how many times Vyn teased him for his tension, no matter how many times Luke shook his shoulders, no matter how many times Marius slapped his face with the excuse of "waking him up", there was still a nervous, unprepared look on his face.

- Their preparations had gone so quickly he could barely keep up. He hadn't even practiced his wedding vows, nor checked if their rings really did fit, nor had he researched on bright ideas on how to kiss her—

- "The ceremony's starting, Artem."

- God help me, he thought.

- Body as stiff as a board, for nearly the whole ceremony his mind was filled with worrying thoughts. She doesn't love me. She's going to leave me for the other men. I'm such a terrible fiancé. She doesn't deserve such a simple wedding like this, she deserves grand banquets and bright lights and—

- "I, Rosa, take you, Artem, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I will love and honor you all the days of my life,"

- This is it. This is when they get married. This is when God looks down upon them and blesses their union.

- Yet, as he stuttered over his vows and as a tear rolled down his face in fear, Rosa knew something was wrong.

- She held his hand to her face before putting on a ring. "Artem, why are you crying?"

- "Do you really love me, Rosa?"

- Whispers and mumbles spread across the crowd. Kimberly looked like she was going to faint, Celestine simply shook her head, and Vyn, the one who walked her down the aisle and a presumed atheist by most, looked like he was praying to the skies above.

- Everything was falling apart. He was a failure. His guests thought so too. Rosa probably hates him.

- He shuddered. Everything was so loud, so big, so cramped, so dark; his breathing ragged, his heart beating fast, his head spinning, he was about to faint—

- "I love you so much, Artem. I'm right here. Don't cry."

- She took off her veil and brought his hand to her lips, kissing it. Like he always did at every dinner. She slowly slipped the ring on his finger. Like he did at the opera house in Lombardia for his proposal.

- Artem still frozen in place, she placed another ring in his hand. "Will you put it on for me, love?"

- He looked at his palm. A gold ring, embedded with crystals, shining in the sun. A light flickered in his chest.

- He looked at her eyes. The same color as the ring. Yet, the fire burned brighter, though still small.

- With trembling hands, he put it on. He shut his eyes; he knew what was happening next. The most dreadful, most terrifying part of this entire endeavor.

- "You may now kiss the bride."

-  How should he kiss her? How close should he pull her? Where should his hands go? On her face? Waist?

- Suddenly, all the times he kissed her so perfectly went down the drain. This was their first kiss. He'd never done this before.

- He was just about to fall over, as Rosa held his shoulders. Her face came closer to his; her lips so glossy, skin so smooth, eyelashes effortlessly fluttering.

- The ground no longer shook. His surroundings no longer spun. Everything was so bright and clear; he could suddenly pinpoint every detail, move his hands so smoothly, all of the gears running in his robotic head stopped and were replaced by pure emotions and the purest love.

- Artem Wing had never loved anyone like this before. It was ever so hard for him to love; or even envision someone falling true victim to it.

- His parents loved each other through work. They showed their love by providing each other important files, discussing different cases, and putting all of their income into a bank account they both shared.

- So he first showed his love in this way. He complimented Rosa's work, gave her reassurance during tough cases, and let her take breaks whenever she was too tired to go on.

- He watched the kids at the orphanage call each other cute nicknames and hold hands. He watched young couples on the streets wear cute matching outfits and buy each other teddy bears. He watched grandparents at the nursing home pick each other small bouquets of flowers and slow dance to sweet love songs.

- So he asked himself, what was love really? Was it really a calculated situation already set by fate? Was it a hard case to crack, always looking for evidence and interrogating witnesses?

- He saw love as a skill, a talent only possessed by the most blessed and the most experienced. A plan with step-by-step procedures on how to get the most optimal result.

- He realized his mistakes. Why had he seen this as if it was work to be done? Why had he seen this as a research project on different novels and shows on how to love "properly"?

- Love is inconsistent. It's never like the movies; it's never how society portrays it.

- Love will be messy, and painful, but in the end always sweet. The confession will never lead to a perfect relationship with either sides never having problems and neither of them fighting.

- Instead of trying to stabilize and calculate their relationship, now he learned to go with the flow and go wherever the journey took them.

- This was real. They were meant to be. Everything was already perfect, everything was going to be alright. Both of them would stay together forever.

- However, what Artem did not take into account was that fate can sometimes suck.

- He would not be prepared for it if problems arose in their relationship. Why would you go with the flow if it was leading you off a cliff?

- Artem would soon learn that what he was feeling was not fate, but the truest love. A couple could always bend the stars to their liking if it meant they would stay together. Fate is controlled by no other than ourselves.

- A warmth spread from his lips, down his chest, and into his arms and legs. Suddenly his limbs were light, and the ring on his finger fit so comfortably he could wear it for years.

- Her lips were so soft, so sweet; like honey. He wanted nothing but to stay like this, to pull her close, to spread his wings and fly away with her to a place no one knew; suddenly she was—

- Flying. She was flying! Her feet left the ground, arms still on him; there must have been magic in his lips!

- Artem smiled through the kiss. So blissfully his eyes blinked at her, and she looked at him and laughed in his mouth.

- She was spinning in the air, laughter and cheers ringing in her ear. His blue eyes were happy, so happy he had tears streaming down his cheeks.

- Rosa embraced him tightly once she hit the ground. Artem looked at her, and she realized he was looking at her lips.

- "Can I have another?" Oh, Artem, so shy in even asking for a kiss on their wedding day!

-"Of course," she giggled. They again pressed their lips to eachother, this time short and sweet.

- "I love you, Rosa," he whispered.

- "I love you too."

- He looked to the crowd; everyone clapping and laughing. He saw his mother. She was crying through her glasses, and cheering at the top of her lungs.

- A hand brushed his arm. "Shall we?"

- He smiled at her. She entwined her elbow with his, and they walked down the aisle together.

- He seemed to forget everything that happened beforehand. His face was flushed with pink, and there was peace in the way he looked around the wedding he worked so hard for.

- I guess weddings weren't so bad after all.

- Artem followed all of Rosa's suggestions; he ate well, danced, and even drank several flutes of champagne without passing out.

- He no longer cared about whether or not Marius was swinging a chair around in a drunken frenzy. He only laughed as Vyn teased him, responding with his own jokes that weren't half bad.

- Celestine looked at him and felt that three weeks of Artem's and Rosa's work in the law firm's hands wasn't so bad if it meant that he was less tense. She instead prayed for Kiki Bennet, the young woman who managed to catch the bride's bouquet despite not even having a boyfriend.

- After saying goodbye to his guests, smiling ear to ear, the both of them proceeded to the hotel. He carried her bridal style, from stepping out of the car all the way to their room.

- They giggled together, talking about their honeymoon, and whether or not they would start a family. The both of them discussed the baby names Athena, Aphrodite, Zeus, and Hermes; eventually, they decided on Apollo for a boy, and Themis for a girl.

- Artem held her close, wishing this would never end. He enjoyed the wedding so much that he would do everything just to go back in time and experience it a million times over.

- He prayed to God; Thank you for blessing our wedding and blessing me with this beautiful woman.

- I pray our relationship will prosper, with beautiful days, and days where we get the opportunity to confront our problems.

- I also pray for the people around the world like me, who struggle with love, to find peace in their relationships, whether platonic, familial, or romantic. That they learn to accept that love is unpredictable and the best you can do is follow along.

- At the end of his prayer, he kissed an asleep Rosa on the forehead. She was an angel in disguise, an angel who not only protected him, but deserved to be loved for the rest of their life, whether on earth or in the heavens above.

A/N: If the Marius fanfic was long, this one is most definitely longer. If you hadn't noticed by now Artem's my favorite among the three. His story of love is super relatable to me, and I'm more than grateful to already have someone I call my angel :)

I forgot to mention in the past few parts that these weddings are Caholic/Christian; I based it on the weddings I'm most familiar with. I'm sorry if I couldn't accommodate some of you who have different religions, but I respect and appreciate everyone's cultures!

Marius is a total mood in this fanfic. I feel bad for Kiki; Hoyoverse, give her an idol boyfriend!!! I didn't *explicitly* mention the name of Artem's mom for spoiler purposes (in the tags for anyone interested).

I changed the opacity and coloring of some of the pictures to make them clearer. The first time I posted this you could barely decipher what they were.

Thank you for the love on the past few posts! I'm planning to write even more after this and open requests, so if you want to stay updated, be sure to leave a follow. Like I always say, constructive criticism is accepted and reblogs/likes are greatly appreciated!

[tobi-momo]

A Misunderstanding

PAIRING: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

GENRE: Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Reverse Comfort

WARNINGS: a lot of crying from both you and kuroo | cursing | mentions of sex | cheating (kind of? youll know when reading) | angst | mentions of drinking/being drunk | nothing is suggestive!! oh ya yall are married btw

WORD COUNT: 3k

A/N: ok ik this is long but this idea came from literally nowhere but i decided to write it thank you @combat-wombatus for helping me you helped put ideas in my brain<333 now i wasnt originally going for a happy ending but im really bad at angst so enjoy the shitty ending :)

“Please, Y/n, you know I didn't mean it,” he pleaded, his large hands desperately grabbing at your form while you push him away, your breaking sobs making his heart shatter. “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he begs, falling on his knees in front of your trembling body, not being able to tear his eyes off of your heartbroken ones. He needed you to stay. He needed to show you that he isn’t that guy and that he would do anything for you. It was a one time thing. He wasn’t even sober. It wasn’t him. It was the alcohol. He wasn’t thinking straight. Please forgive him, please, please, please.

But you couldn’t. No matter how hard or how much you loved him and wanted to, the pain that ripped at your heart every time you looked at him was too much to bear. So you didn’t. You turn your blurry, glassy eyes away from him as he grabs your hand and forces it into his; your lips quivering and knees shaking. You couldn’t keep the betrayal and agony inside, whining and weeping at him, your knees giving out before your legs slam against the floor, your head near the carpet as you try and keep your affliction at bay.

“Y/n, please,” he whines, tears streaming down his pale cheeks; his admission of his unfaithfulness drained the color from his face. “Please forgive me, I need you, I love you so much.”

“W-” you sniffle, not knowing what to say. You knew you didn’t have to say anything at all, that you didn’t owe him any words, but you just...you just needed to know. “Why,” your voice quivered and cracked, your throat sore, “why did you,” you take a long breath, grabbing your chest to try and stop the heartache, the sudden cramp that formed where it used to be filled with warmth and love, “do this to me? With her?” You look up at him once with wide, searchful eyes as you ponder the reasons and look for the answers in his empty pupils.

“I wasn’t thinking straight, baby, I didn’t know what I was doing, please,” his voice stammers, trying to get you to understand that he really didn’t know what he was doing. “I would never do this to you, I-” “But you did.” Your tone is no longer sad and confused, but angry and fed up. His head backing up quickly, not expecting the response. “You made a promise, Tetsurou, remember?” You glare at him with menacing eyes as you hold up the very finger he kissed and placed the ring on on your wedding day. The beautiful diamond ring that had his initials carved in the interior and little gorgeous jewels that made the walls sparkle once hit with the hot sun was no more; the dark, gloomy piece of rock and metal meaning nothing but lies and mistrust.

“No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this to me,” he adjures guiltily.

“Don’t do this to you?” Your voice laced with deadly venom, standing and backing up, wiping your mouth with your hand in annoyance, placing it on your hip. “You did this to me! You did this to us! You went out! You got drunk! You fucked someone else! And not even a random girl! No! You just had to fuck your ex!” Your voice cracked again before you inhaled sharply and covered up your struggle.

“Y/n, I didn’t know what I was doing!”

“And that’s an excuse?? What, so now you can go fuck whoever you want and say ‘I didn’t know what I was doing!’” you mimic, “so you can get away with it every time?”

He didn’t answer. He looked at the ground, understanding exactly where you came from.

“Hm? Are you gonna answer me, or sit there like a coward?”

He could tell fully well you were just saying this because you were hurt. You didn’t mean any of it. You loved him. No matter what, you will always love him. Trusting him was out of the box for a while, maybe forever. But he can’t lose you. He knew you were soulmates- he knew you were made for each other. There was a reason you guys made it this far and only had big problems now. He needed to find that reason and use it for himself to win you back. He needed you back.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, your dramatic hand gestures coming to a halt at his words, your figure coming to a stand still as you wait for him to finish. “You don't deserve this. You don’t deserve me. Please know that it was a mistake and that I’ll never do it again ever, ever, ever,” he repeats, wanting it to sound as sincere as he means. “Just please give me a chance to make this up to you, please don’t leave me by myself without you,” he sobs out, putting his head in his hands.

You knew you shouldn’t feel bad for him. But god-fucking-dammit are you feeling bad for him. You knew you still loved him, you knew he still loved you- that much was obvious. You couldn’t see him for a while, no. Could you guys work it out? Maybe stitch the wound? Wait until the scar is barely visible anymore? Would that even work?

“Tetsurou,” a single, hot tear dripping down your face as you point to the ground. “I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.”

“I know, I know, just please give me a chance to help fix this!” He cries at your feet, his body bundled in a ball of self hatred and guilt. “I can do it, baby. I can help things go back to normal.”

“I don’t think they ever will be normal again.”

He whines, trying to negotiate with you as much as he can. “Let me fix us. Let me give you my everything again, let me show you that I’m all yours and no one else's, please,” he moans in anticipation for rejection, knowing the chances of you agreeing were next to zero.

The next few hours are silent. Him alone in the bedroom. Crouching on the floor as he ponders your possible answer. You work in the kitchen, making food to satisfy your appetite. He could hear your sniffles from the bedroom and picture you wiping your tears as you carry the pots on the stove. God, he was the biggest piece of shit ever known. What the fuck went through his mind when he was fucking his ex? He only remembers some of it, them waking up in bed together after, only wearing undergarments underneath the sheets and him holding her waist as if she were you. He thought they had ended on good terms, knowing that they were better as friends. He rushed out the door, not being able to stay in the same room without getting sick. He knew what he had to do.

He opens the door to the living room, a slight creak gaining your attention as you stir the sauce in the pan. Your eyes are puffy, your lip still trembling as you try to turn away from him. He only takes about two steps forward before he stops, trying to find the words he wants to say.

“Listen, I know you said you needed time, and I’m not rushing you at all whatsoever. I want to give you all the time in the world to think this over. If you need, I can go to Kou’s house and stay there for a while. He won’t mind. I just want to give you the space you deserve.”

You nod in response, your head still facing away before he whispers an “I love you” before he slips out of the apartment.

~.~.~.~

The next few days were tortue. Not being able to sleep in the same bed he would sleep in with you, not being able to watch the same tv shows, not being able to even be in his presence at least once a day like you used to melted a hole of despair inside you: eating away at your emptiness, taking away the numbness that you so desperately needed right now. The feeling came back- the one that you tried shutting out three hours ago. It crept up at you, flipping your stomach and weighing your lungs down to the floor, your throat sore and dry. Your eyes wet with a blurry wall as your tears build up once again, missing your cheeks as you crouch down looking at the floor, falling on the tile. The droplets containing your anguish splatter on the ground, your raggedy whimpers echoing throughout the vacant apartment, making it all the more obvious he wasn’t there.

Knock knock knock

Was that the door?

Your wide, unbelieving eyes turned to the wooden door frame; the knocks getting louder and faster. You quickly stand up and try to collect yourself, preparing to have a long talk with Tetsurou. You grab the handle, turning it- the door opening with a tiny creak.

Oh.

“Hi! Kuroo left his jacket at the party the other day, is he here?”

Oh, that bitch.

“No. He’s not.” You deadpan, not finding her cheery, happy expression amusing.

“Oh no! Uh, well, here, can you give this back to him for me?”

“Stop smiling at me like you aren’t part of the reason he’s gone.” You snark, glaring at her with sharp eyes as she backs up, confused.

“W-what?”

“You heard me. Don’t act fucking clueless.”

“Excuse me? Who are you to talk to m-”

“Oh, cut the shit,” you roll your eyes, “I know you slept with Tetsurou, you don’t need put on whatever the fuck this is,” you gesture at her.

“What the hell are you talking about? What are you, fucking crazy?” Your eyes narrow in confusion, your disgusted scowl lessening at her words.

“Right. You probably don’t remember because you were blacked out,” you add sarcastically. “He told me what you guys did. Now you know. So, I would love it if you would just leave.”

“What are you- Me and Kuroo didn’t do shit last night. I drank like two beers and was hanging out with another girl the entire time,” she explains, looking offended. Your face loosens into an expression she couldn’t read. “He blacked out early and passed out on the couch while I was busy talking with the other girl.”

“Huh?” You whisper, your disoriented thoughts not aligning to a proper conclusion.

“I didn’t go to bed until like,” she thought back, “I don’t know, three in the morning? There were people passed out on the floor so I decided to take the guest bedroom with her. I was still awake when Kuroo came into the room, I’m guessing because he thought it was yours, based off of how he kept mumbling your name and shit,” she exhales, “he grabbed onto me once he got in and just clung.” You glower at her, huffing. She sees this, sighing before continuing, “Calm down, remember nothing happened. Remember that girl? She ended falling off the bed because I was scooting away from his clingy ass.” You look at her blankly, trying to fit the pieces together. “She ended up leaving the party completely,” she mumbled in embarrassment before you speak up.

“Then why did he tell me you guys had sex?” You mutter quietly, although assuming she heard since her head backed up while she quickly scoffs.

“I swear to God, that man. Listen.” You look up into her eyes- her genuine eyes. “Me and Kuroo didn’t do a single thing. I didn’t do anything to him and he didn’t do anything to me. I’ll have a conversation with him later because he is an absolute dumbass,” she breathed.

What the fuck?? You were just supposed to believe her?

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

“Me and him ended a long time ago. I don’t like him like that and I haven’t for a while. And seeing he was bragging about you the entire time at the party, he’s over me, too. Besides, I’m not even into guys that much anymore anyways,” she grinned and winked at you. The shock and realization hit you like a truck. She wasn’t even- oh my God. She chuckled at your expression; you ran away from her to the counter to get your phone, quickly unlocking it and tapping on Tetsurou’s contact.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mumble over and over. To tap the call button, listening to it ring as you bring your phone up to your ear, hearing him pick up the phone almost immediately after.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” He sounded worried. It’s only been about a week, he had hoped that you weren’t going to leave him.

“Get over here, right now, Tetsurou.” Your voice made it seem like it was urgent, so he quickly picked up his jacket from the couch, and you could hear the jingling of his keys as he grabbed them and opened the door, almost slamming it shut once he left.

~.~.~.~

“Y/n?” He asked at the open front door, wondering why it wasn’t closed. “Y/n, you have to be careful and close the door, we have them for a reason, you know,” he said as he walked in. Even after being at the line of a break-up, he still cares for your well-being. He didn’t even do anything wrong and he was still caring for you as a loved one should. He always did everything to make you feel comfortable and safe, so once he knew that he had slept with his ex he was completely devastated to his core. He didn’t want to do this to you, but you had the right to know.

“Tetsu.” You called. Already back to nicknames? This is good, right?

“Yes? Y/n?” He was scared, to say the least, feeling awkward and not knowing what to do. He walked scarcely towards your figure sitting on the couch, not caring to drop his keys and jacket on the counter. He had a feeling this might go wrong.

“We need to talk.” Shit. This is exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Hearing those words he couldn’t help but think that you were going to make him pack his stuff and go. “So, I talked with your ex.” You speak slowly, not wanting your words to come out wrong. You don’t want him to take any of this in a bad way at all. Yet his eyes widen drastically, his heartbeat racing and his nerves pricking him. “You are just one big dummy, aren’t you?”

What? What are you talking about?

“What?”

“You didn’t sleep with her. She told me everything that happened that night. She’s not even into guys anymore. Tetsu-”

This couldn’t be happening. Not only did he accuse himself of cheating, he accused himself of cheating with his ex, and that he cheated with his ex at a party, while you two are married. And then it turns out it wasn’t true? What the hell was wrong with him? He jeopardized your entire relationship because he was too drunk to know what was going on.

“Wait, what?” He yells, angrily sitting down on the couch, “so you’re telling me-” you nodded and hummed an ‘mhm’ in response. His hands find their way to his hair, pulling at the roots and scratching his scalp, his low grunts of pain and fury seeping out of his throat as he frustratingly comprehends what he just did.

You rush over to him, grabbing his wrists and pushing them down to his lap as fast as you can, making his eyes find their way to your blown out pupils. You can see the hot tears prickle down his cheek as he frowns at you, completely and utterly defeated.

“Tetsu, I don’t want you to hurt yourself, it’s okay,” you reassure, giving him a happy smile. He wanted to smile back, but he couldn’t control the broken sob that escaped him. “Hey, hey,” you try to grab his attention as he pulls his head down, crying. “It’s okay, baby, it’ll be okay.” You wrap your arms around his head, protecting him as you softly coo and ‘shh’ him quietly in his ear. ‘I’m sorry’ kept coming out of his mouth as he clinged to you, not being able to help his want to be closer to you. The realization that he just almost broke your heart completely and he had worried about divorce for this shit made him want to just rip his scalp out. He was so stupid. So, so so, stupid. “Tetsu, look at me, please. Look at me,” you whisper, bringing your hand to his chin, dragging it up so you could catch sight of his hazel irises. His eyes red and puffy, his cheeks wet and his eyes droopy, you couldn’t do anything but frown at the sight. He hated himself right now, not wanting to face the embarrassment and the humiliation of the situation.

“You don’t deserve me, I’m so sorry,” he whimpered in your arms, gripping them tighter and tighter for comfort- you knowing that he needed it right now. You had already pulled him into your chest, feeling his wet tears soak your shirt, your hands rubbing his back and your fingers gently grazing his throbbing scalp.

“It’s okay, I forgive you, Tetsu, you did the right thing by telling me you did it instead of hiding it from me, and then it turns out you didn’t do it at all.” Your cheeks start to feel hot, and you don’t even realize your sniffles until you could feel a dam break at your water line. You couldn’t stop them, the tears of relief. You didn’t want to stop them. You were glad that they were her, glad that they were for him, glad they were because you knew the truth, glad because you knew you two would be okay.

You looked back at your ring, watching it bloom like a flower in the spring, the meaning coming back to your marriage. It wasn’t just metal and rock anymore, it was a gorgeous promise.

“I love you, Tetsurou. Don’t forget that. You’re staying with me, alright?” you whisper into his hairline.

“Thank you,” he cries.

taglist: @solar3lunar @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @toosharkinternet @hitosushi @alpha3113 @awmahleebkg

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REQUESTS: OPEN

reblogs are appreciated :))

[falcqns]

Hi i was wondering if you do like a Chris Evans x reader like chris decided to pull a prank on the reader like hes being mean to her for a whole day like he got the reader her favorite food and when the reader ask why chris didnt get any chris just said hes not hungry and the reader is abt to eat when chris steal her food and said hes hungry and the reader was like “can i get one bite? I didnt eat anything today🥺” and chris said no and the reader was like please and chris still said no and the reader just get an apple and sit there and chris continue to be mean to the reader and the reader cried or something and chris apologizes and said it was a prank. Thank you if you end up doing my request 😩❤️

meanie

pairing: chris evans x wife!reader

warnings: angst!! fluff, mentions of divorce

a/n: hope you enjoy!!

you had no idea what you had done.

your husband had seemed happy last night, but when he woke up, he seemed to be a completely different person.

he had barely said two words to you the entire day, and when he did talk to you, he was short and snappy. he didn’t smile at you, he didn’t give any affection. no kisses, no hugs, nothing.

you’d thought originally that he was just having an off day. and while it doesn’t excuse his behaviour, it would explain it. but, Scott called him just after lunch, and he seemed to be his normal happy self.

you had selfishly thought he was back to normal, but then he muted himself and snapped at you when you asked if he wanted to come on Dodgers walk with you.

when you got home from the walk with Dodger, he was gone. he didn’t even leave a note, he just left.

you knew he wouldn’t do that for no reason, you had abandonment issues from a previous relationship so he knew better than to do something like that. you’d tried calling and texting him, but he didn’t answer. you tried to track his phone, but he turned off the location. he didn’t even leave a note.

you’d just got off the phone with Lisa, who had no idea where her son was either, when Chris walked through the door with your favourite food.

you smiled, thinking everything was fine now, and went to eat your first meal of the day.

he gave you the food, and when you asked if he wanted any, he said no, and walked away, but just as you went to open the bag, he walked back into the kitchen and took his, saying that he changed his mind.

he walked into the living room with it, leaving you standing in the kitchen with tears welling up in your eyes. you willed them away, and once they were gone, went to ask Chris if you could have some.

he said no. you were even more confused. why was he being so mean? you asked again, and explained that you hadn’t eaten anything all day, and he said that that was your fault, and he was hungry.

you sighed, and walked to the kitchen. you grabbed an apple, washed it, and headed to the bedroom. you’d barely made it through the doors, when your tears came back full force, and you sunk to the ground with your apple in one hand.

you sat there, eating your apple, and crying. once the apple was gone, you’d realized that you shouldn’t put up with his bitchy attitude. he was being so nice to everyone, except you, and you had no idea why. if you had done something, why didn’t he just tell you?

you disposed of the apple core, and grabbed your gym duffel out of the closet. you threw your toiletries, electronics, and a few sets of outfits inside before zipping it up.

you slung it over your shoulder, and headed down the hallway.

as soon as you passed the living room, Chris spoke up.

“where are you going?” he asked, and you turned to face him.

“away. i don’t know for how long, but yeah.”

his brow furrowed. “why?”

you scoffed. “why? you’re really asking me why?” you asked, and Chris nodded, still confused. “you’ve been mean to me all day! what have i done to you? you’ve been short and snappy with me, but have been nice to Scott and your mom. you brought home my favourite food, and then ate it in front of me when i haven’t eaten anything because i’ve been wondering what the hell i did wrong to make you so pissed off! so i’m leaving! i’m done with it! i’m not having a repeat of my last relationship!” you exclaimed, and walked out of the house, your husband trialing behind you.

“baby, it was a prank,” he explained, a smile on his face. you flipped around to face him.

“A PRANK?! THATS YOUR IDEA OF A PRANK?! MAKE YOUR WIFE WORRIED SICK ABOUT WHAT SHE DID WRONG?! BE MEAN TO YOUR WIFE, REFUSE TO LET HER EAT, AND REDUCE HER TO TEARS ALL FOR A PRANK?!” Chris’s face paled. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” you screamed, and slapping him across the face.

you threw your bag in the car and walked around to the other side. you got in and turned it on. Chris grabbed the door handle.

“baby, c’mon. i’m sorry. it was a bad prank, and i shouldn’t have done it. just don’t do this. don’t leave. i need you.” he begged, tears rimming his blue eyes. at least he knows what he did was wrong, you thought.

“Chris. let go of my door. i’m leaving and that’s that. now maybe you’ll know how i felt for 6 hours today when you were gone.” you said and pulled out of the driveway, forcing Chris to let go of the handle.

you pulled onto the street, and glanced back at Chris, who was watching in disbelief as his wife drove away.

you pulled into your favourite restaurant, and ordered the food that was so harshly ripped from you earlier, before parking in a school parking lot to eat. you looked back at your bag, and thought about your options.

you knew you weren’t overreacting, but you couldn’t live without Chris. you were putting your debit card back into your wallet, when you saw one of Chris’s credit cards.

he told you that you needed it, in case you got stranded somewhere, and needed money. he made more money than you did, so it made sense for you to have it. you’d never used it, but there was a good $2000-$3000 on it, and it was only 3pm on a Saturday, so all the malls were still open.

you sighed, and pulled into the lane that would lead to the nearest mall.

by the time you made it home, it was 9 pm. you walked in the house with the bag you packed, as well as numerous shopping bags. Chris wasn’t on the ground floor of your shared home, and you could hear him talking to his mom in your bedroom, so you made a beeline to the guest room.

you stayed in there the remainder of the night, not answering the door when Chris realized you were home and had barricaded yourself inside the room.

you heard him take Dodger out for another walk, and you decided you shouldn’t have to sleep on the guest room bed, and decided to switch rooms.

you locked yourself in your room, but left your bags in the guest room. you got ready for bed, and had just shut the light off when he knocked on the door, begging you to let him in, which you didn’t.

after about 10 minutes, he gave up on getting you to talk to him, and resigned to sleeping in the guest room for the night.

when you woke up the next morning, you were on a mission.

the shopping had really cleared your head yesterday, and you knew just what you had to do.

you marched down the stairs to where Chris was making you breakfast, and cleared your throat.

he turned around and was about to walk to you when you held out a hand to stop him before you spoke.

“i want a divorce.” you said simply, and watched as all the colour drained from Chris’s face.

“w-what?” he stuttered, and you repeated your sentence.

“i said i want a divorce.”

Chris dropped the spatula as tears rimmed his eyes.

“please don’t do this. i’m sorry for what i did. i shouldn’t have pranked you like that. i thought you’d figure it out, or you’d find it funny after. i-i wasn’t thinking. i’m sorry. please don’t leave me. i cant live without you.” He begged, his tears spilling over.

you shook your head. “there’s nothing that you can say that will stop this from happening. you crossed a line. i’ve put up with a lot of your pranks, but i won’t put up with this one. it was wrong, and it shouldn’t have happened. i don’t want to be with someone who thinks it’s okay to treat me like that.” you stated. you pulled your wallet out of your pocket, and grabbed his card out. “here’s your credit card. we’re done.” you said, and walked away, leaving Chris dumbfounded in the kitchen.

Chris hadn’t moved from the spot you left him in.

you wanted a divorce?

he thought you’d never say something like that, but then again, he crossed a major line yesterday. he thought you’d find it funny, but apparently you didn’t.

he eventually sunk to the floor, and remained there, until you entered the kitchen again. he looked up to you, trying to convey all the pain and misery he was feeling at the idea of you leaving him, and was shocked to see a smile on your face.

you crouched to his level, and giggled.

“now you know what it’s like to be pranked like that.” you said simply.

it took Chris a second to realize what that meant, but when he did, he threw himself into your arms, and sobbed in relief.

[kimnjss]

just hanging out | jjk

⤑  series: cherry pickers

⤑ pairing: gamer(fuckboi)!jungkook x video vixen(virgin)!reader

⤑ genre: fluff!... some angst at the end if you squint.

⤑ rating: pg13

⤑ word count: 3.9K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: lmao second hand embarrassment probably.

⤑ A/N: hey :( love you all who have been enjoying this story nd sending your thoughts in - they really make my day. so thank youu! let me know what you think x 

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2020 | 16:49

Casual. You're constantly reminding yourself the entire time you're getting ready. This was supposed to be casual. This was not a date. So there was no reason for you to go through the process of getting ready for a date. You didn't shave, just took a regular shower with the regular soaps. 

Spent very little time in the mirror when getting dressed, there was no need for frilly shirts or form-fitting pants. Instead, you settled for a pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie that Taehyung had lost a little while back. Minimum makeup, hair up, and out of your face.

Needed to cement it in your mind that this was not a date. Steal away any reason for you to act like it was one. No matter how much you knew you'd enjoy the whole shebang, candlelit dinner, romantic walk admiring the night sky, kiss on the doorstep – you had to ignore that.

Bottle it up and stuff it down because there were many things you didn't know about Jungkook and the bits you did know weren't great. His shitty friends being at the top of the list. So, until you were sure he wasn't like the lot of them... not dates were what you'd settle for. Because at the end of the day, you wanted to see him.

It's a thirty-minute drive from your house to Jungkook's and you spend the entire car ride agonizing on how this 'not date' was going to turn out. And then immediately scolding yourself for freaking out over something that shouldn't matter as much as you were making it out to be.

For all you knew, he probably was just waking up... barely remembering that he had plans with you. Most likely hopping in the shower just minutes before you were said to arrive. Mmh, Jungkook in the shower. Droplets of water rolling over his tone skin, following the dips and ridges until...

It's hard to shake the image of Jungkook showering out of your head once you've got it there. Even with his insistent need to wear baggy clothes, it didn't take a detective to see that the kid was ripped. No doubt spent hours in the gym working on his arms, his abs, his thighs...

Nope. Not going there. No reason to go there when you were on your way to hang out, innocently hang out with a guy that you were just barely friends with. That's all it was. Two people getting to know each other after clicking the first time they talked. God, the way you clicked with Jungkook was unbelievable. 

He made you laugh. And it was weird because you don't remember ever feeling this comfortable around someone this quickly. Jungkook was different. At least you hoped he was. Instantly, you're shushing your thoughts. Refusing to mentally put so much pressure on something that more than likely become nothing.

Getting your hopes up too early was the reason why people got hurt in the first place. So this wasn't a date. And you weren't going to expect him to treat it as such. Just hanging out to get to know each other. That was it.

That was it. Your new mantra as you shove your car into park, heading up the walkway to his front door. Knocking while repeating those four words to yourself. Casual. That was it.

You're not even waiting a full minute before the front door is being pulled open, revealing a fresh-looking Jungkook. Dark hair falling in pretty waves, on either side of his pretty face. He seems to be glowing and you feel it throughout your entire body when he smiles.

A baggy pink sweatshirt swallows his figure, paired with equally loose gray sweatpants. His house is spotless when he lets you in, obvious that he spent the duration of the morning cleaning. The smell of Lysol still lingered in the air. Even the white socks on his feet seemed oddly clean.

You can't help but smile at the effort, allowing yourself to believe that all the trouble was for you.

Once he's setting your shoes in his extremely organized coat closet, he's leading you through the house. Smiling big as he gives you a mini-tour of the first floor and you swear you're paying attention. You're trying your best at least, but it's hard to concentrate on anything that wasn't how cute he looked.

“And this is the arcade,” He's showing off both rows of teeth with his broad gesture into the room located at the end of the hall. Obviously proud of this part of the tour.

As he should be. When the kid said arcade, that's exactly what he meant. Old school game machines lined the walls, ones that you'd actually find in an arcade. Some games that you've never heard of before. All with the high score name: 'Koo'. A dramatic two-person car racing game tucked in the corner.

There's a curved 90 inch TV mounted on the wall, in front of it on a stand is every game console ever made. He has his laptop set up in the room, with two monitors and two gaming chairs in front of it. In the middle of the room is the most comfortable L shaped couch.

All you can say is, “Whoa.” And he's laughing at your reaction.

“It's my favorite room in the house. Well... aside from,” His eyes shift up, obviously gesturing to upstairs where his bedroom is.

The insinuation has a blush darkening your cheeks, but you choose to ignore it, stepping further into the room with a tiny gasp. “You have Skee-ball!?” He's right behind you as you rush across to the room to where the game is set up. A manicured nail pressing against the start button, grinning wide up at him as the balls roll down.

Bright red numbers flash on the screen, the high score followed by his name: 310...Koo. A smirk instantly settling onto your features as you reach for one of the bright-colored balls. “I'm gonna beat that,” Lifting a finger to point at the numbers on the screen.

Jungkook is letting a loud laugh leave his lips, a pretty smile settling on his features as the sound dies down. “That took me two weeks... good luck,” Drawing your hand back, you release the ball on the swing. Watching as it travels upward toward the slots, dropping right into the gutter.

It takes four throws before you're getting it right, the ball traveling up the slope and directly into the 40 point slot. You're letting out a loud whoop, arms lifting in slight victory.

Eyes wide, you're turning your head to face him. “You saw that!?” You're shocked that he's already looking at you. With this soft lovey look that you were the one to hang the stars in the sky. And it makes you wish that this was a date because if it were you'd be able to let yourself enjoy the feeling that comes with the way that he's looking at you.

But it's not a date. So you don't. Shove the fuzzy feeling away with a shake of your head, reaching for another ball from the rack and thrusting it forward. 

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2020 | 18:08

Jungkook is scary good at games. Like scary good. If he wasn't matching your score, he was doubling it. Didn't even graze his high score in Skee-ball and every game after that was his domain. And he was having fun beating you, the smile growing on his face each time you were crossing your arms with a pout – claiming the game had to be rigged.

Foosball to Car Racing to Dance Dance Revolution (he had way more rhythm than you'd expect). You've settled down quite a bit since you first showed up at his house, finding it easy to relax around him. He was cute when he got competitive, not like you were much of a competition in these games... but it was nice to see him like this.

The scrunch of his nose as he focused on the screen. The cute dimples that popped out whenever he won. And how he mindlessly sat close to you, engulfing you in his sweet scent. There was just something about being with Jungkook that made you feel at ease, could someone who made you that comfortable really be as bad as his trash friends?

His shoulder brushes against yours as he settles further into the comfort of his couch, his thumbs moving over the controller quickly. Implementing combo after to defeat your character. In the fourth round of Mortal Kombat and you've only one once.

“Hey! You said you'd let me win,” He's laughing, not even letting your character get up before the large K.O. letters appear on the screen and his person is giving their little victory remark. A dramatic huff leaves your lips, the controller being tossed to the side to cross your arms over your chest.

All he wants to do is lean in and kiss that pout off your lips. Has wanted to kiss you since he beat you in table tennis. You're so pretty and he can't hold back from moving closer to you, guiding your movements just so he can have an excuse to touch you. And he doesn't miss the way you blush. The cute giggles that you let out when he flirts with you. Making him want to flirt with you more just so he can hear the sound.

“I tried,” He speaks through a laugh, taking in the skeptical look on your face. “I did! You're just so bad,” His eyes watch your fingers move around the controller, switching the screen to the character choice.

Gasping when his words sink in, landing dainty punches onto his shoulder. “You're mean! Rematch. I'm not bad,” Jungkook's pressing start on the game as soon as you both have picked your characters, leaning back against the couch as he instantly starts trying out combos on you.

Your whines and protests are cute. It's all he can focus on when he's supposed to be paying attention to the game. And the shout of triumph you let out when you're managing to knock his character down squeezes at his heart, he can't help but turn to look at the smile on your face.

“Look at you losing!” He's sure his health bar is at the end by now, but he can't tear his eyes away from you. In awe, because how could someone actually look like that? So effortlessly... beautiful? 

The tip of your tongue poked out the corner of your lips, brows furrowed as you work hard to take him down. So wrapped in the game, you don't even realize that he had stopped playing. It's his luck too, no telling how embarrassed he'd be if he was caught staring. Yet, he can't bring himself to look away.

Not until you're jumping up excited, clapping for yourself and your win. “Did you see that?” Your body is whipping around, forcing a surprised look on his face. Worried that you might've caught the way he had been looking at you. “I just fucking destroyed you! You can't even say that was beginners luck, either.”

You're lifting your hand for a high five, which he's happily giving to you. His smile matching yours as you flop down on the couch beside him, thighs grazing over each other and he feels it in his chest. “Do you want a chance to redeem yourself?”

Not even a minute is spared for him to answer because you're already starting up a new round. He's got his game face on now, shaking himself out of the daze. “Can you believe I just kicked your butt?” There's this taunting look on your face and all he wants to do is lean over and kiss you.

He takes for teasing you instead. Noticing your ridge posture that he had commented on in your picture. “I don't know how,” A large hand reaches over to touch your back, your body automatically leaning into his touch. “Your form is all off, it had to be luck.” Just a bit of pressure is applying to your back and you're slouching forward.

With a laugh, you're rolling your eyes – reaching a hand back to swat his away. “Watch me beat you like this too. I'll even let you pick my character,” You've been using the same girl since you started playing while he's surfed through the entire catalog. He's taking you up on the offer, picking one of the bulkier characters that don't do all the jump moves you seem to love so much.

And you still beat him.

This time distracted by the frustrated rants from you whenever your guy doesn't do what you tell him to. Time runs out and he ends up having less on his health bar and you're taking that as a proper win, lifting your hand for another high five.

Jungkook congratulates you quietly, more so trying to figure out just what was going on inside his chest. He's had girls over before. In much more intimate settings than this... but never has he felt like his heart was about to burst through his chest. This unbearable feeling to be close to you and it's quickly becoming all he can think about.

You're just so pretty. And you look oddly sexy in your sweats. But it's not just that. There's something else that he can't really place that's pulling him to you. Making it hard for him to stop thinking about stupid things like holding your hand or kissing your cheek. Imagining if days like today were the norm and after he'd grow tired of playing games, you'd let him stretch out his head in your lap – playing with his hair.

And it has to be crazy because this was only the first time the two of you were alone. The late-night texts being all he had to back up knowing you, but at the same time, he felt like he knew you. Like he's known you well. He can't describe it either, but he's almost positive that you feel the same.

“Are you hungry? Should we order a pizza?” You've already whipped your phone out, reluctantly putting a bit of space between the two of you as you scroll through your phone. Jungkook is quick to agree, fingers moving over the buttons on the controller to switch the TV.

No idea why he all of a sudden feels so nervous. “Sure,” He's managing to mumble out, but you're not listening. Already putting together a pizza for both of you. “Do you, uhm... do you wanna watch a movie? Something on Netflix?” Your thumb is stilling on the screen at the mention of Netflix.

Yoongi's playful warning ringing loudly in your mind. 'Playing video games was just Netflix and Chill with more steps,'. But there was the chance that he was actually tired of playing games and wanted to watch a movie with you. It didn't have to be that serious, you had been going at it for hours.

“Yeah, go ahead. Pick something.” His body slouches back on the cushions, scanning through the movies halfheartedly before choosing a random one with a really long title. After tapping his fingers against the screen, the neon orange lights in the room are dimming. A comfortable warmth settling around you.

Jungkook watches as you take your time putting the order together. The beginning credits playing on the screen and he's not even paying attention, too busy with his eyes glued to you. “I got meat lovers, you like that, right?” Setting your phone aside, you allow yourself to sink into the comfort of the cushions. 

“Mmh, my favorite.” Not a lie. It really was. And the fact that you had chose it without knowing just added to everything about you that made him want to kiss you. A small smile spreads across your lips as you nod, turning your attention to the screen in front of you.

The two of you sit side by side, watching the characters on the screen, but you're not listening. It's hard to hear over the pounding in your chest. The nervous bounce of his leg as if he was waiting for something. And you have no idea what because the pizza is no where near being on its way.

A pretty girl is in an argument with her male lead, something about debt and you're trying your hardest to follow the storyline. Although, you have no idea what this movie is and why he picked it. 

It's the thick yawn from beside you that catches your attention, Jungkook's arms lifting over his head in a stretch. You don't think much of it, other than the fact that he's being a little dramatic with his stretch. Until the arm closest to you is dropping down, not at his side like it had been before but around your shoulders – gently tugging your body into his side.

“Did you just do the yawn move on me?” You can't help but laugh. Even through the darkness, you can see the pink tint on his cheeks. “Shh, this is my favorite part.” You're actually positive that he's never seen this movie before, but don't put up a fight. Instead, you let yourself lean into his chest.

He's warm. And smells like flowers. His eyes don't move from the screen as he's reaching down, soft hands reaching for the outside of your knee. Slowly, he's lifting your legs onto his lap, only glancing in your direction briefly to gauge your reaction. Leaning back when there's no sign of you wanting to move.

“Your feet are so small,” Toes curling at the random attention, you're leaning over to reach for his face attempting to pull his focus. “Don't make fun of them! What the heck?” He's laughing loudly at you, allowing you to move his head. Shifting his focus from your feet to his face.

Your fingers are cold against his warm skin, but he can't keep himself from leaning into your touch. “They're cute.” Big eyes scan over your face, smiling softly when they're landing on yours. “You're cute.”

Almost instantly, the atmosphere in the room seems to shift. And you're not sure how he did it, but the way he was looking at you, the soft whisper in his voice... you can't but melt in his strong arms. Basically sat in his lap and it's nice. Jungkook takes his time with inching forward, entering your space which has your hand falling from his face.

He's quick to replace your hand with his one your cheek, tilting your head up toward his. You're sure he's going to kiss you. It's obvious with the slight pucker of his lips, the droop of his eyes, he's tapping a rhythmic beat against your knee ten times faster than the rush of your heart. He was going to kiss you.

Jungkook was going to kiss you and it felt like you couldn't breathe. Nerves on a ten because this wasn't even supposed to be a date. And now you were in this situation and you weren't the least bit unhappy about it. You wanted him to kiss you and it's a new feeling that you don't fully understand. It freaks you out.

Just inches from your lips and your face is twisting up, head jerking back before he can reach you. “What are you doing?” Instantly hating yourself for the embarrassed look on his features that slowly morphs into a puppy dog pout.

“I was going to kiss you...” Jungkook mumbles out sheepishly, dropping his arm from your body to push his hair back. Making an effort to put some space between the two of you, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong.

Because in his mind he had done everything right. Had been making you laugh all night, set some type of mood, told you that you were cute. And you seemed to be enjoying yourself... so what was he missing?

“Why would you do that? This isn't a date, Jungkook.” The mantra that you thought you had worked into your head seemed to be slipping. Not sure when you had forgotten what this was supposed to be, but now it was all rushing back to you.

The reasons you had rejected going on an actual date with him in the first place. And the realization of how stupid you were to think that this was a proper substitute for it. No matter what you decided to call it, it didn't erase the fact that this... tonight, with him... felt like a date.

And it wasn't supposed to.

“Do you kiss all the people you just hang out with?” It's wrong to put the blame on him and only him, but you can't help it. You're a mess in your head for a plethora of reasons, because it had been obvious. How he was looking at you, his arm around you, your legs in his lap... everything that you decided to ignore.

But in the same breath, he told you this wasn't a date... so why bother with all sweet shit. Turning movies on for one reason. Maybe you were reading too deep into all of this? Maybe you were overreacting. Jungkook didn't act like his friends when he was with you, maybe he was really different.

“Oh, come on, Yn... are you being serious?” He doesn't look all too embarrassed anymore, just a little bit sad from the rejection. It's fine, though. He'll live. “Dead serious, Jungkook. You got me here saying this wasn't a date. You need to stick to that,” You felt strongly on that part.

You had told him you didn't want to go on a date with him and even though this 'not date' was literally the same thing, he shouldn't act as if you had said yes to a date. Right? He should keep his word, that way things wouldn't get messy. Like right now.

Jungkook seems to put it together in his head, nodding his head in agreement – yet, the pout doesn't leave his lips. “Alright, alright. Fine. My bad,” He's tugging at the rolls of fabric on his sweats, avoiding eye contact with you. Dark hair covering his eyes, all you can really see is the pink of his lower lip.

And you feel bad, even though you know you shouldn't. It's not like you would've hated kissing him. It was just too nerve-racking to think of doing right now. You didn't quite understand it yourself, so there was no way you could go and explain it to him.

Instead, you're extending a finger. Poking the tip of your nail into his knee. “Don't pout. Come on, you'll miss the best part.” Referring to the movie that you're both watching for the first time, but it has a smile pushing onto his lips. His head lifting and gaze shifting onto the TV screen.

“Sorry,” He mumbles out after a moment, but you're not sure if he's apologizing for the almost-kiss or something else. Either way, you're flashing a genuine smile in his direction, lifting a hand to playfully shove at his shoulder. “Don't worry about it. It's fine,”

It really was.

— known for your body and surrounded by rumors about your sex life… rumors that he doesn’t think to doubt. until he’s meeting you… forced to realize there’s much more to you then the thonged shorts and lacy costumes.

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

[spookysmujer]

Piensa En Mi, O. Diaz

Summary: The relationship with you and Oscars suddenly ends after he gets locked up. Now it’s 4 years later..

warnings: HELLA angst, heartbreak 

word count: 1.9K

a/n: I had an itch to write today, thank you for requesting babes! Sorry it took this long to get done. I hope everyone is doing okay these days. PSA: Stop the hate against Asians! Speak up for our brothers and sisters, please. I love you all! Please consider: following, heart/comment/reblog my content! Thank you <)

Requested by @boujee-bitches!

(gif belongs to @merakiaes)

You can remember the day you realized just how much you were in love with Oscar Diaz. It was a few months into dating, he had been in and out of town on Santo business, and yet still was able to check in with you. He even sent you doordash multiple times. And in that one moment, as the doordash driver stood at your door, carrying a bag of your favorite pastrami sub, you truly felt your heart bleed for Oscar. The feelings entirely mutual with him. You can remember that exact moment you felt it, just as you remember the moment your heart had been ripped away. 

The consequence of having such a pristine memory is the ability to remember not only the good days but the hurtful ones as well. Now, after years of being with Oscar, he’s gone. Things had been going so well with the Santos and moving up in the ranks for him. Then in a matter of seconds, all that changed. The moment those handcuffs linked his wrists together behind his back as he was  whisked away in the back of the patrol car was the day everything changed.

Change. 

They always say that change is a good thing. But whoever they are, they were wrong. Change is malicious, it’s life-consuming and does nothing but harm. In the beginning you were confident everything would be okay. Nothing could break this man, he has been through the highest highs and the lowest lows. He has endured things as a young child that no child should. Even when the judge has sentenced him to 8 years, the look he gave you said: It’ll be okay, mamas.

For the first few months, things were good. The money he would send to you, you’d put on his books regardless of his wishes for you not to do so. The phone calls that didn’t last nearly as long as you wanted it to. And the letters, even if you talked on the phone and visited him often, Oscar still wrote you letters, and he always drew something for you. 

But it began to get difficult. When school started up in the fall, your full-time job and now taking care of his younger brother, you started to miss calls, needed to reschedule visits. And when you would answer, Oscar would give you the cold shoulder. He realized that you were beating yourself up for trying to juggle everything. He hated himself for making you so stressed just to make it to him. So on a surprise call that you weren’t expecting, he broke it to you that dating while he is incarcerated is foolish of you. It’s a waste of your time. Please take care of yourself and Cesar, we’ll see where we are when I’m out. But for now, it’ll be just me.

That day replays in your mind. No more calls, rejected visits, ghost letters. It felt like he died, though you would have been notified of it if that was the case. But that was 4 years ago, everything had changed and according to Cesar, it’s about to change again.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” You ask, after holding your breath. Spooky gets out tomorrow. 

Cesar shovels the rest of his cereal in his mouth and gulps down the remaining milk, rushing around the kitchen and gathering his school things, “Oscar. He gets out tomorrow. His sentence reduced to half the time, remember the hearing they had last week?”

Whenever Cesar would talk about his older brother, you would tune it out. Oscar breaking up with you over the phone without a thorough reason, then dropping you as a person all together really broke you beyond repair. But you had no choice but dust off your shoulders and keep going. 

You hum and nod, packing your lunch.Without saying anything else, you head back to your room to get your things ready for work. As you pass by the room that Cesar had taken residency in, you notice the packed bags. “Cesar!” 

But by the time you make it back to the kitchen, he has already left out the door. Was he about to leave? Did he want out now that Oscar will be out? Though the idea was to care for Cesar while his brother was locked up, to know he is already ready to up and leave, hurts you. But you shake it off, Oscar is coming home, shit. 

Your day goes by painstakingly slow. All you could think about is how it would go when you’d see him again, how will you feel? What about him, what will he feel?

“Y/N, did you hear me?” Cesars voice sounds from across the table, the two of you enjoying some take-out. The day has gone from slower than a sloth to as quick as sonic the hedgehog.

He stares at you, waiting for you to respond. “Now that Oscar is getting out, it’s time for you to head on back home. Yeah, I heard you. Just sucks is all, I feel like my daily routine will be all messed up.” You joke to which he grins at. 

The next day comes by in a blink of an eye. Here you are leaning against your car that is parked in front of Oscars house. You can’t bring yourself to walk up those stairs and face him. But he hasn’t exited the house yet, you wonder if he even will. After Cesar gets the last bag is when you hear the front door. He makes his way towards you, your breath getting stuck in your airways. 

Cesar hugs you and thanks you again, you squeeze him and ask that he doesn’t be a stranger. Then there stood, you and Oscar. He stares at you for a long moment, studying you. It’s been nearly 4 years since he’s seen you. You are the same with little differences here and there, “You finally pierced your nose.” He points out. 

You purse your lips and nod, scoffing and looking him in the eyes, “Almost 1,300 days of not talking to me and seeing me…. And my nose ring is the first thing you say to me?” 

It wasn’t the plan to argue, you wanted to ask him to be kind to Cesar and take care of him then be on your merry way. But being in his physical presence now, it’s made your blood boil. How could he stand there like nothing had happened between you? The history you two have was an epic love and heartbreak but by the look on his face, it’s as if you are a stranger in passing. 

He licks his bottom lip and digs his hands into his shorts pockets, “What you want me to say? I said all I needed to that day on the phone.”

Your arms uncross from over your chest and your mouth falls slightly open. But before you can let out the rage that’s been building up continuously over the years, “I miss you, querida.” He watches your face contort to confusion then back to anger. He nearly smiles to see that you are still the hot head you’ve always been.

The words weren’t coming out as you wanted them to. All you could do was stomp past him to leave but he grabs your upper arm to stop you. You look down to where his hand wraps around your arm then up to his eyes, the look you give him is loud enough for him to let go.

“Can you just listen to me? You think I wanted to break things off? That it didn’t hurt me just as much as it hurt you?” Oscar begins, standing directly in front of you and slightly craning his head down. “I fucking hated that I did that to you, mami. The last thing I want in this world is not being with you, to cause you pain and to have done that when I was locked up? I hated it. Every single day. But I needed to do it because all I was doing was holding you back. I couldn’t bare knowing that I was making your life hard.”

An eruption of laughter sounds from you, you hold your stomach and one hand clamped over your mouth, hunching over from how hilarious you find his last sentence. Though anyone else hearing it wouldn’t really laugh, seeing as it wasn’t a funny statement. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. But do you hear yourself? You thought breaking up would be better. I don’t know if there was ever a time during our relationship prior that I made you feel I couldn’t handle something like you being locked up, I am terribly sorry if I had but I thought I proved to you that I was more than in love with you, I was hopelessly devoted to you, I was willing to endure it all, every call or visit. I was ready to work hard to make sure you could make tienda… but what did I do or what did I say to make you think otherwise?”

Oscar feels the chains on his heart tighten with every word you say. He doesn’t know what hurts him more, the break-up or now knowing how worthless it made you feel. He knows you are an understanding person, but his intentions didn’t settle as he hoped it would. 

It takes all his might to resist pulling you into a hug, With how you reacted to his touch just moments ago, he knows a hug would only result in profanities being spewed out. As if a hug could magically glue the pieces back together and fix it all. “You didn’t do shit wrong, Y/N. You were the epitome of a down ass girl. But all I could see was the tiredness in your face when you would visit me because you were playing mother to Cesar meanwhile trying to juggle everything else. Trying to make sure you would always come to see me… so I thought ending everything would be better, I thought you would be better off.”

The rage and ache in your heart fights against each other. He is saying one thing but to you its processing as nothing but an excuse. You want to yell and thrash your fists against his chest so he can feel just a sliver of what you went through. 

“I was better off with you. It didn’t matter to me what we were going through Oscar… If it was something joyous or something scrutinizing, as long it was with you and we were together, I wanted it all with you. I was ready to go through this journey with you. But you just gave up on us like that.” You snap your fingers and blink away the tears that had begun pooling for sometime now. His shoulders cave in and he dips his head down, unable to keep his eyes locked onto yours. 

“Give me a chance to prove that I haven’t given up on you or us.”

You wanted to laugh again. To point and scream how silly he sounds and to catch the circus act before they leave town but the way he says it is the reason you didn’t. How low his voice is, how soft his eyes are and his walls had dropped to below sea level is what made you stand so incredibly still.

Do you take the chance? Should push aside all the vines and roots that have grown over the chest labeled: Oscar, to let him in again? 

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss @princesstiffxoxo @firebenderwolf @mbaku-babygirl​ @chellybear98 @multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-wanna-live-gc @roury66 @lillict @tinylumpiaa @prettymya3 @starrynite7114 @aneitii @b3mybunnybaby  @angelxfics  @spookysbabymama @kkim120 @ladylj @vayagrxce @irenne-stans @boujee-bitches @blessedboo @lidumiw @morenokatt @gltrpzy (please let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

[yelenasdog]

moving out, moving on (mitch rapp x fem reader)

genre: fluff

summary: mitch and reader are taking another step towards mitch moving on, and it’s bittersweet.

words: 2.2k

warnings: drinking wine, kinda suggestive at times, talks abt katrina, mitch being emotional, my writing being melodramatic LOL

a/n: so. this was written during an all nighter that went to 7 am where i was listening to nicki minaj and eminem (???) for a good duration of it so. i’m very sorry if this is wonky at times! i hope u enjoy either way! mwah 

🥍🥍🥍

The early morning rays streamed through thin fabric, draped above the assassin's window. Dust particles floated about, becoming visible within the section of light cast from the sun. The birds perched outside the small apartment tweeted happily from their branch, their songs beautiful. 

Though, they were quite pesterous to the pair that lay together, wrapped in gray sheets. They reveled in the heat provided by the soft blanket, but even more so by the warmth from their joint bodies.

A mop of dark brown hair stirred, bringing one hand up to softly rub his eyes with his knuckle, the other hand snaking around the waist of the woman peacefully sleeping beside him. He watched with fond eyes as she lightly groaned, rolling to face away from the invasion of bright, turning towards her love. 

Mitch smiled down at her sleepy behavior, reaching out and brushing stray hairs from her forehead. He reluctantly retracted it only moments later, forcing himself out of bed to go and prepare the two of them for their big day as best he knew how: Coffee.

His sock clad feet dragged across the hardwood as he went, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and groggy-ness (a word Y/n had donned as her own, and Mitch had caught on to) still very prevalent in his entire system. 

The Rhode Island air was frigid this time of year, Mitch allowing a grin to break out on his face upon remembrance of two nights previous, just how cold Y/n had been in the arena of the Providence Bruins hockey team. Nose pink, donned in a beanie proudly showing the team's logo, well, he had found himself a new lockscreen.

He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of said groggy-ness, his body on autopilot as it made the beverages. He picked out her favorite mug from the cupboard (AKA a souvenir from Dubai he had picked up long ago) that she had adopted as her own, drinking out of it every time she would spend the night, almost like clockwork. He waited for his coffee beans to brew, scratching his stubble along his jaw. He flinched, though, when he felt two arms wrap around his middle. He quickly relaxed into the embrace upon realization of who the supposed assailant was, her head finding its way to rest on his bare shoulder.

“You scared me, there.” Mitch muttered, his larger hand inching towards her’s on his waist. He closed his eyes in content and she hummed in acknowledgment. Mitch allowed her to turn his figure to face her, still residing in her arms, seeing a bright smile plastered across her face.

“Only for a minute though, right?”

She laughed to which he chuckled in response, nodding in false surrender. “You’ve got me there, Y/n/n.” He mused, his eyes lighting up at the sound of the coffee machine beeping. He looked back to her, shrugging.

“I made you coffee, was gonna bring it to you in bed but, y’know.” He gestured to where she had now climbed up to sit on top of his counter, his sweatshirt around her that read “Brown University” across the front in large lettering pooling around her thighs.

“It’s alright, I need to get a move on anyway.” She smiled, hopping down to retrieve the mug, taking the warm ceramic from Mitch’s hands and sighing at the wondrous feeling that had spread through her whole body. She lifted it to her lips and drank, not surprised that her boyfriend had made it just the way she liked, to perfection. 

“Thank you, baby.” She commented, reaching up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Her lip curled as she pulled away, Mitch already knowing what she was going to say, a laugh bubbling up in his throat.

“Mitch! Go brush your teeth, for the love of God!” She whined, watching as he scampered off towards the bathroom, snickering all the way. She rolled her eyes, downing the rest of her beverage before following where Mitch had gone.

Once in the bathroom after rinsing her and Mitch’s mugs, she tied her hair up, undressing and turning on the water (practically scalding hot, of course). Mitch had no objections to the temperature, though, seeing as it was his last time showering with her in that apartment, and in that apartment, period. 

The whole thing felt very symbolic to Y/n, at least, seeing it as washing themselves clean for the next phase of their lives together, a sort of preparation. (Maybe not so much for Mitch, who really was just pleased for any excuse to see his girlfriend naked.)

They used generous amounts of soap, as not only were most of them nearly empty (in fact, a few were and if it weren’t for Y/n, they probably all would be), but also that they had decided to simply just buy new toiletries as a whole for their new place.

They giggled at the sight of each other, all lathered in bubbles and suds. Mitch reached a finger forward, wiping it from above her eyebrows and preventing it from falling into her eyes. Y/n brought her arms around his neck, her lips connecting with his. “Much better.” She regarded with a smirk, before leaning back in.

Nearly 40 minutes later, they both emerged from the shower, fresh faced and ready for the day ahead. He didn’t have a lot that needed to be packed up, given that his place came fully furnished, so it took all but 2 hours and 5 boxes to pack up Mitch Rapp’s life. It honestly might have taken even longer than originally would have been needed, as Y/n would stop every time she found something interesting, allowing Mitch to tell her all about whatever stories had been connected to the item.

It had started with the ridiculous bird lamp that sat on his bedside table, once belonging to Mr. Nazir, and ended with his lacrosse stick. (And, a promise that one day, he’d show her how to play. He swore he’d never seen her smile that big.)

They also threw away and donated a lot, some of Kat’s old stuff bringing a pained smile to his face as he would place it in a box simply labeled “Kat” in messy, thick letters. He wasn’t sure if the box would end up in his new closet, covered in dust and unopened, or back with her family. But either way, he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to her completely, which Y/n was able to understand.

“Mitch? Did you pack away your coats already?” Y/n called out, opening up the closet near the front door. Her breath slightly hitched in her throat upon seeing all of the photos of Mansur, still pasted to the painted wood, the edges curling up. 

“Nah, not yet, I was gonna handle that while you worked on the cupboards” He responded, busying himself with a text from Irene on his phone wishing him good luck. He looked up and saw what she had been asking about, his phone quickly sliding into his pocket as he made his way over to where she stood, visibly distressed. 

“How long have these been here?” She questioned, feeling Mitch’s arms wrap around her shoulders. She brought her hands up to grasp onto his wrists, leaning backwards into him and biting into her lip.

“Since the beach, when I decided to go after Mansur. When everything happened with the CIA, it was kind of a whirlwind, I didn’t really have enough time to even think about taking it down when I was only even here for hours at a time.” He lightly chuckled, watching as she stepped forward and began to take the pictures down, crumbling them up in her hands. 

She ran her fingertips over the indents left in the door, feeling the splinters against them. She turned back to Mitch, quipping how “Mr. Nazir won’t be too pleased about that.” 

He smiled, joining her in taking all of the images down, ripping them or balling them up in his fists. All of them ended up in one of the old Target bags they had been using for trash, filling up an entire bag (minus a few Dunkin cups sitting at the bottom).

Mitch trailed a few tender kisses down the left side of her next, and though it sounds cheesy, a feeling of hopefulness flooded himself out of most of the bitterness that had been stuck inside for so long. 

She turned her head to catch his lips with her own, and smiled into the kiss, her hand finding the back of his head. She lightly tugged on the chocolate colored strands and he groaned in content, to which her grin only widened. She pulled back, ruffling the top of his head before beginning to pack away the remnants of what was left in the closet. He rolled his eyes, following suit.

They had piled all of the boxes into the back of Mitch’s old decommissioned CIA vehicle (which was obvious that is was such, given that the side was littered with bullet holes and metallic scratches), returned the key to Mr. Nazir (who was glad to see Mitch go), and with that, they were off.

The new place wasn’t too far away, the pair taking a page out of Stan’s book and opting for a wonderful sense of privacy. It was nestled in a rural corner of Massachusetts, where Mitch would be able to come home to a sense of serenity. Y/n had already moved in her possessions, Mitch’s items being the last step. They’d also furnished the cozy cabin, trips to IKEA and Urban Outfitters (along with several other over-priced boutiques) making the place feel like a perfect fit for the couple.

Mitch’s strange and varied knick knacks made the house feel like a home, his lacrosse stick finding a new home by the front door, right under a hanging potted plant that Y/n and Mitch had decided to affectionately name “Charles” after a drunken night watching the X-Men movies. The house was littered in plants such as Charles, in fact, with Mitch’s first response to seeing all of them being “Wow, looks like a greenhouse in here.”

(Still, he’d grown to love the plant babies. Trust me.)

Two tired smiles made their ways to their faces as they both sat on their new sofa, admiring a job well done. Though several boxes still lay on the hardwood, unopened, they felt accomplished enough to pull out a bottle of wine that they had been saving for the occasion. It was an early housewarming gift from Stan, to which they were unprepared to take advantage of, it seemed.

“Baby, did we unpack the wine glasses earlier?” Mitch questioned, his mind slightly foggy of the day's events and early start.

“No, I think they’re still packed up.” She replied, to which Mitch’s eyes lit up, an idea forming and an imaginary lightbulb popping up over his head. He got up from his seat, a wide smile spreading across his face. Her expression mirrored his own, with an added quirked brow at his antics.

“I’ve got a solution, wait here.” Mitch responded, padding over to where he had remembered the new home of the mugs to be. Upon realization of what he was doing, Y/n smiled, rolling her eyes and bringing a hand up to run through her roots.

He shuffled back over moments later, his girlfriend recognizing one of the mugs in his hands as her favorite. He sat down next to her, with the bare skin of her thighs touching his own, jean clad. He bumped his knee to hers with a giggle, pouring out the Pinot Grigio into the mugs. 

She gratefully accepted it as it was handed to her, smiling as she took a sip. Mitch did the same, the two of them leaning back into the soft sofa. Y/n brought her legs up, cuddling into his side and absorbing his warmth. He brought his free hand to her side, a strong hold giving them both a strong sense of comfort as she lay her head on his shoulder.

The box labeled “Kat” remained unpacked along with the others on the floor, dust already beginning to gather. Mitch had come across it a few times that day, each time more thoughtful than the last as he struggled to decide what it was exactly he was feeling towards the objects; or perhaps towards the memory of Katrina.

He had come to realize that it was acceptance he felt, deep in his stomach, settling down. It had been brought upon him in totality over time, today’s events being the final step. A soft smile spread across Mitch’s face, a single tear falling from his eye. Y/n looked up, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Mitch, are you alright?”

He leaned down, connecting their lips in a watery yet nectarous kiss, his hand beginning to rub small circles on her shoulder. 

“Yeah, Y/n/n.” 

The fire they had built earlier was roaring, now, casting a warm glow across the pair’s features. The damp trail down his cheek was highlighted, nearly glistening on his skin like an amber. 

“I’m doin’ just fine.”

🥍🥍🥍

ok btw ik that wine in mugs would be a horrible idea but this is fiction so SHUSH

anyway i hope yall enjoyed! i love writing for mitch and i have lots of future fics for him, so if u liked this, please reblog and follow if ya wanna. mwah, go drink water and have some protein <333

 xx hj

[pftones3482]

Little Things About Season 4 That I Love Too Much To Convey (in no particular order):

The scene between Max and Dustin in his bedroom after she sees that Chrissy has been murdered - they really haven't had a ton of platonic scenes together in the show, and I love their friendship

Robin so casually talking to Steve about her love life and him being just so GOOD about it

The way Nancy looked at the Scoops Troop gang (+Max) when they got out of the car while she was talking to the cops

Every Will and El interaction in that first episode

The realization in Mike's eyes when he figured out why the pen didn't work

All of them swearing on Dustin's mom while Steve had a broken bottle to the throat

The entire Kate Bush scene - the lighting, the music, the emotion, the way Lucas, Dustin, and Steve were circled around Max at the end (I missed the four of them sm)

The pained look Lucas gave when he walked into Hopper's cabin

The way the parents all looked to each other at the town hall meeting for the love of god someone TELL THEM what's going on

Steve Harrington ripping a demon in half with his bare hands and then spitting blood - excuse me, bisexual coming through

Murray full on destroying everyone with his karate skills

The new chief of police??? Finally realizing why Hopper was so fucked up all the time bc what the fuck is going on in this town

The entire scene where Steve is underwater idk man I can't explain it

The whole scene with the teenagers in the Upside Down in Nancy's house communicating through the Lite Brite with Dustin, Max, Lucas, and Erica - it was so gorgeous???????

Erica Sinclair

Mike and Will apologizing to each other

The scene where Jonathan is stoned out of his mind and Murray is trying his damnedest to hold it together cause he knows exactly what tf is going on

Robin being baffled by the tiny ballerina

Also Robins feminist tirade that was also golden

Nancy and Robin being friends overall like yes please

The fond little smile Steve gives when he hears how much Dustin talks about him

Nancy and El's shared memory sequence that was so fucking cool

Max reading her letter to Billy's grave

The quiet rivalry between Dustin and Mr. Wheeler is still funny bc Mrs. Wheeler KNOWS it's there and she just bites her lip and let's it continue cause she thinks it's hilarious

Hoppers face when he tastes peanut butter for the first time

The Byers and Mike just appearing in Suzie's window and she's like 🙄🙄🙄 "are u hecking kidding me"

The relief on El's face when she sees Sam on the highway

Going back but during the flashback sequence with Max, her one scene with Mike being in there just felt so wholesome and good

The teenagers riding the bikes in the upside down paralleled with the kids riding bikes in the real world

Steve grabbing every single object in his vicinity to use as a weapon

Lucas: "Wow Steve's gotten really hairy" Max, popping up out of nowhere and stealing the binoculars: "Let me see" *deafening silence while she stares*

The scene at the table with all the prisoners while Hopper is telling them what they're about to be fighting

Mom Steve Mom Steve Mom Steve

There's more, but these are off the top of my head my favorite things

[the-iceni-bitch]

Hi love! I spun the wheels for your 3k celebration and here are my results :)

- one night stand/anonymous sex

- bryce langley

- i’m here to fuck your brains out

- i’m not here for small talk

- tell me why i just found them in your drawer

Ok, ok, ok. I can so see this for Bryce! And I was a little unsure how I was going to fit in the third prompt but I think I'm happy with my solution.

Straight smut and semi soft!dark (non-con panty stealing, stalking), so no minors!!!

God, you hated charity events.

If you had to listen to one more rich asshole talk your ear off about the plight of the white man you were going to jump off a balcony. The complete lack of self awareness as they wrote giant checks to help feed starving children in third world countries would have been laughable if it wasn’t so depressing.

At least there was an open bar, which you were taking full advantage of. You weren’t entirely sure how many whiskey sours you had tossed back, but you were actually laughing while some salt and pepper asshole who was definitely having a midlife crisis regaled you with stories of sailing around the world. Maybe you should slow down.

“Christ’s sake, Dick, you lying to another pretty thing about sailing to Brazil?” You felt a warm hand on the small of your back and turned to see a very pretty, younger man smirking at the dumbass who was trying to impress you. “He barely made it to South Carolina before running back with his tail between his legs.”

“Oh no!” You fully turned away from the older man with a sloppy grin, placing your hand on the new guy’s chest as you giggled. “That’s so pathetic.”

“Uh, excuse me.” Dick did not look happy with this turn of events, pouting when you glanced at him sideways.

“Go back to your disappointed wife, Dick.” The way his eyes were raking over you made you shiver, arousal flooding your panties as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

“It’s Y/N.” You gasped softly when he stepped closer, his hand running up your spine until he was running his fingers through your hair. “Yours?”

“Bryce.” His lips brushed against yours and your knees buckled, your hands gripping his lapels to keep yourself upright. Yeah, you definitely should have slowed down. You had never come apart so fast for anyone in your whole, kinda slutty adult life.

“Hi Bryce.” How were you supposed to focus on anything when his mouth was tracing your jaw like that? “Um, enjoying your night so far?”

“Listen, gorgeous, I’m not here for small talk.” He pressed you even closer and leaned forward so he could murmur right in your ear. “I’m here to fuck your brains out.”

“Oh.” Your voice was upsettingly small. “Cool.”

Neither of you said anything for the next two hours. Not when he had you pinned to the wall in the corridor and devoured your mouth with his while the two of you dry humped each other. Not when he drove the two of you through the city in his Porsche at an inadvisable speed while you swallowed greedily around his cock. Not even when he ate you out like a starving man while you were sprawled across the stairs to the second level of his penthouse apartment, but that was mostly because he had shoved your panties in your mouth to gag you.

You finally made it to his bedroom and he ripped your dress down your shoulders, leaning back to let you step out of it while he worked on stripping off his tuxedo. The tiny huff you let out when he tossed you on the bed made him grin, each small wanton sound that feel from your lips only serving to make his cock ache even more. And, god, what a fantastic cock it was. You practically started drooling when he finally stepped out of his pants and you got a good look at it, it had been to dark in the car for you to really appreciate just how yummy he was.

“Wait, Bryce.” You placed a hand on his chest when he bent over you, not wanting to lose yourself in another one of his kisses before it was too late. “Condom?”

“Are you fucking serious?” He looked slightly annoyed when his eyes met yours, but you weren’t backing down from this one. “You didn’t seem to care about a condom when you were swallowing my cum an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well I can’t get pregnant from swallowing.” You murmured, trying not to moan when you felt his shaft ghost over your clit. 

“Aww, pretty thing like you isn’t on birth control?” The smirk he was giving you was absolutely wicked. “That seems awful irresponsible.”

“Bryce, ah, shit.” His mouth started tracing your throat and made it very difficult to stay firm in your stance. “I’m serious, if you don’t have a condom, I’m pulling the plug.”

“C’mon gorgeous, I just wanna feel you.” He flicked his tongue out to lap up an errant bead of sweat and grinned at the whine you let out. “What if I pull out?”

“Oh god.” You were practically suffocating from the attention he was lavishing on you, finally grabbing his hair and yanking his head up so you could look him in the eye and regain some control of the situation. “No condom, no pussy.”

“Ugh, fine!” He pouted when he rolled off you, pulling his nightstand drawer open and drawing out a small foil packet. “Happy?”

You just grinned at him when he knelt between your legs again, brushing you fingers over his nipples and running your knees up his sides while he rolled the condom over his length and scowled at you. That scowl disappeared pretty fast when he gripped your hips tight and pulled you down on his length, his eyelids fluttering as a low groan left his throat while he curled over you. 

When his hips finally met yours you dropped your head back against the mattress, locking your heels together at the small of his back and letting him nip at your throat as he started moving his hips. It was just enough to drive you crazy, but all you wanted was for him to fuck you like an animal until you were screaming.

“Goddamn it.” You dug your fingers into his scalp and yanked his face back up to yours. “I thought you said you were gonna fuck my brains out.”

The only warning you had was his feral snarl and the way his pupils dilated even further and then every thought was flying out of your head when he bent you backwards and shoved your chest into his face, his teeth digging into your soft flesh and making you scream while his hips started slamming into you violently. 

His teeth were marring the soft curves of your chest as he fucked into you viciously, the tip of his cock punching you in the cervix with each brutal shove. It barely took anything for you to come apart with a sharp cry, your vision whiting out as your entire body tightened around him. The way he was holding you to him had your body bent in a series of odd angles, making every wave of pleasure that coursed through your system feel a thousand times more intense. 

Your orgasm didn’t even faze him, his hips still pistoning into yours at a wild rhythm that pushed the breath out of your lungs until you were a panting mess. He just kept sucking and biting at your breasts, the skin of your chest slick with your sweat and his saliva as your cunt throbbed around him.

One of his hands moved under your hip and tilted you so he could somehow drive into you even further and a coil you hadn’t even realized was gathering snapped. Your body jerked frantically underneath him, your pussy clenching around him so hard he couldn’t stop himself from filling the condom with a muffled growl. 

“That good enough for you, gorgeous?” He was grinning wickedly when he lifted his face to gaze at you. “C’mon now honey, did I fuck you stupid?”

“No.” You panted, returning his smile when he moved to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. “But maybe we should go another round so you can try again.”

“Oh, I knew bringing you home was a good idea!” He called from the bathroom. “I’m gonna turn that pussy out.”

You were still smiling when you moved to grab another condom from the nightstand, your face freezing when you got a look at the pair of soiled panties that was nestled inside. That wasn’t totally weird, lot’s of guys probably kept little souvenirs from their sexual conquests. 

What was weird was that they looked an awful lot like the panties you thought your washer had eaten a few weeks ago, and when you picked them up to examine them closer you felt bile rise in your throat when you spotted the tiny rip you had told yourself no one would notice because of the pattern of the lace.

“Bryce.” You rose on unsteady legs and staggered to the bathroom, confusion and fury coursing through your veins. “I’ve been missing these for weeks, tell me why I just found them in your drawer.”

“Ah, fuck.” He only looked mildly perturbed when he got a look at what you had clutched in your fist. “Why’d you have to go snooping, baby?”

“Don’t call me baby, how did you get these?” Your chest was starting to feel tight as panic took over your system. “Have you been in my house?”

“Do you really need me to answer that, Y/N?” 

You realized you didn’t. You’d noticed weird shit happening for a few weeks. Things not being where you’d left them. Pieces of clothing missing. Weird deliveries of flowers or fancy pastries from a supposed secret admirer that you just chalked up to the slightly creepy guy who had been flirting with you at work.

“But, why?” You had never even seen Bryce before tonight, this didn’t make sense.

“I saw your photo from the save the polar bears, or whatever, event last month in the Times.” His shrug was dismissive as he started stalking towards you. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so beautiful looking so annoyed at one of those things. Mostly because they’re all hookers.” He didn’t seem to mind that you were in the middle of an anxiety attack, wrapping an arm around your waist and shushing you softly as you started to cry. “But you weren’t a hooker. You were a little spitfire. Everything I found out about you just made me want you more, which reminds me, you’re gonna need to make some serious updates to your online security settings.”

You were sobbing into his chest now, only barely registering what he was saying as he moved a hand up to run through your hair absentmindedly.

“I still remember the first time I was in your house. I admit, I lost myself a little once I was in that cute little bedroom of yours, thought for sure you were gonna notice how messed up your sheets were after I jerked off in your bed.” You cringed against him at that admission, you were pretty sure you remembered that day. “It was so hard to keep myself from just taking you right away, but I wanted to make it organic. You know, have our relationship grow and evolve the right way.” He gripped your chin and tilted your head back so he could glare into your eyes. “Then you had to go and ruin it.”

You whimpered when he suddenly lifted you and started to carry you to the bed again, your body frozen in shock. He basically threw you onto the bed, the look of rage on his face softening slightly when he watched you curl around yourself then climbed in next to you. 

“Oh, shh, it’s ok, honey.” He cooed against your hair, stroking your arm softly as you continued to cry. “I forgive you. I’m gonna make you so happy.”

[shurisneakers]

shut in [12]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, ptsd, abuse, death

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: two more chapters to go after this + an epilogue i haven’t written yet fdkjghdfkhg. things pick up next chapter don’t worry. i’d love to know your favourite parts so far if you have any!!

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

Your first home, from what you could remember, was the overcrowded hall you shared with kids in and around your age. 

There was too much noise. Always too much noise. 

Even when the children were in their classes, there was always someone whose cries you could hear in the distance when they realised they had nowhere else to go, peals of laughter during lunch breaks, excited whispers when someone came to visit, nervous excuses when belongings went missing.

The orphanage you were brought up in was no place for a child. It was underfunded and an utterly miserable sight. But you made your first friends there. A fiery redhead and a boy who resembled a puppy with his shiny blonde hair and blue eyes. Their names escaped you now. 

Within structured schedules and learning to stow away candy left behind by volunteers so that they weren’t taken away by others, you found relief. You didn’t have a family. Caregivers came and went more than the seasons changed. But maybe what the girl and boy gave you came close. As close as six year olds could get, anyway. 

They were picked before you. The red head left first, and a few months later was the last you saw of the boy. You often wondered where they were, how they were doing. You never truly got answers, but it wasn’t like you went searching. 

You waited another year. They didn’t return. By then a man with a leather jacket who suspiciously wore sunglasses indoors had filled out the paperwork for you and two other kids. You had never interacted with them before until then. A few years down the line you were the only one of the three that remained anyway.

Your second house was in a dark hall. You weren’t allowed to roam around on your own; no one cared if you were 8 or 18. If you needed to be out of the way, you’d be out. 

The man who pulled you out of the orphanage you never saw again. A secret adoption, you found out years later, so that no one would know of your existence. All the paperwork he filled out would have mysteriously been destroyed. To the world, you never existed and outside the organisation you were simply another kid who slipped through the cracks.

He disappeared after you were introduced to another who looked to be in his late twenties. He nicknamed you Buttercup, introducing you as the newest member of his cartel. He told you you were delicate, that he’d give you purpose you didn’t think you could have.

The room was inconceivably small. It barely squeezed in a bed and a small closet with a few changes of clothes. It was dark and congested but it enamoured you. Something to yourself. You didn’t have to fight over it with others who had just as little as you.

The man let you hang around with him. He’d show you the artillery, the large fighting rings with men in them beating each other half to death, the rooms he’d hold meetings with where the lighting was a little darker than the rest. He said it made him look menacing and they needed that where he was working. You giggled.

You found a home with the man who was razor sharp and acidic but insisted it was out of love. You wanted to impress him so badly; begged him to let you in the ring, to wield a gun. He’d only shake his head no, saying that he was waiting for the right time.

For two years you were invited to see what would happen if someone disappointed him. Your first encounter with death was a man who had dared to run away. A bullet in his head later you realised that was the best way to kill someone. His favourite way. And you just wanted to be his favourite.

He didn’t take it easier just because you were ten. He only stopped them from fully killing you. 

“All these broken bones will heal,” he had said, “but you will always remember the pain. The minute you forget, it will happen again.”

So you didn’t forget. You observed and tried, and kicked yourself twice for every one mistake you made. Every time you’d look towards him for approval, he’d shake his head and point out everything wrong. You hated it. You hated it so fucking much. 

The rage you kept building had only one outlet, the one he provided. So it became instinct. It was all you knew.

 You found a home with a man you wanted to impress so bad, you never stopped to ask for what. To him, it was repayment for giving you purpose.

When you were fourteen you realised that no, the feeling in your stomach wasn’t from the previous week’s sparring session. It was butterflies. And for the grumpy new kid nonetheless. 

He was your age, but missing an arm and couldn’t remember how or why. You didn’t ask him many questions. He was silent, and a little grouchy, which you didn’t like. But you did like when he offered his hand to you after a fight and you did like the nice smile he occasionally had. 

You found a new home with his silent company and non-judgemental looks. He always seemed a little sad, like he was searching for something else. He was an excellent marksman and wasn't bad at hand to hand either.

He’d hang around your new room, one that was bigger than your initial place. You’d talk about new techniques you picked up. He talked about how he wished he remembered where he came from. 

He was a friend. You needed one. 

You remembered the night you were roughly shaken awake to the same boy saying he was going to be taken in the morning to the other centre. A permanent shift for reasons he didn’t know.

You didn’t get a chance to ask how or why, but in the flurry of him explaining that he had to go before someone noticed he left his room, he pressed a kiss to your lips in a rushed goodbye and ran back to the darkness. You were dazed for the rest of the night. You didn’t see him in the morning.

When you asked Ransone why he was gone, he mutely said that he was a distraction. You couldn’t afford one. He didn’t explain any further, no matter how much you begged.

Similar friends found themselves entering and exiting your life just as this boy did. You stopped keeping track. It hurt too much to wake up one morning to learn they weren’t there. You wondered why the influx of kids never stopped if you weren’t supposed to be friends with them. 

You realised years later that they were sent there to be ripped away from you as soon as possible. To toughen you up. 

He wouldn’t get rid of something immediately, not if it could be used to hurt you.

Your first mission was when you were fifteen. It was a small time thing; go threaten a man in his house so that he thought twice before crossing Ransone again. You did exactly as you were told, except while you were leaving you heard the cocking of a gun. You spun around and shot him in the shoulder, temporarily disabling him as you left. He cowered on the ground.

You couldn't find anyone as you stumbled back to the centre. There wasn’t a friend who you could vent to. All you had was Ransone. He congratulated you on your first shot, ignoring the trembling of your body and the redness that rimmed your eyes.

You realised that his approval didn’t mean so much to you anymore. If your only purpose was to harm, it wasn’t what you wanted. Not like you had a choice.

Then there was Scott, only brought in for minor things like breaking and entering. He was a funny one and you found yourself spending more and more time with him whenever he did show up. You pulled away when you realised that he was going to end up gone like the rest of the people when Ransone realised that you were paying more attention to him than you should.

He was a sneaky one though; climbed in during nights only to disappear by dawn before anyone saw. He was infectiously light, different from the darkness you were used to seeing. You sought out his brightness, his warmth and he happily gave it to you in unlit corridors and midnight trips that had your adrenaline spiking.

Scott lasted longer than anyone else. They didn’t consider him important enough to pay attention to and he never gave them any chance of doing it. He was, what you wanted to believe, your first love. Or what it felt like anyway, love was scarce and so you clung onto whatever he offered. 

There was a home in Scott that you wanted to keep alive. You found solace in his flustered repetitions and occasional cheesy magic trick. He made you laugh, and it lit up his face when you leaned over and kissed him gently. 

When you got the news that he was killed in a heist gone wrong, you didn’t feel anything for days. The man who broke the news to you looked at you with undertones of pity. 

Everyone knew it wasn’t an accident. 

You didn’t bring it up with Ransone and simply ignored it when he called it a good riddance even though he would be missed. If you listened to everything he said, you were afraid that you would just kill him.

It was excruciating. You didn’t have anyone to talk to. Only Ransone, as he kept reminding you.

“I’m the only one who cares about you, Buttercup,” he cooed and you clenched your eyes shut. “We’re family.”

No more relationships happened after that. Occasional coworkers-with-benefits but nothing that crossed that. You hadn’t had a friend in years, and Ransone was more than pleased to keep it that way. He was the only constant you’d had your entire life, willingly or not. 

People were placed in your way to only inform Ransone of what new updates were in your life. Once they sent whatever information he needed his way, they’d automatically be removed. Everyone had a hidden agenda. Everyone had a specific reason to want to talk to you.

You just let them. What was the point of trying to hide it? You weren’t going to escape any time soon.

“Your only home,” Ransone reminded you, “is here with me.”

You rebelled, many times. Some looked like they would last. In the end you’d return to his dingy office for your next mission because as much as you despised him for the things he had done to you, the guilt over the things he had done for you overshone. Having him as your enemy would be worse than having his convoluted sense of love shoved down your throat until you were forced to accept him. 

And that’s what it had been like until now.

You try and take in as much as you can of the house you’re standing in right now. What you used to find restrictive and a crude form of punishment, you found calming. The mundane nature of everyday life was charming. 

It wasn’t a vacation, you reminded yourself. But the same feeling of emptiness returned every time you thought of your next move.

You didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want to go back to what you once thought was a home. 

You’d eat a thousand dry peanut butter sandwiches over and over again for the rest of your life before even considering going back. You didn’t care for the lack of twenty-first century technology. 

You were feeling things you had shoved away years ago because it wasn’t a life meant for you. Now that you were forced to live it and see what it could be like not living in a fight-or-flight mode every second, you can’t see how you ever survived this long. 

But still, you had told Ransone that you were returning, and it was a promise he would expect you to uphold. 

You tried to remember as much as you can of your time here. The way the sunlight feels against your skin in the morning, the sugariness of the jelly that was basically finished, the worn out tactical clothing from the wardrobe, the leather of the couch clinging to your skin as you rewatch the same three movies time and time again.

You tried to remember the first time you were introduced to the target board, and the range you and Sam had crafted together. The path to the specific tree and back on your runs and the grass that had wilted along it from contant treading.

You sat on the porch stairs for hours, leaning against the pillar for support. The first house you lived in was too loud, the second was too quiet. But this; this was just right. 

Sam joined you eventually in the silence. You were grateful for the company. 

“Have you decided on a day?”

You nod, looking straight ahead into the darkness. “Tomorrow.”

“You sure? Our timing has to be right.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is coarse. “I’ll have to tell him.”

He nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees. He was too tall for the stairs, looking like he was crouching instead of sitting.

His voice dropped to a whisper like it’s a secret only meant for you. “In case Ransone sees me and decides to…” 

He gestured lewdly, sighing when you peer at him in confusion, “...kill me, you need to continue-”

“Stop talking,” you interrupted him quietly. You don’t even want to think about that possibility.

“It can happen. I hope it doesn’t, because it’s a waste of a perfectly good face,” he continues but you just shake your head, trying to drown him out. “Then promise me you’ll do your best to get out. This life isn’t for us, Y/N.”

“I’m not going to let you die,” you muttered. “Not this time.”

“I’m not saying I will, honey,” he continues in a hushed tone, not disturbing the silence built around you, “But it’d make me happy knowin’ that at least one of us gets a shot to live another life. And I know you make good on your promises.”

You were so tired. Of everything. Knowing that you’d be dragged back into it only made the pain sharpen.

“Scout’s honour,” you vowed. He let out a smile at the memory of the last time he used it, lifting his arm to put over your shoulder as you scoot in closer to him.

You sit like that for who knows how long. The night fell hours ago but you don’t want to let go. 

“It’s gettin’ pretty late,” he commented.

“I don’t want to go.”

“You’re gonna need some energy for tomorrow.” He’s right, but you don’t want to admit it.

“It’s your turn at the bed tonight,” you evade it. 

“You can have it,” he debated softly. If it was your last day there, then he’d do anything to make it the best one. 

You’re stuck by an idea but you weren’t sure how he’d react. It wouldn’t be a big deal on the surface but you hadn’t ever done it before.

“Would you maybe-” you trail off.

“We can share,” he finished your thought, pulling you a little closer. You needed comfort. He knew that.

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

He only pressed a kiss to your temple, letting you sit out for as long as you needed.

Calm. 

The woods provided excellent coverage while also giving him a clear sight of the house. The two of you sat on the porch together, speaking quietly to each other, out of earshot. 

It didn’t matter what you were saying now. He had already heard what he needed to hear. 

“Get ready,” the agent said hushedly into the intercom, “they’re leaving tomorrow.”

Next part

[diffind0]

missed you

A/N: so here it is, a new smut concept I thought over the weekend. I wanted to thank all of you who read the last one! It means the world to me to see how everyone liked it. I'm glad to see everyone has a dirty mind like me lol.

This is not a sequel to High, but i'm working on that. (Thinking about making it a fluff? Lmk what you think!)

Okay, now go ahead and read! Please please please let me know what you think, what you think I can improve and if you liked it or not.

Bare in mind English is not my first language please :)

Summary: Tom has been away  in cleveland shooting Cherry with the Russo Brothers and it's really *excited* to come home and see you

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, female receiving, unprotected sex (Do not follow this example please, I imagned this as the reader and Tom being a couple for a long time, but that is not excuse to fuck without protection) some bad words and terrible grammar probably.

Enjoy!

Smut below the cut

——————————————

Six months.

That was how long you had been away from your boyfriend Tom. He had been away in Cleveland filming his new movie with the Russo Brothers,“Cherry” for half a year and, to say the least, him being away was driving you insane.

You missed him. A lot.

You missed seeing him first thing in the morning, and seeing him last thing at night. You missed him making you coffee in the morning, although he always complained about you not drinking tea as a true Brit. You missed the way he smelled right after a shower, or how his pillow would be covered in his scent after he left the house. You missed hearing him talk about golf, even though you didn’t really understand the sport all that well. You missed catching him singing to random tunes that came on the radio without him noticing, because he was mortified to sing in front of you. You missed his smile, and how his eyes glowed everytime he did.  You missed every aspect of him, but the thing you missed the most, was his touch.

It was really hard being away from your really hot and really good at sex boyfriend for six months, and you felt unsatisfied. Of course you could get yourself off anytime you wanted, actually, you had plenty of toys that could help you with exactly that, and you usually facetimed him or sexted whenever the distance was too much for both of you. But it wasn’t enough to satisfy your hunger.

So when he called earlier that week telling you that he would be home by the weekend, you went out and bought the slutiest piece of lingerine you could find.

After what seemed like an extremely long week, the day had come. You drove to the airport after getting everything ready in the house for Tom when he arrived, and obviously putting on the lingerie set before stepping out the door.

You waited impatiently for him to come out for what felt like an eternity, and when he did, you ran toward him without even thinking about the paparazzi that had also heard about his arrival. He saw you running, and opened his arms to catch you with a huge smile on his face.

You jumped to his arms as soon as he was close enough, and he hugged you by your waist so tight you didn’t understand how he hadn’t ripped you in half right there.

You clinged to his neck with all of your strength, hiding your face in his neck, inhaling his scent for the first time in six months.

“Hi love” He whispered to your ear, full of love “Missed you so much” He kissed the side of your head. You looked up from his neck taking his face with both hands, scanning his beautiful features like it was the first time you had seen him.

“Missed you too, Tommy’ Was all you could say before kissing his lips passionately. He kissed you back with all of his force, not giving a fuck about the rest of the world surrounding you. You definitely would be in the covers of all of the gossip magazines the next morning.

After kissing and hugging and smiling like idiots for about thirty minutes, you finally went back to the parking lot and got Tom stuff in the trunk insanely fast. You were driving back to yours, hearing all of Tom’s stories about the film and his experience. You listened carefully, his voice filling your ears beautifly. His hand never left your thigh for the entire car ride, drawing random lines on it with his thumb.

Once you got back home, he jumped in the shower to “get rid of the plane smell”.  While he was in there, you took off your clothes, leaving your lingerie set at full display, lit a few candles around and dimmed the lights to set the mood in the room. You put on your favourite perfume, and started to rub lotion all over your body, when you hear the shower go off, and the next thing, your boyfriend was coming out the bathroom with a towel around his hips hanging incredibly low and still wet, drops of water falling down his body. He looked so fucking hot, that you were sure your mouth was watering.

“Well well well” He said after scanning your body, you were facing the wall opposite him, with one of your legs up rubbing the cream from before. “Is this all for me?”

You put your leg down slowly, making sure his gaze was following your every movement, and you turned around  “I really missed you Tommy” You simply said with your best innocent voice.

“Let me show you how much I’ve missed you too, princess” He said in a low voice, walking impossibly slow towards you, your chest raising and falling with anticipation.

When he was in front of you, he speaked again. “How much I’ve missed that mouth of yours” he said while one of his thumbs ran through your bottom lip. “That beautiful long neck” His hand moved to grab your neck firmly, being followed by his lips, placing a gentle kiss on each side of it. “And those little hands, touching me” You got the message, and placed one of your hands in his chest, running it down to his abs. You felt his muscles contract as your hands past through them, and you loved it. “But you know what I’ve missed the most, beautiful?” He asked, his hands traveling down to your waist and pulling you close to him. Your breath got caught up in your throat due to his strength. You gulped waiting for his response, already feeling yourself wet, and raised your eyebrows encouraging him to keep going. “Fucking that tight little pussy everynight”

He devoured your lips, pulling you to him by your waist, and your arms raised instinctively to the back of his neck, tangling your hands in his brown curls, making him groan pleasantly into your kiss. His tongue entered your mouth with ease, and played with yours, exploring every bit of it, like he was trying to memorize it in case he would spend this much time away from you again. He bit your bottom lip gently and then licked it to ease the pain. He knew how that drove you mad.

Your hands started wandering down his wet body, going down his torso until you found yourself  palming him through his towel, clearly feeling how hard he was getting. You took the towel off, letting it fall to his ankles, and displaying your boyfriend fully naked in front of you. You separated from his kiss to take a long look up and down. He looked incredible, his muscles showing even more than you remembered, he clearly had changed his workout routine. He smirked, noticing how you were eating him with your glance, and took one of your hands in his, guiding it to his dick. You grabbed it and stroked it for a couple seconds, watching him close his eyes and throw his head back “Fuck, love. That feels great” He said in a breathy voice. You smiled, adoring the way you were in control. You started moving your hand faster, spitting at his cock to make your job easier, and concentrated in getting him as hard as you could. You could see the precum on his tip when he stopped you by trapping your hand in his. You pouted and tried to get your grip back, but he used his force to immobilize you. “No darling, not yet.” You nodded, understanding; you were dying to feel his touch on you anyway.

Like reading your mind, he let go of your hand and played with one of the straps from your bra, letting it hang low on your arm, doing the same to the next one. He did it impossibly slow, making you groan in desperation. He smirked when he heard you, but he wasn’t about to take you just yet. After all, he had spent six months with only his hand, and now that he had you in front of him, he wasn’t going to waste it, and he was going to enjoy every second of it. He came closer to you, lowering his head to place soft kisses all over your collarbones, your shoulders, the base of your neck and finally, the mounts of your breasts. He stayed there for a moment, before unclasping your bra completely and throwing it at one of the room’s corners. He took one of your breasts in his right hand, squeezing it softly, followed by a small moan from you. He then moved to the next breast, doing the same and getting a similar reaction from you. He played with your nipples, getting them hard before putting one of them in his mouth and flickering it with his tongue. He kept playing with them, switching between his mouth and his hands, being so content with the sounds that were leaving your mouth that he didn’t want to stop just so he could hear you all night long.

“Tom” you huffed, a little annoyed

“Yes, love?” He answered, playing innocent while he kept with his task.

“Do something” you almost growled. “I’m so wet” you confessed.

He looked up from your breast, taken aback with how blunt you were. It got him harder.

“Is that so, gorgeous?” He teased a bit more. You just nodded .“Let me feel how wet you are then” A smirk formed in his lips. “Sit on the bed” He ordered.

You did just that, impatiently waiting for him to release some of the pressure that had been building for six months. Once you were sitting, he approached you, hovering over you, made you look at him from where you were by placing one of his fingers under your chin and tilting your head upwards. You kept your eyes on his, even when he started going down on his knees in front of you. Your chest was raising a falling hard due to the anticipation. He took his thumbs on either side of your underwear, and pulled them down quickly, his mouth already watering.

Your legs stayed closed out of habit, but the moment the piece of clothing was off, he opened them. He stayed there for a moment, admiring your wet pussy in front of him, and he licked his lips before placing a line of kisses from your knee to your thigh. He finally lapped his tongue on top of your cunt, giving it a long and slow lick that made you shiver. He smiled before diving in your lips again, this time taking his tongue through your entering and folds. He moved his tongue gracefully, making you whimper and moan his name more times you could count. He loved it, and he had missed your taste so much that he was taking his sweet time eating you out.

He then moved his tongue to your clit, flicking it quickly, which made you move your hips instinctively, trying to get more friction out of his face. He got the message, and took one long finger and put it past your entrance, deep inside you. The movement took you by surprise, and a loud moan escaped your lips. “Fuck, Tommy. Keep going” You pleaded, which he happily obliged. His finger came out and in of you in a slow motion, curling his finger upwards when he was deepest inside you, and his tongue never leaving your clit. He added a second finger, and you screamed, grabbing his hair and pulling it hard, which made him growl in your pussy, vibrating deliciously. His two fingers were working wonders inside you, and you felt the knot in your stomach growing bigger with every thrust of his hands. “Babe...I’m...coming soon” You let out in a breathy voice, interrupted by various moans.  

“Missed your taste so much, love” He commented, his fingers moving quickly. “Cum on my mouth” he placed his tongue once more on your clit.

And you did just that, in a matter of seconds, Tom feeling your walls clenching around his fingers, the feeling making his love for you grow even larger. After he felt you were down from your high, he collected all of your juices with his tongue, making you moan once more from how sensitive you were.

“Can’t get enough of you, Y/N” He smiled at you still kneeling, and you took his face with both hands to get him up and on top of you, kissing him ferociously. You could taste yourself in his mouth, and that was what got you wet again. You stopped the kiss to look him dead in his eyes.

“Fuck me, please” You just blurted out. He smirked and kissed you again, taking his dick and running the tip through your wet cunt, the feeling making you gasp. He entered you slowly, giving you time to adjust, cause he knows that your fingers, or his fingers, or even your toys weren’t as thick as him, so you might take a little time to accommodate. Once he was fully in you, he hissed and kissed you again. “Move. Now.” You ordered, frustrated.

“So bossy, love” He chuckled, but he obliged almost immediately.

He started thrusting his hips, impossibly deep inside you, and when he was half way out, he thrusted again. He did this several times, his forehead starting to sweat, as well as your whole body. He kept his gaze on yours, opening his mouth occasionally to let out a low moan. You on the other hand, had your mouth opened at all times, not caring if you were being too loud. He loved seeing you like this, him fucking you mindlesly, and you full of pleasure because of it.

You took your hand and drove downwards to where your bodysconnected, and started circling your clit, feeling once again the knot building in your stomach.

“So good for me, so tight” Tom took one of your legs from behind your knee and bent it upwards, so he could have a better approach, his other arm anchored above your head so he would keep steady and wouldn collapse on top of you. “So deep, babe, fuck” This new angle made him go so far inside you, that you screamed. You turned your head to the side, giving Tom full access to your neck, where he bit and marked you. While he did that, you bit his arm, hard, due to the new and long awaited pleasure you were receiving from your loving boyfriend. He moaned in your ear, and the knot in his stomach released, filling you up with his cum.

His cum flowing out of you mixed with your hand, that still circled over your clit. Tom saw this, and slapped your hand away, doing the job himself. He had you screaming in no time, your orgasm forming deep in your gut.

He shutted your screams with his own mouth, his tongue filling your mouth deliciously.

“Shit” You said once you calmed down, him still being on top of you, you pressed your hand to the side of his face, him melting in your touch and closing his eyes. “Don’t ever leave me for this long, you asshole” You said jokingly. He chuckled and kissed the inside of your hand.

“Not a chance” He said while he climbed off of you and to your side, you instantly took place in his chest. He ran his hands up and down the side of your torso. “Next time, you're coming with me, love.” He replied with a huge smile on his face.

“Only if I can get a cameo in your next movie” You joked once more. He laughed aloud, knowing fairly well that you were too embarrassed to do such a thing, and placed a loving kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes, happily feeling yourself drifting off to sleep. You thought this was going to be the first time in six months you fell asleep so quickly.

[axwalker]

Creep 2: I don’t care if it hurts

HIGH SCHOOL AU

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC  (Lexie O’Brien) Book TRR

MASTERLIST HERE

Synopsis: Drake and Lexie are star-crossed lovers. Her father hates him and forces Lexie to stop any contact with Drake. Lost and heartbroken, he “bullies” her for two years until he discovers the truth of Lexie’s behavior.

A/N 1 This came up to me after I got an ask from @nestledonthaveone​ to write a fic based on the song CREEP.

I used to hear this song when I was a teenager, so when I read this ask, I immediately wanted to write something angsty but situated in high school.

A/N 2: Because they’re younger than usual, I decided to change my  FC. 

Words: 4,110 

WARNINGS: Parental abuse, domestic violence, toxic love.

THIS IS NOT YOUR USUAL MARSHMALLOW DRAKE. He was abandoned as a boy, he’s tortured and he doesn’t know how to express his love. His behavior is not excusable.

This is a dark love story. If you’re not comfortable with it, PLEASE do not read it.  

ALL MY FICS ARE 18+

TAGS ON THE COMMENTS

As this is darker than usual; I’m only tagging the people who commented in the previous chapter. If you want to get on or off the list for this fic, please do not hesitate to ask!! 

DRAKE

Even if she never looks at me or speaks to me again, she’s mine. Even if I’ve been a horrible jerk to her for two years and she pales every time I pull into the parking lot on my motorcycle, she is mine. Just seeing her with him enrages me, so I walk straight toward my usual seat, directly behind Lexie, and slam my textbook down onto the desk.

Startled, Rys looks up at me, “Hey, Walker. What’s up?” 

It’s not the first time he tries to make a move on Lexie. Last time –two years ago, we almost killed each other. Pretty boy might be an entitled ass, but he knows how to fight. Maybe he thinks Lexie is game again after all this time. He couldn’t be more wrong. 

 “Don’t you have a class this period?” I ask him. Liam cocks his left eyebrow, adjusting the straps of his backpack. 

“I fail to see why that concerns you, Creep.”  

My smile is murderous. “Get the fuck out of here before I break your face, pretty boy.”

I think he has a death wish because he looks at Lexie when he talks, “See you after class, Alexis, when your watchdog will be busy mowing my lawn.” Finally, he just shakes his head and gets out of the classroom. I resume my daily routine. Staring at the back of Lexie’s head, tracing the curve of her perfect neck, my cock getting hard over her perfect cherry scent. 

“So that’s what you like,” I say, leaning forward to speak an inch from her ears. “You like them with blond hair and pink polo shirts. Prospects for Cambridge or shit. A huge trust fund. Don’t you? A brat like you needs someone who can spoil her. I bet you’d introduce him to daddy, wouldn’t you?” 

She doesn’t respond. She never does. Her eyes stay stubbornly on the front of the class where the teacher has started writing today’s lesson on the board—my hands fist in desperation. I’m dying for her to talk to me. To look at me. Anything. “Too bad, Lexie. I’ll scare every single one of those fucking entitled boys off. You’re going to sit alone in your house on prom night, crying into your designer sheets like a baby. And I’m going to enjoy it.” 

The only sign that she hears me at all is the quickening rise and fall of her shoulders. Even that tiny display that I’ve upset her is agonizing, floods me with self-loathing, but I can never stop. She ripped out my fucking heart, and I can’t deal with the consequences of that alone. I can’t let her go. I’ll never let her go. This toxic feeling is the only thing left between us. My hands shake with the urge to take her in my arms, to stop the trembling I caused. To protect her from everything. Even myself. I’d love to move my fingers up into the silky, brown hair that reaches the middle of her graceful neck. I don’t have a lot of money; most of the cash I earn as a handyman goes to food and fixing my dad’s cabin, but I’d give every last cent for her to turn and lock those soft brown eyes on me, just one last time. Sometimes when I jerk off, all it takes is fantasizing about Lexie looking at me, giving me one of those shy smiles, and I lose it. One stroke. Maybe two. Done. I can’t breathe without having her close. And I can’t breathe with her close. It’s a strange condition, this obsession, but she’s an addiction that I just can’t give up. 

How could I? She’s intelligent, strong, and so damned gorgeous. Once upon a time, I thought she had a good heart too. But that was before she broke my pathetic heart only because I’m poor. I’ve been hurting since then, and I need her to hurt too. To know what it feels.

“Do you actually think that dumb rich boy would be a good choice for your first time, Lexie?” I grip my desk so tight it nearly breaks down, just thinking about her being kissed –touched by someone else. “At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with Rys for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my rundown cabin door, begging me to fuck you as we both know you’d like.”

A pretty blush is starting to climb her neck. I have to take a deep breath to keep from kiss her pink cheeks. But I think if I got to touch her skin, my wall of bullshit would crumble. I’ve only fucked one girl. Since seeing Lexie for the first time freshman year, there’s been no one but her. I want no one else. She owns my cock as sure as she owns my heart. How easily she’s forgotten about both leaving me in agony. 

“Stop,” she breathes. I freeze. Did she just speak to me? It’s the first time in two years that she’s even remotely acknowledged my existence. 

“Lexie,” I managed to say. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s all it took. One pleading word out of her mouth, and I’m done. 

“Just stop,” she says again, turning her head slightly. “Please.” 

I fall back in my chair, my heart thundering on my chest. If we weren’t in the middle of class, if I didn’t feel like a monster, I would pull her into my arms right now. I’d hug her until she stopped struggling, then beg her to hit me, bruise me, make me pay for every shitty thing I’ve ever said to her. But before long, the class is over, and she’s leaving the classroom to get out of here. To put distance between us as quickly as possible—and I have no choice but to watch her because I feel physically ill. Still, I manage to get out into the student-packed hallway, my plan to apologize for being crude and a jerk and torturing her for so long. 

My head is telling me not to apologize, though. It’s telling me she deserved it for being such a snob, for breaking me, for valuing money and status like everyone else. My damned heart is telling an entirely different story. It’s insisting there is an explanation for her behavior. Am I going to apologize or not? The decision is taken out of my hands when Lexie opens her locker, and the little gift I left before class falls down. It’s a picture I cut out from our last yearbook. In the photo is a gorgeous smiling Lexie above the caption Most Likely to Succeed. Except I’ve crossed out the caption and added my own. Most Likely to Be a Trophy Wife. Watching her read it, I almost get sick right there in the hallway. Usually, she’s perfectly composed, not betraying a trace of emotion where I’m concerned—a real Ice queen. I’ve always thought she honestly didn’t care. Today, though… she’s not pulling it off. Something is not okay with her, and I don’t like it. She has to bite down on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering as she puts the photo back into her locker, out of sight, her bright eyes finding me briefly, massacring me where I stand. Betraying with one single look how much she has been affected by my actions. Christ. She hasn’t been indifferent at all.

Before I can react, before I can call her name, she’s gone, vanished into the crowd of wild students excited to be leaving for the day. And I know what I have to do. I have to see her. To apologize. To get an explanation for everything. Tonight. I’ll return to her house for the first time in two years.

LEXIE

I’ve known this was coming all day. Sitting on the couch in my living room, trying to make myself as small as possible, I watch my father pace. He rants, gesticulating noisily. This isn’t new, my father’s rage threatening me. But it’s going to be worse than usual. Business has declined for him and it’s put his temper on a trigger. Dad’s new wife, Nancy, hates to be on a budget, and she’s been spending his money like crazy all over Paris --where she’s now. When dad gets home from the office, he’s rarely in anything but a horrible mood. A tornado eating up everything in its path. Completely terrifying. At least dad’s temper makes me forget what Drake told me today, the ugly words he said to me, the boiling anger in his eyes when he looks at me. 

“Are you even listening?” The slap across the face comes as a shock because I’d momentarily disappeared into my thoughts, but the sting quickly brings me back to reality. 

“Yes, sir,” I say, my ears ringing. “I’m listening.” 

“This C on your algebra test is going to drag your whole average down.” He’s waving the test in my face. “What a disappointment you are, Alexis. Your teacher shared my disgust.” I nod solemnly, but I’m listening for the rain outside. “I guess you’re your daughter’s mother after all. A poor Mexican girl who could barely count.” It’s not true. My mom learned English and Greek by herself, and she was a great Spanish teacher in Portavira, but my father would rather die than acknowledge how smart she was. 

“Don’t talk like that about her,” I retort.

My father snorts. “I beg your pardon?” He takes a step towards me, and I can see the threat in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” I hate to be such a coward, but I know what he can do to me.” I’ll do extra credit. Something to bring my grade back up to an A.” I wet my lips. “Even if I can’t manage to raise the grade, it’s not going to show up on the college transcripts I sent off with my applications.” That’s the reason I let my focus slip a little in algebra. The finish line is in sight for everyone, and we’re just waiting to find out where we’ll be accepted for college. It’s a wonder I’ve been able to maintain my focus this long in any class, considering Walker sits behind me in every period, brooding making me feel … something. At the reminder of him, I want to close my eyes and dream about him. I replay that night in my garden when he kissed me two years ago, so tenderly and passionately, when he spoke to me so sweetly and honestly before he became the second villain in my story. Someone I dread, as much as I crave the sight of him.  

At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with that punk for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my trailer door, begging me to ride you right. 

Should I be ashamed of the way my body reacted to those words? I grew uncomfortably damp in the hard plastic chair, the center of my body clenching, seeming to beat like a heart. His breath on my neck made me shiver, head to toe. Even the way he scared off Liam Rys did something to me. Aroused me. Deeply. It got so bad that I broke the rules and asked him to stop. I can still hear him saying my name in that tortured way after. That shocked, uneven sound. Lexie. And whether I’m ashamed of myself for it or not, I know I’ll think of it when I touch myself tonight. His voice, his hands, his eyes obsess me. 

“College?” My father snorts, tearing the test in half. “You’re not going to college.” 

This grabs my attention. A horrible feeling is making me cold. “I’m…what? What do you mean? I applied to nine different schools. I have a four-point five GPA.” 

For the first time, I notice his red face is about more than just rage. There’s…humiliation. I’ve never seen him display that emotion. 

“None of the American colleges that accepted you offered scholarships.” 

“I’ve been accepted?” I gasp, sitting forward, heart pounding in my chest. “Where? I didn’t see the letters—” 

“All the mail in this house goes through me, Alexis. I read them. And you failed to get academic scholarships. You failed. Not that I’m surprised.”

 I don’t point out that his refusal to let me participate in any extracurricular activities is more than likely to blame for that. I’m too worried about what he’s saying, what this means. The blood is draining from my head, making the room spin around me. 

“Okay, I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry. But…we have money. We can pay tuition, can’t we? Or colleges in Cordonia are almost for free. I can go to any of them; I don’t have to go to NYU.” I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here. This is my way out. College is the escape route. I counted on going back to New York, but I can stay here and go to college in Cordonia City. 

“Listen to you, so quick to spend my hard-earned money—spoiled brat. And of course, you can’t go to college in Cordonia. What for? To end up being a schoolteacher like your mom? A housewife as Nancy?” He laughs bitterly. “No, you’ll stay here, and I’ll help you find someone suitable to marry.” 

I shake my head. “There’s financial aid, then. Loans or I can get a job and go to college in Portavira…” 

“You want to leave, just like her, don’t you? You’re all the same.”

 I don’t even flinch when he yanks me to my feet, shoving me into the wall. In fact, for the first time, I took him right into his eyes. And I can see the violence burning on them has nothing to do with me. It never had anything to do with how I behave, my choices, how hard I worked in school. How welcome I made Nancy feel or cooked a roast. It’s about him and his self-loathing. It’s his sickness. Not mine. I can also see that he was never going to send me to college. Because he wouldn’t be able to control me from a distance or stop me from sharing what I’ve been subjected to since my mother died. Not like he does now. He wasn’t physically abusive all the time. Especially not when his new wife is around. But she traveled often, and then he’d push me. Shove me. Slapped me several times. I’ll graduate at the top of my class for nothing. He knew I would all along. 

That’s when I realize I’m free. I don’t have money, but college is free in Cordonia. I can work, save a little and go to college in one or two years. I’ll be a writer; it’ll just take more time than I thought. “Go to hell,” I whisper. 

He steps back, giving me the momentary satisfaction of his shock. “What did you say?”

Liberated, I scream it this time. “Go to hell!” From the moment I sat down to have this conversation, I knew tonight would be worse than usual, but I’ve just bought myself a ticket to hell. Usually, I can retreat to the untouchable place inside of me as he unleashes his rage, but not tonight. He doesn’t stop at one or two slaps. He punches and kicks, and I’m present for every punch and kick. Every yelled insult. Finally, I start to get scared. I’m crawling across the carpet on my hands and knees, searching for a weapon I can use in my defense when I glance out the window and see Drake staring back at me, his face a mask of horror.

 Drake

 What I’m seeing just isn’t possible. It can’t be real. My head won’t accept it. Not until her terror-filled eyes meet mine through the window and the truth pounds on my chest, leaves no doubt that this is real life. Lexie’s father is beating her. Her mouth is bloody, one of her eyes beginning to swell, arms and legs visibly weakened. I can barely fucking process it before my body is springing into action, desperate to protect her. To put a stop to the worst thing I have ever seen. What the fuck. Scorching hot rage takes over. I kick in the front door and throw myself between Lexie and her father. His fist is raised, but it pauses when he sees me, his momentary confusion giving me the time I need to knock him out cold. It only takes one right uppercut from someone his own size, and he goes down, his blank, glassy eyes staring at nothing, mouth opened. It’s not satisfying enough.

Nothing will ever be satisfying enough. I want to kill him, destroy him, but my Lexie is struggling for breath behind me, and she’s all I can think about. Turning, I approach her, my heart threatening to jump off my chest. As gently as I can, I catalog all of the cuts and purpling skin. No. No. Who could do this to her? Who could lay a finger on her in anything but reverence? Get her out of here. Calling her name, I reach down to pick her up, but she flinches and hurries back, bringing her body up against the wall. 

“Don’t touch me!” Those words filled with fear rip the soul clean out of my body. My hands drop limply to my sides and two years come rushing back, hitting me in the chest like a hammer. Every word, every action. Everything I did to make her life harder when this is what she’s been dealing with at home? Fuck me. 

“Lexie…” My voice is as kind as I can. I feel broken. “I’m sorry. I came here to apologize. For everything.” 

She puffs a humorless laugh, testing her cut lip with the tip of her tongue. “Bet you weren’t expecting to see this.” 

“If I knew this was happening, I would have been here a long time ago. I would have stopped it. I swear Lex.” 

Her expression can only be described as stunned. Maybe even a little pissed. “You are not my savior, Drake. You are my enemy. You’ve been for two years, and I want nothing else from you now.”

 “I am not your enemy.” Those words barely make it out of me, my chest hurts so fucking bad. “Don’t say that.” 

Unsteadily, she uses the wall to try and stand. I try to help her, but she recoils, and it’s a dagger straight into the center of my throat. Nothing less than I deserve, though, isn’t it? Her distrust of me is entirely my fault. I’ve made her hate me. There has to be some way to fix what I’ve done. Please God, let there be away. But right now, my main concern is her physical safety. Knowing she’s been in danger all along is unbearable. I only decided to come here tonight a few hours ago. What if I didn’t? What if I arrived an hour later? The possibilities are going to haunt me for the rest of my life. From the floor, her father groans, shifting slightly. 

“We need to get you out of here,” I say, anxious to get her free of this place. “Now, Lexie. I need to get you somewhere safe.” 

She’s standing now. Leaning against the wall and cradling one arm to her stomach, regarding me warily. “How do I know I’m safe with you?” It’s so much worse that her question is honest. Not meant to hurt me. She honestly doesn’t know if I pose a threat. It guts me where I stand. 

“You are the safest with me,” I say thickly, cursing myself. Wanting to erase the last two years so badly, my hands shake. “Please believe me. I’d die before hurting you. I’d never, Lexie. I’d never do something like that.” 

Her father rolls over onto his back and slurs a few words before losing consciousness again. Still, the sound of the older man’s voice seems to scare Lexie, “I…maybe you can just give me a ride to…a motel maybe?” She pushes off the wall, her step uneven as she walks toward the stairs. “I need some things from my room.” 

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her we don’t have time, but I’m just grateful she’s trusting me enough to leave with me, so I don’t argue. I just wait until she’s halfway up the stairs, then tie her father’s hands behind his back with my belt in case he wakes up before we leave. I have no problem knocking him out a second time, but Lexie has seen enough violence for one night. Cautiously, I walk up the stairs toward the light coming from a room halfway down the hall. This place is a far cry from my home. It’s elegant and clean, and tasteful, but it lacks any warmth whatsoever. It’s cold, like a museum. Turning the corner into Lexie’s room, it’s time to hate myself all over again. There is nothing on the walls, none of the expensive furnishings. Just four white walls, a bed, and a dresser that doubles as a desk. Several textbooks. She looks back at me over her shoulder as if judging my reaction, and I keep my features impassive, though I’m dying on the inside. 

“What can I do?” I ask. 

“How long do we have?” 

“As long as you need.” It’s physically painful not to pull her into my arms when I’m standing this close, and she’s hurt. Sad. Yet full of more inner strength than I’ve ever witnessed in another human being. I’m lucky just to be in her presence. I fucked up royally. And if she allows me back in, I’ll never do it again. It’s probably, definitely, too much to hope for. Being allowed back in. She doesn’t even look sure about having me in her room. Let alone her heart. I was trying to protect my own heart, but I lost it instead. 

 “Um…” She closes her eyes to focus, a familiar trait I’ve seen in class countless times. “There is a black bag in the hallway closet. Can you just stuff anything into it from the bathroom that looks useful?” 

Ask me to bring you a unicorn. I’ll find a way to do it. “Sure.” We work in silence, Lexie taking things out of drawers and adding them to the bag, which I’ve left open on the floor. I add toiletries from the bathroom, and once it’s zipped, I wait, watching her hesitate in the doorway. 

“Lexie?” Conflicted chocolate eyes meet mine. 

“I can’t just leave, can I?” 

“You’re not safe here, baby,” I say softly, trying to keep the residual rage at bay because it’s the last thing she needs. Not to mention she’s had her fill with negativity from me. No more. “How long…how long?” 

She shrugs, the saddest expression in her eyes. “My mom died five years ago. Ever since then, it’s gotten worse and worse. Although I never had a chance to talk to anyone about what happened behind closed doors, you know? I don’t think a person can evolve into a monster. It’s inside him.”

 “I don’t know,” I say. “I became one, didn’t I?” 

That gives her pause, forms a line between her delicate brows. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” 

She starts to walk past me, stops, standing close enough to fill my nose with cherry. “He told me if I ever spoke to you ever again, he would hurt me. Ruin you, have you evicted. Make sure you never got hired again. I didn’t mean to…hurt you. Or hurt your feelings, if that’s what happened.” 

That revelation destroys me, sets me on fire. “Jesus, Lexie. You were protecting me? And I…I tortured you for it?” I twist the neck of my T-shirt, trying to calm down, but it doesn’t work. I’ll never be calm again “I’m so fucking sorry.” 

She glances at the doorway, then back at me, eyes closed again in that way that says she’s thinking. “All I want from you now is a ride out of here, okay? And on Monday morning, you’ll stop.” She opens her shining eyes again. “No more bullying, Drake. If you’re really sorry, you’ll do that for me.” 

Fuck. I couldn’t say one more single shitty thing to her if my life depended on it. Put me at gunpoint, and I’d rather get shot at than torture this girl for one more second. But I’m highly, painfully aware that with an end to the bullying comes an end to the possessiveness. No more scaring off guys who show interest in her. No more getting close enough in class to count the hairs on her head, to smell her sweet fragrance. And to tell the truth, I’m pretty fucking worried I don’t know how to give those things up completely. I don’t think I can physically do it. This addiction with Lexie isn’t something I can cut off. A leg would be easier to sever. But my hesitation is causing her eyes to worry. If I don’t agree to, essentially, let her go… she’s not going anywhere with me. And that means her safety won’t be guaranteed. I need it to be. More than anything. 

“No more bullying,” I say, finally. A moment later, I follow her out of the room and down the stairs, trying desperately to count the hairs on her head before I no longer have the chance.

[kikilefangirl]

Safety Net

Steve Rogers x Reader

(Word Count: 1.7k)

It was dark, but you knew movement on your property when you saw it.

Your grip on your gun tightened as you stared into the black abyss in front of you. The sound of footsteps crunching across your grass was off—different pairs of feet hitting the ground at different times. You counted more than three.

The gun wasn’t ideal. It was too much of a spectacle for the occasion. You pulled a knife out of its sheath, and sliced it through the air. You stuffed the gun into the waistband of your shorts, and crouched down. Thankfully, the intruders were too far to hear the slight groan of the floorboards under your bare feet. But they were too close for your liking.

In a strange stroke of fate, one of them moved recklessly, sprinting towards your front porch. You sprung into action, launching at them from the shadows.

You sliced a nice sized gash on the right leg. The pain caused an audible male groan, causing him to falter long enough to take advantage and place a knife to the man’s throat.

He stilled at the cold metal on his carotid.

“Y’all are either stupid, arrogant, or desperate to come here!” You called out. Your voice carried out into the darkness and the footsteps ceased. Your hostage didn’t dare struggle against you for fear of death, but how much his crew cared was unknown.

“Y/N, stand down.”

A red sphere of light formed, and none other than Steve Rogers stepped forward, bathed in its glow. You lowered the knife and your hostage bolted towards his companions.

Your focus never left Steve as you surveyed his group. The light came from the girl beside him, while none other than Bucky Barnes was on his other one.

“I have spare beds and medical supplies for your friends down in the bunker. Second door on the right.” You stated.

One by one you let Steve’s team pass you, with varying looks of venom and curiosity. When it came time to let the man himself inside, he spoke.

“Y/N, I know this—”

You cut him off with a hand in his chest.

“Not tonight, Rogers.”

You turned on your heel and left the large man standing in the doorway.

...

Strangely enough, you slept soundly for the rest of the night.

You woke up just before dawn and began cooking for your guests. If they were worth anything battle wise, Steve’s team would be up soon. You started on breakfast. Grits, sausage, the works. You imagined it had been some time since they had a proper meal. You felt eyes on your back, and chose to ignore them.

“We had nowhere else to go.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you stiffened and stirred the grits harder. Although your back was to him, you heard the floor groan under his weight. He couldn’t have been much more than a few feet away.

“You gonna look at me?” Steve asked you. His tone was low and deep.

You clicked your tongue and turned the burner down. You still had on your short shorts, tank top, and no bra from the night before. Your headscarf was wrapped around your head, a weapon just in reaching distance. You came around slowly, schooling your features into a blank expression.

“Thank you, for letting us stay.” He said.

When you finally took him in, Steve was as captivating as he was when you saw him the first time. His hair was a shaggy mess on top of his head, though. And he’d grown a beard. His eyes however, were full of the same dutiful gaze you remembered.

“You came here for sanctuary, I’m giving it.”

Don’t ask me for more.

Steve frowned and put his hand on his hips.

“Y/N. What do you want me to say?” He pleaded. You ran your tongue across your front teeth. Before you could respond, the girl from the night before emerged from the bunker.

“I’m Wanda, thank you for your hospitality.” She said. You softened at her somewhat haggard appearance. Her clothes were ripped in places, and her hair wasn’t combed out. You’d come across her file before, but only in passing.

“I just washed some towels and I’ve got fresh clothes in my closet for you, if you want ‘em.” You knew what it was like to be a woman on the run, surrounded by nothing but men. Wanda lit up at your offer and thanked you, slipping into a language you didn’t speak. You nodded and she left.

As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut, you stalked over to Steve, whose eyes had never left you.

“Tell your friends breakfast is ready.” You ordered. Steve nodded.

His hand came up to your cheek, and you could feel the rough calluses against your skin. All you wanted to do was close your eyes and melt. To keep Steve Rogers to yourself and stay in your hideaway.

He was a soldier—dutifully watching over those who couldn’t defend themselves. You were entirely different. You had been fucked over by enough people, enough times to know better. Why Steve didn’t, you had no clue.

You stepped back and folded your arms together.

“We get to work on game plans after breakfast. I’ll cash in some favors and see how far that’ll get y’all.” You told him.

The rest of Steve’s team was beginning to file into the kitchen. Steve held your hand, and the sudden warmth in front of everyone caught you off guard. Instinctively, you bristled at the contact.

You pointed Sam to a plate you made him, as a sort of apology for your misunderstanding. He gave a half smile and nodded in thanks.

“Listen up. Y’all got a week to get the hell out my house and plan your next moves. Meet me downstairs when y’all are done.” You announced. Without sparing Steve a glance, you promptly exited.

...

“Your best bet is a big city. I can get you passage from here to Cape Town, but after that you’re on your own.” You explained.

A chorus of tentative approval came from Steve’s group, but he hadn’t said anything yet. His eyes were glued to the different screens and maps.

“What if we went the back way. Get in by land and make our way to the coast.” He offered. You squinted, following his logic and trying to find truth in it.

“Waterways are crawling with authorities, legal or not. Y’all want that heat without a solid exit?” You pondered out loud. Steve was staring at you in complete earnest and everybody knew it.

“Plenty of blinds spots if we get enough distractions in the meantime.” He countered.

“I’m not keeping you safe here just for you to take bigger risks.” You said firmly.

The two of you were battle hardened strategists with too much history and a lot of unfinished business. Sam groaned from the other side of the bunker, cutting through your standoff.

“I, uh, need help in the kitchen. Y’all come help.” He called out. One by one, Steve’s team excused themselves with varying levels of awkwardness. Then it was just you and Steve in the bunker.

“I think that was intentional.” You joked. Steve placed his hands on his hips and sighed.

“Probably because you haven’t looked me in the eyes since we got here.” He replied.

“I’m not the one trying to get myself killed, Steve. You are. So don’t blame me for not wanting to look at the dead man walking.”

Your words hung in the air and a long silence followed.

“Come with me.” He said at last.

You scoffed, knowing full well you were retired. You had absolutely no desire to get back out in the field out of sheer self preservation. Steve talked a big game about love and a future, but he was in no shape or form willing to hang up the shield for it.

The two of you were at an impasse. Then Steve did the unexpected: he punched the wall.

It was a relatively controlled impact, but your house wasn’t built to sustain a super soldier’s outburst. An outburst that was a rarity in itself. Steve chest heaved less from effort and more from frustration. His jaw kept clenching and unclenching as he tried to keep it together. Dust from the wall coated his fist, and a solid chunk of cement dropped to the floor.

“I can feel something coming. I don’t––I don’t know what it is yet, but I feel it.” He said at last.

You made no move to approach the blonde, just waiting for him to finish processing the wave of emotions on his face. That was what you liked most about Steve. He never hid when he was angry or sad or lonely; his openness was a welcome change for you.

And this time it was more serious than it had ever been. You swallowed hard and made a beeline for the console. Punching in the code, a small chamber on the far side of the wall appeared, revealing the one thing you never thought you’d ever need again.

“Nat got one suit, I got another,” you started, meeting Steve’s eyes for the first time. A haunting uncertainty stared back at you.

You clasped your hand in Steve’s, gripping tight enough to turn the tips of your fingers white.

“I trust you, Rogers.” You admitted. You looked straight ahead at the suit, but you weren’t really there. You imagined the action you would see in it, and how devastating this phantom battle would be. A growing pit in your stomach nagged at you, Steve’s foreboding presence had fully transferred to you.

Something wet hit your cheeks. Tears to brace yourself, tears to mourn the peace you had here, and warmth. Steve wiped them away as they came, cradling your face with his free hand.

You craved the closeness––it was a string of touch and breath and skin the both of you lost in isolation, but found in each other. A new day was coming and you needed to be by his side when it did.

“I like the beard look.” You whispered. Steve snorted, but promised to keep it just for you. And the calm you felt with him was enough and would always be enough.

[meher-sumedha]

Gwynriel Headcanon - The Summer Court

Azriel, Elain and Gwyn finally arrive at the summer court after 15 minutes but felt like eternity to Gwyn. They were right outside Tarquin's mansion. "Excuse me" Gwyn said while putting a hand over her mouth and dumping out her insides in a nearby bush.

She heard Elain laughing and when she finally turned and cleaned her mouth with her sleeves, she saw Elain wrap her arm around Azriel's. Oh how much Gwyn would like to kill her with her knives.

She went walking towards them and they both quieted, apparently Elain was laughing at something Azriel said. Those fucking bitches.

"So how the hell do we do this? " Gwyn asked, her gaze not faultering from Azriel's. "Well you leave that up to me Gwyn, you needn't worry about charming someone, it's definitely not worth making an effort either, " Elain replied for Azriel.

Gwyn would have retored back but they were suddenly interrupted from a voice behind them. "Well, welcome to the summer court, " The voice said and Gwyn thought it could be the young high lord.

Gwyn finally turned around and saw a person standing not 10 feet away from them. "Hi Tarquin-, " Elain was interrupted by the High Lord rushing to Gwyn and hugging her fiercely.

Gwyn didn't know what to do and Azriel almost pulled the High Lord away from her. "You don't remember me? " The lord asked. His view was being blocked by Azriel so she pushed him aside a bit, not knowing what that action could mean to Azriel.

"I'm sorry, I do not-" She stopped herself when she recalled the light brown eyes and brown hair. Her best friend at Sangravah even though he was 2 years younger. She almost sprinted towards Tarquin and hugged him fiercely. "QUINN" She shouted while hugging him. He hugged her back. "How long has it been-" She took her neck out of his shoulderd and looked at him.

"Almost 6 years" He replied, with his hand still wrapped around her waist. He was smiling. Azriel was burning. All he wanted to do was burn the entire summer court down with the help of the sun and unleash his shadows. He wanted to rip apart Tarquin slowly and torture him. But Gwyn's thoughts were completely the opposite.

"I came back for you, you know" He said, looking at her and taking her in. "You did?", she asked, not believing a word he said. "Yeah, when I was made high lord I came back for you". He said.

Gwyn stepped back then. "High Lord?? YOU'RE THE HIGH LORD". Tarquin immediately regretted saying those words, but she would have found out, sooner or later. "Gwyn I searched for you, I really did. I-I'm sorry, I would have told you but my mom-she came to Sangravah so I wouldn't have to rule. I came back to the summer court because the others were hungry and I couldn't provide for them. And then my dad was killed by Amarantha and, " Tarquin stopped speaking, he couldn't complete whatever he was about to say. "I'm sorry" He said.

"I understand" Gwyn said while taking one of Tarquin's hands in her own. He had the same ring which she had on her middle finger. Tarquin had gifted it to her almost 10 years ago, when she was 12. He also bought himself a similar one. Except Tarquin's had a golden one, and she had a red one. "You still have it" He said while taking her hands in his.

"You still have yours" She said. They hugged again. Just staying like that for a few minutes.

Azriel wanted to kill everyone and every damn thing in the world. His shadows were crazy. They didn't come out but Azriel could feel their rage under his skin to see Gwyn with someone else, hugging someone else, being friends with someone else and whatnot.

Gwyn had to ask the question which was in her mind. She couldn't stop it from coming out. She knew the answer could hurt her but she had to know. "Are the others safe? " She asked Tarquin. Pulling her head from his shoulders to look him in the eye. "Yes" He said and Gwyn couldn't be happier. Her smile was more brighter than the sun and then Tarquin tucked a piece of Gwyn's hair behind her ear.

The ear tucking was the last straw for Azriel. He finally went up to them and asked "what the hell are you two talking about? " And Gwyn finally pulled herself away from Tarquin and wiped her eyes. "No-nothing" She said.

"I'm sorry I have to leave right now, but my people will direct you to your rooms, I have to urgently deal with something" Tarquin said. "Now? " Gwyn asked like a little child. "Yeah, it's pretty important, but if I had known you were coming, i would have cleared out my schedule, but we can spend all the time together tomorrow. " He said.

Best friend my ass. Azriel thought to himself.

"I'd like that very much" Gwyn replied. They all were directed to their rooms. Azriel's room was in the middle of Gwyn's and Elain's.

Gwyn went to her room and didn't come out for Lunch or Dinner. Azriel thought he should go to her room but then again he thought, he shouldn't.

He finally went up to her room and saw that she was sleeping. She fluttered her eyes when the door creaked and Azriel said some pretty colourful curses. "Az-shadowsinger" She said. Stopping herself from calling him Az. Again, breaking his heart once more.

Azriel came to the corner of her bed and sat down on his knees. "Is something wrong? " He asked. "I'm just a little unwell after winnowing, that's all. You shouldn't be here in the middle of the night anyway. " She said. "I'm sorry about that. Do you, do you need anything? " Azriel asked.

Gwyn was just about to answer when Tarquin came rushing into the room with a huge chocolate cake. Gwyn started giggling. Tarquin was wearing normal clothes, clothes a normal fae would wear and he came and sat down on the opposite side of Gwyn's bed. Gwyn tried to take it but Tarquin took it out of her reach.

"Give me it" She said trying to get the cake while crawling in his lap. Tarquin started laughing and gave her the cake.

Doesn't he know about Gwyn? How can he just come and sit on her bed? I swear I'm gonna kill this son of a bi-

Azriel's thoughts were interrupted by Gwyn savoring the cake and moaning. Oh how many times he thought and dreamt that she would moan the same way when he-

"Oh my god, Quinn this cake is amazing. You have to teach me how to make it" Gwyn said with chocolate all over her lips. She can call him Quinn but she can't call him Azriel.

"I promise I will" He said while taking the same fork as Gwyn and eating the cake. Azriel then got on the bed. It was big enough was 10 people to sleep in, but him and his shadows took the place of four people.

Gwyn was surprised by his action but didn't say anything. Mostly cause she didn't know what to.

"Are you all having a midnight feast without me? " Gwyn turned and saw Elain at the door. She came and got between Gwyn and Azriel and put her hand under his shirt. "No, I was uh-I was just going for a walk" Gwyn said before getting of the bed and keeping the cake on her bedside table.

She started walking out of her door and Tarquin followed. Azriel wanted to follow but Elain's hands was in his pants already, he couldn't move.

Gwyn and Tarquin walked out of the room and got in front of the house door. "Wait, I forgot my robe" Gwyn suddenly said and walked up the stairs to her room and as soon as she opened the door she saw Elain in her underwear kissing Azriel's bare chest. Elain noticed and suddenly wrapped the blanket around herself. Azriel then noticed and got up.

Tarquin suddenly came behind Gwyn and saw Azriel and Elain. "Gwyn I think it would be better for you if you took the room beside mine as this room is already-already in use. I'll get your things to your room tomorrow. " Tarquin said. "Yes, yes please that would be great" She said and they both got out.

Azriel's shadows were begging him to say anything, anything to Gwyn but he couldn't. He just couldn't.

But he did hear Tarquin's and Gwyn's conversation. "Was there something going on between you two? Because you were so up-"

"No, there was nothing between us" Gwyn interrupted Tarquin before he could complete his question.

"Then why were you so angry and upset? " He had asked.

"Because he used to be my friend, but he chose her over me when I needed him". She said and Azriel heard the sound of a door closing...

[astaroth1357]

Congratulations!! So happy for you!! Do you mind writing a HC for the Tiny!MC, where the brothers see Tiny!MC in trouble with some lesser demons? Like, the lesser demon is bullying them or about to hurt them, how would the brothers react? You don’t have to write this if you don’t want to tho. Again Congratulations!!!

Demon Brothers React to Tiny!MC Being Threatened by Lesser Demons

You know, my first thought was "Which one of you fuckers lost tiny!MC in the first place?? Bad demons! Worse than usual! Keep better track of your itty-bitty human!"

Pretty much uses the same continuity to the rest of my Tiny!Series, I put this somewhere during the “Lucifer, I Shrunk Myself...” portion.

Warnings: Violence, Overly Protective Behavior

Intro:

Five minutes. Their demonic guardian said they were only going to put them down for Five. Minutes. It shouldn't have been that dangerous, or even risky, because everyone should have known that tiny!MC was under their protection. Sure, an itsy-bitsy human would make a perfect snack... but who would want to provoke the wrath of the student council for no reason??… Okay so, lesser demons aren’t exactly known for their intelligence but still...

This is not going to end well...

Lucifer

Doesn’t that lowlife know who he's messing with? Lucifer almost pities him for being so stupid, really…

He brought tiny!MC out to the gardens at their request because they were getting restless being stuck in his room. It wasn't supposed to be a dangerous area so he felt fine leaving them briefly to answer a call from Diavolo. When he came back he found a lesser demon standing over them... drooling...

What came out was a rather chilling side of Lucifer normally only seen by Mammon. One where he can walk up to a person, demon form out in full, then drag them away by the collar with an eerily calm smile on his face.

Tiny!MC didn't see what Lucifer did to the demon… but they did hear Cerberus get summoned before the firstborn returned to them. Their imagination worked to fill in the blanks…

Lucifer apologized to them rather kindly (a real rarity for him) but they noticed he cut their visit short and took them back to the House quickly. They got the sense he'd rather they be safe but bored in his room than entertained but vulnerable to such a dangerous world…

Mammon

Pfffffft, Mammon is protective of MC even when they’re normal-sized. Them being tiny doesn’t change much.

He had brought them along with him for one of his gambling nights. Unfortunately, he got too absorbed in the game to notice a group of lesser demons getting closer to tiny!MC than they really should have… At least until they shouted for his help.

It's rare to see Mammon mad. It really is. But there was nothing but pure rage in his eyes when he grabbed one of the demons by the throat and sent him crashing through the roulette tables. His speed made it pretty easy for him to round up all the others that tried to scatter and he gave them a similar treatment.

After everyone was thoroughly on the ground, bleeding, he asked the MC if they were hurt. If they were, then that'd just earn the downed demons another round of his fury. No one hurts his human like that! Big or small.

He'll apologize a whole bunch for letting his guard down… but also complain a little on the way back to the House because his luck was just starting to turn around too! 😖😞

Leviathan

Direct confrontation isn’t something Levi finds himself in often… but there can be exceptions.

He and tiny!MC were in one of the few stores in town that sold otaku goods and he had set them down to do some browsing in that hyper, distracted fanboy way he gets.

A couple of lesser demons were just some other patrons who happened by them, but who could pass up such a convenient snack?

Well, tiny!MC was convenient until the guys heard what was probably the world's most unholy hissing sound coming from the other side of the room…

Levi has never claimed to be at the peak of demonic prowess or anything, but just this once he was at their defense at a speed he’s never pulled off before. In practically a blink of an eye, he has one asshole lifted by the collar and the other getting crushed by his tail. It wasn't a pretty sight...

After the threat was dealt with, he snapped right back into the same ol'Levi like nothing ever happened, though. Blubbering apologies and frantically checking to be sure they were unharmed... What a somewhat terrifying sweetheart. 🤭

He pretty much refused to take them anywhere again until they were back to normal. Who needs the real world anyway?? His room is the only place they ever need to be!

Satan

You know this is exactly why he kept them so close in the first place...

Satan had to retrieve a book from the highest shelf in the RAD library so he set tiny!MC down in order to climb the ladder. A small gang of lesser demons decided to strike while he was up there browsing...

When he slid back down and turned to see the demons had surrounded the table that he left tiny!MC at, his shout alone was powerful enough to rattle the shelves behind him...

Needless to say, the Avatar of Wrath made very short work of the threat. And a library ladder can make a surprisingly versatile weapon if you put it in the hands of someone pissed enough to use it... and strong enough to rip it off its sliding track… What was it? Metal? Steel? Eh, not strong enough to stop an angry Satan anyway.

After the dust settled, he double-checked to be sure the MC was okay and apologized for being so careless... But they could tell he was still trying his best to regain his composure post berserker freakout. Someone's going to have to nurse those bloody knuckles for him later...

His overprotective instincts tripled afterward. If you think that Satan was ever going to put them down again then that’s a fantasy. Between the lesser demons and that sly bastard Solomon, tiny!MC was never leaving his hand at RAD again. Period.

Asmodeus

Excuse me?? Some lesser demon was doing what now?! Oh HELL no!! Not to his adorable tiny!MC!!

Asmo was shopping with tiny!MC and set them down outside a dressing room while he tried on a cute outfit. Apparently, a lesser demon was doing the same in the stall next to him and came out to find a little human waiting patiently outside… powerless… vulnerable… and tasty!

Asmo opened the door right as the demon picked tiny!MC up to have a bite. The fifthborn's scream shattered all the mirrors in the store like he was some kind of infuriated opera singer then he ripped the demon a very verbal (and physical) new one...

Once the attacker was pretty much decimated, Asmo tended to the MC like they'd just gotten dragged through an active war zone. He asked them, "Are you okay?!" so many times that the words "I’m fine" pretty much lost all meaning...

The sheer carnage left the store employees too damn petrified to ask him to leave so he bought the (now ruined) outfit he had on and took them right home. His sweet tiny!MC was definitely getting a spa treatment that night as an apology… Poor thing...

Beelzebub

Apparently, some people just want to go bear poking for fun...

He and tiny!MC were outside a food stall and he had set them down to go wait in line. In hindsight, he probably should have known the meals would attract other hungry demons… ones that wouldn't mind a free snack… And tiny!MC got cornered pretty quickly while his back was turned.

Those demons might have thought twice about their plan, though, if they had known Beel would attack them with the entire stall itself. 😰

Poor tiny!MC, by some miracle, barely got out of the way of the wooden structure crashing down on top of their attackers as if dropped by the heavens in a fit of rage... Those not crushed under the wreckage got squashed under Beel's fists...

In the aftermath, Beel was barely recognizable when he picked them back up, holding his bitty human so close that they might have suffocated against his chest. Even the stall's very upset owner just backed away from him after getting a ferocious snarl…

It took him a couple hours to calm back down… Then a couple hundred apologies to Lucifer who has to foot the bill for that guy's ruined livelihood… But hey, no one would ever be dumb enough to touch his tiny!MC again. 

Belphegor

Heeeey! Picking on tiny!MC is his thing! Like he’s going to let anyone else give them any grief…

Belphie likes to hide on the roof of RAD sometimes to take a midday nap so he thought it would be funny to hide tiny!MC from the others by taking them with him one afternoon. Both were peacefully napping when a lesser demon apparently had the same idea and found them.

Belphie woke up when he heard their distressed cries and saw the demon trying to carry tiny!MC away... Oh, he wasn't having that.

Belphie shot up and snapped the scumbag's wrist to get tiny!MC free before he effortlessly sent him flying over the edge in one fell swoop. Give this to the Avatar of Sloth, when he does get moving he’s pretty efficient.

The demon's fall got cushioned by a grove of trees below, which earned Belphie a slightly less severe lecture from Lucifer. He did, however, get a pretty rough one from Satan anyway because he took the MC like that in the first place…

Beel took custody of tiny!MC yet again but even he was grateful to his twin for protecting their little human. Tiny!MC noticed Belphie started sleeping a little lighter when he knew they were around, but he'd deny that any supposed “guilt” had anything to do with it… Whatever he says, I guess. 🙄

[skzsauce01]

Ruin My Life

Synopsis: Six times you and Minho “ruin” each other’s lives, and the one time you almost actually did ruin his. 

Warning: none

Word Count: 3.9k

Pairing: fem!reader x Lee Minho; friends to lovers

one

Minho always looks like trouble, but he especially looks the part when he dresses as a greaser for Halloween. The entire hallway looks his way when he enters the building even though the low 7:30 AM sunlight blinds their eyes when he opens the door. He has a lollipop in his mouth in place of a cigarette, and when he gives a curt “Good morning” nod in your direction, the girl beside you pretends to swoon.

“Hello, Danny,” she mutters to herself, mimicking an Australian twang. She’s conveniently dressed like Sandy in a poodle skirt and cardigan. “I’d let you ruin my life.”

When you tell Minho about what you heard after school, he laughs so hard he almost falls off the wall he’s sitting on. “Seriously?”

You take a bag of pretzels from the shared pile of treats between you two and rip it open. “Yes! I can give you her name if you’re interested,” you say, half-hoping that he doesn’t actually want it. “What a weird thing to say though.”

He shakes his head and holds his hand out for a pretzel. “No thanks to the name. I think Chan’s supposed to be Danny, so I’m not her summer fling that don’t mean a thing.” He waits for you to drop three in his open palm and, with complete mockery, says, “But I’d let you ruin my life.”

You shoot him a disgusted look, and he laughs.

“Aren’t you glad I made you watch Grease?” you transition. “So who are you? A T-bird? Someone from The Outsiders? Just a generic greaser?”

“Generic greaser, I guess. What are you?”

You point at the pointy, black hat perched on your head and say in disbelief, “I’m a witch!”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and you know you have just walked into a trap. “No, I meant your Halloween costume.”

“Get bent, you jerk,” you roll your eyes.

However, the pretzel you throw at him doesn’t stop him from chortling at his own joke.

two

You agree to feed Minho’s three cats the following weekend while he and his family have a last-minute emergency out of town. You show up to his doorstep on a late Thursday afternoon to say your regards, but everyone in the Lee household is in pandemonium. You slink past his mother to Minho’s room where Soonie and Dori are lying on his bed. Minho himself is packing a duffel bag.

You knock on his already open door to alert him of your presence. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, looking up. “Sorry about this. I would have asked someone who lived closer, but my mom doesn’t trust anyone else with the house key.”

“It’s okay. I like playing with Dori.” You’re still standing at the threshold, feeling too shy to enter now that you’re both older, and you crane your neck to see farther inside. “Where’s Doongie?”

“Under the desk. You can come in.”

“Right.”

You settle into his desk chair and pick up Doongie to pet. There’s nothing else to do, and you scan his walls for something to look at. Your eyes land on his calendar where there are reminders for the biology exam next week and the dance competition at the end of the month. You want to ask if everything’s alright, but it feels insensitive to pry.

“My mom made you dinner,” he says. “To thank you. It’s on the dining table.”

You smile as you remember all the times you stayed over for dinner at Minho’s when you were younger. His mom made the best japchae. “Tell her thanks for me.”

“Will do.”

“Minho!” you hear his mom shout. “We’re leaving!”

Minho heaves his bag over his shoulder and gives you a small smile. “Thanks for doing this. My offer of letting you ruin my life still stands, by the way.”

You snort at the comment, which makes Doongie jump off your lap, which makes you and Minho burst into laughter. “Yeah, well, what are best friends for? I’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah. Key’s on the coffee table, by the way. And you know where the cat food is right?”

“I got it. I’ll be the best cat sitter ever.” You stand up and give him a hug. “Everything’s going to be okay, Minho.”

He holds you a little longer, and you can feel his heartbeat against your cheek. It’s surprisingly erratic, and yours begins to match in tempo.

“Thanks,” he repeats, finally pulling away.

You stand awkwardly at the foot of his bed and give him another smile as he starts to leave.

His foot has just stepped into the hallway when his mom yells again, “Lee Minho!”

“Coming!” he shouts back. He turns back to you, like he wants to say one more thing. “Don’t forget to eat or else she’ll think I didn’t tell you and get mad. And send me pictures of the cats!”

He disappears before you can even nod, and you hear the front door swing shut. You sit back down and idly spin in his chair, enjoying its cushiness. You’re not hungry yet, so you reach for Dori, who eagerly snuggles into your arms, and snap a picture to send to Minho.

Dori loves me more. Consider your life ruined.

three

The day before the biology exam you’re back at Minho’s house. Two open textbooks and an array of different colored pens decorate the dining table surface while two lazy cats lie on the floor beneath. You flip through your notes for the lesson from two days ago. In the meantime, Minho is frantically shuffling through your flashcards.

He abruptly groans after turning a card around and slumps back into his chair. “I’m so screwed. My test average is already bad, so this is just gonna make it worse. I barely remember what we covered today.”

Minho’s version of bad is everyone’s above average, but it’s unlike him to complain about his scores because he knows it. “Is everything alright?” you ask. “You don’t have to answer, but you seem off.”

“You remember that emergency last week?”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try to arrange your facial expression into something less obvious. “Yeah?”

“Well, it’s not about that.” He looks over to see you caught between relief and annoyance. He grins for a few seconds and then turns slightly more serious. “Dance team stuff. Someone got injured, so we have to fix the routine.”

You nod sagely. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, but my bio grade doesn’t have to.” With a newfound sense of energy, he straightens up and dives back into reading flashcards. “Thanks for letting me borrow your notes. I’d let you ruin my life.”

He says it with the same joking manner as last time, but you don’t answer in the same way. “I don’t think you need any help with that,” you say as you hold up his quiz from a few days ago. There’s a big, red 79% circled at the top and ugly slashes through the numbers of incorrectly answered questions.

He shrinks and makes a face at the low score. “In my defense, I was busy with dance, and it’s at least passing.”

“Well, your 90% test average is suffering.” You shut the textbooks and motion for him to put down the cards. “Tell me about lysosomes.”

“92, but alright. Lysosomes—”

When the tests are passed back another week later, you and Minho gather around your locker after school to compare scores.

He counts down, and you steadily lean in closer in anticipation. “Okay. 3… 2… 1!”

“95!” “95%!”

There’s a brief second where the two of you process each other’s grades before both of you burst into cheers about not only having matching scores but also good matching scores.

“Yogurt place or cafe?” you ask. It’s been a longstanding tradition between you and Minho to get celebratory desserts for receiving scores over 90. “I have a coupon for the new froyo place.”

Minho shakes his head dejectedly, and your heart sinks. You rarely have an excuse to hang out with him outside of school nowadays.

“I’ve got practice in” — he checks his phone — “in fifteen minutes. Raincheck or I’ll bring you coffee tomorrow morning?”

You brighten up at the prospect of Minho-delivered coffee. “Coffee. Definitely coffee.”

He nods and waves goodbye to you. “See you then.”

“Don’t be late tomorrow!”

four

Because you knew that you were getting coffee delivered to you, you didn’t have any before heading to school and are currently fighting the urge to fall asleep standing up. The bright sunlight that comes in whenever anyone walks into the building greatly helps.

“Morning,” Minho greets, a cardboard cup carrier in his hand.

You spot your drink and eagerly snatch out of its place. “I’d let you ruin my life,” you sigh, too happy to snap at Minho’s smirk at the use of the phrase. You notice the red and gold label wrapped around the cup. “You went to the expensive cafe too? Goodness, how much does this cost?”

“10,000 won.”

“There’s no way it was that expensive!” you argue.

“Delivery fee.” He sips on his own coffee while he waits for you to hand him his money.

You pull out your wallet and give him half of what he wants. “There’s no way it was more than 5,000.”

He smiles and pockets the money. “4,000 actually.” Before you can demand your change, he looks at an invisible watch around his wrist and says, “Can’t be late. See you.”

He takes off before you can protest, and you moodily drink your coffee instead. At least it’s good and full of caffeine.

Lia, the one who dressed as Sandy for Halloween and the person who just witnessed highway robbery, steps closer and asks, “Was that your boyfriend?”

At the word ‘boyfriend,’ you heat up. You snort and shake your head. “Boyfriends don’t overcharge their girlfriends for a drink. He’s my friend.”

“He seems sweet,” she says.

You’re about to correct her when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You fish it out and smile when you see the notification on your lockscreen.

Lee Minho paid you ₩1,000 - delivery fee has been revoked

“He’s sweet, I guess.”

Lee Minho requests ₩1,000 - jk

“Never mind.”

five

You can’t believe you let Minho talk you into attending one of his dance competitions. It’s not that you’re not supportive of him and his extracurriculars, but none of your friends are free this weekend, so you have to sit in the audience by yourself. You’re not exactly lonely, but you certainly feel out of place. It’s also not fun once you remember that you have a stack of homework waiting on your desk.

When they announce your school’s team to the stage, you join the applause and shout your friend’s name as loud as you can. Minho somehow manages to pick you out of the crowd and nods at you in acknowledgement. Even though you know he can’t clearly see it, you mouth, “Good luck,” to him.

When the spectacular performance is over, you clap and shout his name again. It’s the last performance, and you anxiously wait while the judges deliberate the winner. You text some votes of confidence to Minho in the meantime. Soon all the teams gather in the room. The feedback from the head judge’s microphone quickly silences the whispers.

They’re not third.

Or second.

Or first.

They’re fifth.

You look over at Minho, who is patting his team members on a job well done. He’s smiling goodnaturedly, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You grab the bouquet of flowers you bought for him and head down to the ground floor like many others are doing.

Heart thumping, you tap him on the shoulder and hold the bouquet out to him. “Hey. Congrats on making top five,” you joke in an attempt to cheer him up.

“Thanks, I guess. It went better than we expected, but you know, first is ideal,” he shrugs. He points at the flowers in your hands, melancholy nearly gone. “Did you buy those from the supermarket?”

“Would it be better if I said I stole them from the neighbor’s garden?”

“Did you really?”

“No.”

“Lame.” He takes them anyway. “I didn’t think you would actually come.”

You again think back to the stack of homework you have and the amount of studying and procrastinating you had planned to do at home. “Me neither.”

“Thanks for coming though.” He pauses for a bit, and you already know what the next line he says will be. “I’d let you ruin my life.”

“You’re already ruining mine.”

Like you’re both in kindergarten again, he shoves you in retaliation — lightly though because he doesn’t actually want to hurt you — and knowing you can’t push him as easily, you stick your tongue at him. He is soon called away for a group photo, and he volunteers you to take it. You do so, and after, with the help of a team member, you and Minho get a picture together with the fifth place trophy. You both smile at the camera, but you’re gently elbowing each other in the ribs all the while.

A minute later, he shows you his phone screen, and you see his post of the recent picture.

being number five and ruining lives, reads the caption.

You like the post anyway and end up setting that photo as your lockscreen.

six

“I hate this,” Minho mumbles to you, his breath making clouds in the winter air. “Why do they do this to us?”

You walk alongside him, trudging at the same snail’s pace as he is. “I know,” you reply. “C’mon, let’s just get it over with so we can leave.”

You drag him by the arm to the front of the giant Christmas tree. He puts an arm around your shoulder and you an arm around his waist. The two of you plaster wide grins on each of your faces while your respective mothers snap photos of their children in matching outfits. The fathers have learned to disappear once they have arrived at the outdoor mall, and you wish you and Minho decided to slip away before the current situation.

“I hate this tradition,” you say through your teeth. You wince when someone’s flash goes off, the light blinding in the night.

“Me too. This vest looks so stupid.”

“The bow around my neck agrees.”

It happens every year, but you and Minho never grow tired of complaining. Your mothers, best friends themselves, insist on documenting the friendship of their children, so you and Minho are subjected to ridiculous Christmas Eve photos in front of the same tree every year. For whatever reason, neither of you have ever rebelled and refused. Darn people-pleasing personalities.

When your parents are satisfied with the results, you and Minho rush to partially get rid of your outfits. Minho unbuttons his vest, cursing at his cold fingers, and you fumble with the knotted ribbon around your frilly shirt collar. Of course you decide to cut your nails the day before.

“Y/N?” someone says. “Is that you?”

You look up from your ribbon and see it's one of your classmates. “Oh, hey, Lia,” you greet. You point at her bags. “Last minute shopping?”

She sheepishly nods. “I like your dress, by the way.” You don’t miss the way her eyes flicker back and forth from you to Minho. “Do you guys know you’re matching?”

“It’s a stupid tradition,” Minho interjects. His vest is draped over one arm and the other is busy loosening his tie. He looks at the limp bow around your neck. “Do you need help?”

“Yes.”

Lia shoots you a knowing smile and starts turning away. “I gotta go, but it was nice seeing you guys. I’ll see you after break. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” you say back, more concerned with getting the cursed ribbon off than goodbyes. Minho echoes the sentiment.

You tilt your chin up and let Minho take a stab at the knot. Whenever his cold hands accidentally brush against your neck, you flinch and your pulse jumps. You hear him swearing under his breath over how tight the knot is, and you meekly apologize and feel yourself grow warm. Everyone’s staring at the spectacle, but you want the stupid thing so badly you don’t care.

“Why did tie it so tightly?” he mutters, finally managing to pull it apart. “I think my hands are cramping.”

“I’d let you ruin my life,” you mockingly say before dropping the act. “But thanks for real.”

“Only for you.” He smirks. “You have to get the dads though.”

You groan. He really does want to ruin your life. You and Minho’s dads are notoriously hard to convince to leave the mall once they’ve found a nice spot to eat and chat. “Anything else,” you plead.

He shakes his head. “No. I did it last year too.”

You take his hand and drag him with you, despite his protests. His fingers are still chilly, but his palms are surprisingly warm. He mutters about your own cold hands at the same time, but you’re too preoccupied with scanning the mall for your fathers to say something witty back. You accompanied him last year, and he would do the same to you this year.

As expected, Minho gives you dirty looks while you spend fifteen minutes begging and waiting for the dads to hurry up. You innocently smile back all the while.

seven

You spent a good portion of your winter break at Minho’s house, playing with his cats, eating his mom’s delicious japchae, and lamenting about school starting up again. School is in session now, and you wait for your first period teacher to open the door as you scroll through your phone outside in the hallway. Minho stops by to return the scarf you left at his house, and to your delight, there’s free coffee that comes with it. He puts the emphasis on ‘free.’

“I’d let you ruin my life,” you say, taking it from him. It’s from the expensive cafe again. “Wow, what’s the special occasion?”

“Just ‘cause,” he replies. “See you after school.”

“See you.”

What a weird way to begin the day. You wonder if Minho’s done anything to the drink; no way he would give you something for free. However, when you cautiously taste it, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. You swirl it to further check, but there’s still nothing.

Even though he said it was free, you still send him the money anyway.

A few minutes later, Lia shows up and says good morning. The two of you idly discuss winter break, and you both find out that neither of you did anything interesting.

“Are you going to go?” Lia asks. She points at the giant poster advertising winter formal tickets.

You shrug and sip on your Minho-delivered coffee. It still tastes normal, and you’re not sure what to make of it. “I don’t know. I don’t have anyone to go with.”

“Aren’t you dating that guy I saw you matching outfits with at Christmas? I don’t know if I already told you, but those were cute outfits.”

“Nope. He’s still my friend.”

“Is that disappointment I hear?” she teases. At your stuttering attempts to retort, she laughs. “I’m kidding. But he is cute.”

“Do you still want him to ruin your life?”

“You heard that?” she groans. “Oh my goodness, that’s embarrassing.”

When you tell Minho what happened after school, he doesn’t laugh. It’s not particularly funny anyway, but he usually smiles a little. Today he’s stony. “So is that your answer?”

“My answer to what?” you bewilderedly ask. You think back to morning and even when you were last back at his house only to come up blank with what he can be referring to. “What did you ask?”

Realization hits him. “You didn’t read the coffee label, did you?”

The cup has long been tossed into the trash by now. “Was I supposed to be? What did you ask?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he quickly brushes off. He hops down off the wall. “I gotta go to practice.”

“Wait!” you call after him but he runs off.

A few minutes later, you find yourself digging through the trash can you threw your empty cup in earlier. Luckily, it’s mostly filled with paper cuttings and other coffee cups. However, the latex gloves you borrowed from your biology teacher don’t lessen your disgust, especially when leftover liquid drips out. Your teacher watches on in amusement as you scrutinize every one.

“This must be a very important piece of trash,” she remarks.

“It is. Oh! It’s this one!”

The label is stained with coffee, and you can just barely make out Minho’s handwriting in black ink. Why did he have to write it so small? No wonder why you didn’t notice it earlier. You hold up the cup higher to the light, and your eyes grow wide as you read the message.

want to ruin my life forever and be more than friends? will you go to winter formal with me?

You nearly drop it in your surprise. Oh goodness. You really, really messed up.

Your heart threatens to beat out of your ribcage, and every part of you is buzzing with adrenaline. Minho likes you in that special way, and you…

You…

You kind of feel the same?

Yes?

Wait, no?

No!

You definitely feel the same.

You hurriedly thank your teacher for her help and rush out of the classroom with Minho’s cup in your hand. You have to fix this now. You burst into the dance practice area, out of breath, and everyone looks at you in confusion.

“Yes! The answer is yes, Minho!” you shout and triumphantly hold out the cup.

The dance captain looks back and forth between your panting frame and Minho’s frozen figure. “Let’s take a five minute break?” he says, more of a suggestion than an order.

You walk over to Minho while everyone else disperses. He meets you halfway. His mouth is open, like he wants to say something, but no words come out.

You smile at him and thrust the cup into his hands. “Hi. The answer is yes to both questions.”

“But you said you told Lia we were just friends,” he breathlessly says, like he can’t believe this is happening.

“Well, we were just friends ten hours ago. I didn’t realize I wanted to be more than your best friend until I read your note.”

A hesitant smile creeps up onto his face. “I didn’t think you would actually take me up on my offer of ruining my life. I thought I screwed it all up by even asking.”

“No! I really like you,” you blurt out. “Like really, really. And I think I have for a long time now. It just… took awhile for me to find out.”

“I like you too, life ruiner.”

You try to playfully push him, but he wraps you in a hug before you can even touch him. You squirm in his grasp and giggle when he holds you even tighter.

“Life ruiner, life ruiner,” he chants in your ear. “And you’re all mine now.”

~ ad.gray