#he’ll befriend the black girl and tell his buddies to be nice to her but he won’t abandon them for her.

[livvyofthelake]

watching rise of the pink ladies makes riverdale season seven look so fucking dogshit in comparison i almost want to stop watching it so i can at least try to pretend riverdale doesn’t suck now. unfortunately i love grease and i need to watch this. but i’ll have you all know i’m mad about how good it is.

[yourkimjaejin]

Moxy with the NCT 127

The long awaited post for me!!!! Here is a closer look at Moxy’s relationships with the members of 127. Enjoy!!! ~ Author Izzy

Moxy x Taeil

Taeil was always nice Moxy. Treating her kindness and respect but never getting to close. Anytime he wanted to, it seemed like Johnny and Doyoung had everything under control

So Taeil decided to be her silent support. During her first two promotions with 127, Taeil would always keep a close eye on her. Eventually, he began to be able to tell when Moxy needed someone. And when she did he was there. 

Taeil became her emotional support oppa. Whenever she needed quiet cuddle time, she went to him. Mainly because he never told anyone. The real reason: Haechan was right. Taeil is a perfect cuddle buddy. 

As she got more comfortable with her position within 127, Moxy visited Taeil a little less but she knew that her oppa’s arms were open for her always

These two constantly trade edm songs with each other. When the rest of the members are out, they’ll blast music and have their own party in the dorms. 

He knows Moxy doesn’t like chocolate so if he makes a dessert with chocolate in it, he’ll make a special one for her with white chocolate

Moxy x Johnny

Johnny is Moxy’s dad. No ifs, ands or buts. He is her father.

With Moxy having her own room, Johnny makes a habit out of coming in and checking on her. He also drags her out to get sunlight every couple of days.

Johnny: You will not sit here and become a vampire. Let’s go!

Moxy: But I’m allergic to sun..

When Johnny was doing NCT Night Night, Moxy came to watch in studio. Usually falling asleep to Johnny and Jaehyun’s voices

Whenever he buys her clothes, he refuses to buy her any black clothing. Claiming she need to expand her color palette

Johnny has a job a Moxy’s Bodyguard #1. He sits or stands one place down from her to keep an eye on her. In airports, she remains in his eyesight's at all times. 

Moxy x Taeyong

For some time, Taeyong and Moxy didn’t have a relationship. She didn’t get to know him. He didn’t get to know her. In an effort to take care of the other (at the time) nine members, Moxy just flew under the radar.

After an interview gone wrong, Taeyong made the decision to pay more attention to the younger girl

Taeyong was impressed by her talent, all aspects of it. So he began to help with her rapping and dancing. 

Taeyong was the first member to notice her non-eating habits. To rectify that, he started keeping small snacks he knew she liked with him

Taeyong loves to run his fingers thru her hair. During vlives, he’ll pull her in front of him and start twisting and tangling her hair

These two are always bouncing ideas off of each other. Moxy’s very in touch with her feelings she knows exactly what she needs to do to express those feelings in a song and that really helps Taeyong when he gets stuck with lyrics. 

Moxy x Yuta 

Yuta is the second member of the silent supporters. Yuta keeps Moxy safe using his body. If the group is walking thru a crown, Yuta keeps Moxy in his sights at all times. If they’re on a sidewalk, Yuta makes sure she walks on the inside even if she’s not walking with him

These two love to watch anime together. As of right now, they are in the midst of a Fairy Tail rewatch. Whenever they have time, they catch a couple episodes

He is the only person Moxy could do no wrong with. The only hyung who will let Moxy do what she wants. If Moxy sneaks out to get some fries, Yuta causes the distraction

Yuta always encourages Moxy to dress in more girly clothing. He knows how much she enjoys it but never feels confident enough to wear it. So he’s tries to help her overcome that

Moxy x Doyoung

(I love this gif!!)

If Johnny is the dad, Doyoung is the mom. 

He looks after her all the time. Doyoung was always scolding both her and the other members for not really getting to know each other. 

Doyoung helped her a lot to break out of her shell. He even accompanied her to practice her gymnastics in Korea for the first time

Doyoung found out about Moxy’s terrible eating habits in the worst way possible. From then on, he made it his personal mission to make sure she eats

During Doyoung and Moxy’s early time with NCT, Moxy would have a hard time sleeping so Doyoung left his door open to her. Most of the time, She ended up in his room before morning

Doyoung does not like for Moxy to show a lot of skin around other male idols outside of NCT. There are plenty of clips where Doyoung will cover Moxy’s legs and shoulders with the closest blanket or jacket

If Doyoung is having trouble with dance moves, he’ll pull her aside for help 

Moxy x Jaehyun

Jaehyun is the third silent supporter Moxy has. Fans can catch him fixing her clothes, moving her hair into the correct place and softly catching her attention to check on her. 

Moxy has a tendency to space out. During those moments, Jaehyun usually grabs her hand and rubs his thumb on the top of her hand in small circle until she snaps out of it

Jaehyun always guides her off stage. He’s a tensy bit scared of her walking in heels and possibly slipping and falling

Moxy likes singing with Jaehyun. Around the dorm, the two will start singing and (without talking) harmonizing

Moxy x Jungwoo

Jungwoo and Moxy were close from the get-go. Moxy helped Jungwoo find his place within 127 and he’s always thankful to her. The other members of 127 are just a bit jealous of how close the two became in such a short time

Moxy and Jungwoo flirt.....alot! There is literally no boundaries between them. When Moxy lived in the 127 dorm she would steal his clothes all the time. 

When on stage, they might as well be attached at the hip. Fans will see them gravitating towards each other like magnets. At fansigns, Jungwoo will tell the fans to checkup on his girl two spaces down

Jungwoo is the only person who will ever see Moxy freak over other kpop groups. She would rather appear indifferent to everyone else. Jungwoo was only other member to figure out Moxy had a crush on Mark from Got7

Moxy x Mark

M squared didn’t have any sort of relationship until recently. For most of their shared career, they were just members in the same band. 

Early on, K-fans made many comparisons between the two 99 liners. Both were from countries outside of Korea. Both were exceptional at rap, dance and singing. In most title tracks, you can bet Mark and Moxy are gonna have a rap verse where they go line for line

Many fans called Moxy a mixture of Taeyong and Mark. Those comments got to him. And because Mark didn’t talk to her, she didn’t talk to him. This all came to a head when SuperM was just starting. 

Mark should have been happy. Happy to have his raps all to himself. But he found himself missing Moxy’s energy. Her hype affected him so much stage. It made go even harder with every word. 

When Mark finally got back for Superhuman promotions, Mark finally started to make a effort to befriend Moxy. While the two are getting closer, Mark is still at the bottom of her relationships within 127

Moxy x Haechan

Different from Mark, Haechan and Moxy grew close fast. At first, he saw her like Haechan see’s Taeil. The quiet member who just the right person to break them out of their shell. And that he did

Haechan would always crash into her room like a hurricane, kick everyone out and steal Moxy for the rest of the day

They love learning old and new kpop dances together. These two are a walking random play dance challenge.

During the summer fight, Donghyuck would stow away in Moxy’s room. The hyungs wouldn’t hear any noise coming so they would check on them almost every thirty minutes just to make sure the two were ok.

Moxy is one of the only members who is privy to Donghyuck in a down mood. “You never have to front with me. You got me?”

Moxy and NCT Dream

Moxy is their noona and don’t you forget it. 

Moxy adores Renjun’s energy. His aura never fails to make her feel safe and calm. Moxy and Renjun have little dates where they just sit in his room and watch YouTube theory videos

Jeno likes to workout with Moxy but she will only join if he’s going to a gym. Moxy refuses to ride bikes across half of Korea

Just like Johnny does with Moxy, she drags Jaemin out of his room for some outside time whenever its been awhile since they’ve seen the sun

Every third Thursday of the month, mochenji get together at chenle’s house and have a sleepover. Private time between the maknae’s and their favorite noona

Moxy and WayV

Hendery, Xiaojun and Yangyang love to tease Moxy about her bias on Ten. They flood her text message with pictures of him. They make little comments that make her blush in front of him.

Ten thinks its Moxy’s crush is adorable. He found out a while ago (I mean Moxy isn’t subtle.....). The only person Ten told was Kun. Ten loves to buy things for her just to see her eyes light up

You can’t put Moxy in the same room as Lucas cause she will literally pass out from laughing too much

Back in their trainee days, Kun would accompany Moxy to the train station to get home. One time, it was really late and Kun walked her all the way home. Kun became her grandmother favorite NCT member that day. 

Winwin and Moxy found common ground in the tricking Winwin did (i.e. the front flip in fire truck) Winwin loved going to her gymnastics practice and practicing flips with her. 

Moxy and NCT U

Shotaro is her shy Japanese child and if anything hurts him, Moxy would burn Korea to the ground. 

Other SM trainees tried to scare him by warning him about Moxy’s “Bad Attitude”. Telling him that he would never get her help or advice. Shotaro not knowing any better steered clear. 

One day, Moxy found him struggling with his Korean lessons and She immediately sat down with and helps him. Breaking everything down slowly. She even called Yuta to help because she only knew a tiny bit of Japanese. Ever since, Moxy has protected Shotaro. 

Sungchan loves to flirt with his Noona but all he gets in return is a swat on the arm. Truly, Sungchan loves being around Moxy. She took the time to introduce him to the other members and let him cling to her while he was getting used to being thrown into such a well known group

Moxy loves to take care of Sungchan and Shotaro. She’ll buy them food and The members of 12 were shocked to see how easy it was for the new members to drag Moxy out of the house

[angelaiswriting]

The Truth | Vladimir Ranskahov x reader

[couldn’t find anything i liked, so here i am again with my banners, yay! haha]

✎ Pairing: Vladimir Ranskahov x reader

✎ Requested by @mmpmaple : Could you do a fluffy thing with Vladimir? Sort of an AU where he made it out with daredevil and recovers at the readers home. They sometimes butt heads because lets face it he is stubborn! It is not the Russian way to listen to some 'little girl' that is friends with the man in the black mask. 

✎ Requested by Anonymous: Could you please do something with vladimir, I was so upset that he sacrificed himself just when I started to love him even more. please, please,please, write an au where he lives and falls in love with the reader who looks after him since claire definitely won't stitch him back up and matt can't reveal where he lives. <3

✎ A/N: fluff can be found only if you squint real hard, I fear haha I’m really sorry, I did my best. I’ve also just re-read your requests and I feel like I unintentionally detatched myself a little from them, but also that there’s more that could be added to this story, so I could maybe try a part two? Who knows (you do! Let me know). I apologize for the stupid title, but my mind was completely blank haha

✎ A/N 2: also, my dudes. My dudes. I’ve never read the comics (my brain can’t read them), so all I know is what I see on the show. But. But. This is no AU until I see his damn dead body. I’ve seen too many shows and movies to believe a death just because we hear rifles shooting. <3

✎ Warnings: probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever read. Mentions of nudity and masturbation (it’s Vlad after all haha)

Word-count: 3,498

Vladimir Borisovich Ranskahov is anything but sweet. He is strong angles and large shoulders and calloused hands and scarred face. His fingers are made to hold a gun, his body has seen too much, his mind has endured too much. But as he kisses her, all Y/N can think about are his soft lips—chapped but still tender—against hers and his tongue brushing against hers as if she was the most fragile thing.

None of them know how they got to this point. They head-butt like the champions of the discipline, they argue and bicker like kids, and when they fight, they spit venom. But with his hand behind her neck, his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, time stops and all they can do is stare into each other’s eyes.

But then she moves, not so much accidentally elbowing his ribs, and he pulls away with a groan. And before they know it, they’re bickering again. She says he should be resting, he argues he’s not a pussy, she retorts he’d be dead without her so he’d better do as she says, and he ends up stomping away towards her bedroom and slams the door closed.

Sometimes she doesn’t know what to do to get out of that situation, other times she doesn’t want to get out of that situation. Sometimes she’d kill him herself, other times she’d beg him to smash her head into the wall so that she doesn’t have to stand him a minute longer. All in all, though, she enjoys his brooding company. It gives her something else to focus on to distract herself from the fact that she’s lying to her friend, hiding a supposedly dead criminal like that.

This time, though, is one of those times where she wonders why in the fucking hell she’s befriended a Ranskahov and how she’s managed to convince herself to stitch him up. She’s come home from work less than half an hour ago and she already feels like screaming and tearing the whole apartment down, smashing the TV screen with her fist just to see it bleed, just to focus on something else that’s not her guest. And suddenly, Vladimir’s sweetness has flown out of the window and it’s like it never existed.

It’s already as hard as it is, working with her stupid colleagues and trying to have a decent relationship with her friends. She really doesn’t need that stupid Russian dick throwing a tantrum because the vodka she brought home is not the one he wanted.

As if he gives a fuck about what she wants.

For starters, she wants to sleep in her bed—she’s tired of that old couch breaking her back in half. Then, she’d like to wake up to a smoking cup of coffee waiting for her on the kitchen island next to a plate of scrambled eggs and grilled tomatoes.

But then her altruistic side comes out like the ultimate bitch it is and she’s ready to kick her own ass. Vladimir has lost everything, she tells herself. He’s lost his brother, his business, his friends. He’s injured and still recovering and his body is littered in bruises. And he’s a good person when he wakes up on the right side of the bed—or literally when God, Jesus Christ and the whole lot of saints decide to give her a day off, just to recharge a little before another nightmarish day spent babysitting a moron starts.

And so she never says a word, not even now as she slams the oven shut as she takes out the pizzas she bought coming home. She tries not to think about what comes next because she knows he’s going to complain about her choice of dinner. She just knows it, it’s something she feels from deep inside, something she cannot shake off her shoulders.

When she yells Vladimir’s name, adding a curse as she does so, she’s as ready to start the night as she would be if she were in front of death. It takes him a while to get out of her room and reach her in the living room to sit in front of the TV, where she’s put the plates and glasses on the little coffee table. She always jokes about how he always jacks off and she mock-complains about how she doesn’t want to find his jizz on her bedsheets when she has to do the laundry (she’d never admit, though, that she’d like it somewhere else). And he always grunts in response, half in English and half in Russian and he grabs his dick from above his pants just to make fun of her. Just as he does now.

“Behave,” she simply says, side-eyeing him and scoffing when she sees he’s only wearing his lounge pants, his bandages on display, and she crosses her legs and takes a slice of her pizza.

It’s not the best. She prefers it when pizza isn’t out of a freezer in a convenience store, but she really doesn’t want to buy pizza for him. She hopes he figures out what she’s trying to tell him, but he never does and he probably never will. Probably—just probably, though—she doesn’t want him to catch up and she’s happy with how things are. After all, it’s nice to come back home to someone, to have someone to spend the evening before they both go to bed.

She’s not saying it out loud, though. Not now and not ever, let alone to him. And even if he clearly likes her and lets it on in every way he can, she’s not ready to admit that she likes him back. He’s a Ranskahov, after all, and that means he’s the bad guy and she promised her mom she wouldn’t end up with the bad guy as she did before being dumped with a kid in her womb. And so she keeps her mouth shut and her hands to herself and she stares at the TV like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

And the night is calm and they’re both quiet.

Inside her head, she still hears King and that ‘when the night has come, and the land is dark, and the moon is the only light we’ll see’ of his and she tries her best not to giggle—somehow, Vlad loves this song and he has it on loop when he’s in the shower. And when she walks past the door to do her things, she can even hear him hum it and she snickers because she’s never thought of him as the type that would like ‘Stand By Me’.

“What are you laughing at?” he growls, brooding as he bites his pizza.

She casually points at the screen and shrugs. “It’s fun,” she shrugs again, “this show.”

“He’s eating her out. That’s not fun,” he points out. He’s no fan of Sons of Anarchy, but she doesn’t care—she’s the one paying for Netflix, so he’ll have to behave if he doesn’t want to see some cheesy shit.

“Didn’t know sex was a chore,” she says and chugs a gulp of water. “But thanks for enlightening me, buddy. I’ll bring you in next time I fuck someone, you’ll be able to stop me from chuckling.”

She clearly sees him clench his jaw and they both resolve that silence is better than bickering again.

“How’s pizza?” she asks after a while. She doesn’t like his silences because she never knows what he’s thinking about and she doesn’t like that idea.

“It’s shit. You could’ve stopped by some pizza joint.”

She doesn’t answer: she just shrugs her shoulders and keeps silent. Vladimir is right, but the thing she bought is still acceptable and it’s cheaper than the one he wants. She doesn’t swim in money and his vodka and cigarettes are the most expensive things she’s bought after that sexy set of lingerie she bought online when she was drunk.

But then, after the third episode, someone knocks at the door and they both turn to stare at each other, frozen on the spot. Vlad grabs his gun and he’s ready to unlock whatever security thing he has to unlock to make fire—she really doesn’t know and she doesn’t even want to know—and she’s quick to grab his arm, shaking her head no.

They don’t say a word, they hardly even breathe because it could be anyone—from a drunkard to the old lady from down the corridor to the police. To even Fisk’s men, even if Y/N barely knows who Fisk is: she’s always watching Netflix and doesn’t read newspapers.

“Y/N, it’s me.”

It’s Matt’s voice and they both freeze: her, because she really doesn’t want her friend to find her with a not-so-dead criminal on her couch, and him, because that’s clearly the masked guy’s voice and he fears he’s come for him.

“Coming!” she calls, sprinting to her feet and dragging Vlad with her before pushing him towards the bedroom. “Let me get dressed, I’m not presentable!” She shoves her guest into the room and pushes him into the en-suite bathroom, the one she rarely uses these days. “Shit,” she mutters under her breath. “Don’t make a sound or I’m cutting your dick off and it’s not gonna be like in The Package, I’m not giving it to the docs!” she hisses, taking the gun and hiding it under the sink.

When she runs back and opens the door, though, she’s not thinking about Vladimir anymore. Matt is all beaten up and his lip is split. She knows about his ‘night shift’, of course, she’s a nosy bitch after all, just as she knows about what happened between him and the half-naked Russian in her bathroom.

“What happened?” she asks, closing her door. She’s not even concerned, not anymore at least. She’s seen him bruised and hurt so many times she’s lost count—and after seeing Vladimir half-dead, nothing surprises her anymore.

He shrugs, but she doesn’t see it: she’s already pouring water on a hand towel to clean up his dirty face. “Didn’t know you had guests,” he says—and he’s clearly lying, but she doesn’t know and she doesn’t need to know.

At first, she lies, but then she sees Vlad’s half-eaten pizza and his glass of coke and she’s still wearing just her panties and huge sweatshirt and she feels cornered.

“You seeing someone?” he asks as she dabs his split lip. He’s leaning against the back of the couch and he inhales sharply when she dabs a little too hard.

She feels like lying again, but then she looks at him, all beaten up and dressed like a Hell’s Kitchen’s version of Deadpool and she doesn’t find it in herself. “Kinda,” she says, avoiding his gaze. She knows he’s blind just as she knows she isn’t—it’s still weird for her and she still can’t comprehend it, but it still creeps her out.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted anything,” he goes on.

She shrugs. “Wait here, I’m getting the first aid kit.” And to do so, she has to get into the dreaded bathroom and she really doesn’t want to get caught.

“Why don’t you introduce us?” he presses. He sounds a little pissed, but at the moment she really doesn’t care, she has bigger problems to think about and she thought they had both overcome their childhood crushes on each other.

“He’s naked,” she blurts out as she lets the towel fall on the couch, not knowing what else to say. “This really is… it’s really not the right time,” she stutters, turning around and heading towards her room at a sloth’s pace.

“Why not? Shouldn’t your best friend meet this lucky guy?”

She has barely the time to notice he’s following her that Vladimir opens the door to her bedroom and she lets out a squeal. And when she turns around, she bumps into Matt and she really wants to be swallowed up into the floor.

“Here’s your kit,” he growls and it’s Matt who grabs the box and Y/N can see his mouth slightly open in surprise when he recognizes the voice.

There’s silence for a long while and all she can hear is her heart beating like crazy inside her chest. She’s pretty sure those two men can hear it, too. She feels like dying and for a moment she thinks that it wouldn’t be that bad. Because how the hell is she going to explain that she has a naked criminal in her house?

Matt calls her name and his voice is strangely calm, its tone is as hard as stone. He looks at her—or probably right through her, she is too scared to even try and rationalize it. “You are fucking Vladimir Ranskahov.” They all know it should be a question, but it comes out as an affirmation and it makes the whole situation even worse. Because as much as she’d like to jump his bones, she’d also love to kick Vladimir’s ass.

“It’s not as it seems,” and her words come out as a question and it all feels wrong.

Matt’s hands are gripping the plastic box of the first aid kit so hard she fears he’s going to turn into the Hulk and his jaw is set so tight that she fears his teeth might fall off at any given second. “Why is he standing there naked then?” he asks and, again, she really doesn’t want to know how he knows Vladimir’s as naked as his mom’s made him. “Most importantly, why is he alive?”

“Can we please all calm down?” she squeals, putting her hands up in the air as if they’re arresting her.

In all honesty, they’re all calm—or at least they seem so—and she’s the only one on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Neither Matt nor Vladimir say a word, even if she clearly hears the latter cross his arms in front of his chest.

“Go put something on your junk,” she begs, but the stupid Russian doesn’t move.

“I’m still waiting for an explanation,” Matt urges her, grabbing her elbow and squeezing it tight.

*

It takes her a good two hours to calm Matt down from his blind rage. She barely manages to fix his face without hurting him more and more than once she wishes she didn’t work as a vet so that she could mess up with the stitches.

During that time, Vladimir sits brooding on the couch, still as naked as a worm, and glares at her while she mouths at him to leave the room.

But when Matt eventually leaves, after promising on Foggy’s life to not say a word and to not do anything, Y/N turns towards her guest and all she sees is red as he sits there, arms slouched behind the back of the couch, the guy’s prick on full display as if he had something to prove.

It takes her a while before she’s able to move again and when she does, a shiver creeps down Vladimir’s spine. He has never seen her this scary and for a split second, he regrets playing that trick on her and on her masked friend. But then again, he knows how to deal with women and how to put people in their place.

“You are a son of a bitch,” she seethes through her gritted teeth as she slams a pillow on his penis. She’s dying to peek, but she’s also dying to bite it off, so she resolves for neither of those options.

“You could have told me you are friends with stupid Daredevil,” he growls as he grabs her wrists.

*

That night she doesn’t sleep.

At first, she tosses and turns on the couch, groaning under her breath at her lack of sleep. Tomorrow is her day off, but she’d still like to sleep. And she doesn’t want to think about Matt and how furious he was when he found Vladimir in her apartment. And she doesn’t want to think about Vladimir, either, because that would mean accepting what she feels for him and she’s not ready to admit she likes him, not yet.

And then, when Vlad comes and drags her to bed, any chance at finding sleep flies out of the window, never to be seen again—or probably not, probably she’s just overreacting and being dramatic, but his arm against her burns like fire and her hair there are standing on their ends and she can’t focus on anything else.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he stares at the ceiling, where the lights from outside cast unreadable patterns.

She doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, and part of her doesn’t want to know. It could mean anything from ‘sorry I got out naked’ to ‘sorry I came to look for your help in the first place’. And while she’d gladly take the former, she doesn’t want to think about the latter because even if she complains a lot, she doesn’t really mean it.

“I am, too,” she whispers back, trying not to think about the bandage covering the wound on his right calf lightly rubbing the skin of her left leg.

This time, it’s Vladimir who doesn’t know what she’s apologizing for. Always throwing tantrums at his own tantrums? Being friends with the guy who almost killed him? Making him fall for her fast and hard, making him doubt about anything and everything at once?

And before they know, she’s lying down on her side and his arm is wrapped around her shoulders. And it’s cozy, to lie there like that, pretending there’s nothing between them and that they’re just barely tolerating each other’s presence.

“I should leave,” he says after a while and she knows he’s fighting off the urge to light up a cigarette. He knows she doesn’t like it when he smokes in her room, but  the truth is, she doesn’t really care. Deep down, so deep she’ll never admit it, she enjoys the disgusting smell of smoke because it reminds her of him and as long as her house stinks of tobacco and other cancerogenic substances, she knows he’s there with her.

“It’s well past two in the morning,” she yawns back and she’s so comfortable in his embrace that she feels herself drifting off to sleep.

“In the morning, I mean,” he continues, “or evening.”

She knows he means it. Somehow, she can feel it in his muscles, in the way they tense when she traces the edge of one of his bandages yet again.

The truth is, she likes his company. She likes to fight with him because he lets her get rid of the pent-up frustration she always carries inside her. And she likes it when he mutters unintelligible Russian words under his breath, or when he off-key sings under the shower—she had never thought of him as the type that sang in the bathroom, but here he was, in all his fucked-up glory. She definitely doesn’t like it when he jerks off in the toilet and he moans and grunts like there’s no tomorrow, though, but she could definitely get used to it.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she admits after minutes spent in silence and she rolls back on her back and she stares at the ceiling like him. “Matt won’t do a thing, I promise. And if he does,” she continues, “I’ll fix it.”

She’s debated a lot on whether to tell him the truth or not, but she doesn’t even know what the truth is, herself, so she says what she thinks is best.

And as they somehow end up cuddling, something either of them hasn’t done in ages, she’s scared because she knows he might be leaving for real. And even though she cannot tell whether the crush she has for him is really there, she knows he’s become like a friend and she wouldn’t stand the idea of coming back home to an empty and cold apartment just to cook something quick and spend the rest of the evening watching Netflix.

And as he stares at her while she sleeps, her eyelashes brushing lightly against his shoulder, he knows he has to leave. He has spent so much time imagining her in his life that now that he has her, he’s scared. He knows he’ll hurt her, or that someone else might do that just to get to him, and he really doesn’t want it: he cares about her too much to even risk it, even if he does his best to not let it on.

But right now, it’s good to have her there where he’s always wanted her—and where he knows she’s always wanted him. And she feels soft and warm and defenseless against him and her breath tickles his skin and he swears that’s the best feeling in the world.

>> Part Two: Jealousy (NSFW) >>

I’m not in pain anymore, but I still find this fun haha am I weird? Don’t answer, I already know I am. On another note, this was really fun to write!

Feedback is always welcome ❤️

TAGS (to be added/removed, shoot me an ask)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @toomanyfandoms96 @mblaqgi

Bratva: @sweetvengeancee @theranskahovs ( @brobachev ?)