#wanted to jot down some faces i wanted of him <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[amjustagirl]

Chapter 1

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f! reader

genre: romance, angst

wc: 4k

summary: you've loved soshiro since you were seven. he will always place his duty above you.

chapt 1 / chapt 2 / chapt 3 / chapt 4 / chapt 5

Once a month, Hoshina Soshiro drops by your apartment for tea with you. 

It isn’t often that you both get the same day off. Him, with his vice captain duties that never end because Kaijus don’t deign to give him a break, as he often complains. You, spending hours if not days buried in the blade forgery at Izumo tech so much so your parents remark dryly that they’ve forgotten your face. But every so often, the universe smiles upon you and you get to spend an afternoon sitting on your narrow balcony with your oldest friend. 

It always begins like this.

He drops a plastic bag full of fizzy drinks on the table that only he drinks, whilst you brew a pot of tea. There’s dessert in the fridge that you get to feed his sweet tooth, and he’ll consume both because you’ll claim you have no appetite. After a few perfunctory questions about your wellbeing - the same as always, nothing’s changed, he’ll turn his mind to the sole focus in his life. 

“You gave the latest tech to my brother?!” he yells, outraged. “His main weapon isn’t even a blade.” 

“Orders are orders”, you respond. “Besides, didn’t I just tweak your katanas last month?” 

“About that”, he grins at you, somewhat sheepishly. “I’ve got more ideas -” 

“Not again”, you groan. 

He’ll rattle off a long list of things he wants you to work on next month. Blades made out of some kaiju bone, just to test its mettle. A blade to be worked into his boots - an idea he cheekily admits stems from some stupid shounen manga he reads in his spare time. So many of his ideas belong in the trash bin, but you entertain him anyway, studiously jotting down each of his requests. 

“You’re lucky I put up with you”, you tell him. 

Lazily, he flops onto the floor, rolling to lie his head in your lap. “As if you wouldn’t”, he laughs, poking up at your cheek. 

You don’t get the chance to answer him. His phone goes off, as it always does, and he has to go. 

“Seeya next time”, he waves, without leaving you another glance. The sliver of sky between the buildings surrounding yours is dark when you get up from your seat to clear the cups. 

Your cheek still stings. 

Your family always had close ties to the Hoshina clan. The clan of swordsmiths sworn to the Hoshina clan of swordsmen. A tie that can be traced centuries back to the Edo period to today. Your father crafted his father’s blades in the fires of your family’s forge, yet another in your family’s lineage who were born to serve the generations of Hoshina swordsmen. 

Even though you were born a girl, you never accepted that it should be different for you.

You were only seven when you accompanied your father on a delivery to the Hoshina estate. Your stockinged feet echo in the wooden corridors that stretch out before you, seemingly without end. There are portraits of imposing swordsmen in every other room, blades displayed, their former owners’ eventual fate captioned beneath. You are too ashamed to admit that you’re afraid of one such painting with kaiju-like yellow eyes that seems to glare at you that you bolt when your father leaves you aside to talk business with the Hoshina patriarch.

Foolishly, you forget that the Hoshina estate dwarfs your family home. After the fifth rock garden you come across (which admittedly to your seven year old self, seems to blend into each other), you are well and truly lost, so you sit on the porch of some courtyard and wait to be found for a stern reprimand by your father. 

Clang. 

But you’re drawn by the sound of steel clashing, so you follow your ears, and your eyes thank you as you watch two boys spar with dull blades. 

The older, with silver hair, has a clear edge. He’s taller and stronger, so he bullies his younger opponent into a corner. The younger, with dark hair, doesn’t seem daunted, standing his ground with precise swings and savage slashes that his older opponent only manages to parry with difficulty. 

Though you hide yourself behind a pillar, the older boy spots you anyway, breaking off the fight to grab you by the front of your top. 

“Intruder”, he shouts, waving his blade at you.  

“I’m - I’m sorry!” you squeak. You panic, fearful that he’ll throw you out of the estate, because if you can’t even figure your way out around the compound, there’s no way you’re going to find your way back home across half of Osaka, so you hiccup and cry and beg to be let go - 

“Hey! You’re just looking for an excuse to get out of a losing fight.”

Courage has never been your strong suit. It’s easier for you to hide behind your father or older brother’s legs, so you’re taken aback by how quickly the younger boy jumps into the fray on your behalf, defiant even in the face of a larger opponent.  

Your captor’s nostrils flare. “What did you say?!” he demands, but he lets you go with a sneer. 

“Another round then”, the younger boy says, as he tugs you to your feet, brushing the dust off the pretty kimono your mother took the effort to dress you up in. “Maybe this time you’ll actually be serious -” 

His brother brandishes the blade at him. “I’ll beat you to a pulp, you insolent brat.” 

You spend the afternoon watching them from a safe distance until your father finds you, apologising to Hoshina-sama for his wayward daughter. 

You’re formally introduced then to the brothers - Sochiro the elder, who doesn’t even acknowledge you with a nod, and Soshiro the younger, who smiles like the sun when you tell him that he’s amazing in a fight. 

“I’ll show you more next time!!”, Soshiro says. His eyes remind you of violets blooming in spring. 

Your mother hears of your adventures in the Hoshina estate. 

She comes to brush your hair after your bath. “The Hoshina family sees ours as a vassal clan”, she states baldly, as the comb sticks on a particularly tricky tangle. At your noise of confusion (and pain, because she’s none-too-gentle at getting the snags out of your mane), she explains. “That means our family is bound to them by our usefulness in making katanas, the instruments of their success.”  

She clucks her tongue at your obtuseness, as you stare at her, uncomprehending. “We supply swords, not brides to them. There are no engagements between their sons and our daughters. If you wish to associate with the Hoshina boys, you must be of use to them.” 

Perhaps, in her ungentle way, your mother was trying to do you a kindness. 

But you took her warning as instruction instead. So, though you’ve always been afraid of the loud forge your father and older brother work in, you badgered your father for enough lessons in sword making, hovering over him every minute you have out of school so you can learn everything you can.  

It’s worth it, when Soshiro comments on the shiny scars on your forearms the next time you visit. 

“I’ve been learning how to make katanas”, you explain, suddenly shy. 

“Wow!” you catch another glimpse of violets through wide eyes. “You must’ve worked really hard!”  

You peek at the blooms of bruises on his shins, the angry red scratch across his face. “So have you”, you reply. 

He beams, dragging you off to play.  

More often than not, that devolves into him showing off his latest moves, and you applauding his every action. He revels in the attention, which you find strange because surely everyone with eyes should be able to discern that Hoshina Soshiro is wildly talented, even at the tender age of eight, but then whenever his brother surfaces with taunt regarding Soshiro’s swordsmanship, you can see the chip of his shoulder grow, an invisible burden that drags him into the ground.

As an outsider, it’s not your place to comment on the unfairness of being knocked around by a boy five years his senior, so you try your clumsy best to bandage Soshiro’s wounds and slip in an encouraging word or two. You never want to see the violets in his eyes wither and die. 

“I’ll make you the best blade in the world when we grow up”, you bump your elbow against his. “So you can beat him.” 

“Promise?” 

You loop your little finger around his. Half moons brighten into stars. 

// how abt a blade that can separate into 2 // 

// or or or // 

// maybe three?! // 

// would your ancestors roll in their grave //

You wake up to a text. Or three. 

<Gremlin>. You text back. <Soshiro-kun, go to sleep.> 

// you wound me // 

// seeya later // 

// visiting Izumo tech for my new suit!!! // 

// make sure you lend me your lunch discount at the cafeteria // 

You snort.

<Cheapskate>. The rhythm of your conversation thrums. <are you asking me to have lunch with you> 

// someone needs to keep me safe from my fangirls // 

// don’t leave me in their clutches // 

An eye roll. 

< Die >. You turn your phone facedown, resolutely refusing to respond. 

Despite your complaints, you end up eating lunch with him anyway. 

It’s difficult to concentrate on your meal when your childhood friend turned the most eligible bachelor in the Japan Defense Force sits across from you in a skintight uniform, your giggly co-workers sitting two rows down watching his every move. So you push your tray away and just watch him as he chatters away through a mouth full of food (something he’d never do back home because he’s been raised with manners befitting the second son of the esteemed Hoshina clan, but around you he seems to turn into a demented manchild), but you’ve always found it endearing how he’s his chaotic true self around you - 

“New recruits are coming in next month so I don’t know when we’ll have time to catch up -” 

“There’s nothing to catch up on when you keep text me in the middle of the night with your train of thoughts - “

“That’s all work related”, he says. “I want to know how you are doing.” 

You’re not about to tell him that your parents have informed you that they’re tired of you mooning after a man who’ll never love you back, and have started haranguing you via text to get your ass back to Osaka so you can meet suitable men your age who’d be willing to accept an unladylike wife with burn scars trailing up her forearms.  

“As if you really want to know”, you grumble. “You’re only interested in talking to me when it’s about your weapons and tech.” 

“You wound me”, he dramatically claps his hand to his chest, miming hurt. “You don’t believe that I care about my oldest friend?” 

“Nope.”

“Rude”, he sing-songs. “C’mon.”

“The only reason we’re even lunching is because you wanted more upgrades - plus, now you want a shield against your fan-girls, who, by the way, are going to mob me in the bathroom and make me recount for the thousandth time, why and how I know you, the - I quote - cutest guy in the Japanese Defense Force, though they really should get their eyesight checked out in my opinion -” 

“Oohhhh - people think I’m good-looking?” He runs his fingers through his hair like he’s in some 80’s shampoo commercial, throwing an exaggerated wink over his shoulder to the nearest fangirl. You hear a thump on the floor. You hope she didn’t hit her head too hard (but perhaps it might make her sole brain cell work a little better if she did). 

You tap his knuckles with the back of your chopsticks. “Get that ego on a leash.”

His grin is cheeky. “I can’t help it if people think I’m good-looking.” Your heavy sigh makes him pout. “You don’t think I’m good looking?” 

The lunch bell comes to your rescue. 

“I have to get back to work”, you tell him, all too ready to make your escape. 

“So do I”, he gobbles down the rest of his lunch. “Seeya around.”

“Stay safe”, you add. “Don’t let a Kaiju eat you up.” 

“Eat me up?!” he squawks with mock outrage. “Don’t you know I eat Kaijus for breakfast?” 

As if you don’t. In Tokyo, the third division is exceedingly popular. Captain Mina Ashiro of course, takes up most of the attention with her long, dark hair and prowess as the nation’s foremost sniper, but once in a while, the newspapers and magazines run features of Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro, and you dutifully keep cuttings in a scrapbook that you hide under your bed. 

In every interview, he talks about how it’s patently untrue that there’s no space in the Japan Defense Force for those who prefer to wield a blade rather than a modern gun. “Captain Ashiro believes in me”, he says, so seriously that it’s hard to recognise your usual jovial friend. “For that, I’ll be thankful for every day.” 

He said the same thing to you the day of his promotion. 

“She believes in me when no one else did”, he tells you in disbelief. 

That’s a lie, you want to shout. You reminded him that there’s a snowball’s chance in hell that he’d fail the entrance exam into the Japan Defense Force, and he’d indeed pass with flying colours. You calculated his unleashed combat potential from your lab in Izumo Tech, saw him exceed and excel so much so that an exception was made for him to carry katanas which you spent sleepless nights crafting for him. He won his first promotion as platoon leader nary a year in after a stunning victory decapitating yonju across Tokyo, and your congratulatory text to him was ‘See, I knew you’d do it.’ 

So no, Mina Ashiro was not the first person who believed in Hoshina Soshiro. You are. 

Unless, in his eyes, you don’t count. 

<okaa-san>

<Yes, I’ll be glad to meet your friend’s son>

< No promises on anything more>

The date your parents arranged for you is a man with a pleasing smile who has as much romantic interest in you as you in him - which is to say, very little at all. “I’m too busy with my job, but my mother insisted”, he confesses.

You like him all the better for his honesty. “So did mine”, you respond with a wry chuckle. 

Yamamoto-san is good company, nonetheless, even if his only interest in life other than his demanding job as a corporate slave is tending to his houseplants, so since you both share an interest in getting your overbearing mothers off your backs, you agree to have lunch once a month just so you can say to your parents without lying that you’re seeing someone. 

A part of you that you tuck deep into your chest hopes that word gets around to Soshiro, who’ll come beat your front door down, demanding that you, instead, turn your eyes to him (as if you’ve ever looked elsewhere for as long as you’ve known him). And when Hoshina Sochiro, Captain of the Sixth Division, pops into your office for his own tweaks to his tech and rounds upon you with a wicked twinkle in his eye, you’re sure that whatever you share will be conveyed as salaciously as possible to his younger brother. 

“Soooo”, he drags each word out obnoxiously. “Your older brother mentioned that you’re seeing someone now who isn’t my younger brother.” 

You smile blandly. “Soshiro-kun and I have always been just friends.” 

“Just friends my arse”, he retorts. “You’ve had a planet sized crush on him since you were seven. It just can’t be helped that my brother’s got a katana up his arse.” 

You try your best not to wince. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Captain Hoshina?” you gesture at the door. “As you can see, the mountain of work that’s been piling up ever since you stopped by my office needs to be done, and I really don’t have time to sit around and gossip like old women.” 

“So grumpy”, he hops off your desk. “So, should I tell him that he’s missed the boat?”

“Tell him whatever you want.” You begin to type furiously on your laptop. “As if he’ll care.” 

Five minutes later. 

// u have a bf?! // 

// and i had to find out fr Sochiro?! // 

// AND u said there’s nothing to catch up on? // 

You lock your phone in the drawer beneath your desk. 

// are u ignoring me???? // 

“You ignored my texts!” 

This is a first. Hoshina Soshiro, cranky even when a stack of golden brown pancakes soaked in maple syrup wobbles enticingly in front of him. “I was busy at work”, you say. A flimsy excuse, one that fails to placate him as he continues to pout, childlike at you.

“So?” he demands, slicing right through the pancakes with his butter knife. “Is it true?” 

“Is what true?” 

His eyes narrow as he waves his knife accusingly at you. “You decided to tell Sochiro that you got a boyfriend before me?” 

You take a sip of coffee to steady your nerves. “You know I don’t talk to your brother unless he decides to invade my lab. But I guess he and my brother still text from time to time.” 

“Hrm.” he puffs out his cheeks, blows out a breath heavy enough to flutter his bangs. You restrain the urge to reach over and straighten his hair. “Fine.”

“I’m just seeing a guy that my parents set me up with.” You rehearsed exactly what you wanted to say, but your insides churn, the coffee you drank not doing you any favours. “I guess they’re just worried that no one will ever want me as I grow old and unmarriageable.” 

His chuckle is blithe, uncaring. “Parents are all the same, aren’t they? Just last week, my mother called me to ask if I’m interested in being set up on a date with someone - as if I’d ever be interested, I barely have time to sleep, let alone date, and besides, she probably just called because my older brother’s a master at dodging such calls -” 

You let him ramble on as you gather the remnants of your courage deep within your guts for a final advance. 

“Soshiro.”

“Hm?” he looks up, mid-chew. “Sup.”

“If I really did get a boyfriend, you wouldn’t mind, would you?” 

“Why would I mind?” He laughs, reaching over to prod at your cheek. “I mean, I guess as long as you don’t stop making me awesome katanas, and as long as he doesn’t mind that I text you my brilliant ideas on improvements -” 

Unknowingly, he cuts right through your heart. But in fairness to him, you offered your heart on a silver fucking platter, even handed him the blade to stab it with.

“I was just worried you’d be unhappy”, you mumble, blinking back tears furiously. 

Thankfully, he’s too focused on clearing his plate. “I thought you were going to ask me something serious”, he laughs. “What a silly question.” 

“Yeah”, you manage to croak. “What a silly question.” 

He goes on to fill the rest of the afternoon with chatter about his new recruits. You sit numbly and listen to his tales of a Shinomiya slip of a girl who blows all recorded numbers for a recruit out of the window, an old man who confounds his techs by registering a big fat zilch on their combat scales, but he entertains his candidacy because he’s a great source of entertainment. 

“You okay there?” he frowns, stopping mid-story. “You kinda look down.” 

“Indigestion”, you lie through gritted teeth. “Never you mind.” 

“You shouldn’t take milk in your coffee if you’re lactose intolerant, silly”, he teases, confiscating your iced latte. 

“I’m just an idiot”, you try your best to smile. Fortunately, he accepts a pained grimace. 

Your mother was both right and wrong. You know that Soshiro cares for you as a friend, because he could never be callous enough to reduce you to your usefulness to him, but it’s true that he has no space in his heart for you. 

A year or two ago, you piled yourself in a car with both Hoshina brothers to brave the Obon traffic to get back to Osaka for the holidays. You hadn’t been able to afford the jacked up prices for the shinkansen, and Soshiro only found out yesterday that Captain Ashiro took pity on him for missing consecutive New Year holidays that she gave him Obon off as a consolation price, so their parents nagged Sochiro into ferrying you both home. 

“Shouldn’t you have your own car?” Sochiro groused. 

“Why would I need a car if I’m on base 24/7”, Soshiro replied. “Why do you need a car? Unless the sixth division is slacking off -”

The car screeched to a halt. Sochiro kicked open the door, yanked Soshiro by his collar and shoved him into the driver’s seat. “To keep your smart mouth occupied, you can drive us the rest of the way to Osaka.” 

“Aren’t you scared I’ll crash?” 

“If you do, I’ll skin you alive.” 

Your forehead nearly split open from all the bickering. “Guys, I can drive -” 

“No!” Both brothers yelled at you in unison. It’s the first time they’ve probably agreed on anything in their life.

The bickering finally ended when Sochiro fell asleep in the back, head pillowed against the window glass on one side in a way that he’s bound to wake up with a neckache. Still, you’re forced in close proximity to Soshiro, the puffs of warm air from the overworking air-conditioner blending with the scent of steel and citrus, from the shampoo he probably uses, you mused half dizzy, head heavy - 

“If you puke in the car, Sochiro’ll make you lick it up.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Talk to me so I don’t focus on your terrible driving.” 

By the time Soshiro’s done with his recounting of the last four fights he’s been involved in, the massive disappointment of this year’s recruitment exercise and his admiration for Captain Mina Ashiro (which made you want to scream, kick your foot through the windshield, perhaps), the afternoon sun is low to the ground, streetlights along the expressway flickering on. 

You couldn’t help but ask. “Do you ever think about anything other than your job?” 

“Nah.” he chuckled. “I don’t have time for anything else. I gotta spend time to train y’know, otherwise I’ll really die on the job.” 

“Soshiro!” 

“That’s why I got good life insurance”, he deadpanned. 

“I guess that was a silly question”, you slump back in your seat. 

“It really is”, he teased. “So, what else d’you wanna hear about my all consuming job?” 

The memory stings your eyes. 

You make up an excuse to return to your apartment without haste, waiting until he disappears around the corner before you give in to the tears that you’ve been keeping at bay all afternoon. Strangers on the train ride home give you a wide berth, because they certainly don’t want to catch whatever malady you’re clearly suffering from with your swollen eyes and hiccuped sniffles. You stumble into your shoebox apartment, kick your shoes off at the genkan.  

Tonight you’ll give yourself the grace to mourn the death of a dream.  

You crack open the beers he previously brought, one after another. Drunk, you sit on the balcony, the half-moon reminding you too much of a certain vice captain. You let your mother’s words flood your mind. You are meant to offer him blades, not a bride. In another lifetime, in every lifetime, perhaps, the noble born son of a samurai clan would never open his heart to the lowly daughter of a swordsmith. He would be raised to always put duty before love. 

You don’t know why you hoped for anything different. 

So when you roll off your sofa in the morning, you glare at yourself in the toilet mirror, eyes rimmed red, a hangover in full effect. 

“You are an idiot.” you slap your cheeks so hard it turns pink. 

You will not allow this to continue. Hoshina Soshiro is not yours, has never been yours, and will never be yours. You are pathetic for hoping otherwise, stupid for living in hopes that he’ll look at you some day, an utter idiot for letting every choice you’ve ever made in your life be guided by your infatuation with a boy who doesn’t have space in his heart for you.

You could’ve been like your older brother, been content with sticking to the family business of sword making instead spending every spare minute on your engineering studies so you’re well positioned to be snapped up by Izumo Tech as a weapons specialist. You had the leeway to be based in Osaka near your family, but accepted a position in Tokyo just to be closer to where Soshiro’s based. You could’ve had a social life, perhaps even friends outside of work, if you’ve not dedicated your life to your job, working after hours tirelessly, just so you secure promotion after promotion, cementing yourself as Izumo Tech (and by extension, the Defense Force) go-to for anything blade related, just so you fulfil the promise you made to Soshiro all those years ago. 

You cannot live the rest of your life this way.   

a/n: so...i know i've only ever written for the hq boys but the way hoshina soshiro grabbed my throat in a chokehold in that gym training scene just forced my gremlin brain to start typing and get to work on this story for him.

hope you guys like it <3

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Previous Chapter: Part 1 | Next Chapter: Part 3

AO3: Linked Here :)

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon

Link to My Master List

Scenes from the afternoon hookup replay in your mind over and over as you sit in the library at a battered old desk in the history section. All you can think about is Shoto’s mouth. And his hands. And his abs!! And his sweet face.

You twiddle your pen in your hand as you try to draft out an essay for class. Unfortunately, every time you try to jot down a few thoughts your mind goes blissfully blank and you remember the tender way he spoke to you.

"How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?"

“You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.”

“Find me later so we can discuss this.”

You look down at your watch excitedly – 7:55 PM. You eagerly wait for Shoto to appear so the two of you can talk and – with any luck – canoodle amongst the history textbooks. You sit patiently as the time ticks by.

Soon it’s 8:30 PM. You’re not worried, though. Shoto probably assumed you’d want to get some work done first.

9:15 PM rolls around and you start to get worried. You try to distract yourself with school work as doubt creeps into your mind.

10 PM – Shoto still hasn’t showed.

“Shit shit shit.” You check your phone again and again as you wade through the endless wave of homework your teachers have assigned. You keep losing yourself in a math problem or in a passage of your History textbook, only to remember with a jolt that you were expecting to see Shoto and the bastard hasn’t showed.

At 10:30 PM you realize with a sinking feeling that it’s almost past curfew. You pack up your things and prepare to head back to the dorms. There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can’t shake.

You slide your books into your bag as a anxious thoughts dance through your mind like annoying fruit flies: Does Shoto regret your mid-afternoon hookup? Is he going to pretend it never happened? Did you push him too far? Does he think you’re a slut for stripping off your shirt and basically pressing his face into your naked breasts!? The synapses of your brain jump through dozens of equally horrid and embarrassing scenarios as you march back to your dorm room, blushing furiously with humiliation.

You run through the afternoon’s events in your head for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to find a clue as to why Shoto would have left you waiting alone in the library. Your cheeks burn hotter as you recall the gentle way Shoto had kissed your neck before leaning in to capture your lips in one of his first kisses. "How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?" You shiver as you think back to how gentle he was, how each caress felt so loving and intimate.

You shake your head to clear it. Shoto must have a valid excuse for not meeting you in the library as he had promised – no boy could kiss someone that intimately and then instantly cast her aside, right?

Before long, you’re walking through the doors of Class 1A’s dorm building. You shiver with discomfort as you recall how earlier that day you essentially scaled the side of a building for a boy. Does Shoto think you’re an absolute fool with the extremes you went to for a quick make out session? You hope not.

You walk up the stairs and past the common area. You see most of Class 1A studying quietly. Sero, Izuku, Kirishima and Ida sit around one of the kitchen tables reviewing their math homework while some of the girls compare English notes on the couch. To your relief, Shoto isn’t there. Mina waves to you enthusiastically, beckoning you to join her and YaMomo as they review the finer points of Hamlet. You politely decline and make a beeline for your room. You turn the key in the lock and it clicks – within moments, you are blessedly alone.

You toss your heavy book bag to the ground and prepare to wallow in self-pity. It’s 10:56pm and Shoto still hasn’t reached out to you. Your phone is vacant of text messages and your brain is absolutely fried from schoolwork.

You dim your room lights and switch on the favorite fairy lights for some peaceful ambiance. Time for some self-care, bitch! You think resolutely as you swap your uniform for your favorite pair of pajamas. You toss your phone to the floor with abandon and climb into your comfy bed. You breathe in deeply, allowing yourself to revel in the coziness of the dorm room.

You take out your five-minute bullet journal and write a quick list of things you're grateful for: 1. The opportunity to study at UA 2. Your lovely and encouraging friends and classmates 3. Your cozy room and the roof over your head 4. Shoto’s mouth 5. Shoto’s abs 6. Shoto’s goddamn hard AF dick

Um. No.

You snap the journal shut before you get too derailed.

You pull your comforter over your head and sit in silence for a moment. You’ve never been the kind of person to go completely boy-crazy. You always used to make fun of those girls who would go gaga over pretty boys and their texts and their kisses. But as you recall the searing way that Shoto kissed your lips earlier that day, you suddenly understand what all the boy-crazed girly hype was all about. Oh my god. You have a crush. A big sloppy embarrassing crush.

In the silence of your room, you suddenly here a buzzing noise coming from the general direction of your book bag. You struggle to disentangle yourself from your sheets and your journal goes flying. You ignore its crash landing as you slip from your bed and collect your phone from where it lays abandoned on the carpeted floor.

It’s Shoto.

Your heart skips.

Todoroki: Y/N. Are you awake?

You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Did Shoto just send you his version of “U up?”

Y/N: Yes, I’m still up.

Todoroki: I know it’s late, but can I stop by?

You tense. Oh God – he’s going to come by to tell you that he’s not interested. He’s going to thank you for your time making out and say that you probably should avoid hooking up in the future because it’s a huge distraction. You’re sure that whatever he has to say is going to be negative and leave you feeling embarrassed. Why else would he have skipped out on your rendezvous in the library?

You take a deep breath. You have always been fairly practical with a mind for strategy, two qualities that had really set you apart when you had taken the UA entrance exams. You know that the best course of action here is to rip off the Band-Aid sooner rather than later. Better to know how he feels about your hookup now

Your heart sinks as you type out:

Y/N: Sure, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. Just come in. Try not to be seen by anyone.

Todoroki: Of course. See you shortly.

Your heart beats double time as you look down at yourself. Your pajama set consists of a silky blue top with matching shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination. You chew on your thumb nervously – should you change into something more appropriate? No – Shoto has seen your boobs. A little bit of leg is not going to kill the half hot half cold hero in training.

You quickly remake your bed and kick your book bag beneath your desk so that the floor is clear. You plop down on your smooth comforter and wait, knotting your hands together as you anticipate Shoto’s arrival.

A few anxious minutes pass, and then you hear gentle footsteps pad down the hallway outside your door. The knob turns quietly, and in a moment Shoto Todoroki steps across your threshold, quietly closing the door behind him. He reaches down to turn the lock with a gentle snap of his wrist.

You take him in – he’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him dressed so casually before and you assume that these are what he wears as pajamas in the privacy of his own dorm room. His hair is tousled and damp from a recent shower, and the burned side of his face shines where he’s clearly applied some kind of scar cream or moisturizer. His outfit projects a comfy air, but his expression is dark and stormy. Your heartbeat quickens in fear – what could possibly have caused him to be in such a tempestuous mood? Was this about your kissing?

You bite at your lip with worry. But when your eyes lock, his expression softens. In two quick strides, he’s at the bed. He leans in close so that your noses almost touch.

“Hi.” He says softly, before dipping his mouth to meet yours. You blink in surprise as your mouths melt together. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the kiss. Pleasure radiates up and down your spine as you kiss him back. He places both his palms on your hips and pulls you closer, letting out a small moan of satisfaction as he slides his tongue into your mouth. How silly you feel for thinking he didn’t want you like this!

After a few moments, you break apart.

“Hey there.” You whisper, bringing your hands up to cup his beautiful jaw. He leans in to kiss you again and you hold him in place. He stops and looks down at you inquisitively.

“I waited for you in the library, you didn’t show.” You say slowly, softly.

“My father decided to take me through some drills in one of the school’s gyms. I only finished a half hour ago.” His expression becomes dull as he speaks. “I’m sorry to leave you waiting. I wanted to see you - but I’m not allowed on my phone during training.”

Relief must have flooded your features, because he tilts his head to the side questioningly. You hold back a giggle – the way his head is tilted makes him look like a sweet dog asking its owner for a treat.

“What’s wrong?”

You sigh and pull yourself further onto the bed, patting the spot next to you as an invitation. Shoto climbs up next to you, sinking into the deliciously soft fabric. His eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“This is so comfortable.” He says, pressing his palm into the plush fabric beneath him. You recall his sparse traditional bedroom and realize that he’s never laid on a proper puffy mattress before.

“Hold on – it gets better.” You say pushing him off the bed so you can pull down the covers. You slip beneath the comforter and gesture for him to rejoin you. He climbs in clumsily, unsure how to position himself within the sheets. You prop a pillow beneath his shoulders as he lays down on his side. You toss the comforter over the two of you and lay across from him, feet almost touching beneath the warm layers of bedding.

“Cozy?” You ask as Shoto settles into the bed.

“Yeah.” He says in quiet voice, propping himself up on an elbow. “I always thought beds like this were excessive but…maybe there’s some merit to this.” He eyes a blue Squirtle plush that sits next to you in the bed. “Can I…hold that?”

You grin, biting back a laugh as you reach over to grab the Pokémon plush. “This is Squirtle – he’s one of my favorite plushies.” You hold up the stuffed animal and wiggle it in front of Shoto’s eyes as if it’s dancing. “Squirtle, Squirtle” you say in a low tone, trying to emulate the television character’s voice the best you can.

Shoto gives you a weird look. “I don’t get it. Why are you just repeating its name in a strange voice?”

“Shoto…have you…have never seen Pokémon!?” You almost screech in disbelief, before throwing a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself. You quickly remember that you are in the dorms and the walls aren’t super thick.

“No, I wasn’t allowed to watch television unless it was about Pro hero work.” Shoto says, a tinge of sadness flowing along with his words. “But it looks cute and round and I really just want to hold it and squish it?”

“Yeah, that’s the general reaction to plushies. Dude, we need to get you that whale pillow you liked on Pinterest. You need more cuteness in your life.”

“Well I have you, don’t I?” Shoto smiles softly. “You bring more than enough cute into my life.” He reaches out and grabs the plush from your hands and squishes it a bit. “But this is pretty nice, too.”

Your face grows hot at the compliment. Shoto tucks the Squirtle under his arm and shifts around in the sheets until he finds a comfortable position. He looks adorable and soft as he cradles the bright plush in his strong, muscular hands.

When he finally settles in, he looks up at you enquiringly. “What’s wrong?” He repeats, looping you both back to the conversation form earlier.

“So…” You sigh with embarrassment. “When you didn’t show up and I didn’t hear from you…” You pause and Shoto gives Squirtle a squeeze. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again. Or at least that you didn’t want to make out with me again.”

“Oh.” Shoto wasn’t expecting this. “I thought I made it very clear how…enthusiastically…I enjoyed our time together this afternoon. I didn’t realize I had left any room for you to question my attraction to you.”

“That’s nice to hear…but when you didn’t show at the library or send a text, I assumed the worst. My mind kind of went into full-blown panic mode. I thought maybe once you had time to reflect on our hookup, that you realized you didn’t like it or that you didn’t really like me. To be perfectly honest, I’ve never felt that way before. Usually something like this wouldn’t bother me.” You take a deep, steadying breath. “But I think I really like you and want to be close to you, and the thought that you might not feel the same was tearing me apart for the last couple of hours.”

The words come tumbling from your mouth before you can stop and think them through. Why are you saying all of this!? Why does being around Shoto make you feel so comfortable and open to sharing? It’s so weird – and you’re absolutely sure he’s going to think you’re some kind of over sharing freak for telling him all of this.

Shoto looks at you thoughtfully for a long moment before speaking. “Something I have always admired about you is your ability to be straightforward about what you’re thinking and feeling. Most people aren’t like that, and I have a hard time navigating more subtle situations. Thank you for telling me exactly what you’re thinking – I value it so much.” He runs a hand through his slightly damp hair, moving the bangs out of his bright eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I had abandoned you. I wanted to come to the library so badly. I want to kiss you so badly – it’s all I’ve been thinking about tonight.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.

“Let me match your honesty with some of my own - my father is extremely strict. Ever since I was born, he’s pushed me to be better. To be stronger. He wants me to surpass him. He wants me to take All Might’s place as the number one hero.”

You gasp at this. Of course you knew that Todoroki was ambitious, but this…

“I don’t have any intentions of becoming harsh and cruel like my father. I’m not even sure if I want to go for the top spot on the hero charts.” He admits, almost bitterly. “That’s the path that my father has laid out for me. He’s obsessed with my training. With my ‘potential.’ But he doesn’t seem to give a fuck about how I feel. Excuse my language.” Shoto looks so sad, so despairing. He hugs the plush close, his chin tucked into his chest as he continues.

“I just want to help people and make them smile – just like All Might. But my old man just doesn’t seem to get that. Today, when he noticed how distracted I was… he didn’t ask if something was wrong. He just pushed me even harder.” Shoto avoids your gaze. “I think he purposefully pushed me to train into the night to keep me from meeting up with you. In his eyes…you’re a huge distraction for his prized creation.”

Suddenly you notice how exhausted Shoto looks – there are pale bags beneath his eyes. You scan his body and see light bruises beginning to form on the exposed skin of his arms. You wonder - just what kind of training has Endeavor been subjecting him to?

You had never guessed that behind Shoto’s calm and collected exterior, there is just a normal teenage boy trying desperately to please his father, while simultaneously trying to defy him. The whole relationship seems complicated and messy and you’re sure what Shoto is telling you is only the tip of a chaotic Todoroki family dynamic iceberg.

“Oh, Shoto.” You say softly. You scoot forward and wrap your arms around him. He freezes, unsure of what to do but nevertheless comforted by the sudden closeness. You reach behind him and card your fingers through his hair. You see goose bumps emerge across his skin, and realize that he likely hasn’t been touched this way before.

“Is it okay to touch you like this?” You whisper.

He breathes out a shaky “yes” as he moves to toss the Squirtle plush to the floor. Once his arms are free, he works to wrap them around you. He rests one strong hand on your back and slings the other around your delicate waist. He draws you close to him and holds you tightly as you continue to run your fingers softly through his two-toned hair.

He’s silent as he buries his head into your shoulder. There’s an emotion that’s radiating off of his body that you can’t quite place – sadness? Frustration? Maybe even relief? After a few moments of running your fingers through his hair and gently up and down his back, he finally starts to relax. The tense muscles in his shoulders loosen, and he seems to come back to himself.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He whispers, muffled as he turns his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m not great at expressing my emotions. I can try to put it into words…I’m feeling so weighed down right now.”

“Because of your father’s expectations?” You prompt, running a light fingertip down his spine. He shivers a bit in response, but not in an unpleasant way.

“Sometimes I wonder if he sees me as a real person, as a son. Or am I just his big project?” Shoto wonders aloud, his voice a bit strained. You feel his eyelashes flutter against the sensitive skin beneath your jawline.

“Shoto...that sounds like a lot to carry. You’re just a high school student – your father shouldn’t be putting that kind of pressure on you. It’s not normal.” You tuck a lock of red hair behind his porcelain ear. “This situation sounds so complicated. It’s no wonder you feel so conflicted. I’m here any time you need a friendly ear to listen as you work through it.” You continue to caress him softly over his clothes. He begins to lean into your touch hungrily. “But right now – at this moment – you’re safe. In this room, in my arms, you don’t need to hold other people’s expectations of you in your heart. When you’re with me, I want you to feel that you can just be Shoto.”

You still your fingers as you let your words sink in. Shoto is radiating a deep sort of sadness that you wish you could smooth away with your fingertips.

“Thank you.” He says, his voice breaking a tiny bit as he processes your words. After a few beats Shoto exhales deeply, his breath ruffles your hair. “I’m not used to talking about these things. Actually, I’m not really used to talking much at all. Or being touched.” You can feel the blush on his delicate cheeks warm the skin of your neck.

“I can tell.” You say before you can stop yourself. To your surprise, he chuckles.

“I don’t know why it’s so easy to do these things with you – talking, touching…kissing.” He lifts his head off of your shoulder to look you square in the face. “There’s something about you…”

Suddenly, the room feels as if it’s charged with Denki’s electrification quirk as his bright mismatched eyes meet your own.

“I think I’d like to continue exploring this with you.” He says matter-of-factly, moving his legs to intertwine with yours.

“W-what does that mean?” Your breath catches in your throat as he dips forward to kiss down your neck.

“It means…I want to keep doing this. Kissing. Talking. I suppose I want to keep getting to know you like this? Intimately.” He places a soft kiss in the hollow behind your earlobe. “Would you like that as well?”

“Yes.” You breathe, with zero hesitation. He smiles into your neck before running the edges of his teeth lightly across your smooth skin. You let out a soft moan in response.

“Good. Then we’ll figure this out together.” He moves to kiss your cheek soundly before releasing you from his embrace. “But right now it’s well past midnight, and we both need our sleep if we’re going to continue to be top of our class alongside YaMomo and Ida. If we both let our grades slip, it might tip people off.” He moves to get off the bed.

“Hey – wait!” You grab his arm and pull him back under the covers. “I have no problem with you staying here for the night.”

“But wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Shoto’s face reddens, but he lets himself be drawn back into your gentle embrace.

“Would it be anymore inappropriate than you making out with my tits?” Shoto’s face burns an even brighter red at this question, but he also looks quite pleased with himself (you assume he’s recalling the way he kissed down your breasts earlier that day as he smirks). “Sharing a bed should be perfectly responsible as long as we keep all of our clothes on. You said you want to explore? Well get over here and let’s figure out if you make a good big spoon.”

This earns one of those rare full smiles from Shoto – he practically glows. “Alright.”

He pulls himself close to you. You reach above your head and switch off the string lights that wind their way around your room, and the tiny dorm fills with darkness.

You turn to face the wall and scoot your body back until you feel Shoto’s solid warmth. He reaches around to pull you close until bodies are touching, flush together. You tuck yourself into Shoto’s warm, muscular body and sigh with contentment.

“So do I make a good big spoon?” He questions, tentatively nuzzling his face into your hair and inhaling deeply. “Mmm, your hair smells like lavender.”

“We’ll need plenty of practice to truly ascertain the full range of your spooning abilities.” You say in a faux-academic voice, causing him to snort out a laugh. “But so far you’re doing great.”

You interlock your legs and pull his strong arms around you. You wiggle a bit as you try to find the comfiest spot in the mattress. You unintentionally grind a bit against Shoto and jolt when you feel something hard pressed against the curve of your ass.

“Sorry.” He mutters softly, embarrassed.

“Maybe I’ll take care of that for you tomorrow.” You yawn as you close your eyes and settle in for a good night’s rest. You grin into the darkness as you feel Shoto’s dick get even harder as he mulls over your response, wondering at what you could possibly mean by “take care of that.”

You didn’t realize you were so tired. You’re dimly aware of Shoto’s breathing growing slow as he drifts off into a comfortable sleep. You smile softly to yourself as you slide further into his embrace. This poor, touch-starved boy has been through so many terrible things and your heart aches for him.

Even in sleep he’s tense, his jawline stiff and his muscles almost locked around you. But he’s warm and soft and smells like jasmine and mint tea. You hope that for the next few hours you can provide him with a safe harbor to rest and escape his troubles. You let your eyes flutter close and breathe in deeply, dreaming of Shoto’s sweet face as you fall gently into sleep’s embrace.

-------------------------------

Part 3

Previous Chapter: Part 1 | Next Chapter: Part 3

🔥 Link to My Master List 🔥

[two-white-butterflies]

sucked into a bagel

Description: A corporate attorney's life is forever changed by a chance encounter with an actress, who happens to be a former classmate. A mismatched bagel order leads to romance.

Pairing: harvey specter/actress!reader (mentioned!carlos sainz)

A/N: writing style is a bit experimental. reader has a screen name because i hate using y/n l/n. suits but in 2024 because i do not want to adjust to the past.

THERESÈ MARQUINA IS BACK – IS SHE OVER THE BREAKUP?

Theresè Marquina was in a 3-year relationship with Spanish F1 Racer, Carlos Sainz, before they separated July this year. Their breakup was followed by an announced hiatus by the actress. Now, she's making her way out of the woodworks.

Has she finally moved on?

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CLICK HERE FOR MORE ARTICLES RELATED TO 'THERESÈ'

WHO IS CARLOS SAINZ?

THERESÈ MARQUINA AND CARLOS SAINZ IN GOOD TERMS AFTER THE BREAKUP

WHO IS REBECCA DONALDSON?

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New York has always been close to your heart; the uninviting atmosphere, the people that walked past and refused to look back. A hoodie and some sunglasses were the only things needed to remain unknown. "One bagel cream cheese filling, please." You smiled.

This was your favorite bagel place, the cart always found itself standing in front of a corporate building – how wonderful it must be for these employees to eat yummy bagels after a long day of work. "You want any juice with that?" Nathan asks while jotting down your order. "Are you serious?" You scoff and he responds with a chuckle.

"Wait on the side," he says methodically.

You placed your hands in of your pockets, warming your palms against the coldness that surrounded you. After spending the majority of your developmental years in tropical countries, your body has refused to acclimate to the american weather.

Thus, leading to this feeling of coldness.

I hope that Nathan makes my order faster, you thought, not willing to wait another minute outside.

"The regular," a male voice says. You lift your gaze, locking eyes with the man standing in front of you. He has beautiful blonde hair (a weird hairstyle), a manly physique - and he was obviously sharper than the younger chaps standing around you. He was wearing a custom-made suit - silk blend...and he was staring at you.

You looked away.

I hope he didn't recognize me. Of course he wouldn't. I've got to stop being such a narc, you fought with your inner demons.

He was standing beside you at this point. You turned to look at him again, and fuck. He was still staring at you. "Is there something on my face?" Your eyebrows merged together. He shakes his head.

"Y/N L/N." He says your real name.

The way that he uttered your name, the intonation of his voice... "Harvey Specter." You answered with a smile on your face. An old friend – although, you couldn't quite call him a friend. He was someone that you relied on back during your days in Harvard, but then again, you only spent a year in that university. "I can't believe that you already forgot about me," Harvey cracks a smile.

"No, I didn't forget about you. You just look different." Your eyes narrowed. You've never seen him wear this sharp of a suit before. On his first day on campus, he wore this outrageous suit with a skinny tie, and you proceeded to call him 'skinny tie' the entire year. "And you haven't aged a day," he flirts – his charisma untested by time.

"Some things never change, eh." Your smile deepens. "- matter of fact, I thought that you were the one who forgot about me. You didn't return any of my letters, and you didn't accept my myspace request." You confronted him, a bit of your heart wondering why he didn't reach out.

"I've been busy," he informs. "- remember Jessica? I'm working for her now, Junior Partner, Pearson Hardman." He says.

Being a lawyer was the only thing that he wanted in this life. Harvey liked the smell of blood in the water. It made you happy to see him where he wanted to be. "Congratulations. That sounds amazing Harvs!" You placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Bagel for Teresa!" Nathan says your name wrong again. "I'll see you in another day. By the way! This is my phone number, call me." You winked while walking up to the counter to retrieve your order.

He waves goodbye at you, while pocketing the call card.

Harvey holds the warm bagel in his left hand, while playing with the call card on his left.

THERESÈ MARQUINA +XXXXXXXXXX William Morris Entertainment

He remembers the first day that he met you. Both of you were running late for Professor Gerard's class, no doubt, sweating balls; because the professor's name has only been uttered around campus in hushed whispers. He was renowned for not giving A's, and being cruel when it came to his grading system.

He was someone that you couldn't risk offend. He was quite particular about tardiness. You smiled at him, walked hand-in-hand through those intimidating doors - swallowed the sermon beside him, and he found himself having a slight crush on you.

It was rare to see a beautiful, kind, and smart person. God normally grants a person one of those three things, but seldom all. You gave him all of your notes, helped him through torts and explaining all the labor laws in New York. Just when he was about to confess his feelings, you suddenly told him that you were shifting to another school. Juilliard to Major in Fine Arts.

You were moving to New York. He was in Cambridge. It wasn't going to work so he held his tongue. He let you slip away, and after graduation he figured that what he felt for you was nothing but the caprice of his youth. He's all but forgotten about you, until today.

"When are you going to eat that bagel, Harvey?" He hears Donna's voice through the small intercom. "Have long have you been watching me?" He asks a question. He sees Donna roll her eyes through the glass window. "Give her a call. I'm sure she'll pick up." Donna makes another smart guess.

Donna knows everything.

"Do you even know who she is?" Harvey raises an eyebrow. If Donna finds out, then she'll totally freak out. After all, she was the one that told him to watch Pretty Woman.

"Boy loves girl. Girl gives boy her number. What more should I know?" Donna shrugs. "If you say so..." Harvey switches off the intercom.

You slowly unraveled the foil away from your bagel. "Finally," you breathed while taking a long awaited bite. "What the fuck," you groaned realizing that there was no filling inside your bagel. It's basically a bread at this point! Why eat a bagel if it's going to taste like absolute nothing.

"Fuck, maybe Harvey got my order." You placed the bagel down. Slowly, reaching for your phone inside your left pocket. "Damn, I should have asked for his number." You tell yourself.

Suddenly, your phone starts ringing. It was an unknown number.

"Hello, this better be Harvey." You pick up.

He responds with an amused chuckle.

"Nope, I found this number on a bathroom wall." He teased. "Ha ha, very funny." You scoffed. Your eyes suddenly landing on that boring excuse of a bagel with no fillings. "- have you eaten your bagel yet?" You asked. Was it too late for a switch? Yes, I've already taken a bite.

"Nope, I'm about to." He says.

"I think we messed up our orders. I got this boring excuse of a bagel with no fillings." You played with the sesame seeds on top of the bread. "Oh are you insulting my order?" He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, there's no cream cheese or peanut butter or banana in here. Respectfully, this is worst than wheat bread." You groaned.

"I'm sorry that my order is ... vanilla. Not everyone is like you." He jested in return, earning a slight giggle from you.

"Why did you call, by the way?" You inquired.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go and eat dinner with me. We have a lot of catching up to do, only if a few hours is enough to cover all that's happened in ten years?" His eyebrows merged together. He was beginning to sound like Harvey from before - the one that strived to be the best version of himself, before the reality of this world was made evidently clear.

"If it's not enough, we can always schedule a part two." You hummed.

"Where will we meet?" You asked, looking at your empty schedule.

"Send me your address, and I'll send my driver."

"I'll send my driver, okay fancy pants."

You take a deep breath, staring at your reflection through the mirror.

Is it a date?

"Fuck," you cursed while combing through your hair.

Harvey is just a friend. An old friend rediscovered in a world filled of people who wanted to use you for their own benefit. In a fast paced world, it is easy to let go of relationships – to be numb when it comes to abandonment because everyone always moves forward, or back.

You slip on the Alaïa dress that you bought years prior. Harvey didn't specify if the restaurant that you were going to was casual or formal, therefore you chose a dress that was carefully sitting in the middle. If it was a casual affair then you'd slip in a black YSL jacket. If it was formal then you'd put on the earrings that were carefully hiding in your bag's pockets.

You could only hope that the paparazzi wouldn't be snapping pics.

"Thank you for inviting me to dinner." You pressed a kiss to his cheek, inhaling his scent of expensive cologne. "- it's been a tough year," you added while settling on the couch in front of him.

Everyone was dressed to the nines; and it seemed to you that Harvey was permanently attached to his suits. "I've not been updated. I'm sorry." He handed you the special menu while taking sip of wine. "- but I did watch that film of yours. My secretary recommended it." He informed with a smile on his face.

"Which one? Don't tell me it was First Daughter." Your eyebrows merged together. That movie was particularly difficult to film. "No, it as Pretty Woman. I might say, Richard Gere is a fine man." His eyes narrowed and a small laugh escapes your mouth.

You continued talking after that - the waiter delivered your meals. You both had pasta. A dish that you bonded with Harvey in the first year. He has never been blessed with skill in cooking, so you always popped up in his condo (that Jessica paid for) to make meals.

As the laughter died down, you took a deep breath.

"For what it's worth. I made the right choice choosing Juilliard, but gods did I miss our friendship." You confessed. "- it wasn't the same. I did make some friends but we were all in over our head trying to impress the next producer, the next director, the next casting agent. It was physically exhausting that I began to miss the mental exhaustion of studying law." You chuckled, taking a bite of your pasta.

"You never did tell me the reason why you left - or why you chose to be an actress instead of being a lawyer." Harvey says.

"I told you that it was my dream to become a lawyer, but along the lines I realized that it wasn't really what I wanted. I was just doing what my parents were telling me to do." You paused.

"How did you tell your father that?" He chuckles, aware of your father's strict demeanor. "I told him that it didn't matter if I was going to live in a smaller house, with a smaller car, and a simpler life. I wanted to do something that made me happy. It didn't matter if I had to scrape my knees trying to make it movie to movie. I just wanted to be able to film." You continued.

"- thanks to my parents support, I'm fucking famous." You added.

Harvey's eyes drift to the figure behind you.

You turned to look, and it was a man with his phone out. Recording. "Oh, it happens." Your face suddenly turns stoic. Aware that someone was watching - and that you needed to act appropriately. "I can't believe this shit is legal in our country," Harvey rolls his eyes.

"Sometimes, I just want to go and break their phones." You whispered.

"Destruction of Property." Harvey smirks. "- I'd like to add assault to that list." He says, standing up and walking towards the man.

"I've done that before, actually." You smile.

"Wanna do it again?" He offered.

theresèmarquina: Thank you for the wonderful dinner & for getting that man to delete his 'paparazzi' pictures of me. I didn't look good in that angle. You are 100% NYC's best closer @harveyspecterlaw

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DonnaPaulsen: @harveyspecterlaw

Donna places the stack of files on Harvey's desk loudly. He raises an eyebrow, noticing her annoyed demeanor. "I found out through social media. I can't believe that you didn't tell me!" Donna raises her voice. It was the first time in a very long time that Donna lost her cool.

"You didn't ask," Harvey shrugs, signing a few contracts.

"Theresè Marquina is literally every woman's favorite actress. Pretty Woman, First Daughter, Noting Hill! She's literally who I want to be when I grow up." Donna paced back and forth.

How was it possible that this flew under her radar? She was Donna for god's sake. She knows everything. "I didn't think that it was that serious." Harvey pretended to be unbothered. "How did you even manage to date her?" Donna suddenly asks.

Harvey's face relaxes, then tenses up.

"I'm not dating her." Harvey groaned. "Why the hell are you not?" Donna looked behooved. "- because we are just friends, Donna." Harvey cleared up, while placing some of the files inside the drawers.

"Wait a minute," Donna takes a deep breath. Everything was starting to make sense. "She's the girl from Harvard." She accuses. Harvey frowns. "How the hell do you know about that?" He queries.

"When we were still working in the DA. I got you drunk - and you couldn't stop talking about this girl who left you in Harvard. You kept rambling on and on about how you were in love with her." Donna remembers. Of course, she remembers everything.

"Donna, get the hell out of my office." Harvey groans.

"I'm not telling you to go out there and tell her that you love her, or loved her. I just want to say that yesterday, while you were talking to her - I saw the real Harvey." She informs, walking out of his office before he can say another thing about her getting out.

PART TWO TO BE POSTED.

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[jyoongim]

~BLOOD & BLISS~

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 

Chapter two chapter four

Chapter 3

Note: sooooo as y’all know Alastor and wife!reader have already been married for a few years (by the time they have their last child their marriage will be 16-20 years.) 

Since you had mentioned wanting children, Alastor has taken it upon himself to fuck you on very surface in the house. You had never seen your husband so riled up. When he returned from work, he would always somehow coax you upstairs to make a mess of you. You were often filled with his cum that you were sure you had to be pregnant by now, but you didn’t think about it too much, just letting nature do its thing.

You were prepping for lunch, as Alastor said he wanted to come home and eat.  You decided to keep it simple, opting to make salmon cakes and cabbages. The cabbages were boiling as you moved on to make the cakes. When you opened the can of fish, the smell made you queasy, making your stomach lurch and you quickly made yourself to the bathroom.

You had broken out in a cold sweat as you dry heaved into the toilet. You whimpered as your stomach twisted. You have never had such a reaction to fish before, so why did you feel so sick all of a sudden?

You splashed some cold water on your face and looked at your reflection.

Eyes scanning yourself in the mirror,  you couldn’t see what ailment had fallen over you. You looked a little pale but that could be from anything. Your eyes lingered on your midsection.

could you be…

You turned and pressed your hands against your stomach, smoothing out your dress to be flat. Heart beating out your chest, you caressed your stomach. Your stomach had a slight bump, something that you had chalked up from your indulgence in sweets. But it was rounder than how it usually looked.

Your eyes widened and quickly went downstairs to phone the doctor.

—————————————————————————————-

“Well ma’am congratulations! It would appear you are around 12 weeks.” 

The doctor smiled at you, waiting for your response.

You were stunned. 

Pregnant.

You were pregnant.

You cleared your throat nervously “w-what am i suppose to do?”

The question held uncertainty but you had no idea what or how to process this news.

A small part of you was happy, you finally were gonna have a baby with Alastor. The other part was nervous and scared, you didn’t have the slightest thought on how to raise a child.

The doctor chuckled “Its normal to be scared or nervous. This is your first time after all but don’t worry. I recommend attending mothering classes, to get the knowledge and familiar with baby terms, symptoms, and how to prepare. You’re a bit vitamin-deficient but more fruits and greens can help with that. You’ll experience morning sickness here and there so don’t push yourself. The important thing is that you get as must rest as possible. Stress isn’t good for you or the baby.”

You jotted down some notes as the doctor filled you with some information and thanked him for his time. He gave you your next appointment and answered any other health questions you had. You made a mental note to visit these mommy classes.

You sighed as you closed the door to your home. Your mind was reeling and you were filled with so many emotions.

You hadn’t thought you would get pregnant so soon but Alastor was very if not persistent when it came to keeping you filled.

You soon had a smile on your face as you thought of the little one growing within you. You knew Alastor didn’t mind having a baby, but you couldn’t help but wonder how he would react to the news. 

Would he be excited to be a Daddy? Would he want a boy or a girl?

You were sure he wouldn’t mind either way.

You couldn’t wait to tell him the good news.

————————————————————————————————-

Alastor let some jazz tunes play as he looked over some scripts and news for his next segment. He stole a glance at the clock and got up from his chair, grabbing his jacket.

 It was lunch time.

He was headed home to spend his break with his wife.

A pleasant shiver ran through him at the thought of taking his sweet wife over the meal she prepared for him.

He had been fucking his wife nonstop since she mentioned children and the thought of her swollen with his child always sent his cock swelling.

He placed his hat and jacket on the couch as he made his way to the kitchen. He was greeted with the sight of you dressed fairly comfortable, not in your usual polished attire. Your hair was pinned up and wrapped, you were dressed in your silk robe, which was dropping off your shoulders, exposing them. You were humming as you washed the dishes.

You looked ravishing.

He crept up behind you, making you jolt when his long arms wrapped around your midsection. He pressed his lips to the junction of your neck, littering your shoulder and neck in kisses. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes darlin” he drawled, nuzzling his nose into the underside of your jaw. You giggled as Alastor nipped at your skin, wiping your soapy hands on a towel you spun around to wrap your arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss his lips “Hello to you too dear. I hope you’re hungry. I made fish cakes. Dont want you too tired heavy with a full meal when you have to dazzle the masses”

A wide smile stretched across his face, eyes lidded “What if I just want dessert?” He jested as you swatted at his broad chest with a blush sprouting on your face.

“Oh shush! Sit down and eat” you huffed, shoving a plate into his chest.

Alastor chuckled and took the plate and moved to leaned over the kitchen island.

”Are you feeling ok my dear? Not that I mind, no, but you seem tired” he took a took a sip of tea, eyeing you.

You fidget with your fingers “I am feeling better, had a bit of a upset stomach this morning and paid the doctor a visit” you tried to hide your smile as his brows furrowed and dropped the cake to look you over like a worried hen.

His hands took yours as he frowned “you’re not coming down with anything are you? Why ain’t you page me at the studio i would have gladly took you.”

You leaned into his chest, smiling at him “weeelll i did come down with something and I fear i wont be rid of it anytime soon” oh you were torturing the poor man.

He had panic in his eyes as he was unaware of what it was. Wanting to remain strong and supportive for your sake.

”well whatever it is I will make sure to be there with you through it all” he declared.

Oh this was sweet.

”did the doctor tell you what it was at least?” He asked.

You smiled, catching him off guard, as you placed his hands on your stomach. Alastor was confused when you did so, his hands spanned along your stomach. You were a bit rounder but you did like sweets.

You watched as the realization dawned on his face. His jaw dropped and his brown eyes looked at your in shock. “A-are you…” you frantically nodded, unable to conceal your giggling as he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you.

”Oh darling really? Youre..you’re really? Youre pregnant?” His voice grew excited.

”hehehe yes yes were having a baby! Alastor we are having a baby” your face was attacked in kisses. “Doc said im 12 weeks, looks like your resilience paid off” you giggled as your husband smoothed his hands over your stomach, crouching down as he laid his forehead against the bump.

”A-are you happy?” You couldn’t help but ask. He looked up at you, eyes shining and smile big “Oh baby you just don’t know.” He kissed your stomach, cooing, before kissing your lips. “You’ve made me the happiest. Almost like we got married all over again” he whispered against your lips.

He rested a hand on your stomach, caressing the bump. “Ooh I can’t wait to see how motherhood shapes you cher” he kissed your forehead, making you sigh lovingly.

Alastor had decided to page the studio to tell them something came up at home and the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon cuddled on the couch; Alastor had you tucked into his side as he stroked your stomach, already in love. The two of you had discussed what the next steps would be and how to move forward. 

All the sweetness and lovey-dovey led to the two of you giving into more sensual desires, really just enjoying each other and reestablishing the love between the two of you. 

You slipped your robe back on as you broke the heated kiss your husband had pulled you into. He groaned when you pulled away and went to get off his lap, hands kneading your hips. “Where you going sweetness” he purred as you giggled standing

”To freshen up. Since you’re home maybe we can really hunker down on what we gonna do for this baby mister” you said heading upstairs. Alastor pouted, listening to your footsteps move around. He got up and went to put up the lunch you made, he’ll take it with him when he’s out working late.

Speaking of which….he needed to spruce up a few loose ends he had been watching and would let to get those done before you needed all his attention.

He was confident in his ability to keep his sins away from your lives at home, after all he had crafted a beautiful reality here with you and he didn’t want that to be ruined by anything or anyone.

He whistled an old tune as he thought of you and a smile appeared on his face.

He was over the moon to find out you were pregnant. 

He couldn’t wait to see how motherhood treated you. 

To watch your body transform to provide for his child. How did he get so lucky to have a woman like you?

He wondered if you’ll have a boy or girl, he preferred a baby girl but he didn’t really care as long as you were happy.

After he cleaned up the kitchen he headed upstairs and Alastor swore his heart skipped a beat at the sight before him.

You were asleep on your side, one hand under your cheek and the other resting against the small baby bump, slowly stroking it. He threw a blanket over you and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. Satisfied that you were comfortable, he got his clothes from the other day from the closet and headed downstairs outback to wash his clothes.

It was gonna be a pain to get the stains out.

————————————————————————————

Sooooo what do you guys think?? I hate im going so slow but i need to build up some plot lol. I promise Alastor gone slip up!!

Remember to comment on pin for tag and like and comment!

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[yawujin]

drv3 boys and how they would flirt 💭 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

type • head canon format , cute , light hearted , non killing game , flirting , they/you pronouns used

author's note* hii , if you've been following my blog you will have noticed that i haven't been writing for dangan that much-that's just because i go through phases or fluctuations where i just focus on one of my interests at a time. thanks for reading 🪄

shuichi saihara ♡

finds any reason to talk to them

he asks sooo many questions to get to know you

he wants to see if he can find any common interests between the two of you

if he does, he finds himself thinking up any references or witty jokes he can tell you to make you laugh

his form of flirting would include making them laugh, then (with a lot of courage built up inside him) telling them how cute their laugh/smile is

rantaro amami ♡

people don't call him a playboy for nothing

even though rantaro doesn't really consider himself to be that way, his body language says otherwise

somehow he almost always seems like he is flirting

this is because; one, he isn't afraid of eye contact. two, he gets really close to them when they're speaking...

...and three, he does that thing where he "fixes" their hair whenever it's "out of place" even when it isn't

his form of flirting would be subtle touching, hinting that he really likes it when they're near. he'll only start to do it if they seem comfortable with it

k1b0/kiibo ♡

as i've written in an older post on this blog, kiibo likes to write notes/letters

i can really see him enjoying jotting down his most interpersonal thoughts on a small piece of paper, folding it and sliding it in with the many other items inside his messenger bag.

he wouldn't want anyone else to see what he writes down, unless of course, he's giving a note to them <3

kiibo's way of flirting with them would be writing down poems or haikus, his likeness for them hinted at in every word. it's either that or he writes down lyrics from his favorite love songs

korekiyo shinguji ♡

kiyo would read about the differences in how people show romantic love for each other in different cultures

there would be paragraph upon paragraph about the rules of courtship in each country

he asks if courtship is something they'd be interested in doing─or rather, having it be done to them. he's joking, of course

but in all seriousness, he would like to do something of the like with them. his form of flirting his vaguely hinting towards that, attracting them towards him-he'll never do anything they don't want.

kaito momota ♡

someone needs to let him know that it's hard to tell if he's flirting or just being nice-like he is to everybody else.

being the dudebro that he is, kaito tries to do as many push-ups in their presence as he possibly can

why? to impress them of course!

but when that trick fails, he starts becoming more direct. his form of flirting would be greeting them with a tight hug everytime he sees them. he'd also start complimenting them more often.

gonta gokuhara ♡

being as studious as he is, gonta will shyly ask if they would like to spend some time in the library together

he'll answer any questions they may have about his work with a big smile on his face. maybe their curiosity hints to them liking him back?

the way he flirts isn't too obvious, but it starts with gonta wanting to spend more time with them, especially in nature. they can expect him to take them out to watch honeybees collect sweet nectar from flowers 💐

ryoma hoshi ♡

this new crush has ryoma wanting to pick up tennis again

he spends his time playing the sport all alone, thinking about how he could start a conversation with them.

deep down, he wants to feel useful...

he asks them if they would like to learn how to play. really, he just wants to have more opportunities to see them and talk

kokichi ouma ♡

he likes to rile them up any way he can, only to say he's joking and telling them how adorable they look when they get like that─only to say that that was a lie

he'll want to leave an impression on them, get under their skin and become unforgettable in their mind

his way of flirting is quite immature, as to be expected. he makes up a nickname for them and only them as a way to get the message across

[orimuraa]

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ With you everything will be alright - Lee Heeseung

(synopsis) ౨ৎ heeseung's always gonna be right by your side, even in your toughest moments ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

lee heeseung x student fem!reader ౨ৎ comfort, fluff, a bit of angst ౨ৎ kisses, petnames, crying, reader is overwhelmed ౨ৎ wc 417

𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: this if for my bestest older sister, @saeivra. ik youre going through a tough time rn so this is for you <3 mwah, ilysm

you lost track of how many hours went by as you flipped through a textbook, jotted down some notes, scrolled through your computer and overall, took a break from studying.

heeseung was starting to get concerned because you haven't left that desk in 6 hours...

"baby? i think it's time to take a break, hm?" he suggested, walking over to you and using a soft tone.

that's when he noticed you weren't scribbling on a piece of paper.

no, you were crying.

your head was hung low and your hair covered your face, but he didn't miss the way your salty tears rolled of your cheeks, and splattered onto the paper.

"oh my sweet baby, tell me what's wrong, let's take a break, okay?" his voice so soft, afraid that if he spoke any louder, you would break down even more.

all you did was nod and that was all heeseung needed before wrapping his arms around your shivering frame and picking you up from the chair.

he brought you over to the bed, letting you snuggle into his chest as he sat against the headboard.

your uneven breaths quickened and soon, your body shook in his arms.

tears soaking the shoulder and neckline of heeseung's shirt. but he didn't care. he only wanted you to be okay.

after a bit, your breathing finally calmed and all that was left was the silent sound of your occasional hiccups.

heeseung took note of this and leaned down, pressing his lips against the crown of your head.

"shh shh shhh, i'm right here baby. i'm not going anywhere.." he whispered.

you felt so safe in his arms, the warmth providing you with a sense of reassurance that as long as you had him, everything would be alright.

"h-hee?" your voice was barely audible, causing heeseung to lean down a bit.

"yeah baby?"

"thank you...for always helping me out of my slumps," you said, shutting your eyes gently.

"my pretty baby, i want you to be able to rely on me to help you. i love you so so much ynnie," he smiles, kissing the tip of your nose.

"now, let's lay here for a bit and then why don't you show me what you're struggling with and we'll get through it together okay?" he offered, pulling you closer to him.

all you did was nod, basking in the warmth of his body and the comforting scent of his vanilla cologne.

"i love you hee,"

"i love you more princess."

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

[fayes-fics]

What The True Poet Describes

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Having been parted for many weeks, it makes you and Benedict realise some truths…

Warnings: none… this is utter fluff. Romantic confessions and proposals.

Word Count: 1.4k

Authors Note: Anon request fill from HERE (reader returns from travel to confess her feelings for Benedict). Unbetaed. Sorry it has taken me ten months to fulfil this Nonny, but I hope you enjoy! <3

As your carriage thunders down the cobbled street of Mayfair, your stomach flutters—not from the jostling of the rough surface, but for an entirely different reason. This is a homecoming of sorts, it certainly feels too long since you were here; the sights and the smells of London so enthralling, teeming with life, such a contrast to where you have been. 

But it’s not just that.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and for you, nothing could be more apt. It’s been nine weeks, and you are positively aching inside, distance bringing clarity to your heart's true desire. You are jangling with anticipation because of your destination. Not caring a jot for judgement of your actions or any scandal that may ensue, single-minded in your mission.

As the carriage slows in front of a handsome red brick townhouse, you leap out before your footman can assist. So keen for a reunion. The front door sweeps open, and the valet requests your name. But before you can even give it, the very person you want to see materialises at the top of the staircase: so handsome it takes your breath away. His face is one of shock.

“Miss y/l/n?!?” Benedict’s baritone voice rings out in genial confusion.

“Mr Bridgerton!” your responding call an animated response, holding out your hand to him as he descends stairs quickly.

He reaches you and politely takes one of your hands, kissing your gloved knuckles, your blood flushing warm as he does.

“I have missed you!” Unable to hide the breathiness in your claim.

“I have missed you too!” He echoes, still seeming taken aback before shaking his head a fraction.“Gosh, where are my manners? Please come into the drawing room!” 

He leads you there, his hold on your gloved hand respectful but firm, a warmth that stirs your belly.

“Smith, some tea, please,” he requests over his shoulder as he sees you to a seat.

“It’s rather late. Do you have anything stronger?”

His eyebrow shoots up at your perhaps cheeky query, but it's not in judgment, more surprised admiration and respect. 

“Cancel that, Smith,” he calls out. “How about a brandy?” He adds quietly just for you, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You nod enthusiastically and remove your gloves as he pours two glasses from a decanter nearby.

“What brings you here so late?” 

His skin touches yours briefly as he hands you the glass, a tiny frisson running down your spine.

“I have something to tell you,” you offer, slightly enigmatic. “I hope you will indulge an old friend.”

“Less of the old, please,” he jests gently, raising his glass in a silent toast.

“To good friends,” you amend, mirroring his action, then taking a sip and enjoying the fruity burn of the cognac.

“Good friends,” he echoes after a swig, then smiles at you expectantly, waiting to hear your answer to his question.

“Well, I suppose what I have to say is more of a confession…“ you admit, after another fortifying gulp, eyes downcast upon your glass as you swirl it lightly in your hand—a nervous tic. “Prussia has been nice in some ways, but there was one thing I missed so very much…”

“London?” he guesses

“Yes, but that’s not it,” you smile, looking up again.

“Parties?” he suggests next with a wink.

“Well, yes, those too,” you giggle and blush at the thought of the bohemian parties you have snuck away to in the past, one such gathering being where you met him. “But not what I’m referring to.”

“Tell me then.”

Steeling yourself, you look at him squarely, 

“You, Benedict. My dearest friend. I have missed you. So very terribly,” you confess over a jagged exhale.

He looks abashed, so handsome in his modesty, a dot of colour high on his cheeks as he bows his head and looks at you through his lashes.

“And it made me realise something…” 

You place aside your now empty glass. Nerves have you spring to your feet, taking a pace tentatively towards him, hands wringing.

“What?” 

His question is delicate, almost gossamer, his face enrapt, looking up at you as you stand before him, ready to finally admit out loud what your heart has been screaming for many weeks now, perhaps always.

“Yours is the wise counsel that I have missed the most. My company has been sorely lacking your sparkling wit, and indeed, there are no talented wordsmiths such as yourself to be found. Especially not any with a countenance as pleasing as yours.” 

He blushes deeper, the pinkness staining his cheeks, but he is also staring intently at you now, his breathing a little uneven. So you decide to be brave, to throw all caution to the wind.

“I-I like you, Benedict. So very much. So ardently,” each word a slight stumble, your whole body flushing hot as you lay bare the truth. “I-I wish to call you something infinitely more dear than a friend if you will permit it. These past few weeks have made me realise just how much I have missed you. A-And I felt compelled to rush back to tell you. To see if perhaps y-you might return my affection?” You stumble, your heart pounding wildly and loudly in your ears as you finally stop to take a breath.

He stands up now, too, his lopsided smile tender as he advances slowly toward you.

“Y/n, did you ever stop to consider why I always referred to you as one of my best friends from the very first time we met?” He asks as he draws closer; you are unable to look away, trapped under his intense gaze. 

“N-No?”

“It is because yours is the company I wish for the most. Days without you were, and indeed are, so very bland. I have always wanted your wonderous spirit near me, even if it was only ever as a good friend,” his voice sounding so wistful. “You should know, however, that only scratches the surface of what I feel for you, indeed, what I have always felt for you…” 

You gasp as his fingers tilt up your chin tenderly, and you find yourself lost in his eyes as he speaks again. 

“You are my muse, my wonder. Your ethereal beauty has always haunted me. You fill my every thought. Being apart from you these last few weeks has been such torture.” 

Your entire being feels alight, each cell an inferno, almost in disbelief that his feelings are an apparent mirror of your own.

“Perhaps what I want to say is better expressed in poetry….”

He pauses and looks deep into your eyes as if piercing to your very soul, sonorous, velvet words beginning to tumble from his lips.

“What is it truly to admire a woman?” 

Already captivated by his rhetorical question, you feel yourself sway towards him.

“To look at her and feel inspiration?” 

He gestures to miniature portraits of you dotted around the room, each obviously painted by his talented hand. You are temporarily dumbfounded, not even noticing them until this very moment. 

A soft chuckle from him brings your focus unerringly back to his earnest, handsome face.

“To delight in her beauty?”

He touches your cheek tenderly. It feels like a searing brand mark; you cannot look anywhere but him, lips parted, breath ragged.

“So much so that all your defences crumble…” 

He laces his fingers with yours as you feel a tidal wave of emotion, a tightness in your chest that is your lungs feeling barely able to breathe.

“That you would willingly take on any pain, any burden… for her….” 

He brings your joined hands over his heart, trying to convey the sincerity behind his lyrical declaration as you feel your eyes mist.

“To honour her being… with your deeds and words….” 

His lips brush the back of your knuckles, a wet spike of heat, and then you gasp loudly as he falls to one knee before you, his hands still clutching both of yours.

“I have missed you more than any words can ever express, y/n. I never wish to be parted from you again. I do not yet have a ring for you, but please, will you do me the very greatest honour of being my wife?”

Your world tilts at his wondrous, heartfelt proposal, ebullient joy radiating through your every pore. You begin to nod, a tear welling in the corner of your eye. Knowing there is only one word that will ever be your elated response…

“YES!!”

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[mangocustard16]

📁....Seventeen's reaction to having an actor/actress s/o₊˚🎬📼🎥✩｡

genre: fluff warnings: pet names, cursing lmk if i missed something w.c: 970 a/n: thank you! anon and I'm sorry i won't be covering another req that asked me to write about ghostface/scream cuz i already saw someone write about it<3 sorry anon!

#Seungcheol 

He is very supportive of your career and is proud of your accomplishments. He's clearing out his schedules to attend premieres, to silently cheer you on, and is not afraid to publicly express his admiration for your talent. Would casually appear during your shootings with your favorite flowers and snacks for everyone. "Babe! Aren't you supposed to be on the other side of the country?" "No, I'm supposed to be wherever you are."

#Jeonghan 

Oh boy! he's taking tips, no jokes. He's got his notepad out and is ready to jot down directions and suggestions. He is ready to polish his acting skills which will come in helpful when bluffing others during the mafia game.  Bonus: he shares the prizes he wins from "Going Seventeen Mafia Games" with you. "Hannie that's the third Dyson air wrap you've won this year!"

#Joshua 

Your supportive lil' boy. He helps you practice your lines and gives valuable advice. Everything flows smoothly until you reach a scene involving a kiss. joshua.exe has stopped functioning. He's momentarily frozen, and you can't help but wonder if he's even breathing. He had anticipated a kiss scene cuz you were the main lead, but it still bothered him a little to see you kiss someone else who is not him. But he's definitely not insecure or anything, just a peculiar sensation. And for the cure, just kiss the living daylights out of him so hard that he forgets the world except for you.

#Junhui 

Well....he's an actor himself, so it's quite obvious that he's exceptionally proud of you. He's shamelessly promoting your movie/drama every chance he gets. Dedicates an entire Weibo live suggesting your movies and dramas to carats while explaining the plot in great detail. "You know The Dreamcatcher's plot twist caught me so hard that I almost fell off my seat"

#Hoshi

He wants to accompany you everywhere – to set, to your trailer as you practice your lines, to premieres and other events. He adores the world you live in and wishes to learn more about it. He tried out acting(a period drama) and continued talking in that manner for days. "What an interesting food this is, 'twixt two buns lies a delicacy that-" "It's just a burger calm down."

#Wonwoo 

He would be so proud of you. He'll be your silent cheerleader. When the two of you are alone, he will lavishly compliment your acting and take you out to a lovely meal to celebrate the premiere. So, while it may not appear to others that he makes a big deal out of it, you'll know how proud he is.

#Woozi

Please DO NOT bring him to events – Woozi almost blends in with the numerous cameramen and women, his own phone in hand as he photographs picture after picture of you as you go into the premiere of your new film — he's a very proud boyfriend, after all. "Look here! babe. Damn you look so good"

#Seokmin

He is gonna hype you up so much omg. He like, Jun, won’t hesitate to promote your movie every chance he gets. His darling is building a name for themselves, and he'll be damned if he doesn't do everything he can to help them. He's always bugging Carats to go see the latest movie. Whenever you watch the movie alone, he will be more sincere and serious in his compliments. "No problem, carats! If you've already seen the film, you should go watch it two more times."

#Mingyu

He'd be captivated by your performance and would shove his face very close to the screen every time you appeared. And, while he may not shamelessly promote you as some of the other members do, he will certainly speak highly of you and your acting abilities to everyone he knows. That's all he talks about when he's out with his '97 liner buddies. Literally. "Y/n had to act like they had not found the killer while sitting right beside them. They are so cool!"

#Minghao 

Minghao is buying the CD regardless of whether he could simply ask you for a copy of the movie you're in or even if he's seen it hundreds of times. He is one of your biggest fans; he owns all of your movies, has seen all of your shows, and knows all of your interviews by heart.  "Are you watching y/n’s movies again? Aren’t you tired?" "Fuck off"

#Seungkwan

He actually got to know you during an event promoting your latest drama. He's your biggest fanboy, watching every drama/movie you've ever starred in, and bombarding you with compliments. Winces slightly whenever he sees you kiss a fellow actor on screen. "So your type is Song Jung" "Come on!! Stop sulking, we filmed that 6 years ago" 

#Vernon

Leaves 15-line reviews on your movies complimenting your acting skills. He is always pulling out your movies during movie night and doesn't understand why wouldn't wanna watch your own movie for the nth time again. "Babe, we have watched Wandering Dreams more than 20 times" "So, do you wanna watch 'Written in Sand'?" *dies* Bonus: All the movies you've starred in receive an obvious 5-star rating.

#Chan

He'd be so freaking excited! It wouldn't be strange to spend endless nights practicing your lines with him. Coffee would be essential for those nights, as the caffeine would keep you up as you practiced. And whenever someone pointed out how much the critics praised you, he'd say, "Yeah, of course, my love did amazing." It's as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

BONUS:: Sends coffee trucks to the set during shooting: Minghao, Seungkwan, Jeonghan, Joshua ♡

[junedenim]

breathe or steal a kiss

stuck in a small town with big things

warnings: blowjob, piv, texas, etc.

word count: 4.9k

He's in some diner in nowhere Texas. He's tired of driving and his stomach has been growling for the last hour, hungry for something other than stale pretzels. He's rubbing his eyes, desperate for them to not feel heavy. He's got 3 hours until Dallas and is determined to make it tonight.

When his eyes open, that blur fades and it's like a vision appears, an oasis in this desert he's driven through. You stand in your bell-bottom jeans, apron tied at your waist, with a red tank top. You're chewing gum and pulling out your check pad, not bothering to make eye contact with him until you click your pen. "What can I get for you, hon?"

That burger he was planning to get fades from his mind as your eyes land on his and send shockwaves down his spine. A feeling twists around him and a buzz runs through him. "Uh," he speaks as he looks down at the menu. "You got Coke?"

You smile and nod your head, obviously amused by his flustered nature. "Yeah, we got Coke."

"I'll—I'll take a Coke," he manages to get out.

You jot that down on the pad. "You want anything with that Coke?"

"Oh, uh, burger. Cheeseburger."

Your eyes are busy looking at your pen skim across the page but his eyes can't escape your face. "How would you like it?"

"I guess, well done. Do you have American cheese?"

You finally look back up at him, zapping him with your gaze. Your mouth slowly opens with a grin peeking through. "Are you British?"

He doesn't know how else to respond so he just nods slowly.

"I'm sorry for obsessing. We just don't get many British people down here. A Brit wanting American cheese." You return to writing on the pad about the cheese. "What brings you to this diner?"

"A little roadtripping. Tired from the road," he explains.

"Yeah, that's most people out here." You gaze around the room observing the other patrons. Most of them are old. Couples coming in for the early bird special. There's one family in the corner and a man drinking coffee at the counter. He's the only sore thumb. "Other than the regulars. Small town and all that." 

Alex doesn't mean to be rude just staring at you but he's worried he's made you self-conscious as you drop your hands from your hips and stare back at your notepad. "Anything else?" You ask. He shakes his head and hands you his menu. "I'll be right back with your Coke."

And he watches you walk away. That movement in your hips and a bandana sticking out the back pocket of your jeans. He originally blamed the fast beating of his heart on horniness but your cute country twang and your crooked teeth peeking out of your smile makes him think otherwise. It's not just lust. It's affection too.

You come back with a bottle of Coke with the lid popped off and a straw. "There you go."

"Thank you," he says. There's a pull that makes him talk before you leave, urging him to strike up some conversation. "Are you from here?"

You nod. "Whole life. Same house."

"Is there anything going on tonight?" It's the closest he can come to asking you out because part of him knows he should be back on the road within the hour but the other part begs him to stay even if he shouldn't because he'll have to leave eventually.

"There's always dancing if you want a proper Texan night," you tell him. "Well, proper Texan night for me."

He smiles at the smile that cracks on your face. "You like dancing?"

"Oh, I love it. Everyone gets into it, especially in this little community." He can imagine you, shaking your bum, enticing him into your grip.

Alex risks it and asks, "Can I take you out dancing tonight?"

Based on the grin that shoots across your face, he thinks he didn't go too far. "A British man wants to take me dancing. We'd be the talk of the town."

"You really must have nothing going on at this time if I'm going to be the talk of it."

"You'd be right, but..." You shake your head, looking down at him with a glowing stare. "I think you'd be the talk of the town anywhere."

He's blushing, bowing his head at the compliment, not expecting this over a Coke when he looks like he's been hit by a car and dragged for 10 blocks. "You must be the talk of the town then. A girl like you." He'd whistle if he could.

You giggle and cover your mouth with your hand. All cutesy, making his bones shutter. "You'd be surprised. I better bring the check to that table but I get off at 7 if you want to pick me up then."

It's 5 o'clock and he's got no fucking clue where he's going to sleep tonight. "I'd like to stay here if that's alright. I've got nowhere else to be."

"Alright, then."

He watches you the rest of your shift and he isn't subtle about it. His stare blazes and he might have looked down your shirt when he dropped his burger off. He'd call himself a perv if you didn't look him up and down in the same manner, desperate to know more about each other.

Then, suddenly at 7, after he's just paid for his meal, you come out from the backroom in a top and skirt polka dot set and cowboy boots. "I'm off, Sheila!" You shout to your co-worker. 

He watches the fabric brush against your skin as you exit from behind the counter with a denim jacket thrown over one arm and a cowboy hat held in the other. "For you, sir." You offer him the hat, placing it on his head, and fitting it down until it sits perfectly. "To look more the part."

"You certainly look the part." He doesn't know what to call you. Beautiful, hot, pretty, sexy, fuckable. It's all just a blur and he wants to reach out and take a chunk of your long hair behind your ear but he doesn't want to cross anything. He wants you to show him the ropes.

You walk outside, the heels of your boot and the soles of his shoes pushing the pebble-rock-filled parking around. "Oh." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. "Your tip." It's crisp $20 and a way bigger tip than his $9 meal.

You shake your head, handing the money back to him. "I can't take that. You're taking me out already. It wouldn't be right."

"It wouldn't feel right not to tip you," Alex tells you. He pushes the bill back into your hands.

The corners of your mouth turn up but you once again return the $20. "You're a kind gentleman but I can't take your money."

He accepts this and puts his wallet away. "I'll use it on drinks then."

The drive there is short—no more than 5 minutes. The town is small but he gets the feeling everyone is here tonight as the parking lot is full when you arrive and the noise bleeding out the bar has no competition with any city bar he's been to.

People are already stumbling out drunk when the two of you walk in and you're quickly greeted by a friend who smells like she just chugged a whole keg of beer. "This is Alex," you introduce, grabbing his shoulder, already making him flushed. "He's British."

"That's so cool!" She shouts. She's soon grabbed by her boyfriend as the two hit the dance floor.

"Are you going to introduce me as British to everyone?" He asks, charmed by your excitement over him.

"Why? You planning to hide it?"

He's laughing as you tug him over to the bar and demand 2 whiskeys from the bartender. You must know him as you know everyone because he quickly serves you two, passing over the other vendors. 

You down your drink in one go, clearly a pro and eager for a drink after a long day of work. "You ready to dance?"

He's still nursing his glass, having barely taken a sip. "I'm not very good."

You giggle. "You asked me out dancing and you're not very good? What were you planning on doing?"

He can't blame the alcohol; there's barely any in his system. He'll blame his hormones for the urge that possesses him to lean down and kiss you. It's by no means a sweet kiss. It's a lustful one with pent-up horniness that he's had since the beginning of this trip along with a complete desire for you.

You accept it completely. You tilt your head back and let him dominate your mouth, let him take control completely. He rounds his arms around you, pulling you into him, arching your back, pressing your hips right into his. It's a clearly desperate message that he's hoping you accept.

Soon, but not too soon, he releases your lips, your hips still dug against his. "I think you're probably much better at kissing than dancing."

He lets out a breathy chuckle. "You'd be right."

You pull him close, hugging him to you, your lips up against his ear. "If you dance with me, I'll let you watch me ride the bull." His eyes dart over to the mechanical bull in the corner and even with a fat old man riding on it, all the blood has suddenly left his head and rushed down and he thinks he'll pass out any second now. You pull back. "How's that sound?"

He nods dumbly as you drag him to the floor, drink still in his hand with a stunned look across his face. Luckily for him, it's not some organized line dancing although certain groups have formed and certain rhythms have been made that he just can't follow.

Alex looks over and you're moving, your boots sliding across the floor, and your skirt shifting around your legs. He's desperate to reach out and touch your hips with that sliver of skin that appears between your top and the skirt.

"C'mon!" You encourage him, waving your hand for him to join you.

He takes one step and he's already cringing. "I suck at this!" He yells over the country music.

You're tossing your head back in laughter, clasping your hands together in delight. "I can't lie. You're just so stiff." You move behind him and his breath escapes him as your hands land on his hips. "It's all about the hip movement, right?"

"Right." He smiles and reaches down, pulling your arms around him fully. You hug his back to your chest and lean your head on his shoulder. He's not paying attention to his swaying, slowly, unnoticeable getting lost in the music. He feels like he could fall asleep like this. You brush your hand down his chest to his stomach before reaching out for his half-emptied glass, chugging the remaining whiskey down.

You swallow the liquid and place your mouth next to his ear. "You ready for a fast one?"

You relinquish your hold before he can answer. It's like you know the bar band's setlist by heart as right after the slow one finishes, they launch into a quick one, getting nearly everyone in the bar up on their feet. Alex would feel intimidated if half of them weren't drunk and thinking he's already charmed you enough for you to at least find his awful dancing amusing. 

"Just follow my lead," you tell him as you stick a foot out and he follows you down the line. He feels like he's doing the hokey pokey and, like he was at Jacob Stein's Bar Mitzvah, he sucks at it.

You show everyone in the bar up, shuffling your feet around, shaking your hips, and doing it all while being the hottest one in there, which isn't saying much there isn't much competition in the beauty department and the dance department is limited other than the old fat geezer that was on the bull earlier that is now surprisingly good at twirling.

Alex copies the other men and puts his hands on his belt, his thumbs holding the buckle. You look over and smile affectionately. "You're already getting the hang of it."

"If I'm already getting the hang of it, can we stop then?" He feels out of shape, out of breath, and out of the loop as everyone claps their hands.

You giggle. "Make it to the end of the song." He supposes that's fair until it feels like the song is never going to end. He swears they've been doing this for 10 minutes and the band is only getting faster. He's sweaty and the Texan heat isn't helping whatsoever. 

But you're still on top of your shit, of course. The heat has only made you glisten and you're dancing on beat with a smile on your face. Your outfit's fabric dancing on its own and your cowboy boots pound the floor.

Then, relief comes as the band ends with resounding cheers. The dancing settles and Alex wipes his forehead, completely exhausted. "Bull time?" He inquires.

You smirk. "Sure, but you gotta pay for it."

"It's with your tip anyways."

You hook your arm with him as he digs into his wallet. "Well, this feels more gentlemanly than overtipping."

"It wasn't overtipping and I'm probably getting more out of this than you." He hands the money to the operator.

You raise your eyebrows. "Is that so?" You kiss me before escaping behind the gate of the machine. Alex moves out of the way of the line and leans on the wall as you mount the bull and he's never been more focused on something in his life, memorizing the way your legs grip the machine.

It starts up, slowly at first. Your hips move with it, creating a pattern, one he wants to recreate, except, you know, he's the bull. But then the machine starts moving rapidly and you're quick to fall off it in laughter. You last 20 seconds, by no means a record.

You stand up and readjust your clothes, exiting the ride. "I've never done that before," you say when you approach him.

He figured you to be an expert mechanical bull rider. You know every other inch of this place. "Why not?" You ask.

"I guess I was always scared but it was a lot of fun," you tell him, clutching to him for balance, mildly dizzy.

He manages to say, "Good" before your hand grabs the back of his neck and pulls his face down to yours and kisses you harshly. It's overtaking and everything else feels unimportant as his hands touch the soft fabric on the small of your back. He doesn't think there should ever be space between the two of you because your hips against his hips and your boobs against his chest and your lips against his lips all leave him breathless.

You both pause for a breath. "Any good hotels around here?" He breathes out.

"There's a motel down the road," you tell him, attaching your lips back to his. 

The kiss continues before he pulls back again to say, "Let's go there."

"Uh-huh," you say against his lips.

It takes you a while to actually get to his car. Every inch of the way, one of you stops to kiss some part of the other's body. When he actually manages to turn the car on, you start kissing his neck hungrily. "You can't do that," he warns.

You kiss up to his ear. "Why?" 

And there were valid reasons but he can't think of them and he isn't sure how he manages it but they arrive at the motel in one piece. 

One part of the journey they actually do keep their lips off each other is the front desk. "Just 1 room. 1 bed," Alex requests.

"For the two of you?" The lady questions. He thinks she might know you but neither of you has said anything to confirm that theory.

"Yes," he nods. "1 room. 1 bed. 1 night." He's desperate. Can feel the boner growing and this lady is taking forever to hand him the key to the shitty motel room that she'll overcharge him for.

"Hmm," she hums. She looks through her books but this motel hasn't been updated since 1952 and no one is probably staying here but yet she's acting like there are no vacancies. "And you'll be sleeping in the same bed?"

"Yes," he says frustratedly. "Hence the 1 bed."

"Hmm." It's like she's edging him or something, finally she stands and grabs a key from the back wall. "Check out is at 10. We have complimentary coffee but you'll have to pay for the WiFi. The TV remote is in the drawer next to the Bible." 

Silence transpires and the key is still in her hand. You let go of him and reach over the corner with the palm of your hand out. "Thank you," you say as a request for her to hand the key.

She drops it in your hand and you're quick to race off down to your room. After the door slams shut behind you two, there isn't any reason to hesitate as your movements become overcome with lust, clutching at every scrap of each other you can.

His shirt goes flying, your shirt goes flying. He backs you up onto the bed, collapsing on top of you. He's kissing down your neck, unlatching your bra, and smothering himself in your tits. Your eyes drift closed as his lips wrap around your nipple, sucking gently as his teeth graze the nub before soothing it with his tongue. You moan, pushing your chest out a bit as his hand cups your other breast, squeezing it lightly before he brings his mouth over and latches onto that one. He hums around your breast, biting and sucking and licking at your hard nipple.

You can feel his cock hardening against your thigh. Giving one last nip, Alex pulls away and moves his attention downward, kissing down your stomach, his tongue tracing. "So hot," he mumbles against your skin.

"You too," you shakily say. You sit up, pushing him to a standing position as your head hovers just at his belly button. Your hands reach out to his belt, playing with that buckle just like he was earlier in the bar. You look up at him, a smirk playing on your lips as he struggles for air. You pull the belt out of the buckle and unbutton his jeans. You shuffle your skirt off and drop to your knees in just your panties, taking his zipper down with you.

You wrap your fingers around the hardening base of his cock, having trouble keeping a straight face at the sight of him desperately struggling. You smile as you press a teasing kiss to the side of his shaft. "You know that thing they say about things being bigger in Texas." You shake your head as you teasingly pump him. "Not true. Not like this, at least."

You take the head into your mouth. You keep your gaze up as you lick the slit, the tip of your tongue tracing the thin opening and earning a loud moan from Alex. His body trembles and chest heaves with each swipe of your tongue. Your lips wrapped around it as your tongue gifts it with attention, alternating between teasing the slit and swirling around the tip, your eyes never breaking contact with Alex. 

As you start moving your lips down and taking more of his cock into your warm mouth, Alex feels his knees starting to go weak. He tries to brace himself on you, a hand on your head, but his legs are still trembling.

Feeling the way his thighs are shaking, you pull back and give him a soft smile. "Come sit on the bed, baby," you instruct, taking his hand off of you and leading him over to the edge of the bed.

He flops down on it, not having a moment to think before you're pushing his legs apart and kneeling between them, your arms laying on his thighs as you take hold of his cock's base again and guides it back into your mouth.

"Fuck that feels so good," he moans, sighing as he leans back on his arms and watching you work away at him. There's nothing quite like the sight of his cock in your pretty mouth, looking into your captivating eyes as you suck him nice and slow, lips and tongue touching every inch of his shaft. 

You work on his cock agonizingly slow, making sure you've lapped at every inch of sensitive flesh before you move on, your tongue curling around his thick shaft as your lips slide further and further down until it's impossible for you to fit any more of it in your mouth. His eyes flutter closed now as he feels you swallowing around him, the tip of his cock pressed right up against the back of your throat.

You pull back before you gag, sucking in a breath before going back. Your lips move from the head down over him to get to his base. You can feel his cock getting stiffer against your lips with every kiss.

Alex brushes your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, curling his fingers around the back of your head to hold it just like he's wanted to all night. You smile softly up at him, a silent thanks, but a lust creeps in darkening your gaze as his hand steadies on the back of your head.

He pulls you back to his crotch, making you open your mouth wide and take as much of his length as you can, hollowing out your cheeks and letting him set the pace, guiding your head back and forth on his cock.

Alex starts slow, letting you get used to the change in pace before he starts to pull you in faster, soon being able to feel his tip poking the back of your throat. He's content to just watch your head bob between his legs for a bit, not wanting to force you to swallow any more than you can take, until his hips start to move of their own accord. He first just arches off the couch to get closer to your mouth, then actually thrusting into you, fucking your face shallowly.

Alex grunts loudly, unable to control himself, his eyes rolling back into his head. "F-Fuck, yeah, fuck yeah, baby, that's it," he moans, the feel of your wet hot mouth turning his bones to jelly. "You take it so good."

But he can feel it, himself getting sloppier and closer and this can't end too soon, not in your mouth with you on your knees. He pulls you off him, tilting your head back to look at him clearly in the eye. "Get up here," he tells you, patting the bed.

You hop up onto the bed quickly. He pushes you down and reaches into your underwear, running his fingers through you, feeling the eagerness drip. He kisses you as he pushes the fabric to the side and starts fingering you. You moan against his mouth and it's so hot he almost lets go there. "Just put it in me," you huff out in between kisses.

He's unable to hold back a grin and pulls away to yank your panties down your legs, throwing them wherever everything else has been discarded. He guides his spit-slicked dick towards your hole. He rubs the tip through your folds before he pushes himself pushing himself in as you start to moan at the slow stretch until he's completely buried in you.

Alex starts rocking his hips, trying your instructions from earlier. He kisses you again, unable to avoid those lips. He swallows your moans and smiles into the kiss.

You arch your back into him, pressing your chest against his. Alex's fingers digging into your skin as he pushes into you harder. Strangled moans fill the room as he bucks and rocks his hips. Your thighs already starting to shake, curling around you, and pulling him in deeper the more desperate you get. 

"More," you moan. So, he starts thrusting into you like he knows you want it, bypassing any slowness completely and getting right to the sharp thrusts. He slides in and out quickly, hitting that spot inside you just a little bit harder each time. "Is this what you wanted? Huh?"

"Y-Yes," you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulder as he collides into you.

Alex wraps his hands around your thighs and hoists them up a bit more until your legs are pushed up to waist level. It hits that spot even deeper and you're completely gone by then, lost in the flutter on your eyelashes, clenching around him.

Feeling you get tighter and tighter with each pump drives his hips to move faster, bending just a bit more at the knees to get that perfect angle to pound into you just where he needs to be, and just like that, you're falling apart moments later, your pussy locking around his cock as you come and pulling you in so tight that he can barely keep fucking you through it without blowing his own load.

You've just barely recovered from your orgasm when he pulls out and you reach up to take him into your mouth. You cover his cock completely as he is unable to stop himself from thrusting into your mouth, cum shoved down your throat.

He lands beside you and then it's just heavy breathing and the regret of not turning on the AC the moment you walked in. "I like that a lot," you tell him.

"Good." He smiles over at you and you're already looking over at him. He'd pull you into him if he wasn't so sweaty. "That was fucking great."

You chuckle and stand slowly, readjusting and walking over to the panel for the small AC, turning it on. "You want to take a shower?"

The answer is, of course, yes. With your naked body and cheeky grin staring him down, already turning him on again, and the idea of cooling water pooling around him right now sounds like heaven.

Which has to then be ruined by water that came straight from hell. He can barely touch the water with his hand without helping back at the burn. "It must have overheated from the sun beating down on the pipes. Shitty motel anyway," you say.

"I'm so fucking hot," he complains, tilting his head back.

"Yeah." He looks over at you and your biting your lip, eyes lewd and clearly enjoying his nudity.

He proudly smirks. "You already want to go again?"

"The tiles are cool." That's true, his feet are the only things not burning.

Alex bends down, his butt hitting the cool tiles in relief. You straddle over him, your knees gaining relief. He's finally able to pull you close again, boobs against him, and kisses on your lip. "You want me to go down on you?"

You shake your head and pick up his harding cock in between you two, rising on your knees. "Just fuck me again." And then you're sinking down before he can even process it. His mind blurry as you take him all in again.

His cock surrounded by tight, wet warmth once again, as you move back and forth on his lap. Alex knows he isn't going to last very long, already a complete mess as you grab the back of his neck, controlling him, controlling every movement of both of you back. One flesh.

Alex starts rubbing your clit, determined to have some say in this fucking, determined to making you come as soon as he can. He fumbles a bit, his fingers slipping in your arousal before he finally is able to press his fingertips against your clit and apply pressure. He can feel you tighten around his cock immediately in reaction to his touch.

You rock together desperately, the sounds of their moans and slapping skin echo through the bathroom. It happens just a few minutes later, when he suddenly thrusts up into you, overtaking you completely, throwing you over the edge. He lifts you off him quickly, his cum shooting onto his stomach as his head knocks against the wall. 

"Holy shit," he finally utters.

"Yeah," you say. You can barely keep your head up, landing it on his collarbone. He reaches up and holds it tenderly, releasing the hardness from before, finally laying in softness. "We should probably go to sleep in bed."

He nods in agreement. Finding the strength in him to somehow make it into bed. He pulls you into him, just a light sheet over the two of you, still stuck in the heat. He doesn't mean to ask, but thinks out loud, "Come with me."

"Hmm?" You hum, half-asleep.

"I don't know what I'm saying," he says.

About a minute later, when he's almost certain you've fallen asleep, you pull yourself closer to him and mumble, "I've never been to Dallas before."

*

a/n: alex in a cowboy hat might be my favourite picture ever and i struggle using it knowing i'll never be able to use it again. please, alex, more cowboy hat pictures!!

[xhollowfaerie]

Disease

(So I accidentally managed to bug my previous post that was the prequel to this. It got lost in the Fade. This is the follow-up of Rook also trying to find some relief after she gets very riled up watching Lucanis cook, inspired by this, of course! Here is the fanfic with all these snippets on my ao3! Warning: Lucanis being extremely hot, nsfw, masturbation (not too graphic). Enjoy! <3)

-

Rook felt her chest tighten as she watched Lucanis, his skillful hands chopping away; occasionally wiping on a soft towel, dripping with the juices of a lemon; the tiny amount of flour leaving a kiss on his alluring, sharp cheekbone… 

He looked so good in that apron, dashing, his gorgeous hair neatly tied into a bun; she could see the tiniest streaks of gray, digging her nails into her thigh with a muted hum. 

Her breath caught in her throat as his nimble fingers grabbed a chunk of meat, pushing it down onto the cutting board, holding it in place… she noticed the faint trace of veins on his hands; the wetness of her tongue darting over her lips left a cold sensation, making it all the worse.

Lucanis expertly slid the knife across the meat, slicing it into thin sections. Kore pressed her legs together, trying to subtly fan herself with a stray napkin. He washed his hands off before jotting down a note.

“Ah, perfect. Now, you said you wanted to help? I was going to ask if you could- Rook? Are you alright?” When he glanced at her, her entire face was blooming; the rosy shades of her hair blended so beautifully with the redness in her cheeks; she seemed bewildered, taken aback when the Crow addressed her. The elf let out a small gasp and covered her mouth bashfully. He could swear he saw a drop of sweat roll down her clavicle. Did she have a fever? He was definitely going to offer her his coat next time they went to the Anderfels.

“Kore?” His brows furrowed and he placed the pen down, taking a step towards her; she backed away in sync and gulped, shuddering wordlessly. His soul ached.

“... Lo siento. Have I done something wrong?” Rook’s heart thrashed in her chest at the innocent look of a kicked puppy plastered all over his breathtaking features. She knew she was being unreasonable, but all she could think about was seeing that face between her legs.

“No” she managed to choke out, finally peeling her hungry gaze off of him. “No, Creators-” it was too late, she already said it reflexively, even if she meant to stop using that word- “no, never, you’ve never wronged me. Not for a second.” He was so incredibly confused. Spite circled from behind him with an evil grin. ‘Rook lusts. Shaking. She wants us.’

The Crow’s eyes widened, a faint blush dusting his face; he cleared his throat and tried to wave Spite away. “Whatever it is, I can help. Do you want me to stab someone? Tell me what you need, Rook.” Kore looked as if he had just slapped her (little did he know), and she somehow got even redder. She felt the room suffocate her. Instinctively, her hands scrambled to undo a button on her shirt. Too hot.

“I- I-” 

She looked at him again, and her legs wanted so badly to move towards him; her hands clutched her clothes, and he felt his own resolve begin to tremble.

There was… no way Spite wasn’t just messing with him.

Right?

He inhaled slowly, studying her face. His jaw clenched ever so slightly, his eyes narrowed.

‘Yes, yes. Take her, Lucanis. She craves us.’

His fingers twitched. He tried to spur himself on, find the courage to approach her. Maybe… Just, maybe - “I’ll- be right back!” she squeaked before bolting out of the dining room. As soon as she was out, she leaned against the door, sliding halfway down. She lowered her damp forehead and breathed heavily, closing her eyes. She stood there for a second, clutching her knees.

“This is so bad” she whispered, hands covering her face in shame.

“Trouble in paradise?” Neve teased with a knowing smirk, scaring the ever living crap out of her. Rook jumped in place, clutching onto the door for balance.

“N-Neve?!” “It’s okay. I won’t tell.” “N-No, w-what? W-We weren’t, I-”

“Oh, spare me, Trouble. Whatever you’re worried about, I’m sure Lucanis can handle.”

The detective left Kore with a wink, which did not help lessen her condition any.

This must be what they call a walk of shame, Rook thought as she headed to the communal lavatory in order to splash some cold water at her face.

Her trembling hands held onto the shell-shaped marble sink, glaring at her own reflection. “This is so… so inappropriate! I… No, he is a dear friend, my closest-”

Her own voice cut itself off. She shook her head and squealed, tapping her face repeatedly. “No, no, stop it, this is- I can’t think like this, not with Lucanis ! Not with- S…Spite!”

Maybe she just needed a second to cool off.

. . . 

“L-Lucanis!” she mewled into her palm, squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment. She felt so humiliated, despite the intimacy of her own bedroom. This was so wrong. How could she ever face him again? 

Bitter and sweet, like a kiss goodbye .

Gods, she loved his voice, his accent; she was so enamoured with all of him; he had her falling in love with Treviso, getting so close to the Crows they treated her like one of their own; she could never touch a drop of coffee again without picturing his lips on hers. His rare, precious smile. 

She wanted to protect him so dearly. Rook wanted to hold his hands, to cradle him, to lay his head on her chest; to run her fingers through his dark hair, to feel his beard on every inch of her skin. It was genuinely distracting how obsessed she was with his hands, with his fingers, with the little playful twink in his eyes. The way he freaked out over the Gods and their ancient magic, his dynamic with Taash; he always made Rook laugh so easily. Lucanis was so, so careful with her, as well as the rest of the team. She had never expected him to be so expressive, so charming.

His expensive, elegant clothes, always so neat, so proper. His collection of daggers, his knives. His tone when he got cocky. How he looked when he cooked, when he was focused. When he was angry. The few moments of softness between them. The intensity in his eyes, the bags beneath… His humanity. Every single thing about him.

When they met, she wanted to say she was scared, but despite his reputation, the first time she laid eyes on him, all she could feel was a thrill . 

A thrill for danger.

You like to walk a little close to the edge .

He didn’t scare her. Neither did Spite. She was intrigued. Or rather, she was enthralled.

She knew she was a lost cause when they went on a little shopping trip through the market in Treviso. Every time he spoke of another companion, so concerned with buying each of them a gift, her heart swelled. Kore remembered the way the spices in the market overpowered her, how handsome he looked in the twinkling lights. She had bought him the wyvern dagger on a whim, a compulsion, moved by whatever was stirring inside her; so desperate to show him he was needed. That he was a good man. That he was loved, and he deserved the world. Honey and lavender cream. Sweet, intriguing.

She wanted to show him more. She wanted to kiss him for hours on end, to worship him; to make him forget, the Ossuary, Zara, Illario, the Crows, the Vints, the Antaam, the Gods, she wanted his mind to be empty of everything, everything except for her. She wanted him to feel safe. She wanted to help him feel whole.

She wanted to see his face engulfed with pleasure.

S-so, so close-!

Something must be wrong with her; not only had she never experienced this before… it was so unbearably strong , so intoxicating. Her desire for him, her affection, they weaved around her so tightly, he never left her mind.

Releasing her pent up feelings like this wasn’t even the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. It only helped for a brief moment… terror swirled inside of her as she wondered how much more of this it would take before he found her out.

Would he be upset? Angry? Disgusted? Would he despise her? Would his eyes turn purple…? Would he grab her by the throat, pull her hair- or, maybe, he’d just kiss her neck, lovingly pin her thigh down, keep his gloves on as he slides his fingers in- 

Tell me what you need, Rook.

“Have you guys seen Rook?” Taash’s voice outside her room made her freeze in horror, painfully biting into the side of her thumb to calm her panting.

“Lucanis is trying to find her. Said she just ran away outta nowhere.”

Rook let out a quiet groan of regret.

“I’m so terrible” she whispered, sinking into her own shame.

‘Yes, you are. Terrible. What should they do to you?’

Dread Wolf’s asshole - that voice, again! Luring her, taunting her. The voice of a siren.

At that point, Kore had already figured it out, even though she denied it so vehemently.

“Lust” she whispered shyly. “Please, I… I love him. Don’t make me ruin everything.”

‘So innocent. You know you won’t be able to focus, not unless you finish.’

Kore didn’t even know how to deny it. She was right.

I want. To talk. To Rook!

She really was sick, even fantasizing about Spite… But Kore had never felt so needed , before; she adored his excitement, his fervor, his passion, his attention, his determination. His desperation , for her, and her alone…

Her fingers trembled as they forced the pillow over her face, arching her back helplessly.

“Mmf-fuck, S-Spite, L-Lucanis…! IAh- A-Ar lath ma…!”

. . . Spite kicked his feet, sitting on the counter next to Lucanis. He was lost in deep focus, attempting to nudge Lucanis’s coffee cup off. He let out a small noise of frustration. It wasn’t working! “What are you doing now?” Lucanis spoke to nobody in particular, his voice echoing in the dining room as he continued to brood over the boiling pot. Before Spite could open his mouth to answer, a shiver ran down the length of his spine. The demon thought he heard Rook’s voice calling out to him… moaning for him. Elated, he jumped off the counter, taking Lucanis’s coffee with him to the stone floor. “Ay, pendejo! I just made that…” Lucanis grumbled, grabbing a rag to wipe the spill.

‘She called for me!’ Spite grinned, kneeling down next to Lucanis. ‘Spite felt.’ “I’m sure she did” he muttered.

‘I. Miss. Rook! Go find! So boring. Without Rook. Lucanis, no fun- Wait!’

Spite shot up again, aggressively sniffing around the two of them.

“Mierda, you really are just a dog” the Crow sighed deeply, straining the rag into the sink with a look of disappointment. He tried to inhale the delicious scent, as if it would be enough to keep him awake.

‘Smells. Like. Lucanis. Coffee. Eugh. But. No, no! Something else! Sweat. Want . Like Rook. But different . More… intense. Vanilla. Amber. Spices.’

Lucanis wanted to ignore him, but his eyes blinked harder than usual. Itchy.

He turned around sharply in realization, scanning their environment. There was no way. Spite was the only demon there. He near enough stopped his own heartbeat, just to better hear even the tiniest noise around them.

Nothing, other than Spite’s grating voice.

‘Pink! Hungry’ he pointed, but before Lucanis could notice anything, any trace of it was gone.

“Humor isn’t your strong suit” Lucanis groaned in exhaustion, reaching for the nearly-empty jar of coffee beans. Maybe Spite had been pulling a dumb prank, but he was still on edge. Even the smallest chance of Kore being in danger made every hair on his body stand.

‘But-’

The imposing doors creaked open, and a streak of pink locks peered through, voice meek.

“Sorry…! I’m back. Still need me?”

Lucanis felt every muscle in his body relax. He replied without thinking.

“Always.”

Lust smirked, her claws digging deeper into Spite as she covered his mouth from behind, purring into his ear.

‘Shhh. Hush, now. We both want the same thing.’

[whiskeyghoul]

Coloring pages || [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A/N: This has been stuck in my mind for weeks now and I needed to put it down. This is the first fic I had proof read by someone! Enjoy and please like and reblog when you do. 

Tags: Fluff, tooth rotting fluff, just fluff, coloring pages, spencer reid x gn!reader I think.

You stood outside of the Quantico building, leaning against the side of your car. The air had the early autumn chill, it wasn't cold but your oversized sweater sure made it a lot more bearable to be outside of the car for an extended period. You were waiting for your date to be finished with his work. Boyfriend. You corrected yourself internally. Boyfriend of 6 weeks, 3 days and 5 hours to be exact. Which, with Spencer as your boyfriend you had to be.

He is handsome, kind and so incredibly intelligent it is sometimes just a tad frustrating. His rambles were interesting and you could probably listen to him for hours on end. You also wanted to spend time together just enjoying each other's company. Being together, that was your type of love. The affirming touches that the other was there. The comfortable silence you enjoyed so much where you could hear soft intakes of breaths. Glances at one another to confirm that the other was still there. You loved when Spencer had invited you over to his apartment once, he still had some work to finish so you'd picked up a book from the many shelves and made yourself comfortable on his worn couch. You had looked up from the book and over to him, seen him deep in thought as he looked at the lines of writing, jotting down notes next to it. His brow slightly furrowed, lips pursed ever so slightly as he thought particularly hard. Completely unaware of your admirations of him from the couch. That's what you liked.

People began filing out of the building as the sun set, you watched and watched to catch the first sign of Spencer. When you did see that messy brown hair bounce slightly as he walked down the steps a smile spread across his face. You mirrored his expression, every time you saw him it brought a smile to your lips. A gust of wind picked up, ruffling his hair even further as he bound over his long strides causing him to stand before you in, what felt like, mere seconds. "Hey." He said softly. His hand reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear that had been swept up by the wind. His fingertip grazed the side of your temple. "Hi." You returned just as softly. "How was work?" You asked as you looked into those big, brown eyes. They were filled with warmth as he looked into yours. "It was good, no new cases which I was hoping for since I wanted to see you." Spencer spoke his emotions as he pulled his hand away. "Good, because I have something planned." You said with a smile, turning on your heels and walking back to the driver's side.

"You have something planned?" Spencer asked as he quickly dove into the passenger seat. Tucking his bag between his feet. "I do." You say as you put the seatbelt on, feeling his eyes on your profile. "Can I know?" He asked, impatiently tapping his fingers against his thighs, an air of excitement surrounding him. "Not yet. It's a surprise." Your voice sounds melodic, sing-song-y even, on the last sentence as you turned the key and started up the car. "Tell me more about your day." You say as the music over the speakers softly filled the car and the heater worked to warm your cold tinged hands.

Spencer had talked about his day, you were intermittently interrupting him with questions before he asked about your day. You were still going on about a coworker who had annoyed you when you parked the car in front of your destination. The bookstore and café combo where you had your first date. You got out and quickly snatched the tote bag you had haphazardly laid on the backseat before turning back to Spencer. "The bookstore? Why are we here?" He looked at you quizzically. You rolled your eyes playfully and put the tote bag over your shoulder. "Because we're going for coffee." You answered and held out your hand which he took. You saw his eyes dart towards the tote bag, that soft crease between his eyebrows forming as he pictured all the possibilities of what its contents could be. “Coffee at 5 P.M.? You know that feeling unaffected by caffeine could be a sign of a genetic difference or you have built an increasingly large tolerance. This could be a problem once you start ingesting dangerous amounts of caffeine unbeknownst to you.” Spencer rambled as you entered the coffee shop. You rolled your eyes playfully, “I’ll get a tea then.” you say as you get hit by the smell of fresh brewed coffee, pastries and books. There was music softly playing in the background. The shop was warm.

Pulling Spencer along to the table where your first date had been, you sat down, shedding your fall jacket and hanging it on the back of the chair. The tote bag was placed on the table, only a slight peak of its contents spilling out. Spencer’s eyes darted to it, wanting to know what you had planned and why you were being so secretive. Quickly, your hand found its way to cover the contents, pressing the tote bag shut. “After we get our drinks.” You teased, there was a sparkle in your eyes, seeing him this interested in what you were planning made it all the more fun to keep him in the dark.

“Really? Can’t you just tell me?” Spencer questioned, giving you the most pleading eyes he could muster in that moment, you were surprised he didn’t pout at you. Just then the waitress came over, taking your coffee and tea orders before walking back behind the bar. When you had looked at her Spencer seemed to have taken his chance and snuck a peek inside of the bag, before you knew it he was pulling out a set of colored pencils. “Spencer!” You admonished playfully, snatching the colored pencils out of his hand and sticking them back in the bag. “What? I was just curious.” He played innocent, giving that sweet smile he knew made you weak. “You brought colored pencils?” He tilted his head slightly, his soft curls falling away from his face. You reached out across the table, tucking a stray curl behind his ear like he had done with you before, “I did.” Your answer came with a soft sigh before folding the tote bag slightly open and pulling out the matching set of colored pencils and a book of coloring pages. “I guess the cat is out of the bag.”

“Why did you bring coloring pages?” Spencer looked confused at the book, flipping through the blank pages filled with outlines of forest scenes and insects. An amused smile on his lips, “Aren’t we too old for that?” He asked, his tone was a slight teasing one. You know he didn’t mean it to be hurtful at that moment, but still he didn’t seem as excited about it as you were. You bit your lip, holding back the twinge of disappointment that shot through your heart.

“I thought it would be fun to do something together. It’s not a children's coloring book, but you know… I wanted to work on a page together, so we have something we both did.” Your voice had an edge to it, the disappointment you tried to hide still managed to bubble its way to the top. It felt horrible, that such a little thing could make this big of an impact. Your hands fidgeted with the end of your sweater, picking at the sleeve with a hint of defeat. Eyes cast down on the table. “Woah, hey, wait no I- I didn’t mean anything bad- I just-” Spencer stumbled over his words, quickly reaching his hand across the table to hold yours. Moving his thumb soothingly across the back of your hand. “If you want to, we will. It looks fun. Really.” He corrected himself, his eyes finding yours. You could see the hint of regret at his earlier words, his sincerity in his current ones. The disappointment still lingered, but the warmth from his hand was quickly spreading through your body to wash away any doubt. “Really?” You asked again, wanting the extra confirmation. You attempted a smile, it was half hearted still but at least it was somewhat reassuring to yourself. “Really, I just get to pick what we’re working on.” Spencer smiled back, giving your hand a soft squeeze before letting go to pick up the book again.

You watched Spencer flip through, taking a quick look at the different pages until he found one to his liking. Placing the book open on the table, a flowery field with butterflies and bumble bees. “This one.” he said, looking to you for confirmation like he could make the wrong choice. “That’s perfect.” Your voice was soft, still trying to get over the disappointment from before. It was nearly gone, leaving you with mostly warmth in your heart. You grabbed the two sets of colored pencils, opening them, and setting them out on the table. Just then your drinks were brought out, a chai latte for you after Spencer’s comment about caffeine, he still had a cappuccino which made you smile a bit. You handed a set of pencils to Spencer before picking up your chai and taking a tentative sip. It was hot but delicious. 

“Alright, so how do we start?” Spencer asked, looking at the page then back at you. “I want to color it together. You can start over on your side, I start on mine, meet in the middle?” You said, placing your cup back down. “Won’t it be mismatched? should we at least have the same color green for the stems?” He suggested, suddenly seeming a bit more into it than he had been before. “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. The same blue for the sky too?” You added, opening your own set of pencils. You picked out a blue, matching it with one from Spencer's set. He did the same with the green, handing you the matching pencil with a smile. “Let’s get coloring then.” He said before turning his attention to the paper. You followed suit, touching the colored pencil to the paper and began to fill in the white space.

You kept picking up pencils, filling in the flowers with different colors, sometimes your hand would meet with Spencer’s while drawing and he’d look up with a smile. Soft bumps and touches that affirmed you were both there. Light chuckles and laughter with your coloring interrupted by each other. Your heart fluttered at how he had thrown all his earlier judgment aside to make you happy. Looking up he was focused, smiling at the paper as he decided what colors would fit best. Sometimes asking for your opinion. Intermittently his drawing was interrupted by sips of coffee. Wiping the residue off of his lips with his sleeve before going back to the page.  The way he was focused was cute, hairs falling in front of his eyes, a grin on his face as he gave in to the childlike whimsy of doing a coloring page. It was refreshing to see him with his shoulders relaxed, focusing on anything but words. Letting the surrounding sounds of the shop take over. Slowly you felt yourself be more and more focused on Spencer rather than the drawing. Once he noticed, he looked up, the smile still plastered on his face, “What?” he laughed out the question. One of the more beautiful sounds you’ve heard, though you wouldn’t tell him that. You shook your head no, laughing softly “Nothing.” You answered with a genuine smile. “There’s something.” Spencer pushed, still smiling, holding back the laughter that bubbled up inside of him. “You looked very focused, that’s all.” You answered, shrugging nonchalantly before you finished up your drink that had gone lukewarm from the amount of time you had been sitting there. “Well, so did you. Just not on the coloring anymore.” Spencer teased, making a blush creep to your cheeks. Biting your tongue to hold back from throwing out a retort that would have been completely unnecessary. 

Your eyes cast down to the coloring page, it was almost completely filled with your combined efforts of removing every spot of white. It was beautiful to you, a bit messy but that made it perfect. Spencer looked down too, regarding the page with a certain air of pride. “I think we should frame it.” he spoke up. Your eyes darted back to his face, to see if he was joking or if it was serious. His expression was relaxed, no sign of any funny business. “Why?” You asked, a hint of confusion in your voice this time around. “It’s the first thing we made together.” His words made your heart skip a beat, the way he was so sincere had such an effect on you. “We’ll have to make another for my place then.” you answered. “Or you’ll just have to come over by my place more often to see it.” Spencer smiled, his words a thinly veiled excuse to see you in his home, to have you over, spend time together. 

You smiled, quickly leaning over the table to steal a kiss after he finished his sentence. “I’d like that a lot.”

[lov1ngreid]

BOYS LIKE YOU | 3

(pairings): high school!spencer + cheerleader!reader

(warnings): mentions of blood

(word count): 3.2k

(author’s note): this chapter’s a little short but i wanted to have something out for you guys! the next chapter will be the last (thank god) also not proofread so bare with me, but merry christmas!

listen to what i did when i wrote this! ➘

“A practice date?” Gianna spits, confusion painting her pretty tanned face while she shoves her fork into whatever cafeteria food was served that day “come. on.” she groans only to shoot another displeased look in your direction, you only decide look up at her from your textbook when she began to get just a little too loud. Silencing her with your eyes, she only rolls hers in response before moving her attention back to her food.

“I didn’t know what to say!” you whisper-yell scanning your surroundings quickly to make sure nobody other than her could hear your conversation, she quickly raises one eyebrow, completely unsatisfied with your answer “and you can’t talk” you shoot back at her raising your right hand to point your gel pen at her face.

“you’re the one who called her over in the first place! I was just gonna let him wander around until he got to nervous and gave up” quickly, you take an opportunity to glance down the end of the cafeteria table where Sadie sat, completely indulged in her own conversation.

Gianna purses her lips thinking, before deciding to hold her hands up in defence “to be honest I kinda wanted to see your reaction” she chuckles to herself for a moment earning a slap to the wrist from you, you shake your head for a moment, absolutely not impressed by her answer.

You both sit in comfortable silence for a moment, your pen quickly jotting down notes from your history textbook while your cold cafeteria lunch sat beside you “If you’re not gonna eat it can I?” Gianna asks already grabbing your red tray from your side before you could answer, she knew your answer before you said it.

Nodding quickly before turning your attention back to your notes, the cafeteria chatter fills your ears causing you to zone into your notes “uh oh” you hear Gianna’s half full mouth admit pulling your attention from your notes onto her. Eyes wide, her stare is set down the left side of the long cafeteria table and you can’t help but follow her gaze down the rows of blue and white cheerleading uniforms before they land on one in particular.

Sadie Keller, her dark cherry red hair and perfect manicured nails, perfect manicured nails that happened to be in someone’s hair.

Spencer Reid’s hair.

You felt like your eyes were quite literally bludging out of your head from how hard you were staring, Sadie sat next to him giggling as she raked her hands through his pretty brown hair, dragging them down his arms while they chatted to other girls on the team.

“He’s cute right” Ivy leans into you, her eyes also glued on the two at the end of the table “I didn’t even know he went here” she adds tilting her head a little causing her long blonde ponytail to tilt with her.

“You called him a freak nerd last period” Gianna mentions from across the table “to his face” she adds a disgusted look filling her face as she waited for Ivy’s response.

“Oh” she deadpans looking between Gianna and then Spencer again “was that him?” She asks obliviously cocking her head once more, Gianna nods her head in response “oh well he’s cute” she shrugs completely unaware of her insensitivity while she goes back to whatever conversation she was indulging in prior.

You felt every emotion bubble in the pit of your stomach, you had to look away before you screamed in her face. The worst part was you couldn’t even blame Sadie, Spencer was cute and funny, and incredibly smart, and if you knew he was Sadie’s tutor maybe you’d make up some sort of terrible lie about him so she wouldn’t like him. Which in hindsight would be horrible of you, but maybe it would’ve prevented having to see such a disgusting scene play out in front of you.

Although every possible emotion swirled inside of you, you didn’t know which one would win until you felt your eyes stinging a little while they brimmed with soft salty tears, mortified you were about to cry in front of the whole cheer team you slammed your books shut earning a few looks from your peers around you, gathering them to your chest before rushing from the cafeteria to the quiet unoccupied hallway.

Small sniffles followed your footsteps as you turned the corner to find your locker clicking it open angrily sliding your books into their respective spots. Pathetic was the only word you could describe yourself in that moment, standing at your locker alone, crying over a boy who had absolutely no interest in you.

The silence in the hallway is calming, only the distance sound of cafeteria chatter and quiet squeaky footsteps from a passerby.

“Hi” a male voice chirps snapping you from your Spencer induced brain fog, almost knocking the wind from you in shock.

“Oh my god- you scared me” you breath grasping your chest a little, your eyes widen at your state, turning away from him a little to quickly wipe the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“I’m sorry” he laughs a little, his brows furrowing as you turn around “I just wanted to ask if we were still practice dating tonight?” a concerned look painted across his face as you turned back, he noticed your eyes immediately.

Arguably his favourite thing about you.

“Are you okay?” He questions noticing your nose red from rubbing it, and the small sniffles escaping while he talked, he could tell you were crying, he just didn’t know why.

“I’m fine” you mumble moving your books around not daring to make eye contact with him, instead facing your locker while you conversed “And we might have to reschedule, I’m really busy-” you continue.

“Please?” he whispers, eyes widening under his glasses leaning in a little closer in attempts for you to look at him, your actions freeze at his words huffing in defeat, you turn to face him for a moment.

Only then he got a clear view of your face, your pretty eyes covered with a thin layer of glassy tears that were on the brink of falling he could almost see his reflection in them, your long thick eyelashes darkened with your tears “Fine” you nod, your eyes dropping down to avoid his stare, frankly it was making you a little nervous.

It was like your next movements where a calculated blur, grabbing your textbooks before slamming your locker shut to brush past Spencer without another word. Sniffles following as you made your way down the hall, silently cursing yourself out on the way to your next class.

You didn’t know why seeing him with someone else had worked you up so much, and you couldn’t wrap your head around it. You knew he didn’t like you, if you hadn’t been so desperate to hang out with him you wouldn’t have picked up the stupid letter, you brought this on yourself.

But Spencer’s heart did the thing again when he watched you walk down the hall.

You spent what felt like the whole of fifth period stealing glances at Spencer, which was absolutely not discrete since you always sat in front of him and you could only check the clock that hung on the back of the classroom wall so many times before it became suspicious, if it wasn’t already.

You absolutely could not recall a singular word your teacher had spoken about, your mind completely fogged with thoughts of Sadie’s stupid hair and stupid nails dragging across Spencer’s locks or the way she dragged his glasses off his face which made you glad you didn’t eat lunch.

So when Mrs. Abernathy claimed you’d be splitting off into partners, you wanted to grab Spencer’s arm and yank him away from Sadie but you knew you couldn’t. You had to settle for Ethan not a bad choice in hindsight he was the smartest hockey player so you knew he’d at least would’ve been paying attention unlike you.

But you weren’t the only one who’s mind was absolutely full with thoughts of another, Spencer’s head felt sore at how much he was thinking of you, his heart ached at the sight of you upset, and as much as he hated it he couldn’t control it.

“I’m excited for this weekend” the pretty red head giggled under her large plastic goggles, Spencer’s head turned at the sound of her voice, snapping him from his gaze on you, he watched as she twisted the gas valve attached to the bunsen burner.

“What?” Spencer mutters in response as she lifts her head to meet his, his eyes widen in realisation “oh!” He rushes, absolutely mortified he had forgotten “ice skating, of course! I’m so excited” he scrambles quickly as her face began to drop, it quickly picks up at his words before she continues to quickly strike a match.

His eyes wander from the pages of his poorly written notebook, to the silver work bench across from him. The work bench that you were at, your teary eyes replaced by being slightly scrunched in laughter at whatever the curly haired brunette boy had muttered in your ear. Spencer’s eyes furrowed at the sight.

What could he possibly be saying to make you laugh?

“They’re cute right?” Sadie chirps holding a clear glass beaker while she swirled the blue liquid with a stirring stick, snapped out of his gaze once again, his face painted with confusion, he turns to face Sadie for a moment without a word, she seems equally confused at his silence before placing the beaker down for a moment “Ethan and y/n?” she adds in hopes of him understanding.

“Are they dating?” He rushes quickly grabbing the beaker from the bench before swirling the liquid himself.

Sadie giggles a little before responding “No I don’t think so” going back to write a little in her note book “She doesn’t really date, doesn’t stop guys from trying” she goes on to say, focused on her neatly lined notes, failing to notice Spencer’s usually pale pink knuckles suddenly turning white with how hard he was gripping the glass beaker.

“Okay! So we just have to add- Spencer!” Sadie shrieks as the glass shatters in his hand spilling the liquid all over the both of them, shards of glass piercing into his skin. He’s shocked at her reaction at first, completely unknowing of the mess he had made all over the bench, and her cheerleading uniform. “I just steam pressed this” Sadie claims eyes glued onto her now, blue stained uniform.

“Mr. Reid” Mrs.Abernathy states only the tiniest bit of concern lacing her statement “Please go to the nurse you’re bleeding all over my bench” she bores again, Spencer’s state only earns a giggle from you, concerned of course, but his deer in headlights stance and absolute silence, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“And Ms. Y/L/N, since you think it’s so funny you can take him” your quiet laughing stops at her stern words.

“But-”

“Now” She adds with not an ounce of sympathy dripping from her words, your eyes snap from her to Spencer who stood picking pieces of glass from his hand, you physically cringed at the sight before a groan escapes your lips. His eyes meet yours for a moment, your eyes rolling seemed to be the only appropriate response before you nod your head towards the door ushering him to follow you.

The silence in the unoccupied hallways was deafening, only the sounds of your shoes squeaking filling the air, you could hear Spencer whimpering a tiny bit behind you, you swore it took your whole strength not to turn around and tell him to shut-up, but you knew whatever you were angry at wasn’t technically his fault.

Your shoes squeaked a little louder as you both took a sharp turn into the nurses office, almost immediately greeted with a high pitched “oh my gosh!” The nurse squeaked as she saw the state of Spencer holding his bloody glass punctured hand “sit down!” She adds patting the examination table beckoning for Spencer, he responds with a weak nod before complying.

You weren’t sure on whether you were meant to leave or stay with Spencer in this situation, of course a part of you wanted to stay with him, comfort him until he felt better. But another part of you wanted to leave him there, claiming that if Sadie cared enough she’d be here instead of you.

But you stayed.

“y/n can you wrap it up for me I just have to grab something from across the hall” the nurse rushed holding a plastic bag with shards of red stained class, she barely looked up for an answer from you before zipping the bag up and rushing for the door.

“But Kate-”

“Just do it” she calls out, her small frame already half way out the door before you could even protest, your eyes shift back to Spencer who sat slumped on the table while he meekly sent a smile in your direction.

Despite your resistance, you sighed a little before reaching towards the top shelf grabbing alcohol spray and bandages before moving to meet Spencer at the table “this is gonna hurt a little okay?” You mumble gently grabbing his skinny wrist, turning it so his injured hand faced you, you bit your lip in concentration as you lined up the alcohol to spray at his wounds.

He winced a little at the sting before nodding for you to continue, you couldn’t help but enjoy the small whimpers falling from his lips, you felt perverted for it, but you were sure anyone would agree. It also made you realise how big his hands were in comparison to yours, you wanted so badly to just be able to hold it, for it to touch you.

You looked up at his face for a moment, watching how he caught his bottom lip in his teeth, eyes focused on his hand in pain, that was enough to make you huff with a loss of breath.

Cleaning up his hand, you toss his bloody gauze into the bin quickly turning to face away from him to wash your hands “you call Nurse Abbott, Kate?” He mutters, frowning as he takes a look at the state of his hand.

You pause for a second, brows knitting at his question, you hadn’t even realised you had called her that it had become normal to you “yeah I don’t know I’m in here a lot” you mumble in response back turning around to grab a dressing “I get migraines sometimes so she lets me sit in here” you continue, lining up the dressing on the biggest cut on his hand.

You couldn’t help yourself but stare at the lines and creases in his hands while you tended to him, the way his veins popped when would accidentally clench at the stinging was enough for you to bite your lip in frustration.

“You still get those?” He adds finally looking up from his hand to you, his eyes zoning on your the way your pretty eyebrows furrowed in concentration, your long eyelashes and pretty pump lips, licking them every now and then.

“You remember” Mumbling you toss the dressing wrappers away not daring to meet Spencer’s eyes while doing so.

“Yeah they used to scare me” he laughs while your hand brushes over his, memories of times you had to lay in a quiet pitch black room ran through your mind, and the way you’d yell at him if he opened the door letting the light in. You always felt bad for yelling at him, you knew he probably just wanted to play Mario kart so you’d bake him cupcakes to make up for it.

“Are we still fake dating tonight?” He adds, leaning his head down a little for his eyes to meet yours. You cringe a little at his wording cause selfishly, you didn’t want it to be a fake date, you wanted to real date him and you wanted him to real date you.

“Spence” you mutter no louder than a whisper, you don’t meet his eyes, instead focused on finishing up his hand “your hand” you mention looking up at him for a split second to look back down at his hand, coloured white with the bandage wrapped around it.

“It’s okay” he rushed “It doesn’t hurt that bad” now you didn’t buy that for a second, you surprised he didn’t need stitches and he was a terrible liar “I can hold onto the railing.. please” you were strong, you could admit that but the pleading along with his big round eyes beaming up at you almost twinkling under the fluorescent lighting.

“Maybe” you breathe, surprised you didn’t immediately say yes the minute he started begging.

He seemed momentarily satisfied with your answer “done” you whisper smiling back up at him, only you realised he was already looking at you, not just looking at you, but looking into you. His eyes exploring the depths of yours, like he was desperate to see behind them. And honestly he was, he wanted to be in your brain at this very moment, wanted to know what you were thinking, how you were feeling but he couldn’t tell, only noting the quick rise and fall of your chest and your glistening bottom lip as you licked it, you were nervous.

His eyes moved from your eyes, along your jawline and all across your face, counting every beauty spot every freckle, you both scanned each others faces, searching for something you couldn’t even answer only the sounds of your breathes mixing in with each other filling the what felt like warm air.

Your eyes both meet each others for a second, brows furrowing in curiosity, your eyes faulting from his eyes to his lips, disparity fuelling in the pit of your stomach.

“Okay!” A voice booms from the corridor adjacent to the door “oh! y/n I didn’t think you’d wrap it so quickly” she adds looking up from her clipboard at the both of you.

You must’ve looked like a deer in headlights, both pulled from the depths of your gaze on each other, you’d never seen him look at you like that, and honestly you didn’t even know what it meant. You’d never seen him look at anyone like that.

“Sorry” you mumble a little sheepishly, dropping Spencer’s hand into his lap which you were unaware you were still holding, embarrassed that you had pretty much eye fucked him “I’ll go now” nodding at Kate before attempting to make your way to the doorway, but not without Spencer’s uninjured hand grabbing your wrist.

“Tonight?” He queried again tilting his head to the side like a puppy dog, his big brown eyes shining in your direction which absolutely did not help your case.

Your mind fights it for a little, there was no way he should be out ice skating with an injured hand, and you also didn’t really want to go after seeing the way him and Sadie were getting to know each other in the cafeteria. But despite all that, you selfishly just wanted to feel like you were the one on a date with him.

“Please” he whispers his lanky hand still gently gripping your wrist.

Yep that’ll do it

“Fine” you groan, defeat dripping from your words rolling your eyes in annoyance, false annoyance.

It was hard to act annoyed when the biggest grin grew on his pretty little face, you would’ve almost forgotten that his hand had pretty much been mauled by a glass beaker.

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[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 6

Hello! We are back with this lovely story.

Things are starting settle for Steve as he visits his kids and gets news from his cousin, Monty. He also learns he has allies in unexpected places.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~

It was still early enough in the day that Monty wouldn’t be at work so he figured he’d grab a bite to eat and then do some shopping. He might even stop by the Hendersons if he had time. He wanted to see the little pipsqueak again.

As much as Steve was loving the super rich and decadent food of the hotel all he wanted in that moment was a good chili burger from Benny’s.

When he got there the diner was mostly empty, the lunch rush having just ended, so he slid into his favorite booth and waited for the waitress to notice him. And of course because Alice was as sharp intelligence wise as she was sharp tongued, she was over at his table with a cup and pot of coffee.

“Steve Harrington,” she said with a wicked gleam her eye. “I thought you’d done and gone a runner.”

Steve raised his hand and tilted it back and forth. “Ehh...close enough I guess.”

Alice barked out a laugh, shaking her head as she handed him the menu. And he handed it right back.

“I would like a strawberry milk shake, Benny’s Big Chili Burger, and side order of cheese fries.” He grinned at her as she looked at him in shock. “Please?”

She jotted it all down, shaking her head again and then shoved the pad back in her apron. “That will be coming right up.” She turned on her heel and walked right back to the kitchen.

Steve added sugar and creamer to his coffee and took a sip. It wasn’t as good as the hotels, but it was warm and friendly and tasted a little like home.

Alice refilled his coffee twice before his food came out with a stack of napkins. As she placed his food in front of him, she whispered, “Are you safe?”

Steve looked up at her in awe. She looked over her shoulder at Benny who was watching them nervously. Suddenly his insides warmed fast than an entire pot of coffee ever could.

He nodded and gave Benny a thumbs up and hoped from an outsider’s point of view, he was giving the chef indication that he was happy with the food. The chef relaxed and so did Alice.

Steve happily, sloppily ate his meal in peace. He got a couple of side-eyes from some of the other patrons, but he steadfastly ignored them in favor of the delicious food. After he was done he took out a twenty and dropped it down on the table.

Alice deserved something extra for being so nice. He waved goodbye and got back into his car. He checked his watch and saw that he had plenty of time before The Hideout opened so he drove over to the Hendersons.

He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Claudia’s car out front. Because even if Dustin wasn’t home, she would be and be able to pass along the message he had visited. He got out of the car but before he even raised his hand to knock the door swung open and he suddenly had an armful of rowdy teenager.

“Steve!” Dustin cried, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend.

Steve let out a sigh and knot he didn’t know he was holding in his chest loosened and then vanished. Then there was a flurry of other bodies as he was hit with three more hugs. Then Max showed up at the door and pushed her way through the bodies of the four boys to cling to Steve’s waist.

Claudia came to the door and raised an eyebrow at him. “I think they’re happy to see you.”

He huffed out a laugh. He held them all as close as possible. Tears began to run down his face as he squeezed them for as long and as tightly as he could. Finally his arms began to hurt.

“I missed you guys so much,” he whispered into Dustin’s curly hair.

Claudia gently pried each of them off Steve and pushed them into the house with murmured assurances that Steve wasn’t going anywhere and that he would probably like to come inside now.

Finally it was just Max and Dustin, then just Max. When Claudia tried to dislodge her, she buried her head deeper into Steve’s chest.

“Don’t leave me like that ever again,” she whispered fiercely. “Or I will find you and kick your ass. Do you hear me?”

“I promise,” he said solemnly and meant it. Things weren’t all peaches and cream for the other kids, but at least they all had someone willing to care at least a little. Susan Hargrove tried, but her life was a series of bad decisions followed by worse consequences, mainly for Max.

Max finally let go of his waist, but she grabbed his hand, and led him into the house. Steve smiled after hearing from his friends that they wouldn’t take him, after Tommy had done a runner, his parents threw him away like an old soiled rag he had forgotten that he had people who loved him.

Alice and Benny at the diner, his kids.

Once he entered the living room, he was bombarded with questions. He couldn’t even hear what they were saying, it was so loud.

He put his fingers to his lips and whistled long and loud. “Hey, dumbasses! One at a time. Jeez, I’d ask who raised ya, but I know that and they didn’t raise you to behave this way.”

There was some grumbling but they all quieted down and Steve answered their questions the best he could without say who it was who had rescued him.

“You’re trying to tell us,” Mike scoffed, “that some rich money bags swooped in like a white knight and swept you off your feet?”

Yeah, okay, Steve conceded to himself, that did sound hard to believe. He pulled out the wallet. He had taken most of the money had it put in the hotel safe until he got back and talked to the front desk about his room safe, but there was still a lot in there. Minus the twenty to Alice, of course.

He opened it up and pulled out his new shiny, black card and tossed it on the coffee table. Mike picked it up and looked at it. He turned it around to see Steve’s name on the back but literally nothing else was on it.

He threw back on the table and sat back. “So you’ve a black card, so what.”

Steve burst out laughing. Laughing until he was doubled over with it. He threw the rest of the wallet on the table when he finally could breathe again. But Mike refused to pick it up, he just glared at him.

So Lucas picked it up and his eyebrows shot up. “Holy shit, Steve. Did you sell your kidney?”

Mike looked over and saw the wallet was brimming with cash. His head shot up at Steve in shock. “What does a black card mean?”

Steve smiled and crossed his arms over his chest, smug as anything. “Black means no limit.”

“No limit?” Dustin asked. “How can a card have no limit? Even Ma’s card has a limit.”

“It means I can buy an island nation on it and they wouldn’t even bat an eyelash.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t. It’s not my money, but I could.”

Max let go of his hand and took the wallet from Lucas. He looked up at her as she counted the money. “There’s enough in here to pay the rent on my mom’s trailer for six months.”

Steve nodded. “And that’s not even all of it. I left some back at where I’m staying.”

“Which is where?” Will asked. “Dustin won’t tell us.” He looked over at Dustin who stuck his tongue at him.

“I can’t tell you that,” Steve said shaking his head. “I want to, and I will. Just not yet. I need make sure my parents are out of town and don’t have people looking for me before I trust people with that knowledge.”

“So why tell Dustin then?” Mike huffed.

And there it was. It wasn’t that Mike didn’t believe him, it was that he was upset that Dustin was given privileged information.

“I told Mrs. Henderson and Dustin was there,” he defended. “Look. When I’m sure my dad won’t ruin your parents’ lives for you guys helping me, then you’ll know, same as him.” He rolled his eyes. “Plus it was more I gave Dustin a phone number and didn’t realize that they fucking announced who they were regardless of the number called.”

Will snapped his fingers. “A hotel. You’re staying in a hotel!”

Steve threw his head back and covered his face with his hands and groaned his frustration. He had forgotten he was dealing with literal geniuses.

“Oh!” Mike said. “I get it now. You thought they would only say the name of the hotel when you called the front desk but not your room. But you were wrong and that’s how Dustin found out.”

Steve pursed his lips and he nodded, trying not to scream.

“So it wasn’t that you think he’s special,” Max said, “you’re just stupid.”

“Maxine Catherine Maxwell!” Claudia shrieked from the doorway. “We do not call people stupid in this house!”

Max’s jaw dropped at being full named. Steve was even impressed. He didn’t even know that Max had a middle to use.

“Sorry, Steve,” she muttered putting the wallet back on the table and crossing her arms.

Claudia nodded to the wallet and the card. “You best put those away, love. We don’t want you to lose anything now that you’re safe.”

He did as he was told. He then stayed around and answered their questions the best he could. Then when it was time for them to go home for dinner, he offered to take any of them home, but they all declined. Even Max, which surprised him, but he figured she was still stung by being full named by Dustin’s mom.

So he gave her a big hug before she left so she knew he wasn’t mad at her. She hugged him back fiercely and then pushed him away with a weak, “Loser.”

Steve huffed a small laugh and let her go.

He grabbed a sandwich off Claudia and then dashed off. He made a stop at Melvand’s and grabbed his hair products. He used the card for that so that Eddie could get a laugh at that purchase.

Then he pulled up to The Hideout just as it was opening and sure enough, Monty was at the door.

Steve got out of his Bimmer and walked up to the door. It was a Tuesday so there wasn’t anyone lined up.

Monty breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s good to see you, kid, but I can’t let you in.”

Steve held up his hands. “And I’m not asking you to. I’m just here to make sure you didn’t get into trouble and maybe some news if you have it.”

Monty relaxed and threw his arm around Steve’s shoulders, walking off to the side so they could share a smoke and Monty could still keep an eye on the door.

They were about halfway through their cigarettes when Monty finally spoke up.

“You didn’t get me in trouble,” he said, blowing out smoke. “I just don’t want my boss to put two and two together and come up with you being the Eddie Munson pet. You’re dad has been breathing down the necks of the local police. Not to find you, oh no. To run you out of town with a fucking lynch mob.”

Steve winced, flicking the ash off his cigarette with his thumb nail. “I’m not surprised. That’s why I’m laying low. Plus the place has good security, they will deny I’ve ever existed and since they don’t have anything on me, they can’t come back with a warrant.”

“What about your ID?” Monty asked after chewing on his lip for a moment or two.

“It’s on my list of things to get rid of,” Steve assured him. “I just want to do it safely. Cutting it up and throwing it away will only make things annoying for the cops to put back together.”

Monty nodded. “As long as you’re being smart about this, that takes a huge weight off my shoulders.”

“Do you think anyone there that night would remember me?” Steve asked, nervously.

“Don’t know,” Monty said with a shrug. “You did stand out pretty good that night. But whether they recognized you as Clint Harrington’s son? I doubt it and my boss hates cops so ten to one if they come sniffing around that night’s security tapes are gonna do a runner.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to feel relieved. “That’s good to know.”

“How’s Aunt Sophie doing?” Steve asked, grinding his finished cigarette under his shoe. “I heard she had a cancer scare last month?”

Monty scoffed. “Is that what Auntie Maureen said?” He rolled his eyes. “Scare? That implies that she was making it up. Bitch. Stage four. They think they’ve caught in enough time, but only time will tell.”

Steve winced again. “Mom has always been jealous of Aunt Sophie. I’m sorry, man. I hope they get it taken care off.”

“Thanks.”

The conversation turned to various cousins and other relatives. Then by some miracle someone came up to the door and Monty had to go.

Steve watched him trot back to the door and apologize to the patron and he shook his head. He drove back to the hotel and worried about his car. He didn’t know if his dad would think to look here, but he needed a reliable way to get around.

He wanted to skip dinner because he was so tired but he knew he needed to eat. So he ordered room service and called Eddie. It went to voicemail like the thought it would, but he told him all about his day. Then he ate and got ready for bed. He slowly drifted off to gentle silence of the suite around him.

~

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Tag List: CLOSED

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10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

[khuzena]

This bitter life.

pairing: Blade x g/n!reader

Part 1, Part 2.

Summary: Life is not fair, that is the truth every being must accept. Yet, there’s a part in Blade’s mara-struck mind, that he cannot accept this type of ending, he will not allow it, but he has no right to deny fate itself.

In other words, you die and he’s miserable.

Cw. It’s very fluffy trust me, Reader is absolutely fucked, you die, unrequited requited love, not proofread, really slowburn, character development, terminally ill, ansgt only bcoz fluff is for the weak, life is unfair.

A/n: You already know what it means when I upload a fanfic. If you don’t, my only warning is, shit’s going down.

(wrote this bc bladie won the poll for my other fic of which character u guys want a fic for next 🥳)

For all of Blade’s life, life has always been and will always be truly and utterly miserable.

If he were asked to recount the many times he wished he just died, he would lose count. From a promising life with the high-cloud quintet, from being the renowned crafter of weapons, to being just Blade. His pain does not give him the liberty to dream of a future, he does not have the privilege to close his eyes and dream of his youth when he is only constantly plagued with the thousands of screams who scream his name.

For a man who does not have the right to love, the right to dream and wish for death, just this once, the Aeons were kind enough to give him you.

He met you in unforeseen circumstances, he was gravely injured after another fight with some soldiers on some planet. Blade knows that he won’t die now, but he feels like dying. His stomach slashed by a poison so advanced it eats him from inside out, but oh how kind of the gods to bless him you.

”Hey, stay awake!” It was the first time in his life he’s heard a desperate cry, not out of fear for your life, but for his.

You did not know him, neither did he know you but it was like second nature to protect him.

The destroyer of worlds, the monster from the Stellaron hunters, the exiled one, you only saw a dying man.

He felt a damp cloth pressing on his stomach, “Please hang on.” Just who were you to tell him what to do? You just had to be there at that exact moment. Through blurry eyes, he could not make out what your face looked like, not like he could ever remember.

Blade could remember your voice, it was loud yet soothing, then he felt bandages wrap around his torso as someone carried him. He lost consciousness that night.

His eyes flutter open, was he really that weak to fall under the influence of that poison?

“You’re awake.”

He groans and sits up, his spine hurts like hell. “Who the hell are you?”

”Hey buddy, no need for hostility, I’m the one who saved your life.” His eyes follow you when you roll your eyes at him, ignoring his shit and jotting down whatever on your clipboard.

He stays silent when you come closer to him, your face getting a little too close than his liking, “Can you say ahh?”

Blade hesitates but he obliges, for the first time in his life, to a stranger, something in him tells him to trust you. “Ahh…”

You turn on your penlight and point it at his throat before sliding it back into your pockets, “Good, good” Blade doesn’t know what you’re doing when you stare in his eyes for 2 minutes, must be you inspecting something.

”You’re all fine, I’m surprised that you heal fast. Anyone who takes in such poison and exceeds 4 doses would die in an instant.” He thinks you’re weird.

…

In just 3 days, Blade was out of the hospital, Kafka tracked down where he was and was relieved when she found out Blade was alright.

“You’re really reckless, Bladie.”

Blade only scoffs hearing her words, it may be the truth but who cares? Certainly not him.

Just as the two were leaving the hospital for good, you followed him.

”You…” He saw you panting and gripping your knees from the exhaustion of chasing him down, he left without even informing the nurses.

He doesn’t know why you followed him, “Can I atleast have your name?”

Kafka blinks in surprise before turning away, as if she wasn’t witnessing whatever bullshit was going down.

”Excuse me?”

”Your name.”

”Why do I have to tell you?”

”I saved your life for fucks sake!”

Blade rolls his eyes, narrowing his eyes at you but he just gives up, “Fine, Blade.”

”What?”

”Do I have to repeat myself?”

He’s really mean, but he doesn’t scare you, which surprises him. You don't flinch at his words, but whatever. He thinks that he won’t have to see you again. (You almost crack up a laugh, who the fuck name's their child Blade?)

You don’t push him any further and let him leave, you want to learn more about him.

So for the following days, you ask people if they knew who that ‘Blade’ was, where did he work at, what he truly was because which idiot would end up wounded in a ditch at a place that’s practically considered a warzone in your planet. Not only that, but you were also intrigued and curious about his ability to heal fast and resist the poison.

You don’t find any information regarding that strange man, but one thing’s for sure, he’s dangerous.

Like clockwork, Blade comes again to the planet “Clove-V” to exterminate some pests because some idiot decided to mess with the Stellearon hunters. Gut a soldier, gain information, leave– is what he’s supposed to do.

Blade stares at the bloodied sword of his, “This goddamn poison again.”

He feels weak, clutching his stomach and he needs to leave before anyone catches up on him again. So he leaves the building only to drop unconscious.

Again, he is back to that familiar hospital room where he was just a few weeks ago.

”You’re back.” You scrunch your nose again, the squeaky writing on the clipboard hurting his ears.

He’s too tired to say something snarky, but he sighs in annoyance.

”You look worse than last time,” his gaze never leaves you when you come closer to inspect his throat and eyes like last time, “How do you keep getting in situations like these?”

He stays quiet, but you keep persisting with him to give you an answer.

Was he an assassin? A murderer?! One of the IPC slaves– no, no, he looks different from them, a little too proper (but bloodied), maybe from the Xianzhou luofu? So when you heal his wounds, you can’t help but ask, “Are you a murderer?”

Must you really force an answer out of him?

”Do I not look like one?” Were you such a fool to ask such an obvious answer?

You sat back down on the comfort of the cushion chair, “I didn’t want to assume”

”Now you know.”

“Yeah.”

He’s curious, when you find out that he’s a murderer, you’re not afraid, you do not run away or distance yourself, “Why do you kill people?”

He stays silent again, you don’t know the specifics, but you know the answer.

“I’ll get going now,” clearing your throat, “Just use the call button if you need help, one of the nurses will attend to you.”

And again, for 2 days, he is out of the hospital.

“You really keep ending up in that hospital, don’t you?” Kafka laughs, throwing away the Blade’s admission.

As they left, he could see you staring at him from your office. It was embarrassing enough that he caught you watching him leave so intently, Blade saw the curtains immediately close.

Again and again, he keeps getting wound up in that same hospital, might as well be stuck there forever.

”I’m no longer surprised you’re here again Blade.” It’s weird, when his name slips out from your lips, it sounds less scary (people often associate his name with fear and murder, but you call him like he’s any other man)

8 visits to your clinic, you might as well be his personal doctor.

“I know you’re a murderer but do you constantly have to be injured every month? I’m starting to think you’re getting injured just to see me.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” He scoffs.

”I was merely jesting.”

He cocks his head to the side, he sees you more often than he meets with Sam. You turn on your penlight again, unlike his first visit, he obliges without putting up a fight.

“Nothing unusual, you’re good to go.” You speak in between coughs, which surprises Blade. Lately, you were sicker than usual, pale and run-down.

”Are you okay?”

”Excuse me?”

”Nevermind.”

He should mind his own business, this is strictly a patient and doctor relationship. But he can’t help but wonder, if you looked that sick, shouldn’t you be on leave? You leave his hospital room without a word, he’s still curious.

He left, but this time, he didn’t see you looking out from your office window to watch where he was going.

Months pass by, by now he would’ve forgotten about you. But in the back of his head, he’s still wondering how are you? It isn’t for him to inquire about your personal life. He is still tempted to know more about you, so, he ends up wounded on that planet again (much to silverwolf’s dismay, he was supposed to be on a different mission)

He wakes up again in that hospital room, your coughs were loud enough to wake him up, “You keep coming back, I should just give you medicine so you don’t have to always end up here”

In truth, he just wanted to see you. It was unlike him to think about someone this much but he can’t help but be curious (worried, but he would never admit that.)

He felt the back of your palm press on his forehead, good thing he didn’t have a fever, “Your temperature’s okay.” He is worried, you speak in between coughs he could barely register your words. For a moment when you touched his skin, he felt his mara quelled, even for just a mere second.

“I want to ask, who are you really?” He’s taken by surprise by your question, something he expected but not one he expected now.

”I’m a stellaron hunter.” Oh.

A stellaron hunter, huh? “Why did you become one?”

He asks himself, why did he become one? Other than for when that day comes, he will be free, he will die. He can’t form a full answer, “I don’t know.” It’s better to give an answer, to lie, rather than be someone who cannot answer such a simple question.

“I see.” But you see through him, but you’re not close enough to him to question him about who he truly is. So you’ll know him through medicine, you’ll heal him to get to know who he is if he cannot give you a clear answer.

You gave him your name, because after 9 visits, he should know your name already. “What?”

”My name.”

He nods along, he’ll make sure to not forget it. You were sure he’s okay now, his vitals are back to normal, but before you leave, he calls out your name.

“You…” There was a look of confusion on your face, “Nevermind” He wanted to ask about your health, why were you still working? By seeing your current health, you’re close to death at this point. But he keeps his concerns to himself; after all, what does he know of you other than a doctor?

But even months pass by, he still wants to understand you. You do not look at him with contempt unlike his victims, and even if he had visited 12 times now, you did not seem annoyed; maybe even thrilled with the company.

He does not care for hobbies or games, he’s not like silverwolf whose life revolves around games and other things, he’s not like kafka who takes pleasure in playing with her food (her victims), he’s definitely not gentle and kind like Firefly.

So Blade does not understand why you’re fond of things like these, a monopoly board? Really? It’s stupid, very. But it’s the only way you two can understand each other, even if it means wasting time like this.

You rolled a 6 and landed on a community chest, “God damn it.”

He squints his eye when you got a card that said ‘Go to jail’, what the fuck was this game even about? “I don’t get this game”

He really doesn’t, but he rolls another and lands on some unclaimed property and buys it, “No shit, but you’re a lucky bastard.”

“I don’t get why we’re playing this stupid game, even checkers seem more appealing.” Finally getting out of jail, you rolled a 5 and landed on his property, going bankrupt. “You know what? Fuck this game.”

He doesn’t even understand how he won, he’d much prefer if you two read in silence or something. “That was a stupid game”

“You’re stupid.”

”Excuse me?”

Then you two go at it and fight again, but it was fun. The most fun he’s had in years (as if he ever knew what fun truly is)

But life is not kind, time is limited and you cannot trade gems or blood for 5 more minutes. He’s known that rule all his life, to never get attached ever again because he’ll be miserable, he’ll lose himself the way he lost who he truly was when he was still Yingxing. Yet, humans will always be humans; mortals, immortals, they are the same. And he is no exception.

After his 23rd visit for the past 2 years– going 3, he remembers small details about you. You studied at this university for a few extra years because you kept getting a failing grade, you like roping him up in stupid games (you tried to make him play twister once, it was you who got a twisted ankle), you like reading and everything else.

For all his cursed, miserable life, he slowly found reason, a part of him feels human again.

“You don’t look good.”

A stifled cough escaped you, “You think?”

You were on sick leave, he found out where you lived after asking forcing one of the nurses where you lived. Blade found you on the couch, sprawled with only a thin blanket covering you. He doesn’t care for anyone, just this once, though, just this once.

”Have you eaten yet?” It makes you laugh at how caring he is, the most unexpected side of him, after all.

You shook your head, “No.”

A cough seized you so suddenly, Blade’s worries did not go away. He doesn’t know how to cook, much less how to take care of a person.

”You have a fever,” he hands you a glass of water, but it was not enough to ease your pain.

You wish to close your eyes, but even the small contracting of your muscles ache, when you drink, it hurts, when you move, it hurts. It hurts to live at this point but you endure, “Why did you come?”

“I had to.”

”Why exactly?”

”Just shut up and let me take care of you.”

You could only faintly chuckle at his words when he gets a warm cloth to put it on your forehead, “What else do I do?”

Nighttime came but he has not left yet, he can’t leave just yet, “Tell me.”

There was no use, whatever he did would not help you get through with this illness of yours. “Just tell me.” You did not have the energy to argue or talk, but he did not get the hint so he continued to pester you for an answer.

”Can you please stop talking? I need to sleep.”

”Fine.”

Tomorrow came, only Blade was right beside you, staring intently at you; a part of him afraid you won’t wake up again.

”You’re awake.” Blade always had that nonchalant expression, but his eyes were heavy with worry. Were you dreaming or was he really right beside you and worried for your well being? A part of you wished you still were, having company is the best when you’re ill.

You coughed softly, “Yes.”

Why didn’t he leave? Was he worried? You must be insane to think that way, he is just your old patient who just so happened to always end up in the hospital under your care.

The man in front of you sat beside you and stared at you for a while, not knowing what to do, “What do I do next?”

Ah. He rarely shows emotion on his face but his pupils dilate for a split second, you can’t die but you were so close to dying, he’s no doctor, he has no expertise in taking care of anyone but for just this moment he wished he did.

“Just keep me company.” He nods.

Note: cries cries cries bc the full fic is so long i have to make it into 2 parts :((( im abt to post part 2 pls pls wait 😔😔😔

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (7)

ー☆ Chapter 7: Figure It Out

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cussing ー☆ Word count: 5.7k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hey, lovelies! I'm back with another chapter, sorry for the longer wait, but I had to finish a veeery lengthy oneshot (you can check it out if you want, it's another Mingi one and it's part of my pirate series). I really liked this chapter, it isn't very charged with action, but I think we can finally see the progress in their relationship (or maybe it's just me haha). You know the jist, but please listen to this chapter's song Figure It Out before or while reading the chapter! Let me know your thoughts, and I hope you enjoy and have a nice rest of the week! <3

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @sharksandminhos

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

『Nothing here to see

Just a kid like me

Trying to cut some teeth

Trying to figure it out』

            Mingi’s studio wasn’t so big compared to how it appeared from the outside. But it felt cozy and rather homey with a few polaroid photos stamped up on the wall above a small dark green couch, which had a dozen of colored pillows, and a yellow blanket thrown haphazardly on it. I slipped the straps of my backpack off my shoulders and placed it by the couch, clearing my throat, feeling a bit awkward as I disregarded my jacket, and placed it next to Mingi’s on the sofa. There was a small window, but blinds were covering it, and the lights were rather dim as I turned to face Mingi. He was grinning, hands gripped together in front of himself, and I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, what do you think?” He asked as he gestured around, and I chuckled, letting my eyes roam around for a second time. His desk was long and seemed rather organized, a few notebooks opened and pens littered around it. His whole setup took up a lot of space, but you still had enough to be able to write comfortably. He had yellow little notes scattered all around his wall in front of his desk, and for some reason I found that adorable. Mingi tended to be forgetful, it wasn’t a surprise that he’d have to jot down his thoughts quickly while working on his songs.

“It’s cool,” I muttered with a shrug, pushing my hands in the pockets of my jeans, “I’ve never been inside a studio before.”

“Glad to be your first.” My eyes narrowed at Mingi’s words, and judging based on the cheeky smile on his face, he knew what he was doing. I huffed and rolled my eyes, feeling a little weird being cooped up in a small space, alone with Mingi. We’ve never really been on our own before, despite texting and talking at university as well, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit awkward still. It’s like the feeling never truly went away, but maybe it was just me as Mingi seemed rather relaxed and nonchalant. I cleared my throat when Mingi didn’t say anything else, suddenly a question pressing on my tongue.

“Uh, have you had lunch today?” I asked as I shuffled on my two feet, Mingi’s eyebrows furrowing in an almost adorable manner. And as if on cue, his stomach growled loudly, making me chuckle as I shook my head at him, “I’ll take that as a no, then.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get the chance.” He sighed, pouting, “I kinda overlooked the date of the deadline and now I really can’t afford wasting any more time.”

“Then why would you drive me home? Isn’t that wasting your time?” I asked as I went to retrieve my bag. I had bought some butter croissants this morning that I never got to eat as I had a smaller stomachache, to which the cure was a good, warm, soup. If I ate these croissants, it would’ve only upset my stomach more.

“It’s raining.” As if that was reasoning enough, but I stayed silent as I unzipped my backpack and dug into it, looking for the plastic bag, “And to be fair, I kind of need a break. I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind.”

“I thought you didn’t have a mind.” I teased with a pointed look, making Mingi roll his eyes as I finally found the plastic bag and grabbed it out of my backpack before I lowered it back onto the floor, “Here, eat these.”

Mingi’s eyes widened in surprise and he seemed reluctant for a second, “Just take it, I won’t eat them and I’d rather you eat it then I throw it away later.”

“Aw,” Mingi cooed as he took a few steps to come closer, batting his eyelashes at me in a cringe worthy manner, “Did you buy this specifically for me?”

“I bought them for myself, did you not hear what I said?” I deadpanned, and whiskey my hand away when Mingi went to grab the plastic bag. He quirked an eyebrow and I gave him a long stare, slightly glaring, “I wouldn’t waste my little money on you, you’re not special.”

“In that case, I don’t want it.” Mingi’s face slipped into a neutral mask, and I gulped, suddenly regretting my words. Perhaps I was being too harsh with him when he was always rather nice to me. I cleared my throat and grabbed his hand, ignoring the warmness of it, and pressed the plastic bag into his palm.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” I muttered and quickly released Mingi’s hand, looking off to the side as Mingi tried to fight off the smile on his face, looking rather pleased with himself.

“You’ve been making progress.” He grinned, as he opened the plastic bag and grabbed a butter croissant out of it. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched him take a big bite, smiling in bliss as he quickly chewed the food in his mouth, basically inhaling the pastry in mere seconds, making me rather amused.

“What are you talking about?”

“You recognize when you make a mistake, and you apologize for it.” Mingi said through a mouth full of croissant, and I grimaced at his antics. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and balled up the plastic bag, aiming for the trash can which was next to the door, just a few feet away from it. He made a show of throwing it, only for it to land on the floor merely two steps away from us. I snorted in amusement as Mingi cleared his throat, flashing me a small embarrassed smile, “Anyways, I want to show you something.”

“Won’t you pick it up?” I raised an eyebrow as Mingi ignored my question and grabbed my right wrist, dragging me towards his desk, “And don’t get too used to my apologies. I know you’re only pretending to be mad at me, so I’ll stop being apologetic.”

“I’m not pretending,” Mingi huffed, throwing a quick glance at me as we reached his desk, and he reached for a chair pushed off to the side, “You have a special way with your words and you always manage to hurt my feelings somehow.”

“You’re just too sensitive.” I quickly snapped, defensive for no reason. Or maybe not for no reason, but because I knew he was right. I couldn’t help myself. I might’ve started growing more accustomed to having Mingi in my life, in a very friendship sort of way, but I still couldn’t help but have my doubts about him. I could never know. He was Yunho’s best friend after all, and whoever associated themselves with that man, wasn’t the best kind. And I know judging Mingi based on who he’s friends with is rather wrong, but it only felt right as of now. We didn’t know each other too well yet.

“I’ve been told so before,” Mingi gently pushed me in the chair he had fetched for me, pulling his own chair behind himself to take his seat, “Yunho always says despite my tough exterior I have a rather soft heart, easily harmed. Hence why I cried a lot as a child—”

“You were a crybaby?” I asked with a chuckle, watching Mingi amused as he huffed, leaning back in his chair, looking as if he regretted admitting that.

“Of course you’d make fun of me for that,” He rolled his eyes before he leaned forward, pulling his chair closer to the desk, grabbing his mouse, “But yes, I still cry.”

“A lot?” I teased, biting my lower lip when Mingi gave me a pointed stare.

“Says the one who looked like a kicked puppy abandoned by the curb when I found you at the restaurant.” Mingi muttered under his breath as he turned his computer on, clicking through various folders rather quickly. I scoffed and crossed my arms in front of my chest, narrowing my eyes at him.

“You didn’t find me there, we just happened to be at the same place.” I corrected him, “Much to my dismay.”

“Yeah, right,” Mingi scoffed, pulling up a file of various recordings on his computer screen, “if I remember correctly, you were rather grateful that I drove you home that night.”

“You kept insisting.” I pressed, giving Mingi a look when he turned his head to look at me.

“You must always have the last word, don’t you?” He raised an eyebrow, not looking too impressed, “Even through texts.”

『Nothing better to do

When I'm stuck on you

And still I'm in here

Trying to figure it out』

I just shrugged and remained silent, not admitting to his correct observation. Mingi just shook his head with a quiet tsk and then went and unplugged his headphones from the computer. He licked his lips and grabbed his glasses off the desk, pressing them up on his long nose, ruffling his black fluffy hair. He seemed to be a bit nervous as he swiveled his chair around to face me, interlacing his fingers in front of himself as he rested his arms on the armrests of the chair.

“So, uh, this isn’t finished yet,” Mingi spoke up, chuckling almost awkwardly, “it’s just a sample, still raw and shit. I started working on the track this week, but I’ve been writing the lyrics for a few weeks now. Found some inspiration for it quite recently, actually.”

“Why’s that?” I found myself asking curiously, glancing at the screen of his computer before looking back at him.

“Well, just…reasons.” Mingi was evasive as he averted his eyes, but I didn’t press the matter as he clearly looked like he didn’t want to talk about it. So, I just hummed and nodded my head in understanding, waiting patiently for him to speak up again.

“Anyways,” He cleared his throat and clapped his hands, turning back to face his computer, “you’ll be the first one to hear it. And don’t laugh, like I said, it’s far from being perfect.”

“I would never laugh, Mingi.” I said seriously as my eyebrows furrowed, making Mingi glance back at me. He studied my face for a second before he nodded once, ruffling his bangs quickly as he pressed start on the player. The song started out as a steady beat accompanied by the guitar playing softly, the melody rather comforting. It was a delicate way of easing you into the song, and as it flew naturally, Mingi’s voice suddenly made an appearance, his rasp not as noticeable as normally as his vocals were soft, completely in tune with the music and the beat.

“My head is haunting me, and my heart feels like a ghost/I need to feel something 'cause I'm still so far from home/Cross your heart and hope to die/Promise me you'll never leave my side.” I gulped as I leaned back in the chair, eyes fixated on the big screen of Mingi’s computer, soaking in the words, trying to be less aware of Mingi sitting next to me, trying to ignore my unsteady heartbeat.

“Show me what I can't see when the spark in my eyes is gone/You got me on my knees, I'm your one-man cult.” Mingi’s leg was bouncing up and down rapidly, his lower lip between his teeth as his eyes were fixed onto the screen of his computer, something suddenly dropping in the pit of my stomach as I took a glance at him from the corner of my eyes, “Cross my heart and hope to die/Promise you I'll never leave your side.”

I gulped as my fingers wrung together, lightly bobbing my head to the steady rhythm of the song, enjoying the instrumental as I drunk in Mingi’s words, his deep voice warm and pleasant to listen to, feeling goosebumps erupt on my arms, underneath my long sleeves.

“'Cause I'm telling you, you're all I need/I promise you, you're all I see.” I took a peek in Mingi’s direction as was slightly startled to find him watching me, his eyes trained on me intently. His eyebrows were very lightly furrowed as his right hand was fisted, and he sniffed loudly, holding eye contact as the next words flew smoothly against the melody, my cheeks suddenly flushed for no reason, “'Cause I'm telling you, you're all I need/I'll never leave.”

The melody was light, instrumental smooth as Mingi’s voice almost faded with the next words, that is until the drums kicked up and the beat became heavier, Mingi’s strong voice easily accompanying the instruments, rasp harsh as Mingi’s voice audibly shook with emotions poured into the song, “So, you can drag me through hell/If it meant I could hold your hand/I will follow you, 'cause I'm under your spell/And you can throw me to the flames/I will follow you, I will follow you.”

And just as I blinked, the music stopped as Mingi hit the pause button, clearing his throat loudly as he rubbed at his chin, averting his eyes as I noticed a deep flush on his face. He swiveled his chair a little towards the desk, angling his body away from mine, “Uh, like I said, it’s still raw, so it’s not that good. I recorded the first two verses like yesterday, and was playing around with the chorus before I noticed you…yeah.”

I couldn’t help but smile softly as I looked at his profile, meanwhile Mingi quickly closed the folders he had open, “Mingi, it’s…like, really good. I have no idea what standards music majors and your professors have, but to my painter ears this is…a masterpiece or something.”

Mingi froze for a second, eyes wide when he faced me again, “Really? You think so?”

“Of course!” I exclaimed with a huff, growing embarrassed as Mingi continued to look at me with a surprised expression on his face. Perhaps I really should stop teasing and playfully insulting him so much, what if he doesn’t believe my compliments when I’m being genuine?

“I’m glad.” Mingi suddenly muttered, a soft smile settling on his lips before he chuckled, turning his head away, “I’ve have to finish the chorus and then we can go, is that good with you?”

“Sure,” I smiled, grabbing my phone from my pocket as Mingi went and plucked the headphones back into the computer, throwing it around his neck, “Take your time.”

『Getting hard to sleep

Blood is in my dreams

Love is killing me

Trying to figure it out』

He hummed and then put on the headphones, clicking away on his computer as the music file opened again, and I could hear the soft melody quietly slither through the headphones. I found myself looking at Mingi a second too long before I snapped out of it, clearing my throat as I unlocked my phone and looked down at it, checking for any unread messages. As expected, there was nothing from my mother as she preferred calling even for the smallest things. From Seulgi there was also nothing as she was on a date with Wooyoung, probably too preoccupied by each other to pay attention to anything else around them. I could only hope they would finally make things official, their feelings way too obvious to be beating around the bush for any longer. They were rather cute, but also extremely annoying. I’d rather prefer Seulgi gush to me about Wooyoung as her boyfriend, than the guy she just has a massive crush on, repeating the same things over and over again, completely ignoring the advice I give her.

As there was nobody else I would be texting, other than Mingi, I clicked out of the app and absentmindedly opened Instagram, scrolling through my feed, sighing quietly. There was a light tapping sound coming from Mingi’s direction, and I looked up to see him hitting his pen against the table rhythmically, following the beat of the song, probably. There were a few new words jotted down in his notebook, the page looking like a mess of jumble to me, but probably to Mingi it was quite organized, and clear what he had scribbled down there. I looked back down at my phone, smiling as cute puppy videos popped up in my recommended, watching the video until the end before I left a like on it, scrolling past it. There were a few other posts from my acquittances from my uni classes, and I liked them all as I sighed, realizing a little get-away sounded rather nice now that I saw pictures of people traveling. I scrolled some more down, and froze for a second as Yunho’s familiar username popped up, three pictures posted one after another. There was one of two coffee cups placed on a small round table, with the view over the city in the background. The second picture was of the sunset, the sky purple and pink. And then the third one was of two intertwined hands, and I didn’t fail to notice the tag on the picture. It was probably that new girl, but I found myself not wanting to actually check, to actually confirm that it was her. I sighed, eyes lingering on the last photo, yet quickly realized, rather startled, that I didn’t feel as bitter about as I once used to. It didn’t make me react as badly like the first time I had seen his story with his new girlfriend, and my eyebrows furrowed as I ruminated on the feeling, taking my lower lip between my teeth. Yes, I still felt rather bitter about it, but it left me rather…cold? Unimpressed, maybe? Unphased, even? My eyebrows furrowed further more at the sudden confusion of my feelings, and I went to scroll again, when a username down at the comments caught my eyes.

minkiprncess: u never invite me out on coffee dates, im jealous

YuYu🌻: i thought u liked picnic dates more?

I quickly shut the app off and cleared my throat, finding my eyes glued to Mingi instantly. Seeing him talk like that to Yunho…was strange, but certainly not unexpected. They’ve been best friends since kindergarten. Their bond ran deep, and the way Yunho would often gush about Mingi, it only seemed right to see those words typed out by Mingi. But I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around their friendship, and how it worked, since Mingi seemed to be…quite genuine as days went by. I hated to admit it, but he really wasn’t as bad as I had thought at first. Perhaps I was prejudiced, but it felt too soon to let my guard down, to truly open up and let him in like I once had done with Yunho. That was a mistake, and I was scared of committing the same mistake twice. With my eyes on Mingi, and seeing as he was rather occupied at the moment, I allowed myself the luxury to truly look at him, to take him in as he was. His profile was pretty as his black hair fell over his forehead in soft waves, definitely not styled, as I had seen Mingi run his fingers through it numerous times since I had arrived. His brow bone was rather defined and it came more forward, his brows thick and dark, seemingly a perfect fit for his features. His nose was tall and long, the bridge straight and almost perfect, probably leaving many jealous for not having a nose like his. His glasses framed his face, and they were once again slipping down his nose, but Mingi made no sign of wanting to fix that, of pushing them up as you were supposed to wear them. The distance between his upper lip and nose wasn’t too big, even from the side, his cherry red lips were plump and had a rather pretty shape, forcing me to swiftly try and look down at my own lips, wondering why a guy had better and prettier lips than a woman. I followed the sharp line of his jaw, chin not too forward, perfectly aligned with his nose, his well-defined cheekbones visible even from the side. My eyes lingered on the small mole on his jaw, way too familiar with its placement already as I had drawn it numerous times in my portraits of Mingi. I gulped and subconsciously licked my lips as my eyes ventured further, slipping down his exposed neck, his tan skin soft looking in the dim lights, his characteristic silver necklaces hanging around the base of his neck. Mingi sighed loudly and I looked at his face alarmed, thinking that I had been caught, but his eyebrows were furrowed as he took the pen he held in his hand between his white teeth, biting down on it as he looked frustrated. I had noticed before already, but his front teeth were slightly more ahead, protruding a little, and I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, finding this trait rather…adorable. Not wanting to linger too much on that thoughts, my eyes found themselves fixated on Mingi’s fingers, and I frowned upon just realizing something.

『I'll let it go 'cause I won't see you later

And we're not allowed to talk it out

I said I'd go, put myself on show

But I'm still trying to figure it out』

His nails were painted black, with rather abstract looking designs, and as I squinted, absentmindedly leaning forward in my chair to catch a better glimpse at his middle finger, I could read the words, fix on, painted on it. My eyebrows furrowed as it made me wonder whatever that meant, and I decided to ask Mingi about it later if given the chance. I allowed my eyes to linger on his nails longer, gulping as I noticed almost each long finger of his was decorated by a ring. I wasn’t foreign to his rings, I have noticed that Mingi loved wearing rings, and the one on his middle finger, with the big red gemstone seemed to always catch my attention. I hummed silently, taking my sweet time to closely analyze each one of his rings, noting which were new, to me, as I haven’t seen them on him before, and which were the ones he wore almost daily. He seemed to have two silver ones that he never failed to leave at home, both littered with small stones, prettily shining under the sunlight each time. Mingi’s fingers flexed for a second, tightening around the pen he was holding, and I watched as he started tapping the table, a low humming sound coming from his lips. I blinked as I realized what I had been doing, memorizing every bend of his fingers, every line and any scar decorating it, storing their shape and length deep in my mind for the time when I would have to recall it in order to draw his hands. In the process of all this, I couldn’t help but also notice that his hands seemed rather big, they would probably engulf mine nicely. The thought made me lightly flush as I remembered us holding hands in his car after we shared some personal stuff, and I shook my head lightly, trying to get rid of the memory. There was a light shuffle as Mingi cleared his throat, making me very slowly drag my eyes up, until they fell on his face. More particularly on his sharp and small eyes, which were on me, his eyebrows raised curiously as a smug smile seemed to be plastered on his lips. Fuck. I would’ve face palmed myself if it wasn’t for Mingi watching me, so, instead, I tried to flash him my best poker face while I totally, and absolutely, flushed red in embarrassment.

“Were you…” Mingi pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes playfully, “checking me out?”

“Like hell I was.” I snapped with a loud huff, definitely way too fast.

“Oh, you weren’t?” Mingi feigned confusion, “But—damn, then I must be mistaken. You certainly weren’t like…totally ogling my face and then salivating after my hands, right?”

As if to prove a point, he wriggled his fingers, making me clench my jaw as I forced a pathetic excuse of a laugh out of myself, giving him an unimpressed expression, “I wasn’t checking you out nor any of those things you just said—”

“Are you like, really sure?” Mingi huffed, tapping his lips in an annoying manner, “Because now you’re making me feel crazy—”

“Oh my God,” I exclaimed exasperated, eyes widening as I huffed at Mingi, “fine, I was looking at your hands, but before it gets to your head, bro, I just simply think guys painting their nails is hot, okay?”

There was a long pause, Mingi’s eyes boring into mine as a smirk made its way on his lips, looking all smug and pleased with himself, “So…”

I gulped nervously as he suddenly pushed his chair slightly back, and started leaning in towards me, the look taunting on his face, “You think I’m hot?”

“Not you.” I snapped, glaring at him, “That’s not what I said—”

“But you indirectly admitted that I’m hot—”

“No, Mingi. I didn’t admit anything, God, this is why I don’t talk to you.” I huffed and pushed my chair back, feeling uncomfortable as he was siting so close to me, making me gulp nervously. I quickly stood from my chair and went to walk to get my backpack, but Mingi quickly reached out and grabbed my wrist.

“Where are you going?” He asked, smugness and smirk gone from his face. I rolled my eyes at him, but didn’t pull my wrist out of his grip.

“Home, obviously.” I huffed, and Mingi very gently pushed me back towards the chair, making me sit in it.

“Let me finish this up, and we’re leaving.” He quickly turned and went back to clicking away on his computer, pursing his lips as with his left hand he closed his notebook, throwing the pen absentmindedly on his desk. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, but didn’t say anything else, waiting for him to do whatever he needed to do before we would finally leave. Some fresh air would certainly serve well for a wakeup call.

            The light drizzle had turned into rain after we’ve reached Mingi’s car and waited for the engine to warm up a bit. Mingi wasn’t as embarrassed about it as last time, and I found myself feeling the need to reassure him that I didn’t give a shit whether his car was a fucking rocket or a simple carriage, as long as it was safe to drive and shielded us from the rain. Perhaps it was one of the very few times when I heard Mingi’s rich laughter, his head thrown back against the headrest and mouth wide open as he repeatedly hit the wheel, prompting me to match his laughter until my stomach hurt and I had to ask him to stop, unable to breathe anymore as tears sprung into my eyes. The radio was playing softly in the background, neither of us actually paying attention to it as Mingi had asked about my art class, inquiring about the painting I was currently working on. I briefed him about it as we had taken off, the rain making it rather hard to see well, but Mingi was a careful driver and he didn’t speed at all, being extra careful as the wipers of the car were placed on the fastest setup, the rain hitting the car loudly, making us raise our voices in order to be able to hear each other well.

“I assume you know Wooyoung and Seulgi are on a date.” Mingi spoke up as we had stopped at a red light, people running as they crossed the road, umbrellas doing almost nothing to shield them from the harsh rain anymore.

“Yeah, I hope they chose to go somewhere indoors, this rain is merciless.” Mingi chuckled, but nodded his head in agreement, leaning his head against the headrest. The cars in the lane to our left took off, their traffic light having turned green.

“Wooyoung mentioned about them going to the cinema, or at least that’s what he had in mind two days ago.” Mingi explained, shifting into first gear as the light turned green for us.

“Seulgi said something about a new place opening up where you could paint pottery while enjoying their delicacies.” I said in thought, wondering which one they have chosen.

“We should go there sometime,” Mingi took a right turn, mindful of the pedestrians and the huge puddles on the side of the road, “just the two of us.”

I hummed, thinking about it for a second before I looked at Mingi, “Sure.”

“Sure? Did you just say sure?” Mingi’s voice slightly raised and I chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, I said sure.” I repeated, Mingi’s mouth falling open.

“Did you just agree to going out with me?!” Mingi almost exclaimed, making me snort as I looked away, focusing on the road ahead.

“You didn’t ask me out.” I corrected.

“But I still could.” Mingi quickly said, making me shake my head with a small smile.

“Anyways, I hope Wooyoung makes his move soon.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead tiredly, “I’ve had enough of listening to Seulgi whine about how much she’s into him, but is confused of what Wooyoung wants.”

Mingi chuckled as he took a left turn, driving off the main road, barely three blocks away from my neighborhood, “Good to know I was right.”

I looked at him again curiously, and he quickly explained himself, “I’ve been telling Wooyoung she was into him, but he never believed me. He did say he’d ask her out today, but knowing Wooyoung…he might chicken out, again.”

I chuckled, amused by these two idiots, “Well, knowing Seulgi, she won’t chicken out. She also planned on asking Wooyoung out today.”

Mingi laughed, turning left, slowing down as he drove down my street, looking for my house closely. I smiled subconsciously and undid my seatbelt, planning to help him out by pointing my house out to him, but I didn’t have to. He was quick to come to a stop in front of it, placing the gear in neutral. He turned his head and looked at me, smiling, “Arrived.”

“Yeah.” I whispered and grabbed my backpack, looking out the window, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden downpour, the car’s windshield wiper good for nothing at this point, “Damn, why is it raining so hard?”

“I hate it.” Mingi whined as he looked ahead too, lips jutting out in a pout, “I can’t even drive home now.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t.” I agreed as my eyebrows furrowed, “It’s not safe at all.”

“Yeah,” Mingi sighed and turned the engine off, undoing his seatbelt, “I’ll just wait for it to settle down, and then I’ll drive home.”

“Yeah, you should do that.” I agreed, looking at him, the rain hitting the roof of Mingi’s old Honda Prelude loud, “And text me when you get home, so that I know you’re safe.”

Mingi’s cheeks flushed, but just ever so slightly, and my eyes widened as he tried to avoid eye contact the more persistent I became, “Yeah, uh, I will. Promise I won’t forget this time.”

“You better,” I chuckled, rolling my eyes remembering all the times he would forget to text me that he had gotten to his destination safely, “I’m going now.”

“Okay.” Mingi’s head turned and we made eye contact for a second, before I offered him a small smile and pushed the door open, springing out of his car. It didn’t even take a minute for me to be completely drenched by the rainwater as I very quickly slammed Mingi’s door shut, gasping as my clothes got instantly soaked, hair sticking to my head. I turned and took off towards my house, running, but realizing it didn’t matter since I was already soaked. Well, so much for Mingi driving me home to save me from the freezing cold downpour. As I reached the middle of the driveway, I dared to take a peek at the sky, realizing that the almost black clouds looked menacing, and God knows when they’d pass, when the rain would stop. I stopped and turned, looking towards Mingi’s car as I bit my lower lip, having to blink my eyes fast to be able to see something. No car was driving down the roads anymore, no person out on the streets. What if the rain wouldn’t stop at all? It’s happened before, not even once. Would Mingi stay out in the car? He wouldn’t be able to leave if that were the case. Taking a deep breath, I made my decision as I raced back to his car, yanking the door open as I leaned down, Mingi’s wide eyes falling on my soaked form.

“Come inside, who knows when it’ll stop raining.” I called out loudly over the sound of the rain and the sudden rumble of the sky, making me shiver. I hated the thunder perhaps more than the flashing lightning. Mingi opened his mouth, probably to refuse my offer, but I didn’t leave room for him to argue, “Come on!”

And as I slammed the door shut again, he was out of the car in a second, closing his own door and locking his car quite clumsily, exclaiming as he got soaked in seconds, just like myself. I laughed as I took off towards the house, Mingi racing after me, giggling loudly as we reached the front steps of the porch, both shivering as I struggled to grab my keys out of my pocket.

“Oh my God, this sucks!” Mingi exclaimed just as another thunder shook the ground, and I jumped, throwing a glare towards the sky. Mingi saw it and chuckled, urging me to unlock the door, “Doll, I’m freezing my ass off, please open the door!”

“Who’s the drenched puppy kicked to the curb now, huh?” I asked with a teasing grin as I unlocked the front door, pushing it open. Mingi chuckled and rolled his eyes, but not before playfully pushing me forward, urging me on to step inside the house first.

We could only hope the downpour would stop soon enough.

❱❱ Next chapter

[mendeshoney]

this close isn't close enough

a/n: happy thirsty thurday fellow harlots ^_^

this is a small little part 3 ish/sequel to take me back to eden (you can find part one here and part two here) that just popped into my head and i figured i'd jot it down for you all to enjoy. it does discuss wanting and trying for a child, so if that's not something you're comfortable with, this may not be for you, so read with caution. this is for @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech because without them this fictional andrei wouldn't exist! title is from "melt" by kehlani

warnings/tags: nine year age gap, older man x younger woman, slice of married life, baby fever, fluff, lots of smut, shower sex, hotel sex (semi-public, against the window), oral sex, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy/impregnation

word count: 12,163

“Almaznyy?” Andrei calls out, removing his reading glasses with one hand as he shuts his laptop with the other, then rubs the bridge of his nose.

He counts to ten in his head, waiting for your response, but it doesn’t come. The soft and familiar whrrrrr of a machine echoes back at him instead, and he sighs, a small smile stretching across his face as he gets up from his desk to wander down the hall.

When he makes it down the hall and to the threshold that leads to you, he's not surprised in the slightest to find you at your pottery wheel. Your back is to him as you sit on your stool, headphones on as your body lightly moves along to the music playing, hands firm and shaping the clay in front of you into what he knows is the makings of a teapot.

Beside you, on the work table, Andrei sees two mugs newly finished with their handles attached, two finished matching saucer plates that need to be painted with glaze and fired, and two little spoons, already fired and glazed, probably newly taken out of the kiln. Beyond that, he also spots two jars - one for honey and one for sugar cubes, you had told him - and three brand new jars of glaze.

He takes a second to himself to just silently admire you, his beautiful wife of nearly two years, and lets his heart beat wild and content in his chest.

Andrei had converted one of his guest rooms into your own little art studio not long after you moved in with him, and by converted, he means he took out all the furniture, stripped the carpet, and let you decorate and furnish it how you saw fit.

He tried his best to learn as much as he could about what kinds of art you liked creating, the tools you used, but in truth, a lot of it was lost on him, and you had more mediums of art you were interested in than you cared to admit. Andrei had ended up giving you his card instead, telling you to buy whatever it was you needed or wanted, so that the space became exactly what you had always dreamed of.

You had been meticulous about it, too, and Andrei adored every second of watching you design the space back then. The flooring was first - you insisted on water and stain proof vinyl floors - followed by shelves, storage drawers, a small desk, your massive work table, and other organizing things. Then, once you had a place and space for everything, you bought canvases, a pottery wheel, clay, easels, paints, a sketchbook, pencils, pens, markers, and more.

You’d bought a kiln, too, which had its own place in a little shed he bought and had built for you outside. Since you'd gotten back into pottery and started making pieces, you'd been able to sell some to a few of the wives, girlfriends, and partners of players on the team, as well as some of Andrei's co-workers in the Canes' front office. You had even put a few up of your paintings and drawings you'd done on your larger canvases in their charity auctions over the last couple of years, which had given you a significant amount of your own money.

Andrei encouraged you to go legit and open up a shop, which was an idea you'd been slowly getting used to. You'd set up a website so far, and had sold your first collection a couple of months ago - planters and vases and hanging planters and such - which had done extremely well, but you insisted you wanted to still be able to find fun in doing it again instead of allowing it to feel like an obligation.

To help with that as of late, had been your project of a tea set for his mom's birthday, which was still months away. You'd been using the kiln a lot more because of it, for test pieces as well as the actual pieces themselves, so more often than not lately, your art studio is where he found you.

"If you call for me and I don't respond to you in ten seconds," you'd told him when you first started on the set, "I'm either in here, or at the kiln out back."

Quietly, he observes as you shape the lump of clay in the center of your wheel into a sphere, then, unhappy with the roundness, you carefully squeeze at it until it's back into another lump, before shaping it out once more. The rise of your shoulders before they tense as you start to create a hole in the middle of the clay, and the fall of them again when you start to pinch at the walls until it forms into the exact shape you want.

Only when you stop the wheel and dip your hands into the bowl of water beside you to get rid of the excess clay does Andrei approach, carefully placing his hands on your shoulders to give you a gentle squeeze.

You tilt your head back, bumping it into his abdomen gently as you gaze up at him with his favorite dazzling smile. He carefully removes your headphones, putting it on the work table and smoothing your hair down.

"Hi baby," he murmurs, bending down to press a kiss to your forehead, the tip of your nose, and then to your lips.

You hum softly before sitting up, turning yourself around on the stool to face him. "Hi handsome," you return, grabbing a towel from the work table and wiping your hands before settling them on his waist, fingers playing with the belt loops of his jeans. "Did you call for me a lot?"

"Just once," he says, unable to resist bending down to kiss you again.

He loves looking at you like this, soft in the mid morning light, a blissful smile on your face with dots of clay and glaze over your cheeks and on the little apron you have covering your clothes. He loves how he can smell the vanilla of your body wash among the earthen scents in the art studio, and how it makes him feel like he's completely at peace.

Andrei loves you. His almaznyy. His beautiful diamond. His wife.

"What's going on?" You ask him, those beautiful eyes crinkling at the edges in another one of his favorite smiles when his hands descend into your hair, carding the strands between his fingers.

"I bought the tickets for us to go and visit Evgeny and Sara." He says.

"Oh good," you say with a nod before leaning into his touch. "When do we leave?"

"Next week," he says, tugging playfully on a strand of your hair and chuckling softly when you pout at him for it. "Is that okay?"

You wrap your arms around his waist, rubbing your face into his clothed abdomen, your verbal response muffled in the fabric. Andrei laughs, scratching gently at your scalp. "What was that, almaznyy?"

"Da," you say, leaning back to look at him again but keeping your arms secured around his waist. "That's fine with me."

He smirks when he spots a familiar glint in your eyes, watching the way your pupils dilate then blow out a little wide when he cups your face in his hands, thumbs caressing at your jaw. "My busy little almaznyy, you've been working hard lately, haven't you?"

You nod, humming in agreement. He nods too, letting one of his hands trail down and to the back of your neck, deftly undoing the knots at the top of your apron. "So diligent," he praises, "What did I do to deserve you?"

Your eyes track him as he removes his hands from your body, lowering himself to his knees so he can wrap his arms around your waist to get at the ties behind you. He buries his face into your neck as he does so, adoring the way your head immediately tilts to allow him the room. He ghosts his lips across the skin as he undoes the ties around your waist, ignoring your little whines of protest when he pulls the apron off of you and tosses it to the side.

He sits back on his haunches, looking up at you with a Cheshire grin of his own. "You got clay on your clothes too, almaznyy." He playfully chastises, gesturing towards the little flecks of clay on the black shirt you're wearing - which is most definitely his - and to the miniscule spots on your sweatpants. "Think we should probably get you cleaned up in that case, shouldn't we?"

A small smirk crosses your lips as you nod, and Andrei smiles, surging up to wrap you in his arms. You go easily, both your bodies on muscle memory as you wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, and he lifts you into his hold easily, standing with you and carrying you off down the hall to your bedroom.

~

The warm spray of the shower cascades down his bare back as Andrei fucks you slow and deep against the tiles, his arms settled into the space behind your knees as he holds you up and open for him.

Your cries echo around the bathroom, your arms wrapped around his neck and fingers tangled in his hair, grasping at the strands desperately, his name a repeated plea on your lips.

"More," you beg sweetly, and he smiles, eyes locked on your face. He lowers you a little bit, and on the next push in, your eyes flutter shut as your mouth falls open in a beautiful cry, pussy squeezing around his cock in a way that makes him so fucking dizzy.

"Come on baby," he coaxes, pressing you impossibly closer against the tiles and against himself, burying his face in your neck to suck a bruise into the skin. With every press of his hips forward, your clit grinds against his abs, and he can feel the way your body begins to tense up and shake in his hold, your nails disappearing from his scalp to dig into his shoulders instead.

His name leaves your lips in another desperate plea, and he chuckles, nipping playfully at the skin of your neck, your jaw, before capturing your lips in a filthy kiss. He licks into your mouth, massaging his tongue with yours before he pulls away just slightly, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth as he goes.

"Is my pretty wife going to come on her husband's cock?" He taunts, and he sees the way the words go straight through you, your eyes glazing over, body going almost lax in his grip.

(He'd gotten much filthier and practically insane with his dirty talk over time. It started not long after you'd left Eden and began officially dating nearly seven months after meeting, and had only gotten more intense during the three month time span that you'd been engaged. It didn't help the fact that he noticed you particularly loved when he called you his wife, regardless of the situation.)

"Andrei," you plead. "Please."

"Please what, pretty baby?" He murmurs, dragging his lips against yours lazily, "What is it my pretty wife wants, hm?"

Your pussy squeezes down again and he groans, stealing another filthy kiss from you. "'M so close," you say between kisses, dragging your nails across his shoulders again.

He keeps your legs hooked over his bent arms, reaching his hands down to squeeze at your waist, thumb rubbing gently over where he knows a little diamond tattoo sits at your side, fucking you onto his cock in deep, sharp thrusts that steal your breath from you, and your eyes squeeze shut as your body shakes even more in his hold.

Andrei latches his lips to that sensitive spot on your neck, pressing his body tight against yours. That, and the added friction as your clit rubs against his abs, your sensitive nipples brushing against his chiseled chest, has you coming around him with a loud cry. Your pussy clamps down, pulsing around him and Andrei groans, holding you tight as he fucks past the grip, chasing after his own orgasm.

He groans low and deep, electricity shooting up his spine as he comes, filling you from where he's buried deep. It sends your body into a second orgasm almost immediately, and Andrei curses, muttering a string of Russian in your ear at the unexpected sensation.

You both take a blissful, fucked out moment to calm down, heartbeats slowing and breathing returning to normal.

"Okay?" He murmurs after a few minutes, and you nod, sighing happily in his hold. He taps your hips, and you nod again. An unhappy sounding noise leaves you when he gently pulls out, and his heart aches a little bit, thinking you’re probably sore. He’s immediately pressing apologetic kisses to your forehead while lowering you to the ground. His hands stay on your body, keeping you steady until you manage to stand on your own.

When his eyes finally get back to your face, there's an expression there he hasn't seen before, one he can't quite place. There's a tinge of disappointment there, and longing, and it brings a frown to his face too.

He cups your face in his hands, tilting your head up to look at him. When your eyes lock, the expression fades, and the smile that takes over your face is so brightly it almost knocks him off of his feet.

"What's wrong, almaznyy?" He says, thumb brushing against your cheeks.

You lean into his touch, hands circling around his wrists. "Nothing, Drei." You promise, "I'm perfectly happy."

There's nothing in your voice or in your face now that tells him that you're lying, or that you're hiding anything from him, so he has no reason to not believe you.

Still, he stores the expression he saw away for later, keeping it in mind just in case.

He takes his time washing you both off after that, enjoying the content noises you make as he shampoos your hair and wraps you up in a fluffy towel when you're all done, pressing gentle kisses all over your face before seizing your mouth in a kiss he hopes tells you "I'm so in love with you I think my heart might burst without you."

~

Andrei quickly darts out of the way as a little boy zooms past him, his father chasing after him and tossing a “sorry!” over his shoulder as he goes.

He laughs a little, calling out a “it’s okay!” in their way as he double checks that he still has a hold on your drinks and food before he keeps walking. 

He heads back into the airport lounge and straight for you, handing you a cup of hot chocolate and a warmed up croissant from one of the bistros in the terminal. You accept it with a happy smile and a murmured ‘thank you’ before he snuggles up next to you on the little couch you’ve both managed to commandeer for yourselves.

He glances over at your airport outfit once more, mostly because he can’t help but appreciate how cozy you look.

Admittedly, he’s still got a small habit of dressing up when he flies, so he’s his standard in black pants and a white shirt, and you insisted on matching with him when you got dressed this morning. You’re in black lounge pants, a white shirt, and you have a gray sweater tied and resting around your shoulders.

Andrei figured out that when you fly you prefer to have your own blanket with you, which you have curled around your shoulders right now as you take a sip of your hot chocolate.

You look more ready for a cozy winter than you do for a week-long vacation during the summer in San Jose.

“Is it good baby?” He asks, taking a sip of his own coffee. You nod, holding the cup to your cheek. Another thing he learned - you get cold easily, but especially in airports.

“Very,” you nod, leaning your head to rest on his shoulder. “Spasibo, malysh.”

“You’re welcome, almaznyy.” 

He’s content to relax like that with you, and when he takes his phone out once you’ve finished your drinks, you help him with the crossword puzzle game he became addicted to once he saw you playing it yourself.

The two of you are engrossed in trying to figure out a six letter word for the clue “tough” when there’s a blur of pale yellow accompanied by a flurry of giggles that crashes into your legs, and it makes both of you jump up a little in surprise.

It’s a baby boy, Andrei realizes, one who’s most likely just learned what running is given the delighted and mischievous expression on his face, and when he turns to check if you’re okay, he’s surprised to find you out of your seat, blanket abandoned, and kneeling on the floor in front of the child to see if they’re okay.

The baby looks like he’s seconds from crying, but then you’re smiling, speaking at him quietly and gently, and to Andrei’s amazement, the baby stops, looks at you, and then bursts into a fit of giggles.

You laugh, happy that you could make him feel better, and continue to speak to him while he babbles away at you. He’s seen you do it with Luka, coaxing him away from a tantrum he’d been seconds away from, and calming Mila down when she scraped her knee while learning to ride her bike that first time, and it still amazes him how good you are with kids. Something warm and fuzzy starts to grow in his heart, and it stops short when a woman who Andrei can only assume is the baby’s mother approaches.

“I’m so sorry!” She says, jogging toward where you and the baby are on the ground. “Leo’s just discovered how fast he can move but we’re still working on finding his brakes.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure her through a laugh. “My nephew Luka was the same.”

My nephew - Andrei still loved that you thought that way.

“He probably had places to be and we were just in the way, weren’t we Leo?” You tease, pulling a funny face at Leo. His mom laughs when Leo bursts into giggles, picking Leo up into her arms.

“He’s fast,” Andrei notes when you stand with her, “How old is he?”

“He just turned one,” his mom gushes. 

You make a little cooing sound. “Is he your first?”

Leo’s mother shakes her head with a laugh. “You’d think so, but I have a three year old too. His name’s Sky, he’s with my husband over there, we finally just got him to settle down but then this little guy decided it was time to sprint.”

You and Andrei look over to where Leo’s mom gestured, finding the three year old who almost ran him over earlier eating snacks while his dad watches over him, all the while looking over at his wife and smiling when he sees her.

Andrei knows that smile, he probably sends that same smile your way about a hundred times a day. 

Ulybka vlyublennogo muzhchiny. His mom had said. The smile of a man in love.

“You should think about getting them into sports soon.” Andrei says when he turns back toward the mom, “Sky almost tackled me in the terminal earlier-”

“-And Leo barely flinched when he ran into me!” You tease, making another funny face at the baby. He giggles, suddenly growing shy as he hides in his mom’s shoulders.

She laughs, “Everyone’s been saying that to me. I might just have to consider it.”

Andrei reaches into his pocket, grabbing his business card from his wallet and hands it to the mother with a small smile. “If you ever think they’re interested in hockey, give me a call or send me an email. I’d be happy to get them set up.”

The mother takes Andrei’s card with a curious look, and when she reads his name, her eyes light up in recognition, and she smiles, laughing a little to herself.

“I knew you looked familiar! My husband and I are big fans. We were there for your last cup winning game. It’s so nice to meet you!”

Andrei catches the glance you shoot at him from the corner of his eye, can see the tense line of your shoulders in his peripheral, but he gives the mother an easy smile, and your body relaxes.

Now that he has you, that time in his life isn’t so painful anymore.

“Thank you,” he says genuinely. “I’m glad that you were there, it felt good to have home crowd support.”

“I appreciate your offer, I’ll definitely reach out.” She says, then looks at both of you. “It was nice meeting you both, you’re such a lovely couple!”

You both say your goodbyes, you waving at baby Leo, who waves back shyly, then looks at Andrei. Andrei waves too, and to his surprise, baby Leo waves back to him too, before burying his face in his mother’s shoulder.

You finally return to your seat on the couch next to Andrei, wrapping both of your arms around his, resting your chin on his shoulder as you smile brightly up at him.

“That was hot of you.” You say, which has Andrei laughing in surprise.

“What was, almaznyy?”

“You and your business cards.” You say, scrunching your nose a little. “I liked it, it was very authoritative.”

Andrei shakes his head, booping your nose with his finger. “Calm yourself down, almaznyy. I’m still not interested in being part of the mile high club.”

You roll your eyes with a shrug, but relax fully against his side. “Offer still stands.”

~

You're laying on the floor of Sara and Evgeny's living room, laughing as you bounce eight month old baby Alexei up and down against your belly, watching as his little legs kick back and forth and he babbles his joy. From beside you, three year old Luka lays on his belly as he plays with the train set Andrei had bought him last Christmas, and five year old Mila rests on your other side, coloring diligently in the sketchbook you'd bought her for her birthday.

She'd seen you drawing in one of your journals and had become both enraptured and amazed as she observed you, and then had been overjoyed when you handed her the book and pencil so she could create her own drawings as she pleased.

Her parents had been worried that she might accidentally press the pencil too tight and ruin one of your other drawings, or accidentally draw over something you had done, but either way, you would have cared less. "It's good for her to do it this way," you had told them, "so she knows what she makes is important, too."

On the couch above you, Sara's feeding a bottle to Alexei's twin brother Aleksander, watching you and her children. She smiles, nudging you gently in the side with her socked feet.

"You're a natural at this," she praises. "The kids always seem to behave better when you're here."

You scoff a little, making nonsensical noises at Alexei as he babbles back at you. "Hardly," you say. "I think it's because Andrei wears them out first."

When you and Andrei come around, he tends to round up his niece and nephews, tiring the older ones out by running around while you and Sara or Evgeny or Andrei's parents help with the twins.

Sara shakes her head. "No, he might wear them out, but they still have plenty of room to be crazy. You settle them down. This is the quietest they've been all day."

You look at your nieces and nephews at where they each are, peaceful and happy and content, and you shrug, smiling a little to yourself. "I guess so."

Sara laughs, nudging you again. "So, when are you gonna have some little ones of your own? We're outnumbered by boys here and it's your turn to pop a baby out for once."

You falter slightly, almost dropping baby Alexei straight on your face before you catch him effortlessly, trying to ignore the wave of dizziness when you launch yourself upright into a sitting position. Luka and Mila barely spare either of you a glance, too focused on what they're doing. You gaze at Sara, holding Alexei tight with one hand while shushing her with the other.

"Not so loud!" You half whisper, half yell.

Andrei and Evgeny were just in the kitchen not too far away, and while they were probably distracted by shop talk, you couldn't risk him hearing like this.

Sara narrows her eyes at you, frowning, whisper-yelling right back. "You told me on the phone last week that you were going to talk to him about it! And the week before that, and two weeks before that!"

You groan, shaking your head and beginning to bounce Alexei again when he starts to fuss. Sara shakes her head right back at you, gesturing for you to follow her as she heads toward the twins' nursery, instructing Mila and Luka to "wait right here while mommy talks to your aunt."

As you head to the nursery, you pass Andrei and Evgeny who are, as expected, engrossed in their conversation, but it doesn't stop Andrei from tossing a wink at you as you pass by.

You pointedly ignore the way it makes butterflies swarm and swoop in your stomach, smiling softly in return before ducking out of sight and into the nursery. Sara shuts the door behind you, giving you a pointed look as she does so.

You'd had best friends before, obviously, but never an older sister figure, and none quite like Sara. When Andrei had introduced you two, she'd been nothing but welcoming, friendly, and someone you'd come to rely on quite a lot since then.

When she announced she was pregnant with twins last year, you'd been overjoyed for her, and often traveled back and forth between San Jose and Raleigh to help her with the babies, especially since it had been Evgeny's first year working with the coaching staff of the Sharks, having previously been in the front office.

Maybe it was the excitement you got in helping her decorate the nursery, even though most of it was taken care of since they had things from Luka and Mila, or maybe it was just all the preparation you helped her with, but it had given you severe baby fever.

Like...severe.

Severe enough that you were practically ready to be pregnant that very same day until reality kicked in and knocked some serious sense into you.

You'd asked her how she and Evgeny had approached the topic of having kids, if she had advice on how you should broach the subject with Andrei, and she had only one thing to say.

"They're pretty direct people," she had said. "It's best to rip the bandaid off with something like that."

A couple of months ago, she texted you a picture of the twins in the matching pajama set you'd bought, and something in it made you want to finally talk to Andrei about it. So you told Sara that you would.

But...

The second you'd gone to Andrei in his office about it, you suddenly got cold feet. Realistically, you two hadn't actually talked about having kids before. Things with the two of you had been unconventional and fast from the start, so granted, you both had done things a little messily and quite backwards.

Still, the worst he could say to you was "no" or "not right now baby," but despite your past mess you two had always been on the same page, so the idea of hearing a "not right now" was okay, but hearing "no"?

Yeah, not something you had exactly prepared yourself for.

So instead of allowing there to be room for a "no" or "not right now," you just...didn't say a word.

Which Sara was definitely going to yell at you for.

Or at least, whisper yell, what with the twins going down for their nap and all.

Sara lays a droopy Aleksander into his crib, and he falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow. She takes Alexei from you next, sitting in the rocking chair set up in the corner of the room to start to feed him his bottle while you sit on the floor, gazing at baby Aleksander through the bars of his crib.

"What in the world are you waiting for?" Sara asks you, voice soft but firm in the nursery. 

You groan a little to yourself. "I just haven't gotten around to it, okay?"

"Yes, but why?" She presses. "You know he won't say no to you."

"I actually don't know that. He might not be able to say no when I ask for help, or ask for something, but children are not things to ask for. It's an entire human being you're bringing into the world, you know!"

Sara gives you a deadpan expression. "Of course I know, I've brought four of them into existence."

"Then you know that it's a lot to ask. Even if I want a child, even if I want to be a mom and raise my kids and bring them up, that doesn't guarantee that Andrei wants the same."

"He'll want them with you." Sara insists. "He'll want them because you'll be their mother and he's in love with you and those kids will be half of you and he'll be so proud to say that they're your children."

The idea fills you with hope, but you tamp it down. You have to be realistic about this. You know your husband, and you know that while Sara's right and he will do anything for you, he also probably won't handle this being sprung on him as a surprise, or appreciate being confronted with it out of the blue.

"Just get rid of your birth control and tell him you want a kid." Sara insists, and your eyes bug out of your head.

"Are you insane?" You whisper yell. "That would definitely give him a heart attack."

"Don't be so dramatic," she says, rolling her eyes. "He's too young to have those."

"I'll talk to him," you promise, more to yourself than to Sara. "But I'm not using any of your suggestions."

Sara shrugs. "Fine by me, but there'd better be a new baby next Christmas, and it won't be mine."

~

In the kitchen, Andrei watches with fond eyes as you disappear into the nursery with Sara and the twins. He's listening to what Evgeny's talking about, he really is, but his eyes are locked on the silent screen of the baby monitor, showing you handing Alexei off to Sara after Sara's put Aleksander down.

Watching you with his niece and nephews all day had filled his heart with something warm and fuzzy, something he couldn't quite place.

The way that you cared for his family since he introduced you to them was something that made Andrei incredibly happy, and he could tell that the way that they cared for you in turn made you just as happy.

He often caught you speaking with his mother on the phone, trying your best to only stick to Russian as best as possible to make her comfortable. His father didn't reach out often, but when he did, you did your best to converse with him too. Sometimes, when you thought Andrei wasn't looking, he'd see you reading through a Russian textbook in your art studio, brushing up on the language.

You talked to Sara almost every week, the two of you growing to be as close as sisters, and that made Andrei happy considering the only real sibling relationship you had was still pretty strained. Even after Andrei married you, your brother Joshua still wasn't his favorite person, which was unfortunate, considering his husband Sam was an angel and one of your favorite people.

Evgeny had also grown closer to you a little, considering how much you helped him and Sara prepare for the arrival of the twins. There were times he'd reach out to you if he couldn't reach Andrei for any reason, and Evgeny often teased Andrei about how more often than not, it seemed like a freak accident that he'd managed to find someone like you to be his wife.

"Believe me," Andrei had told his brother. "I know."

He listens intently to his brother as he discusses what's going on with the Sharks, clearly seeking Andrei's advice, but all the while, Andrei keeps his eyes on you, watches you through the baby monitor as you sit with Sara and the twins.

Everything about your body language screams comfort, like there's nowhere in the world you'd rather be, and it brings a smile to his face unconsciously.

Evgeny pauses in his ranting, glancing to the baby monitor and rolling his eyes, shoving at Andrei. "Obrashchat' vnimaniye," he scolds. Pay attention.

"I am!" Andrei insists, turning his full attention back to his brother. "You were saying?"

Evgeny opens his mouth, then closes it, a curious expression crossing his features. "Have you thought about it?"

"About what?" Andrei asks, moving his brother so he can go into the fridge and steal one of those obnoxious glass bottles of water Evgeny insists on buying.

"About what comes after marriage," Evgeny says. "About having kids."

Andrei almost drops the water bottle on the kitchen floor, can hear it shatter in his ears, but he's pretty sure that's his brain doing that. "About what?" He asks, voice practically an echo in his head.

Evgeny shakes his head. "Ty takoy idiot."

Andrei turns to face him, frowning. "I am not an idiot."

"You are, actually. Have you two not talked about having kids?"

Andrei opens his mouth, then shuts it.

You two actually hadn't. Not really. Not at all, now that he thought about it.

Evgeny shakes his head. "Listen, I know you're enjoying your never ending honeymoon phase, but it wouldn't hurt to ask."

Andrei takes a swig from his water, glancing at you on the monitor.

You've got Alexei in your arms now, feeding him the rest of his bottle while Sara rests on the rocking chair, eyes on Aleksander.

His heart does a little flip, imagining you holding a little baby that's got your nose and his eyes, and it brings back the warm and fuzzy feeling he'd felt earlier.

Maybe...maybe it was worth a discussion.

~

Since Evgeny's house had gotten crowded with all the kids, Andrei had booked a suite for the two of you at the Marriott.

It had a lovely view of the city, especially at night, and Andrei enjoyed it even more with your naked body pressed against one of the many floor to ceiling windows, watching the way your face twisted with pleasure in the reflection of the glass.

The lights were off in the hotel room, so there wasn't a single chance of anyone seeing what the two of you were up to, but the thrill was there all the same. He wanted to show you off, show off his beautiful little wife, the only diamond he ever needed.

Your palm prints littered the window as you pushed back against him, and Andrei groaned, tightening the grip on your hips, fingers pressing against where he knew that little diamond tattoo rested beneath the waistband of your thong.

He could barely wait, barely think by the time you both got back to the hotel. The second your jeans were off, he pulled your thong to the side and slid in to the hilt, burying himself inside of you and making you come all over him in seconds.

It wasn't often that Andrei took you from behind. More often than not, he preferred looking at you, preferred watching the beautiful faces you made and watching the way your body reacted to his own. But in times like these, where there was something that could help him watch you, he couldn't exactly complain.

He releases his hold on one of your hips, letting his hands wander up your torso, bringing you upright against him as he bends his knees a little, adjusting for your height difference so he can cage you against him as he fucks into you.

Pleasant and happy noises leave you as he plays with one of your nipples, then the other, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses on your neck. His nails gently scratch at the valley between your breasts, making you shiver, before trailing his hand down your stomach.

He had every intention of putting his fingers to your clit, rubbing gently there the way you liked when he took you like this, but instead, his hands lingered on your stomach, on where he could feel the slight bulge of where his cock fucked in and out of you, and he found his hands resting there instead.

A shiver ran through your body, your pussy pushing back on his cock again as if on impulse, and a deep, pleased noise rumbled through Andrei's chest.

"Almaznyy?" He murmured against your neck, finding the sensitive spot below your ear and sucking against it gently.

You gasped in his hold, shaking a little, and he chuckled, pressing his hand against the little bulge of your stomach, the hand he still had on your waist tightening its grip, pressing his fingers a little more into the diamond tattoo.

"Can you feel me here, moya krasivaya zhena?" He asks you, cock throbbing when you squeeze against him in excitement. You loved it when he called you ‘my pretty wife.’ "Can you feel me fucking you?"

You nod, frantic, hands gripping onto his arms. "Please, malysh, wanna come."

"You wanna come already?" He taunts. "Gonna come for me in front of the whole city?"

A soft whine leaves your lips as he thrusts in particularly hard, emphasizing his question.

"Yes," you answer, nearly breathless.

“And what about me?” He teases, pressing his hand against your stomach a little more. "You want me to come inside, almaznyy? Want me to come right here?"

In the reflection of the window, he catches the way your eyes slam shut before you throw your head back against his shoulder, mouth open in a silent cry and body seizing as your orgasm claims you. Your pussy clenches impossibly tight, and it sends Andrei over the edge in seconds, pushing down on your waist to bury himself inside of you, cock throbbing almost painfully as he comes.

The two of you shake silently for a second, and Andrei holds you both upright as best as he can until he can feel your body as it calms down. He pulls out gently, not wasting a second before he scoops you up, walking you over to the bed to lay you on it gently before he climbs on beside you.

You go to him almost immediately, and his arms open on instinct, welcoming you in his embrace as you bury your nose in his chest.

He wants to say something, anything. He wants to ask you if what just happened was okay, if you're okay, if he didn't cross a line, if you maybe wanted to try that again sometime soon or maybe if you want to try it in a different position.

But then he hears your breathing start to even out, feels the way your body goes lax in his hold, and he resigns himself to discussing it another time.

~

The following day, you and Andrei head back over to Sara and Evgeny’s for lunch. You help Sara put the kids down for their naps after you all eat, and Andrei and Evgeny handle the dishes.

When you and Sara come out of the kids’ rooms, you’re met with a chorus of laughter from Andrei, Evgeny, and then their mother’s voice echoes through the living room.

Peeking around the corner, you can see Andrei and Evegny crowded around Evgeny’s laptop, definitely on FaceTime with their mother.

She signals to you to hang back, and you nod. You’re more than happy to give Andrei and his brother the alone time they need to speak with their mom, so you lean back against the wall, Sara against the one opposite you, and you smile at each other when you hear the brother excitedly converse with their mother in Russian.

Your fluency has gotten better, but it’s not one hundred percent - same with Sara’s - so the two of you can only really pick up on bits and pieces here and there, catching tidbits of their mother’s praises for her boys along with her normal chastising.

You two are looking fit!

Still, you both need to eat more. 

You’re working too hard.

Are you ready for the upcoming season?

Oh my brilliant boys!

How are my daughters?

How are the grandkids?

Evgeny, you’d better bring them by soon so I can babysit.

Andrei, how are you doing?

Are you and my favorite girl happy?

When are you two going to give me more grandchildren?!

That last part sends a shock through your body, and Sara nudges you with her foot at the same time Andrei begins to stutter and stammer in the living room.

Their mom starts to say something else when her voice gets quieter, and you realize Andrei’s turned the volume down. His voice gets a little quieter, and Evgeny’s loud laughter drowns out whatever Andrei says in return to their mother.

Sara gives you another pointed look, as if to say “So you still didn’t talk to him about it.”

You roll your eyes, and she nudges your foot again before dragging you down the hall and into her and Evgeny’s bedroom. 

“For the love of God,” she says. “I know you said you’re not taking my suggestions, but you are going to have to take this one, specifically with the promise that you’ll at least save it until you get back to Raleigh.”

You answer her with a deadpan stare, and she sighs, exasperated, before gesturing to you. 

“You have to seduce him.” She says plainly. “It’s how I did it with Evgeny, and it’s how you’re going to have to do it with Andrei instead of tiptoeing around.”

You’re slightly dumbfounded, so all you can manage is a weak “What?”

“Remember when I told you to rip the bandaid off?” She asks, and you nod. She waves a hand around, “Well, that’s what I meant by that. Seduce him. Rip the bandaid off.”

“Seduce him…” You say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement.

Sara grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you a bit. “You know he loves you, you know he thinks you’re hot. Use it.”

Sara doesn’t know how you and Andrei met, no one does except Lottie, Oli, Mason, Eli, and you and Andrei. She has no idea about your past.

Which means she has no idea that if there is anything you know how to do, it’s seduce Andrei.

~

You try your best to clear your mind, focusing on exfoliating your skin as you shower and the things you’re planning on doing once this shower is done.

It had been a week since you’d returned from visiting with Sara and Evgeny, and this morning, you’d gone to see your OBGYN doctor to discuss…well, a possible game plan.

You agreed that after you finished this round of birth control pills and had your period, you and Andrei would probably start trying.

And well, after you spoke to Andrei about all of this, of course. 

But Sara was right, seduction might have to come first. You were too out of sorts to wait any longer.

He had been gone this morning when you went to your appointment, having to be at the practice rink to watch the team’s morning skate, and when you had returned home after running some errands, he’d been in his office for a string of phone calls, which he said he’d be in and out of till about two this afternoon.

It was about noon, then. So you’d gone on a run, had a little pep talk with yourself to prepare for the impending conversation, and strategized.

The pep talk you had was simple - if during said conversation, Andrei voiced that he didn’t want kids, that was that. You would not be forcing him into anything he didn’t want or trying to convince him, and the two of you would likely talk things out from there.

If he did want kids, perfect, you could talk about that, but, you could also give him a bit of extra motivation.

Which brought you to the seduction strategy you’d developed so carefully on the way back from your run.

It was about one in the afternoon when you got back, so you threw together a quick lunch for you and Andrei to have - once he was done with his phone calls and you - and it was about one thirty when you hopped into the shower.

You’d gone for a wax right after your doctor’s appointment, as part of the errands you ran, along with a mani pedi, but a little extra gentle exfoliation on the legs never hurt anyone.

Once you finished in the shower, you toweled off and applied the vanilla lotion Andrei loved the most on you, before slipping on one of your favorite sundresses. It was also one Andrei liked on you, particularly because it was just the right side of see through. 

Hence, why it was a key part to your strategy.

It might be devious, and it’s definitely playing dirty, but you need a little ammunition on your side, if not for the sake of a small confidence boost to get you through the conversation.

You did this for a living, for a time. You did this specifically for Andrei before, it shouldn’t be too hard to do it for him again. Sure, the way that you seduced him now looked different, the way that you were together now had changed drastically, but Sara was right. At the very least, Andrei loved you, and he never failed to remind you how attractive you were to him.

So hopefully, this worked.

You checked the time on the clock on your nightstand - one fifty five. A quick glance in the mirror assured you this was the best option outfit wise, and your nerves reminded you that you’d both probably need a little bit of liquid courage for this next bit. Heading back out to the kitchen, you make yourself a quick margarita and pour Andrei a shot of his favorite whisky. 

If there was anything you knew about your husband, sometimes he just needed a little something to take the edge off before he could plow forward with whatever it was he needed to do. He was bound to be nervous once you brought up the idea of having a baby, especially if you were going to be playing just a little bit dirty about it. 

You grabbed both glasses and headed back down the hall to Andrei’s office. Just as you crossed the threshold, he was bidding whoever was on the other line goodbye, and you took a deep breath to steel yourself.

Andrei is your husband. You love each other. You reminded yourself. He is your husband. You can get through anything together.

Andrei smiles when you hand him his glass, his reading glasses perched on his nose making him look both hot, authoritative, and innocent all at once. “Now how did you know I needed this, moya zhena?”

You shrug, playing innocent. “A lucky guess.”

You both toast, clinking your glasses before each taking a sip of your respective drinks. You try to hide your smile behind your glass as you do, but you should’ve known better.

Andrei’s almost always looking at you, so nothing ever could get past your loving and doting husband.

“What’s that smile doing there?” He teases, and it’s then that he seems to finally take in what you’re wearing.

And that you’re wearing nothing underneath it.

You try another innocent smile, but Andrei raises a brow in suspicion, quirking his finger and summoning you to his side of the desk.

Placing your glass down on the mahogany, you round the desk to his side, obeying when he taps the desk and jumping up, taking a seat but keeping your legs crossed.

You don’t want him distracted.

“Are you about to ask me for something expensive, almaznyy? Because if you are, you’re off to a good start.”

You never actually needed to do anything if it was expensive, including asking him for anything, since you did have your own income, and you both knew that. But still, every now and again you liked to pretend like you did, liked the way it made Andrei nervous and pliant, like he didn’t meet you the way he actually did, like he wasn’t familiar with the concept. 

But that wasn’t what you were going for here.

“Well,” you start, “it’s sort of expensive. An…investment, if you will.”

He frowns slightly. “Don’t tell me Jarvy’s wife actually talked you into wanting to buy that monstrosity of a beach house.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of you, having almost completely forgotten Tessa’s attempt to expand her real estate portfolio by tempting you with an even bigger sunroom than the one you and Andrei had now.

You shake your head. “No no, I don’t want that house.”

“But you do want a house?” Andrei inquires.

You shake your head, nerves suddenly racing through your veins. It makes your hands shake, so you reach out for him, cupping his jaw with your hand, leaving the other resting in your lap. You thumb over the stubble along his jaw, humming to yourself, trying to gather the right words.

It makes Andrei nervous. “Listen, almaznyy, whatever it is, we-”

“I want this house, Bubby,” you interrupt, wanting to be out with it but also not sure if you were remotely prepared for the rest of his sentence. At the pet name, Andrei’s eyes get brighter, his entire demeanor softening. “I want this house, with you and I in it, and maybe…maybe a little one running around in it, too.”

There. You said it…kind of.

But it was out there now. 

And Andrei…

There’s surprise in his face, definitely, and you’d been expecting that. But there’s also no…opposition. Nothing that says he doesn’t want to have this conversation, nothing that screams disagreement, nothing that says he doesn’t like the idea.

There are nerves there, like yours, but amongst the nerves and surprise is…hope? Something wistful. 

You lean into it, trailing your hand from his face to his arm, then down to the desk where his hand rests beside your legs. You take it, intertwining your fingers, playing with his hand a little.

“Bubby,” you continue. And that time you’re definitely playing dirty, saying one of his favorite pet names like that, like you want something - which you do, no question - and it makes Andrei’s whole body relax. “I want a baby,” you say, this time, plainly, so there’s no question and no doubt. “I want to have a baby with you.” You glance up at him, finding his intense gaze already on you. “What do you think?”

He’s quiet for a moment, and if you didn’t already know your husband, his lack of a response might concern you. But the look on his face tells you that he’s thinking, and so you wait, giving him enough space and time to collect his thoughts.

Finally, he squeezes your hand, a little sigh of relief mixed with a laugh leaving his chest, eyes crinkling at the corners as a brilliant smile takes over his features. He says nothing, just maneuvers you to part your legs so he can haul you off the desk and into his lap. You go to him easily, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his neck, breathing him in. One of his arms bands itself across your waist, the other across your back so he can cradle the back of your head in his hands.

“I didn’t know how to ask you.” He says softly into your ear. “I’ve been thinking about it, too. How to ask…how to tell you…”

“Ya tozhe,” you tell him. Me too. “I didn’t know if it was something you wanted.”

“We never talked about it,” he agrees. “And we should have, and I’m sorry we didn’t.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, malysh. We’re talking about it now, aren’t we?” You say, pressing a small kiss to his jaw.

He tightens his grip on you. “Because you were brave enough to do it. You’ve always been the brave one of the two of us, almaznyy.”

“You were the one who brought us together, Andrei.” You remind him, “I couldn’t have done that. Only you could have, and you did.”

“I would do it again.” He swears, leaning back a little to press a kiss to your forehead. 

You pull back a little, puckering your lips, and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you softly, gently, and like he has all the time in the world. You love when he kisses you like this, like he’s afraid you’ll break or disappear into thin air. It makes you feel precious, like the very diamond he continues to call you.

“Bubby,” you murmur between kisses, “how many babies do you want?”

There’s a choked noise that bubbles in his throat, so you pull back, looking at him in concern. He reaches for his scotch, but you bat his hand away, handing him the bottle of water he always keeps on his desk instead.

He takes a couple of grateful swigs, and much to his disappointment, you climb off of him and climb back to your perch on his desk, giving him some room to breathe. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. “Didn’t mean to take you by surprise there.”

Andrei shakes his head, putting the closed water bottle down and reaches for his glass, downing the rest of its contents. When it's empty, you take it back from him, putting it on a far enough corner of his desk before reaching for your glass, taking down the rest of your margarita, then set the empty glass next to Andrei’s. Once those are out of the way, you lean back on your hands, your attention solely on Andrei once more.

He’s got a little glint in his eye as he considers you, letting one of his hands come up to rest on your legs, caressing your skin. “You know me, almaznyy. I’m not picky.” He starts. “I’ll be satisfied with as many babies as you’re willing to give me.”

You smile, pleased with his answer. In reward, you nudge the hand he has on your leg a little, and Andrei beams, gently grabbing your calf so he can part your legs, this time, to take in the sight of your bare pussy.

Carefully, you pull up the hem of your dress and push yourself to the edge of his desk, and Andrei takes your ankles, gently placing one on the armrest of his chair, putting the other over his shoulder. He scoots his chair in closer, your leg sliding down his back a little and allowing his hands to rest on your hips.

“We should…” he starts, swallowing. “We should probably talk about this a little more.”

You smirk. “We are talking, though.”

“In depth,” he clarifies. “Get into specifics, and things.”

But even as he says it, you can see in his face you probably wouldn’t get further than the next five minutes. “We can still talk about it after, too, okay? We’ll sit and have a real conversation about it.”

He blinks, nodding, then glances down at where you know he wants to bury his face.

“If you wanted a baby, almaznyy,” he says, warm breath fanning over your lower abdomen, “you didn’t have to play dirty.”

“Dirty?” You ask, innocent as ever. “What do you mean?”

Andrei narrows his eyes at you. “The first time you walked into this office on a mission, you were dressed just like this.”

“You mean when I used to be your assistant?” You tease, and he pinches your thigh playfully.

“Moya zhena,” he warns. He may be playful, but it seems you’ve pushed a few too many buttons in that area today.

Shame, you think. Maybe I can try again after dinner. 

You roll your eyes playfully, pouting a little. “I was nervous and needed some confidence, alright?”

“You look plenty confident to me,” he reassures you with a slight nod, then he’s bunching up the fabric of your dress and pressing against your stomach, his nice way of saying ‘lay back moya zhena, let me take care of you.’

The first swipe of his tongue in your folds takes you by surprise, a pleasant squeal leaving your lips and echoing around his office. His second taste of you is slower, his tongue laying flat against you and dragging from your entrance to your clit, his lips circling around the bud and sucking in a way that elicits a pleasant moan from you.

Andrei’s hands crawl up your body to the neckline of your dress, and you help him a little, slipping the straps off so he can pull the neckline down, cupping your tits in his hands and squeezing.

He’d been particularly fond of the first time you’d had sex in this house together. Had cherished the memory of you in that light pink sundress and on this desk in a similar fashion. It was probably why you’d chosen to approach him this way, he thinks absentmindedly, lips and mouth settling into the familiar pace you love when he’s got his face between your thighs.

Andrei can feel his pants get a little tighter the wetter you get, his chin coated in your slick and nose nudging against your clit as his lips and tongue work you open. He’s so perfectly at peace here, totally content to just lick at you and taste you for hours at a time that he nearly forgets why you’re sprawled out on his desk like this.

You tugging at his hair serves as a gentle reminder that kicks him into gear, and he smiles against your skin, pressing kisses to the junction of your thighs and nipping at you a little.

“Andrei,” you say, breathless. “Potoropites', pozhaluysta.” Hurry up, please.

He shakes his head, gently letting your legs fall to the side as he sits up in his chair, draping his body over yours. “Not this time, almaznyy,” he says, wrapping your arms around his neck before he wraps his own arms around your back, cupping your ass in his hands.

Your brain kicks into gear just in time for you to wrap your legs around his waist, and then he’s lifting you up, pressing filthy open mouth kisses to your neck as he navigates the hallway carefully, taking the measured and familiar steps to your bedroom.

He lays you gently on the mattress, placing you delicately among the pillows before he’s shedding his shirt and pants, kicking his boxer briefs off to the side and then settling back between your legs.

This time, your thighs squeeze at his head when he sucks your pussy into his mouth particularly hard, tongue dipping inside of you, and your fingers fly into his hair, scratching at his scalp in warning.

“Behave, moy muzh.” you hiss through gritted teeth, even if the way you writhe against his face tells him you like it. 

“You started it,” he reminds you, tugging on the dress resting around your middle. You huff, grabbing the bottom and peeling it off, tossing it in the direction of Andrei’s pile of clothes. 

Your eyes sparkle with mischief when you watch the way he takes in the sight of your naked body. No matter how many times the two of you do this, Andrei always looks at you the same way.

Like he’s in love, like it’s the first time, like for all he wants to take you apart, the way he’ll put you back together will be well worth it, and if it isn’t, he’ll work for it until it is.

“Pridi ko mne, lyubov' moya,” you beckon him. Come to me, my love.

His bottom lip drags against your clit as he rises from his position, tongue darting out to lick at your arousal still coating his lips, and the sight alone licks at the flame of arousal sparking low in your belly.

When he crawls up your body to kiss you, he props himself up on his arms, not wanting to rest his full weight on you, his delicate little almaznyy. Normally, you love it, but right now, you need something a little different. 

Your arms wrap around his neck as you seize his mouth in a bruising, desperate kiss, pulling him down to you and taking him by surprise as you manage to flip him onto his back on the way down. You take full advantage of his surprise by making your way down his body to settle between his legs, wrapping your fist around his cock and taking him into your mouth.

Andrei groans, sitting up on his elbows to watch you.

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to make a baby if you keep doing that,” he warns, cock throbbing against your tongue as if to emphasize his point. 

You bat your eyelashes at him, sucking at the head of his cock and using your hands to stroke at him at the same time. He hisses, one of his hands flying to rest in your hair, the other resting behind his head and emphasizing the chiseled muscles of his arms, chest, and abdomen.

Sometimes, you couldn’t believe this man was your husband.

“Almaznyy,” he warns when you take him down your throat, swallowing around him. You’re slow to come off his cock, letting him leave your lips with a dramatic ‘pop.’

“I’m still on birth control,” you tell him. “So we can’t make a baby tonight anyway, probably not for another month, at least.”

His brows furrow, both from your statement and the way you twist your wrist, stroking his cock the way you know he likes. “Then what - ah yebat’ - what are we doing?” He asks, trying to focus on the conversation as you take him back in your throat. You hum a little, and he tugs on the strands of your hair again in warning.

You pull off of him, gently stroking your hand up and down, squeezing as you go. “Practicing, of course.”

He lets his arms fall out beside him, collapsing against the pillows and dragging his hands over his eyes. “Almaznyy,” he huffs, hips stuttering when you squeeze him at the base.

“Hmm?” You hum, ready to take him in your mouth again, but Andrei moves quickly, hauling you up his body and cradling you close as he flips you over again. He positions you among the pillows, placing one under your waist so you’re practically propped up for him. He positions himself so his arms rest in the crook of your knees, your ankles near his head as he folds his body over yours.

He takes his cock in his hand, running the head through your folds. “Practice?” 

You nod, “Practice, for now.” You reach out, pushing his hand out of the way so you can line his cock up with your entrance. “Which is why the desk was perfectly good, and-”

The rest of your words are stolen from you when Andrei bats your hand away gently and slides inside of you, slow but precise, bottoming out and nestling his body close to yours. Your eyes flutter shut when you squeeze around him, and his hands come up, cradling the sides of your face as he murmurs encouraging words to you, staying still until you’ve adjusted to his size.

“Almaznyy,” he calls, and your eyes blink open, glazed over and hazy and you’ve barely even started. “Good?”

You nod, tilting your hips a little, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. He laughs a little, shaking his head. “So damn impatient.” 

He raises his body off of yours a little, angling his hips and setting a steady pace, one that has you whining in protest almost immediately, grabbing at the muscles of his ass and trying to drag him closer.

“I won’t break Andrei-” you start, but he cuts you off with a particularly hard thrust that has your eyes rolling back into your head.

“I don’t care if it’s just practice, almaznyy.” He tells you, “and I don’t care how many times we have to practice. I’m going to make it last, and I’m going to make sure that you remember all the ways I fuck you and make love to you until I put a baby in you.”

You gasp a little, and Andrei smiles to himself, thoroughly pleased. He sits up, placing his hands on the backs of your thighs and settling in to fuck you just the way you like. He fucks you in deep, strong strokes, the head of his cock brushing up against that sensitive spot in your pussy every single time.

It steals your breath from you, and all the telltale signs of an orgasm approaching signal to Andrei like a beacon. The way your breathing catches in your throat, the way you can’t keep your eyes open, how your legs start to shake.

He takes his thumb and rests it on your clit, rubbing in lazy circles until your back arches off the bed, a satisfied cry echoing out of your throat and into the pillows beside your head when you come. Your pussy squeezes down in a way that makes Andrei’s head go dizzy, and then he’s coming with a groan, pushing your hips down onto him as he buries himself to the hilt, his orgasm sudden and a shock to his system.

It takes him a second to catch his breath, and moves your legs off of his shoulders to make it easier to pull out of you and give you reprieve, but a noise of protest leaves your throat, and your ankles lock at the base of his spine. 

He pauses, glancing at you curiously when he notices the look on your face.

Andrei thinks back to before you left for San Jose, the day he took you in the shower, and how upset you’d been when he set you down on your feet.

It clicks in his head, then. What you’d been upset about.

He’s still hard - he’s practically always hard when he’s around you - so he moves his hips, slowly pulling back an inch before pushing back inside. You throw your head back, his name leaving your lips in relief, and he smirks. 

Fucking you in shallow thrusts, thumb circling your clit, Andrei watches in fascination as he pushes his come back inside of you with his cock, watches the way your pretty face twists in pleasure, and hums satisfactorily to himself. 

“Is this what you’ve been needing, moya zhena?” He asks, eyes on yours the whole time. “How long have you wanted this?”

You can barely answer him, your head thrown back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowed, back still arched and pushing those beautiful tits of yours up. Andrei takes them in his hands, massaging them, and you keen, pushing into his hands and pussy trying to retreat from his cock with nowhere to go.

The sensation feels different for him. He’s hypersensitive now, all too away of the slick slide of his cock, of your mixed come leaking out of you before he pushes back in, feels heat begin to prick at his skin when your pussy continues to flutter and squeeze, like it’s trying to keep him inside of you. With every brush of his finger over your nipples, your pussy squeezes and you try to pull off of him, but in the next breath you’re winding your hips, pushing back down until he’s buried to the hilt.

Andrei pushes your legs up again before he rests his weight on you gently, his shoulders under your knees, burying his face in your neck and placing his hands under your ass, cradling you closer to him as he starts to fuck you in deeper strokes, drowning in the pleased little noises leaving your lips.

“Ty chuvstvuyesh' sebya tak khorosho, dorogaya,” he murmurs against your neck. You feel so good, darling. 

“Andrei,” you finally manage to breathe out, and relief floods through his veins. There were times when you two made love that you got so lost in the pleasure that you couldn’t speak to him, and it worried Andrei to no end. But you always came back to him, always called for him, and the same calm washes over his body, a shiver running up his spine.

Your arms come up, wrapping around his neck and arching your back, giving him more access to you. Andrei hums, pleased, sucking a bruise into your skin while his cock starts to throb from where he’s fucking you, can feel a second orgasm creeping up when he bites down gently, raking his teeth over the sensitive skin and you start to squeeze and clench around him.

“Gonna come again, almaznyy?” He asks, nosing along your jaw. “Want me to come again, too?”

You nod, turning your head and Andrei meets you, slotting your lips together and swallowing your moans down when you shake gently beneath him, back arching and pushing your body closer to his. His eyes squeeze shut, electricity zipping up his spine when your orgasm tips him over the edge and he’s spilling into you again, groaning against your jaw.

His arms come out from under you and he gently eases your legs back down against the bed, massaging the muscles as he does. Instead of resting them against the bed though, you wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles at his lower back, and Andrei laughs. 

Gently, he rolls you both until he’s laying underneath you instead, careful to keep himself nestled inside of you, and he smiles to himself when you do a half cat-like stretch before sprawling across his chest. 

A pleased little exhale greets his ears after a moment, and his hand comes up, rubbing gentle circles in your back. “Made you lunch,” you tell him, voice hoarse. “‘S in the kitchen.”

“Spasibo, almaznyy.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We should go eat it then, it’s probably cold by now.”

“It’s the chicken caesar salad wraps you like.” You say, lips dragging across his chest as you speak. “And I made strawberry lemonade this morning, should be ready by now.”

He nods, tapping your flank gently. “We should get up, malyshka. Get cleaned up.”

You nod, but you’ve got that look in your eye like before, like you’re disappointed as you carefully lift yourself off of him and roll onto the mattress beside him. Andrei rolls onto his side, cradling your face in his hands. “What’s wrong, moya zhena?” 

You shake your head, a small smile gracing your lips. “Nothing’s wrong, just…excited, is all.”

“Excited?”

“To start a family with you,” you clarify. 

“Then why do you look so sad?” He wonders, thumbing at the pout in your bottom lip.

You laugh, nose scrunching a little before cuddling into him. “It’s silly - I just wanted to start now.”

“It’s only a month, right?” He asks. You nod, nose rubbing at his pec, and he smiles to himself. “That’s good - plenty of time for us to practice, then? Wanna make sure we get it right on the first try.”

You snort. “Perfektsionist.” Perfectionist.

“Only the best for you, moya zhena.” Andrei says, teasing. Underneath it though, you both know that he’s serious. Because if anything, even as he rises from the bed and lifts you in his arms, carrying you into the bathroom, you know he never does anything half assed. 

Now that you’re both on the same page, he’s going to do everything he can to ensure you’re well looked after from beginning to end, and when your little baby eventually comes, he’s going to work twice as hard to make sure the both of you are taken care of, and that you’ll want for nothing.

You, his almaznyy, and your future child, his malen'kaya rubin. His little ruby.