#wasting your time sending me asks that ill just find amusing

[animentality]

Nice try at a roast, kid. People actually like my writing though. I got three r/nosleep stories on the front page. What is you got? A book nobody wants to read? Kek you wokies are delusional. By the frickin way... my pronouns are fuck/you so don't misgender me!

oh my god guys, i've never gotten an ask that reeked so strongly of reddit

i could smell this guy coming from 2000 miles away.

a good thing too, because i sure am terrified of reddit toughguys. gotta pack my bags and get my things, or else he might give me a lecture on how minorities such as Women in video games signal the end of civilization as we know it.

he might Just Tell Me How It Is, or say Facts Don't Care About My Feelings, or even call me a Kid again. How will I ever recover?

[hyunniesgirl]

I wanna be yours

Pairing: Bangchan x fem!reader

Summary: it was all a game to him, until all he could think about was you. He wanted to have all of you. Ruin all of you. Love all of you.

Or, the one where Chan is a cocky asshole who's going out with you just for fun and ends up falling in love.

Slightly inspired in the movie 10 things I hate about you.

Genres: angst, smut, fluff

Words count: 10,991

Masterlist

This content is +18 ONLY, minors do NOT interact!

Warnings: Corruption kink(kinda), dry humping, fingering, blowjob, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, pet names(princess, baby), Chan is cocky as fuck(and I'm here for it, stan cocky Bangchan), reader gets kinda insecure close to the end(let me know if I missed something)

A/N: should I be answering my requests or updating my series? Yes, did I spend too much time in a super long self indulgent oneshot? I did. It was supposed to be just smut with corruption kink 😭 turns out I can't write the porn without the plot.

It all started as a game for him. He just didn't guess how much you would mess with his head.

Bang Chan doesn't care much about college, with a promising career in music, he's just attending classes so his parents won't nag him too much.

That means he's bored all the time.

So when Jeongin, his youngest friend, begged him to win his girlfriend's sister over and date her for a bit, he almost accepted right away, yearning for some fun. But he didn't, not before knowing who you were.

That's how he ended up here, trying to find you in the middle of communication class. He didn't need to look too much, from Jeongin’s description, he could find you in the blink of an eye.

“A pretty girl, probably wearing black or some neutral color and she'll probably be in a corner. She's very shy, when you speak to her don't be too straightforward, you may scare her”

The way Jeongin described you didn't show any ill intent and he was always a good guy, that's why Chan considered accepting his offer in the first place. He must have his reasons for almost kneeling in front of his friend, asking for him to date you.

Chan sits behind you, observing every movement you make. You're indeed pretty and you really are shy. He notices how you want to raise your hand every time the professor asks a question, but you always hesitate and someone speaks over you. Every time you try to speak, some rude person cuts you and instead of getting mad, your face turns red and you shrink in your seat, trying to make yourself even more invisible.

There's something about you, Chan can't tell what it is, but it's something amusing about how you behave. Someone like you could have every guy in this university wrapped around your little finger and every girl wanting to be your friend.

As soon as the class ends, Chan sends a text to Jeongin, telling him he will do it. He doesn't waste time, waiting for everyone to get out of the classroom while you're still collecting your things.

“Hey”, he says out of nowhere, making you jump and look at him with huge doe eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you”.

He kinda did want that, though, curious to see how you would react, he thought maybe you would raise your voice and curse him, but you reacted as calmly as possible.

“It's okay”, you mumble.

You keep organizing your things, trying to ignore his presence.

“So, I wanted to ask if you can let me borrow your notes”, he asks, making puppy eyes.

You turn back to him and Chan can almost see the gears turning inside your head.

“Why does he want my notes if he just attended the same class?” It's written all over your face.

“I pulled an all nighter studying for another class and kind of dozed off earlier”, he lies, smiling sheepishly while scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him for a bit, pondering if you should say yes, actually, let's be real: can you even say no?

This is Bang Chan, handsome and popular, everyone knows him and the other two guys from 3racha. The last you heard, he didn't care much about classes since he's already progressing in his music career so you still don't understand why he wants to borrow your notes.

“Yeah, okay”, you nod, deciding to agree so this conversation can be over soon. You pull your notebook out of your bag and hand it to him. “Just make sure to give it back by next class”

“Sure, thanks”, he gives you a big bright smile that makes you gulp while staring at him, just a few minutes in his presence and you already know something very important: this man is dangerous.

You look around awkwardly, not knowing what Chan wants more. He's just standing there, staring at you.

“I'll get going then”, you sigh, feeling exhausted by this whole interaction.

You turn around, walking to the door, leaving Chan there, dumbstruck. Jeongin was right, you have no social skills, but you're much more entertaining than he made you out to be.

—

You're having lunch with Yuna, your sister, and Jeongin, her boyfriend, in the cafeteria. You like spending time with them, they are probably the only people you feel comfortable around in this university.

You met Jeongin three months ago. Your sister came home giggling like a child on Christmas, sat on your bed and told you she got a boyfriend.

You ran to your door, closing it after checking that your parents weren't around. There's only one rule in the house: your younger sister must not date before you do.

Your parents are not conservative or anything like that, they just had you two later than other parents, so they are very overprotective. You don't know exactly the reason why they set this rule, maybe it's because they are sure you're never going to date.

Yuna is your best friend, she was a sickly child so all those interactions and fights that normal sisters have, you didn't. You spent most of her childhood and a huge part of yours by her side in the hospital. Fortunately, she was able to go back to a normal life by the time she was becoming a teenager, she was always a social butterfly even in the hospital everyone loved her.

You always thought it was unfair that she had to wait to have a boyfriend simply because you are not interesting enough or can't even hold a conversation properly without stuttering, but there was nothing you could do about it. You even tried arguing with your parents about it but it always ended with them telling you to forget about it.

You see Jeongin waving to someone, something is off, they never invite anyone to eat with them. A tray is settled by your side and you look at the person who sits in the seat next to yours: Bang Chan.

“Hello again”, he smiles at you, a handsome smile with dimples showing and everything. He greets the others after.

You look at Yuna and Jeongin, she is frowning just like you and her boyfriend is eating like this is an ordinary situation in your daily lunch.

“Hi”, you sister answers, “I don't think we met before”

“Oh, yeah, I'm Bang Chan!” He stretches his hand so she can shake it. “Jeongin is an old friend and I have communication class with y/n”

“Ah”, she nods, looking at her boyfriend. You stay in silence, playing with your food, waiting for Jeongin to send Bang Chan away.

“Babe, I forgot I have a project due tonight”, Jeongin says, slapping the palm of his hand on his forehead. He stands up, “can you help me? Chan will keep y/n company.”

No. You don't want him to keep you company. Your eyes widen and you stare at your sister, trying to send her a mental signal so she won't let you alone with him.

What you don't see, it's that she has already caught up on the way Bang Chan is looking at you and she might think she understands what's happening.

“Okay, yeah. Take care of her”, your sister says, smiling apologetically to you while she gets up and follows Jeongin out of your sight.

You should just throw your food away and go to the library, maybe you can eat a sandwich.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” You hear Bang Chan's voice before you can put your plan into practice, turning around to look at him with the most terrified face he ever saw on someone. “Ouch, does the idea scare you so much?” He jokes.

“Why would you want to go on a date with me? We just met yesterday”, you point out, holding yourself back so you won't just stand up and run away.

“I find you interesting, it's just a date so we can get to know each other better”, he shrugs. He's so nonchalant about it, while you're freaking out inside.

“I don't think that's a good idea, I'm not good at keeping conversations, you'll get bored”, you say frantically. You just didn't expect him to laugh.

“I can do all the talking, I love to talk"

Chan knows this move is risky and there's a high probability you won't accept, but he just felt like asking you at that moment.

“Are you sure you won't get bored?” You ask.

His eyes widen and he nods, are you really considering it?

You are, obviously. You bet no one could ever guess, but Bang Chan is your ideal type, actually he is probably everyone's ideal type.

He has the kindest smile you have ever seen and the way his eyes turn into crescents when he's smiling makes your legs weak. He met you yesterday, but you know him since 3racha performed in the university’s festival last year. Since the first time you two crossed paths, everything about him, appearance wise, seemed appealing: his dark eyes, his smile, his dark curls, his broad shoulders and his muscular body. That's why you freaked out so much when he spoke to you yesterday, you never thought he would give you the time of day. So you would be dumb to reject his offer.

“Okay”, you nod, handing your phone to him. “You can put your number there, I'll text you so you can save my contact”, you say and he stares at the device for a few moments before picking it up and typing his number.

This was easier than he thought.

—

“Do you have pepper spray with you?” Your mother asks for the 30th time in the last hour.

“Yes, mom. I'm going on a date with another student, he's not a criminal”, you tell her and your father tsks.

“There are alot of students that commit crimes”, he says.

“I know”, you sigh, “don't worry, I have pepper spray, emergency numbers and I'll turn on my localization”

Your sister is watching the scene unfolding in front of her, while she chuckles.

“You shouldn't laugh, if I start dating you will go through the same thing when it's your time”, you whisper at her and she sighs.

“You're not going to this date just so I can officially date Jeongin, right?”

You grin.

“You think too highly of me, I'm not that selfless”, you hear the sound of a horn in front of your house, “I'm going on this date because he's hot”

Chan thought you were pretty in your everyday clothes but after seeing you ready for your date he just couldn't take his eyes off you. You're wearing a little sundress with thin straps holding your much too generous and low cleavage. Your hair is down and your lips are red with lipstick.

He's waiting for you outside of the car so he can open the door for you, but when you stop in front of him, he just doesn't move.

You frown, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Are you okay?” You ask and he snaps out of his daze.

“Yeah, you're just too pretty”, he tells you honestly, “I just couldn't believe I'm so lucky”

You feel your skin hotter, you're sure your whole face must be red like a tomato.

The restaurant you are going to have dinner at is a bit further than you thought, it takes at least one hour by car to get there.

“Were all the places close to the city closed?” You try making a joke and he smiles.

“Considering your personality, I thought you would like this place better”, he tells you while you go in. A person greets you two, leading you inside. There's no open space, the building is full of rooms and you're guided to one of those. There's a glass wall in the back of the room with a view to a lake and a waterfall, there's colorful lights everywhere, making it even more beautiful.

“So, when I was searching for a nice place to go on a date, I came across this one.” Chan starts speaking and you notice there's a small stove on top of the table. “There's no attendants, so we will cook our own food and only call them if we want more servings”, he explains, pulling the chair so you can sit.

“Oh”, you feel a weird feeling on your stomach, are these the butterflies your sister told you about? You never knew something like this existed and the fact that he was attentive enough to take your shyness into consideration while choosing the place of your date makes you melt inside. “Thank you”, you tell him after sitting.

You don't shut up the whole night. This is the first time you feel so comfortable with someone other than your family.

“So, you want to work with entertainment?” He asks surprised.

“Yes, I really like the whole thing about managing an artist, it sound exciting”, you smile happily, “who knows, maybe one day I can manage 3racha”

“You have heard 3racha?” Chan asks, surprised.

“I really like your music”, you tell him, “besides, everyone knows about you guys”

“Yeah, but I didn't know you knew about us”, he smiles charmingly, leaning on the table while clasping his hands. “So does that win me some points? Maybe a kiss?”

You already are red because of the wine, now you feel your whole face hot. You're already feeling a bit out of it, not drunk enough to make a bad decision but definitely drunk enough to lose a bit of your shyness.

“I don't know how to kiss”, you say simply, no further explanation.

Chan almost chokes on the air he just breathed, he didn't think you would be so blunt about it. Curiously, he finds your innocent face while saying that too enticing.

“I can help you with that”, he says, tilting his head and winking.

“Would you really?” You ask and he nods. “Like now?”

Chan didn't expect that to happen so soon, especially with someone as shy as you. But he won't refuse your offer.

“Are you done?” He asks, eagerly, standing up and you nod. Chan stretches his hand to you, waiting for you to hold it.

He takes you to his car, helping you get in and fastening your seatbelt. He's not in his right mind, not at all, he didn't even drink so why is he so excited? He doesn't think he ever felt this way about a kiss. He drives for a while, looking for the drive in movie theater he had read about while looking for the restaurant.

After fifteen minutes he parks his car behind others, there are a lot of people there to watch the movie.

You have your hands on your lap, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. It's so endearing how innocent you are.

“Would you like to take a seat?” He asks and you frown, looking around and then looking at him. You are already seated.

He tilts his head, chuckling and patting his lap. You nod so fast, it's embarrassing. He smiles, seeing you climb on top of him, legs are over the cup holder, you're using him as a literal seat.

“You never kissed anyone?” He asks, while you adjust yourself on top of him, his breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps rise all over your body. You shake your head, feeling a bit insecure, what if you are no good?

Chan bites on his lower lip, shifting a bit so you won't feel his hardening cock under you, you're just too cute, too sexy.

“Okay, I'll go slowly, we can stop anytime you want”, he tells you, brushing his hand on your arm all the way to your neck, making you close your eyes to his touch. He pulls your face closer, touching your lips with his, it's warm and soft, it feels like heaven.

He brings his other hand to your cheek, caressing. He pulls back a bit, just enough so he can speak.

“Open your mouth for me, baby”, he tells you and you obey instantly, feeling his lips back on yours. His tongue brushes against yours and you whine, lifting your hands to grab on his shoulders to steady yourself, causing your ass to rub on his cock. Chan groans, making you flinch, did you do something wrong?

He notices your hesitancy, so he slides his hand to your waist, squeezing you in reassurance.

“Are you sure you have never done this?” He asks playfully and you smile, shyly.

“Can- Can we do it again?” You whisper, making him chuckle. Dear god, would he be able to stop this with just kisses?

“Did you like kissing me, princess?” He teases, seeing you blush. Chan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. He lands a kiss on your exposed collarbone, tracing kisses up to your neck.

“You smell so good”, he tells you before leaving a kiss on your jaw, then on your chin and finally a peck on your lips.

“Must taste even better”, he thinks, smiling to himself.

Your phone starts ringing, taking you two out of that hazy atmosphere. You feel embarrassed now, not believing you actually acted that way. Going back to your seat, you pick up the call, it's Yuna.

“Mom and dad are freaking out because you stopped moving for too long”, she whispers. Shit, you forgot your localization was turned.

“Tell them you called Chan and I'm alright, my phone just died”, you instruct her.

“Yeah, got it, just hurry”

Chan probably heard the conversation, but you still feel upset that he started the car right away and drove fast back to your home.

When you arrive in front of your house, you're not sure if you should kiss him goodnight or just wave, both are awkward options for you, so you go with the one you want the most.

You grab his arm and pull him closer to you, kissing him on the lips. Chan is quite surprised with your bold action, but he won't complain, he can't get enough of your lips.

“I will text you when I get home”, he says after pulling away and you nod.

You get out of the car and walk to your door, stealing glances at Chan. He's giggling at your antics, watching until you are safe inside your house.

He should be thankful to Jeongin, he's finally having a good time.

—

Chan is taking his mission seriously, he's texting you everyday and even stopped seeing all his fuck buddies. This is the closest he ever got to a relationship, but you're not official yet.

Especially not when you're avoiding him like the plague when it comes to meeting face to face. You answer his texts normally but he has to literally hunt you down so he can find you in this damn university and if you see him before he sees you, it's game over, you'll hide immediately and he has to begin his search all over again.

This time, though, he caught you off guard. You are at the library, seated alone, trying to focus on the book you have in your hands.

He smiles to himself, knowing you can't escape anymore. Chan leans over, caging your body with his two hands around you, gripping the table.

“I missed you, baby”, he whispers and you shiver, feeling butterflies on your stomach.

“H-hi”, you say, closing your book and taking a deep breath.

You will not try and pretend you didn't hide from him for almost a week. But that's not your fault, it's your brain's.

After Chan left you home, you ran to your room, still feeling all tingly and hot from kissing him. Since Yuna didn't come to your room you guessed she was already asleep, so you took your makeup off, took a long bath and snuggled in your nice sheets.

The thing is: you had the most lewd, filthy, awfully good dream that night. You could never even say the things Chan did to you in that dream out loud.

You woke up sweaty, heavy breathing and panties soaked, this never happened to you before.

You just couldn't look at his face after that, you felt dirty and guilty with having those thoughts about such a nice guy.

“Am I wrong or were you avoiding me?” He asks, not moving from behind you.

“No- I wasn't”, you turn around to look at him, bumping into his face too close from yours. He glances at your lips, biting his lower one and chuckles. “I was just, hm, kinda embarrassed”, you tell him, aware that he's going to know right away if you try lying.

“Embarrassed about what?” He asks, tilting his head.

“I don't know”, you look away, trying not to give in and tell him about your dream.

“I think you should come to my place so we can talk about it”, he says and you choke on your own spit, struggling to function correctly. Did he just ask you to go to his house? Just you? And him? Just the two of you?

The apartment is not far from the campus, it's a maximum twenty minutes walk. The building is nice and modern, it absolutely matches what you had imagined Chan’s place would look like.

His apartment is huge, it's not possible that he lives there alone.

“I have three roommates, Jisung and Changbin you already know and Hyunjin, he's an arts major”

“Hwang Hyunjin? I know him, he's friends with my sister”, Chan nods, he forgot your sister dates Jeongin, she probably knows his entire group of friends.

“Do you want to drink something?” He asks, looking at you while you walk around the living room, looking at every corner but not at him.

“Water is fine”, you say, looking at some pictures he has with his friends. He always has that breathtaking smile that makes all your insides turn around.

“What about watching a movie?” He asks out of nowhere, sitting on the sofa. He looks at you, an arm resting on the back of the sofa.

“Sure”, you walk to him, sitting on the far corner. Chan has to bite back a laugh so you won't feel embarrassed, do you really think it's so easy for you to get away from him?

He turns on the movie, adjusting himself on his seat. You're really trying to pay attention to what's going on on the screen, but you just can't. Not when Chan's scent is all over the place, making you remember about your dirty dream.

He knows you're restless, he can see you fidgeting by his peripheral vision.

“Are you uncomfortable?” He asks, turning his head towards you, with a smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe you can sit here again, I'm sure you are going to like it better”, he pats on his lap.

You feel your face red.

“Stop teasing”, you mumble, pouting, “that's not nice”

He chuckles. If you're not coming to him, he has no problem going to you, so Chan slides his body closer, making you stare at him with a frown.

He raises his hand to your face, cupping it and caressing your cheek.

“Tell me you don't want this, princess, I'll stop”, he says. But you want this more than anything in the world, how could you not?

You lean a bit, trying to close the gap between your mouths. Oh, how much Chan missed your soft lips, he felt almost like going through a withdrawal staying so long without kissing you.

You learn fast, your mouth opens right away after your lips touch. In a bold move, your tongue is the one to look for his first, making him groan. He puts his right hand on your thigh, squeezing it harder than he predicted, but he didn't predict the bite you would give on his lip at that exact moment.

Chan grabs your hip, pulling you up to his lap, this time with a leg on each side of him. You're looking at him in that innocent way when all he has on his mind are the dirtiest thoughts. He caresses your thigh, sliding his hand to grab your ass and pulling you closer to him.

“Will you tell me now, why you were embarrassed? You looked pretty fine when I left you home after our date”, he asks and you blush instantly, oh, you forgot about the reason you are here. You can't tell him about your dream, you'll die of embarrassment if you do.

“It was- nothing”, you lie, avoiding his eyes. Chan noticed this already, you always look anywhere but him when you are lying to him.

Maybe he'll have to make you tell the truth.

“Really?” He says, skeptical. “Then you were just being mean? Playing with my feelings after just one date?” He's teasing, he knows you'll give in eventually, it's just a question of time.

“No, I wasn't”, you argue, with a frown on your face, your lips shut tight in a pout.

“Baby”, he calls, your legs would definitely give out if he called you like that while you were standing. “I don't like liars”

Chan slides his hands up to your ass, grabbing a handful and pulling you closer. You can already feel something hard beneath you, making you shift and adjust on his lap, involuntarily seeking some friction. Your core is aching, just by staying so close to him.

“I'm not lying, that's mean”, you try changing the subject and he chuckles.

Chan comes closer, lips brushing against yours, his breathing hitting on your mouth, everything just making the wet spot on your panties grow bigger and bigger. He kisses you, a nice and soft kiss with his tongue caressing yours gently.

Chan notices that you're moving your hips slightly, trying to feel his cock. He smiles during the kiss, pulling away while putting his hands on your hips, guiding your movements to be harder.

“Hm”, you whine, feeling his hard on giving you the friction you're looking for. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer into a kiss again.

You never felt this way, like ever. You did masturbate but it's different to do it with another person. It's just so good to feel Chan's touch on your skin, his breathing, his muscular arms holding you. You feel your orgasm coming, you can't believe you're going to cum by just rubbing yourself on this man.

Chan knows you're almost there, that's when he grabs your hips steadying you, not letting you move further. He earns a whine from you, an angry look on your face.

“I will only let you keep going if you tell me why you were embarrassed and avoided me”, he says cockyly and you shake your head, trying to move again but his grip on your hips is too strong.

“I don't wanna”, you tell him.

“Then, I guess you won't be cumming today”, he shrugs. “At least, not with me”, he smirks to your face becoming even redder.

“You're such a meanie”, you whine, pouting, still trying to move again but he just won't let you.

“Are you going to tell me what I want to know?” He tilts his head.

You ponder for a moment, what should you do? It's not going to end here, if you don't tell him right now, you're sure he won't let it go.

“I- I had a dream”, you start, trying to gather some courage.

“Uhm”, he nods, “what about it?” He asks curiously, feeling strangely aroused by the way you're looking around, lips pulled into a line and the way you're speaking leads him to believe you're talking about a wet dream.

“Li- like one of those dreams”, so he was right, did you have a wet dream about him? That's interesting.

“Hm, you'll have to be more specific, princess”, he pushes, “I don't think I know what you're talking about”

“I mean”, you groan, dropping your head to his shoulder so you won't feel his eyes on you. “A sex dream… with you”, you whisper.

The grin on Chan's face after you finish saying that, is priceless. He can feel his cock twitching, he's eager to know more.

“Tell me more about it”, he presses, “I really wanna know what happened in that dream that left you so embarrassed”

“Please, Chan. Don't make me say it”, you beg, but he's not having it. He likes seeing you blushing and struggling to talk dirty, it's endearing.

“No can do”, he grabs your shoulder to pull you away so he can look at your face. “I promise I'll give a nice reward if you tell me”

You nod. If he won't drop it, then you have to try and earn something over your embarrassing situation.

“I- like- you ate me out”, you start and he smiles, he would indeed love to do that. “And I s-sucked you off, it was nice”, you stumble over your words in each sentence. Chan can only feel even more turned on, your lips are so soft, he can't even picture what it would feel like to have them wrapped around him.

“Keep going, princess. You're doing great”, he reassures you. Chan loosens the grip on your hips, guiding your movements back and forth once again.

“And you said all these dirty things to me, I can't say it out loud, please”, he smirks, pulling you even closer and pressing your covered core against his cock.

“Did I tell you how good it felt to have your pretty little mouth sucking on my cock?” He asks playfully and you nod, feeling the warmth creeping in your face again while that tingly sensation grows bigger in your lower stomach.

“Did we fuck?” He asks, feeling himself getting closer to cum too.

“Yeah”, you nod frantically with your eyes closed shut. “You fucked me on all fours and in this same position too”, you tell him.

“Oh? Did you ride me? Did you like it?”

“I did”, you struggle to make your voice come out, feeling too light headed to even speak properly.

“There's something more, right, baby?” He feels his cock throbbing, he's almost at his limit.

“Yes, you- you choked me a bit, I liked that”, and that sentence was enough to make Chan reach his orgasm, being followed by you right after.

He can't believe he really did cum in his pants, like a fucking teenager. It's your fault actually, how can someone make him cum like this and still look angelic and innocent? Like you never told him he choked you and you liked it, even though it was a dream.

Chan kisses you eagerly this time, his chest is feeling hot and he feels a weird sensation on his stomach.

“You shouldn't feel embarrassed about this kind of thing”, he tells you and you nod, because it's true, “if it makes you feel better, I'm sure I had worse thoughts about you”, he smiles, seeing you blush.

“Like what?” You ask, curiously.

“Oh, I won't tell you”, he shakes his head, “you would never look at me again if you knew all the dirty things I wanna do to you”

—

Another week went by and now you were not avoiding Chan anymore. He follows you around pretty much all day at school, stealing kisses and pulling you to empty classrooms to have make out sessions.

It's time for him to meet your parents, it's not something he ever did, he never dated anyone after all. It's a Wednesday night, he brought flowers and a bottle of wine. So five minutes before the set time, he's knocking at your door.

Your sister opens up, greeting him but you're nowhere to be found until he hears your voice from upstairs.

“Is he already here?” You sound panicked and your sister giggles.

“Yes! Hurry up”, she says and Chan hears something falling and making a weird noise. It was not loud enough to be a person so he's not worried you fell, but he finds it funny to think about you nervously stumbling around.

When you show up at the top of the stairs, he has to blink a few times to actually believe you're real. You look so beautiful, showing your nice legs in a short skirt and your shoulders in a tank top.

“Hey”, you greet him, looking at the things he has in hands and he finally regains his composure.

“Hi”, he gives you a peck on the lips, “this is for you” he hands you a bouquet of red camellias.

You stop for a second, you never received flowers. Before you can answer him, your father's head is popping out of the living room.

“Why is it taking so long for you to bring this guy inside?”, he asks grumpy, he's not too happy about you dating but there's nothing he can do about it.

Chan straightens himself, walking to your father to greet him.

“Good night, sir. I'm Bang Chan”, he clears his throat when your father doesn't say a thing, just staring at him. “I brought this for you”, he shows the wine bottle and your father takes it.

“At least you have good taste”, he nods to the wine bottle Chan stole from his father's collection.

He turns around, shrugging to you and you smile, listening to your sister's chuckles. You take his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers.

In the living room there's a woman that looks too much like you and your sister to not be your mother, she smiles kindly at you two.

She's less intimidating than your father so Chan's greetings to her are less awkward this time. As time goes by, your parents warm up to him, making jokes and even telling him about your childhood.

“The night went great”, you say while walking Chan to his car. “Thank you for coming”

“Your parents are great”, he says, leaning on the door of his car. He takes your hands in his and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you for inviting me”

He looks so good tonight, his dark hair is carefully styled and he's wearing much more formal clothes than usual, making him look like a prince.

“Can I have a good night’s kiss?” He asks, slyly, seeing you eyeing him up. You nod, putting your hands on his chest and closing the gap between your mouths. Chan's hands slide from your waist to your ass, squeezing slightly, he can't get too into it since he won't be able to go further than a kiss tonight.

You pull away from him when you have to breathe, his lips are so inviting you could kiss him all night long.

“I will see you tomorrow”, he tells you.

There's something wrong with his heart, it's beating so fast he thinks he may be dying. After driving away from you, he calms himself a bit. It's not possible that you were the cause of that reaction, right? This is supposed to be fun, he only has to date you for a while and then break up, no strings attached. So why does he feel such hurt in his chest after thinking about leaving you?

After one more long and sleepless night Chan realized something: he is in love. This feeling snuck in so unexpectedly he didn't even notice he was falling in love. Chan never fell in love before, so he can only guess that this is how it feels to love someone.

He notices every little detail about you, he jokes around all the time waiting to hear you laugh about something he says. Chan likes the way you smell, the way you smile, the way you just look at him so focused while he is speaking. He is in love with your personality, your cleverness, your kindness, your beauty is just a bonus that makes him even more in love with you.

He wants to confess to you, ask you to be his girlfriend, to never leave him.

He even asked for your sister's help to make something for you, maybe a song, he can definitely make something beautiful and romantic for you. Maybe he can cook too, he wants to make you feel appreciated.

He's waiting for your class to finish, seated on the bench in front of the classroom while scrolling through his phone.

He feels someone sitting by his side and before he can look, a kiss lands onto his cheek. Chan puts his hand on his face, blushing and you laugh seeing his reaction. You two did much more than just a kiss on the cheek, why is he embarrassed about it?

“Did you miss me?” You ask him and he rolls his eyes.

“Of course I did”, he grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. “Should we go to my place?” He asks and you nod, standing up, pulling him to get up too.

It's still a bit weird that you two are together, you never thought liking someone as much as you like Chan could actually happen to you, you could even say you're in love. The only thing that still makes you doubtful is the fact that he didn't ask you to be his girlfriend yet, you have been going out for a month and you do everything together, so why hasn't he made it official?

You still have many questions in your mind, sitting on Chan's bed while he makes popcorn and you choose the movie you're watching tonight.

He enters the room, closing the door and turning off the lights, two water bottles and a huge bowl in his hands.

“What movie did you choose?” He asks, but you can't hear it, your mind is too loud. “Y/N? Are you alright?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Are we exclusive?” You ask out of nowhere, ripping the air out of his lungs.

“Yes”, he says firmly, “do you want to be with other people?”

Chan asked that, but he's holding his breath until you answer him, hoping you're going to deny. For a moment, you don't say a thing and seeing you hesitate makes his heart ache.

“No, I-” you try speaking, trying not to sound ridiculous, “I want to be exclusive, I just don't know if you want that”

Chan takes a deep breath, putting the things he has in hands on the nightstand.

“Of course, I want to”, he takes your hand into his, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss the palm. He's feeling guilty, he's taking his time preparing a nice confession but you're feeling insecure. “I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't want things to get more serious”, he climbs on the bed, getting closer to you, “let me show you that you're the only one I want, hum? Can I?”

You suck on your teeth, knowing exactly what is about to happen but you just can't say no to him, let's be real, you don't want to say no to him. So you nod, making him smile.

Chan is eager to have you, he has been for weeks, just waiting for you to be ready to give yourself to him. He cups your face, pulling you closer and kissing you.

He helps you lay down on the bed, towering over you while landing kisses down your neck. You feel him biting on your shoulder and he brings his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up. His hands travel around your body, making you hotter.

“You're so pretty, princess”, he says, kissing your chest. You whine, he's taking too much time to get to the place you want the most.

“Channie”, you whisper, “please, touch me”, you ask him.

His smile grows bigger as he mumbles “your wish is my command”. Chan unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs, throwing it someplace in the room.

He slides his hand down to your core, your underwear is soaked. He pulls your panties down your legs and brushes a finger along your folds, collecting the wetness before inserting a finger inside, you arch your back to the feeling. It's delicious, but it hurts a bit. It's different from how it feels doing it alone.

“Is this okay?” He asks and you nod. “You're such a good girl, baby, all wet and ready for me.” He whispers, getting closer to your face again. I'm going to put another one”, he tells you. The sensation it's too much already, his fingers are too much.

“Chan”, you moan, “I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that”

“Oh? But I didn't even get to the better part”, he answers pressing his thumb on your clit, making circles.

“Fuck”, you whine.

His smirk grows while he keeps the movement of back and forth inside of you. Before he can tease you more, your legs are shaking and your tight hole is clenching around his fingers. You put your hand on your mouth, covering it so you won't make a loud sound, but he doesn't like that. He wants to hear how well he's fucking you.

“Let's not do that, okay? I want you to be loud, want to hear you scream my name” He says, pulling his fingers out of you and sliding them on his mouth. He comes closer, kissing your neck and face, helping you calm down after your orgasm.

Goosebumps rise all over your body, his kisses feel like fire on your skin, you thought you'd feel less horny after cumming, but you're still so turned on.

Chan kisses your chest, opening your bra. You feel embarrassed when he sees you completely naked.

“You're still dressed”, you point out, face red.

He gets out of the bed immediately, taking his shirt off and his pants too, crawling back to you in only his underwear. His cock is hard, outlined by the thin fabric of his boxers.

You feel the urge to touch him, maybe taste it. So you grab his length, making him groan.

“What are you doing, princess?” He asks, eyes closed from the pleasure of having your beautiful hands wrapped around him.

“I want to make you feel good”, you tell him, pushing his chest and making him fall on his back on the bed. You kiss his neck the same as he was doing to you, suddenly feeling possessive and sucking on the skin, leaving a few hickeys there.

You go down, kissing his chest and stomach, getting closer and closer to his throbbing cock. You pull his underwear down and his cock spring on your face.

“I just- you need to teach me”, you tell him. How can you look at him with such innocence in your eyes when you're about to suck him off?

“Hold the base”, he instructs, “now you can go up and down with your hand.”

 He feels your movements, making him groan. You are bolder than he gives you credit for, since you lick the head of his cock without being told to. You wrap his dick with your mouth, waiting for the next command.

“You can go up and down, princess, yes, like that” he moans, feeling his cock being embraced by your warm mouth.

Chan feels like exploding any time now, weeks of pent-up sexual tension being released. He sees you rubbing yourself on his bed while sucking on him, that just makes him crazier, he wants to make you feel good now, he can let you do the same for him another time.

“Baby”, you hear him say and you stop your movements. “I won't be able to last long with your soft mouth doing that, I need to feel you around my cock”

You nod, letting go of his cock and climbing up, stopping on top of Chan.

“I wanna be on top”, you say confidently.

“Let's do it slowly okay? I don't want to hurt you”, Chan tells you and you agree.

He grabs the base of his cock, brushing the head on your folds, trying to wet it enough to make it easier for you.

It feels like heaven when his cock finally slides inside of you, you're so tight he feels like he can cum at any moment.

Chan sees the pain in your eyes, he doesn't move, “do you want to stop?” He asks worriedly, putting his hands on your hips to stop you from moving but you shake your head.

You keep pushing it in, trying to relax. Chan kisses you, massaging your breasts to help you relax a bit.

When the painful part is gone and you're feeling all the good sensations back, you don't think you can stop, it's too addictive. You start riding on him freely, hands taking support on his chest and head thrown back, the pleasure is just too much, you'll be coming soon.

“Fuck, you look so good riding me, princess”, he says, feeling his own high almost catching him.

“Oh, Channie, I'm gonna cum”, you whine, fastening the movements of your hips, “please, oh, your cock feels so good”

For someone who couldn't talk about a wet dream a few weeks ago you sure talk dirty in real life, Chan chuckles, feeling you clenching around him and when you squeeze his cock for the last time he cums too, filling you up.

You collapse on top of him, breathing heavily. Your eyes are heavy, you're not sure if you can stay awake. Chan caresses your back and plays with your hair, making you fall fast asleep.

You wake up feeling just a bit sore. You're on cloud nine, the night was amazing. When you open your eyes, there's no one in the bed with you. You wrap yourself in the blankets trying to find and collect all your clothes scattered around the room.

The delicious smell that embraces your nose the moment you step out of the room, is enough to make you drool.

Chan is in the kitchen, dressed in nothing but sweatpants and an apron. That's right, he's shirtless. You're feeling bold today, so you get closer to him wrapping your arms around his waist in a back hug.

He lets out a laugh, putting his hand over yours and turning off the stove. He turns around, hugging you.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks, kissing your forehead and you nod, snuggling in his embrace.

“Why didn't you wake me earlier? I woke up missing you”

“Ow, my baby is so needy”, he teases, making you pout. “I was making you, breakfast”

“Hm”, you look at what he was cooking.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, a bit worried, it was your first time after all.

“I'm doing great”, you smile, “just a bit sore, but it's nothing”

He nods, putting his hands on your shoulders and turning you around.

“I'm happy to hear that”, he kisses the top of your head, guiding you to take a seat on the table. “Let's eat so we can go for another round then”, he smirks.

—

“Jeongin is coming here today?” You ask your sister and she nods frantically while fixing her hair.

“He's coming to ask dad's permission to date me”, she giggles excitedly.

“Alright”, you smile seeing your sister so happy.

You're the one opening the door for Jeongin while your sister is getting ready, he's clearly nervous but he's trying to keep his smile.

“Hey!” You give space for him to enter, “Yuna is almost done”

He nods, looking around. Your sister comes down minutes later, leading Jeongin to the living room.

Your father is less hostile to him than he was to Chan, maybe it's because Jeongin is adorable.

After an hour of conversation, you go upstairs, you have a date tonight and need to get ready.

The memories from your night with Chan flood your mind making you giggle and kick your feet, they have been your most cherished thoughts lately. It's a struggle but you finally end your bath after probably an hour.

You walk back to your room, you're already late. However, you stop in front of your sister's room when you hear voices being a little bit too loud.

“You did what, Jeongin?” your sister's voice is a pitch higher than usual.

“I didn't think things would get out of hand”, Jeongin answers, are they fighting?

“In what world did you think that was a good idea?”

“I was desperate, I'm not proud of that”, he answers back.

“There's no excuse for you to ask Bangchan to date my sister”, she tries speaking lower but you still can hear them. Your whole world crumbles with that one sentence, what does she mean by that?

“I didn't do it to be mean, I know how hard it is for your sister to get to meet new people, I thought it would benefit the both of us”, he tries explaining. Your heart is beating too fast, the throbbing in your ears grows stronger and your legs are giving out.

“How am I supposed to tell her now? She is so happy” Yuna cries out. “Don't come any closer, get out of here”, you panic instantly, they can't see you there. But you're too slow, when you finally manage to move Jeongin is swinging the door open. He stops on his tracks, turning white on the spot.

“Y/N-”, he tries to speak, but you run to your room before he can say anything else.

You can't believe this is actually happening to you, you thought that someone finally liked you but everything was a lie? That's not possible, right?

You are going to go to Chan, you two have a date, and he is going to tell you that Jeongin is lying, that he was just joking.

The uber to Chan's apartment doesn't seem to show up fast enough and the ride there couldn't be slower. You're restless, fidgeting with your fingers and shaking your legs.

You pay the man, practically running out of the car and running upstairs. The person who opens the door is not Chan but Changbin, you met him a few times when you were visiting the apartment.

“Hey, y/n”, Changbin greets you. “Chan is not home, but he will be here soon, I heard you have a date”, he says, letting you in.

“I'm going to wait for him in his room”, you tell him, too disturbed to worry about proper manners.

You walk back and forth in the room, anxiously waiting for Chan's arrival. You hear his voice after twenty minutes, he's talking to his friend in the living room when Changbin tells him you're there.

You can hear the fast footsteps leading to where you are, you take a deep breath, trying not to cry.

“Hey, baby”, Chan smiles at you, dropping his bag on the floor and walking towards you with open arms. “Did something happen?” He stops, noticing your face.

You stare at him for a minute, brows knit together and eyes trying to find the least bit of sincerity in the time you two spent together.

“Did you ask me out as a favor to Jeongin?” You ask and his standing falter, how did you find out?

“L-let me explain”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“So you did”, you feel the tears trying to escape from your eyes.

“Please, just… just hear what I have to say”, he asks, trying to hold your hand, but you pull away from him.

“I don't want to hear a thing from you”, you tell him, running your hands through your hair.

It really was all a lie. How could you be so dumb?

You walk past him, trying to get out of the room, go anywhere but there. But Chan grabs your arm, making you stop in your tracks.

“Please, don't leave”, he begs. You feel a pang in your chest, but it doesn't make a difference since you're already hurting too much.

“You have no right to ask me that”, you pull your arm out of his grasp and walk out of the apartment.

It would be too humiliating to enter the uber while bawling your eyes out, so you decide to walk. You walk for a long time before your feet start hurting and your eyes are burning from how much you cried. You can't believe you really let yourself fall pray to such a scheme, you thought you were smarter than that.

It's obvious you only fell for it because it's Chan, you were attracted to him since the first time you laid eyes on him. You try to believe that it wouldn't be that easy to trick you if it was anyone else.

After at least two hours, you finally reach your house and you're feeling utterly miserable. You greet your parents and walk upstairs, anxiously searching for your room so you can finally let yourself fall and cry as much as you can.

Your sister is seated on your bed, biting on her nails. She stands up as soon as she sees you.

“I'm really sorry”, she says, teary.

You sigh, feeling the weight on your chest even heavier.

“It's not your fault”, you tell her. You start to undress, looking for your pajamas so you can snuggle on your bed until all of this passes.

“I shouldn't have started dating before you”, she whines.

“I don't blame you, so stop doing that to yourself”, you say, even though you feel a bit of resentment because Jeongin likes her truly, he likes her because she's her. Of course no one's going to like you, you're… you.

“But”, she bites on her lower lip, not sure if she should say this, “I think Chan really likes you-”, she stops talking when you give her the meanest glare you ever threw in someone's way.

“I don't want to hear it”, you say.

“He even asked help so he could confess to you in a way you would like”, she continues.

“I'm not going to repeat myself”, you say and your sister knows that tone too well, it's better for her to stay silent for the time being. “If you're done, I would like to be alone”

Yuna nods, glancing at you all the way to the door.

You collapse on your bed, finally able to cry your eyes out without people looking at you in a weird way. This is the moment you realize how much you love Bang Chan, the pain you're feeling is greater than anything you ever felt in your whole life, you truly don't think you'll be able to survive this.

Chan is an idiot, he knows this and you are right to never look at his face again. But even though he knows you're right, he can't accept the thought of you leaving him.

He tried calling and texting you, you blocked him. He tried talking to your sister, she cursed him out and told him to leave you alone. She and Jeongin are on bad terms right now but they didn't break up yet.

He tried to find you in the university, but you didn't show up for the entire week, he just doesn't know what to do.

“You are an idiot”, Hyunjin says after listening to the whole story, “you should have told her about it while you still had time”

“I didn't know I was in love”, Chan runs his hands through his hair, “not until it was too late”

His friend sighs, he just can't see Chan like that anymore. He's just miserable, he looks like he's dying and Hyunjin doesn't doubt it could actually happen at this point.

So as a good friend, he takes this matter into his own hands and calls your sister, trying to convince her to listen to Chan and maybe forgive Jeongin too, Hyunjin is tired of him whining all day long.

“Did you really call me here for this?”, Yuna asks, ready to grab her things and go home.

“Hear me out, okay?” He says. “I know what they did was wrong but they regret it, Jeongin even told you about it”

She huffs, crossing her arms.

“He told me because I was talking about how Chan wanted to ask y/n to be his girlfriend”, she says. “He felt guilty, he would have never told me about it otherwise”

“Chan really likes y/n, he really wants to be with her”

Yuna sighs, she knows that. There was no way Chan could fake the way he looked at you.

“She's not going to believe that”, Yuna says, “y/n is heartbroken, she's not even going to her classes. She just stays in her room all day, crying’

“There's nothing better to fix her broken heart then”, Hyunjin points out, “let's help them meet, they can talk things out that way”

“She doesn't want to see him”, Yuna sighs, “but I do think this is the best solution”

“Okay, I'll text you the day and time, just bring y/n, Chan will take care of the rest”

Yuna nods, collecting her things but before she can stand up, Hyunjin's voice sounds again.

“About Jeongin-”, he starts, but she cuts him off right away.

“This whole mess started because of Jeongin”, she takes a deep breath, “after y/n and Chan resolve this matter I'll see what I'm going to do about him”

Yuna turns around, leaving Hyunjin there. At least he got Chan a chance, he can't save everyone.

Chan can't take it anymore, he has to see you. So he musters all the courage he has and goes to your house. It doesn't help that it's 2 a.m. so everyone is sleeping, except you it seems, since there's light coming from your room.

He begins throwing rocks at your window, trying to make you notice him and after a few tries he sees your face popping out.

Chan wishes he didn't come at all, your face is puffy so he knows you have been crying and the way you're looking at him, it's just awful, he feels despicable. More than he has felt all this time without you.

“What do you want?” You ask, at least you didn't ignore him.

“Can you come down for a bit?”

You sigh, you don't actually want to, but you're afraid he'll make too much noise trying to convince you to go down and wake up the neighbors or even worse, your parents.

You close the window, he knew it would be hard, that you wouldn't want to see him. Before he can turn around and walk away, Chan hears the sound of the front door opening.

You are in your pajamas, holding yourself trying to protect your body from the cold air.

You stop in your tracks, looking at him with an intense gaze, like you can read all his thoughts and know about all his mistakes.

“How have you been?” He asks and you scoff.

“Are you here to survey my mood? I have been feeling like shit, what about you?” He remembers the first time he talked to you, how he wished to see you mad, now he regrets that. He never wanted to see you mad at him.

“I'm not well either”, he says.

You sigh.

“Now that we know how each other is feeling, you can go”, you tell him.

“Can you let me explain?” He pleads.

“Did you start dating me as a favor for Jeongin?” You ask and he sighs, nodding. “That's all I need to know, I would appreciate it if you don't come looking for me anymore”, you say, turning around and going back inside. Tears start running down your face while you go back to your room, when will this pain subside?

—

You are finally back at school, after moping around all day at home for an entire week, you decided it was time to get back to your life. Staying at home just made you feel worse, you didn't have a thing to distract yourself so you ended up thinking about Chan the whole time. That only weakened your resolve to forget about him, you avoided coming to school because you knew you would give in if he tried to approach you.

Your day goes by fast enough and you just want to go home to lay on your bed. You feel your phone buzzing, it's a message from Jeongin. You were so angry with Chan that you forgot to block him.

He should be begging to meet Yuna, so why is he asking to meet you? Maybe he wants your help to fix things between them.

You don't know why you decided to meet him, maybe it's curiosity to know why he did such a thing to you or maybe you want to look at his face and curse at him.

He arrives at the cafe at the set time, looking around for you and walking towards you when his eyes lock with yours.

“Hey”, he says, sitting in front of you. You don't say anything back, not in the mood to be polite.

Jeongin sighs, he expected this much.

“I wanted to talk with you about this whole situation, believe me I didn't mean to hurt you even though it ended up happening in the end-”

“I considered you my friend”, you say making him stop talking.

“I- I'm”, he says, voice a pitch higher.

“Friends don't do what you did”, you say and he nods.

“I know it was an ill executed plan, but my intentions weren't bad, I swear”, he tells you.

“And do your intentions matter if I was the one hurt in the end?” You ask, angrier now.

“No”, he answers. “I'm truly sorry, I swear, I just caught you staring at Chan more than once. I thought this would be good for us both but I was clearly wrong”

You huff, exhausted. You start collecting your things to go home but you hear Jeongin's voice once more.

“Chan really likes you, he fell in love with you”, he says and your heart skips a beat, it shouldn't be behaving like this, not after the heartbreak you are going through.

“I don't care, he lost his chance”, you answer firmly, even though you know it's not true.

“Are you sure?” Jeongin asks, “are you sure you won't regret it? Not let him explain or not hearing him out?”

You glance at him once more, before standing up and walking out of the cafe.

Your mid terms are finally over, that means, you don't have anything to study so you're stuck with your thoughts. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, it's a message from Yuna, asking you to meet her in the arts department.

You reply, saying you'll be there in a moment. What is she even doing there? She's a business major.

The arts department is not far from yours, but it's emptier than you are used to. She asked you to meet in the first classroom of the second floor.

When you open the door, the first thing you see is Bang Chan. He looks awful, worse than you even.

You try going back, but he already saw you, so he stands up, coming closer.

“Don't leave, I'll do anything just… don't leave”

He's pale, and the eyebags he normally has are darker than usual.

“Are you sick?” You ask, worried. It's not like you can stop loving him in such a short period of time, of course you're worried.

“No”, he says, “I mean, I'm not feeling well, but I don't think I have an illness”

You nod, feeling awkward. It's been a while since you felt this way about him.

“Okay, then I'll get going”, you say trying to leave, but his voice stops you.

“I love you”, he is desperate, you can hear it in his voice. However, you're too petty.

“This was part of Jeongin’s plan too?”, you scoff, seeing his lips trembling.

He takes a deep breath, he deserves that, he knows he does.

“I really started going out with you because Jeongin asked”, he starts explaining, “but I fell in love with you, for real”

You feel your heart ache once more, he's about to cry, you can see it. But you're not sure if you can forgive him, even if what he's telling you is true.

“I don't believe you”, you say, shrugging, trying to hold your own tears.

“I will do anything to prove it to you, just say what I need to do for you to believe me”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“I'm not sure if I'll be able to forget this or even forgive you, Chan”, you sigh, letting your heart speak and not your anger.

“I know I messed up, I don't deserve you I know that too”, he grabs your hand, “but please, I'll prove to you that I deserve a second chance, I'll earn back your trust”, he pleads.

You sigh, even after all this, it seems you still can't say no to him.

“I'm going to need some time”, you say slowly, “but I will give you a second chance, you better not ruin it”, you say.

Chan can't believe you're really going to try and forgive him, he can't ask for anything more.

“I won't disappoint you this time, I promise”, he says, kissing the palm of your hand, the same way he did before.

“Let's see about that”, you sigh, feeling your heart beating fast once again.

You may be making a stupid choice, but you'll only learn by making mistakes. You just sure hope this is not one.

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

[missingmark]

― who you gonna call? pt.3

the boys know they'll always have someone to call when they need them. that someone in question being you, luckily that feeling is more than mutual.

‧₊˚ chris x gn!reader

‧₊˚ warnings: light swearing (?), the tiniest itzy bitzy bit of angst in the beginning, mutual pining (?)

‧₊˚ word count: 700

‧₊˚ pt.1 ( matt ) | pt.2 ( nick ) | masterlist

( 𝖈. ) ; you don't have to call him. you always find eachother.

your finger rested over your chat.

snickerdoodle [5:32 pm] : have fun on your date!!!!

you [6:34 pm] : i will, thank uuu

snickerdoodle [5:34 pm] : & tell me if he's a creep

snickerdoodle [5:35 pm] : ill find him.

Despite the tragic circumstances, being you sitting alone in the library, you had to hold back a smile at his words.

You've contemplated calling him multiple times over the last hour, your date had cancelled about half an hour after he should have picked you up. But instead of changing back into some more comfortable clothes and asking Chris to come over for a spontaneous movie night that he would most definitely say yes to in an instant, you decided to search for some comfort in your third favourite place in the world (the first being the triplets' couch and the second being your bathtub).

You actually missed the deadline on returning some of the books you borrowed just to give your full attention to this date that you were really looking forward to.

You sighed.

Those were 30 cents you would never get back.

The same thought taunted you as you walked through the shelves of said library, hoping to distract yourself and not wanting to waste a perfectly good outfit, you found yourself here.

The eerie silence you usually loved felt tauntingly grim tonight and the thoughts that were racing in your head sounded even louder.

Though it did help with recognizing a familiar voice at the librarians desk.

"I'd like to return these please."

You peaked your head out of the bookshelf, the familiar brown locks covering up the familiar and only face you wanted to see tonight.

You had totally forgotten about your date as you tapped him on your shoulder.

"Chris?"

He turned towards you, his face brightening at the sight of you, automatically pulling you into a side hug, his other hand still occupied with an oddly familiar set of books.

"What are you doing here? I didn't know you could read," you mumbled, watching him roll his eyes.

"Ha ha, very funny. You forgot these books at ours and I noticed the return date."

Your eyes widen a bit, A Brief History of Mixed Media Film Making, Directing Explained with Chloé Zhao and Color Theory in Stop Motion

Those were definitely your books.

"And I almost had hope you cared for Chloé Zhao's breakdown of directing," you murmured with a smile.

He shoved you a bit to the side, "Not even my undying love for you would make me pick up a book."

"Undying?"

"Don't get smug. I did it only because I knew you were busy because of your date."

He watched the smile in your face fade a bit.

"Speaking of the date, that you so rudely cancelled our movie night for, how is...did it go?" Chris mumbled, pulling a face at the change of mood he witnessed.

"Didn't show up." You shrugged, your voice didn't waver, but Chris could still make out some hurt.

"I'm sorry."

"It's whatever."

"It's not, this is all my fault," Chris mumbled, his face towards the row of books, though something told you he wasn't actually very focused on Biographies of Philosophers A-G.

"How is this your fault?"

"Should have never let you go on a date with that idiot..."

"Chris," you frowned, concerned.

"Should have taken him out when I had the chance."

"Chris." You warned, amused.

"And I should have taken you out instead of him as well."

He was now toying with Aristotle's biography, but even in the dim library light you could make out his blush and the occasional glance he'd send your way.

"As in on a date or do you want to beat my ass."

"Maybe both if you make fun of the fact that I don't read on our date tomorrow."

You giggled, fully turning your body towards him now.

"Tomorrow? Do I get a say in this?"

"No. Because you have terrible taste in men," he teased, leaning down towards your face.

A beat of silence, the two of you just stared at eachother.

"I'm starting to doubt that," you spoke, lowly. It was more a mental note to yourself than anything, though it flustered Chris nonetheless.

"We'll see," he leaned away again, putting the book he had paid no mind to back and dragging you out of the library.

The rest of the way towards your home was spend in silence, but his hand never left yours, and you had a giddy feeling every time you'd catch him staring at you.

"Thank you, really," you whispered once you eventually made it to your front door.

"You saved this night...and spared me a fee of 30 cents."

"Don't mention it. I'm just happy we spent some time together today."

"So humble," you mumbled as you unlocked the door, for the first time in what felt like the whole night you were turned away from him.

"Take all blame, duck all credit," he quoted, shrugging casually but his smug smile told you otherwise as you turned around with your mouth agape.

"You did read the Chloé Zhao Direction book!"

i hate the word agape. u say it ag-ape, scientifically proven. (real)

i hope you enjoyed, luv u <3

[ranposbabe]

Infidel | Johan Liebert x Reader

Chapter 5

“And then I told the little fucker to get off my back ! And now here we are !” He paces back and forth behind the worn sofa before finally taking a seat.

“I mean can you believe that ?!” He scoffs.

“No I can not.” You mutter, eyeing the man up and down. Mister you can’t bother learning his name. Middle aged yet looks way older than he actually is, overweight, low income and quite literally has nothing better to do then bullshit.

But that’s was just your little analysis after meeting the odd man just half an hour prior. Yes, your father had warned you that you would be speaking to a weird man.

His colleges snickered and howled when finding out you would be meeting with the man. With his little sympathy he informed you to take what the man says with a pince of salt.

Apparently the man you now regretfully meeting had a reputation in the pass for harassing anyone who would listen and deal with his so called “incidents”.

He was a profound liar but it was clear that his loneliness was a cause of the issue.

However it did not excuse his behaviour. He was constantly harassing people in the detective department not budging until someone addressed it. Of course everyone knowing he made stories up just to gain attention, they didn’t address it.

Until they just threw it at you because of course to them, you could never handle. a serious case all by yourself.

So you’re left with the shit show.

“So what will be done about it ?” He genuinely asks. For once you force yourself to hold back a smirk because deep down you get the sense that this man isn’t exactly wanting to cause harm.

More so just wanting someone to listen to his problems. Even if those problems were completely made up.

“Leave it to me sir.” You nod. “This file you’ve presented me will be in safe hands. You can be sure of that.” You state, grabbing the file from the coffe table before standing. “Thank you once again !”

He clasps his pruny hands together.

“Since no one else would take the job-

With that you leave, making sure to slam the door in frustration at the reminder of you taking the job and wasting your time.

Stepping outside you don’t hesitate to walk straight over to the public street bin and dump the file inside. Good riddance.

Walking away ever so causally yet determined to go to your next dreaded destination.

“Back from your very serious conversation already !” A colleague of your father snickers as you enter through the doorway, the load of drunks sat around the table with drinks twice the size they are. “I need to speak to you.” You nod towards your father, completing disregarding the drinks sat around you.

“Can this wait some other time, daughter of mine ?” He sighs, downing his drink before its taken away. Resting your hands on the table, you lean forward, sure to glare down at t he man. Oh how he hates to feel like s being out in his place.

“No it cannot, father of mine.” You glare, and at look he finally obeys.

“What now has occurred ? Has the fool informed you of another heroic tell of his ?”

“That man is clearly showing signs of a undiagnosed mental illness but that is not my point.” You shake your head at your now amused father.

“Why are you sending me out on single jobs that clearly does not value a resolution ?” You furrow your brows.

“You’re a mere woman, you needn’t have the hassle of handling a tough job. Especially by your lonesome.” He smirks, thinking he has the upper hand.

“I’m quite use to be surrounded by drunken fools and yet I foolishly thought you couldn’t end up like their current state !” You sigh. It was almost as he he had sobered up in that instance.

His once glazed over eyes turned dark as he glared back at you.

“Do not forget yourself, daughter.” He steps closer but you hold your ground much to his dismay. “I easily gave this job to you that you clearly despise and now you complain ? I can easily take it away as quick as it was given.” At that your eyes glare at him.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t forget yourself either, father.”

[luckhound]

— heavy burdens.

pairing.  kaeya/gender neutral reader

genre.  angst

description.  on an important anniversary, kaeya gets drunk off his ass, bonds with a fellow captain, and realizes some burdens can’t ever be set back down.

warnings.  spoilers for kaeya and diluc’s character stories. mentions of alcohol and a character (kaeya) being under the influence.

note.  four months later and i’ve finally finished this fic after writing it on and off for that whole time mskfjdks a big thank you to sierra, miya, and grace for reading over the previous drafts of this and giving me their honest thoughts, love you ladies <3

He hadn’t expected to get shitfaced when he had first stepped foot in the tavern. Honest.

His plan for the evening was as follows: Go to Angel’s Share, chat with patrons, share some laughs, learn some secrets, and see where the night goes. Only the information he gleaned would tell how it ended; with him stumbling back to his quarters for a night’s rest, or ruminating on how to dismantle schemes that enemies of Mondstadt were concocting in the shadows.

So, the usual. Nothing too noteworthy.

Then he happened to overhear a conversation on the way there.

The two civilians spoke in low, somber tones about how it has been exactly one year since Master Crepus’s death and his son Diluc’s subsequent departure from Mondstadt. How terrible, they mused as they shook their heads, that the new winery master hasn’t been heard from since. He must still be in mourning over his father.

Kaeya nearly stopped in the middle of the crowded street. Was today really the one-year anniversary of Master Crepus’s death? How had it managed to slip his mind? He’s been busy lately with a promising lead, true, but to think that he would forget...

Which, long story cut ruthlessly short, leads him to where he is now. Tuning out his tumultuous thoughts with the help of alcohol and secrets.

Upon entering the tavern to raucous cheers, he had flitted from table to table like the social butterfly he's purported to be. The usual suspects greeted him with varying levels of warmth, inviting him to sit and keep them company. Stable hands and bandits alike shared a drink with him, words spilling from their lips like the fine wine they supped on.

After some time, though, he grew tired of their monotonous days and banal gripes. So he retreated to the bar counter. As he nursed a Death After Noon, he kept an ear out, listening carefully even as he chatted with Charles between customers.

Unfortunately, he hasn’t heard anything juicy yet. So and so is complaining about his wife, while someone else is haranguing her boss, and another is celebrating their birthday. Dull and uninteresting.

Can you blame him for getting so deep in his cups? There’s nothing else to do on such a slow night.

“So this is where you decided to hide out. Colour me surprised.”

Kaeya notes the shadow falling over the counter moments before a familiar drawl reaches his ears. He tilts his head up, blinking furiously when his vision blurs. The drinks he's downed thus far—how many has it been? He lost count after five, how unlike him—have certainly reached his bloodstream.

You stand beside his stool, your lips thinned into an unimpressed line. Despite how inebriated he is, the relevant information he has on you flashes through his mind. A Knight of Favonius. Captain of the Intelligence Team. Once a company grade officer, then sergeant, lieutenant, before ascending to captain upon the retirement of your superior.

As admired as he is by most of Mondstadt, you’re among the minority who are far from his biggest fans. For good reason, he supposes. During your first meeting, he had congratulated you on your promotion, before going on to flippantly insult your old captain. You’ve hated him ever since.

Which is why he’s puzzled by you approaching him first—outside of headquarters, at that. Such a phenomenon is rare, like catching a crystalfly in your hands.

“Captain! Fancy seeing you here,” he greets, adopting a jovial tone. Then your words register in his addled mind. “‘Hide out’, you said? Whatever would I do that for?”

You prop a hand on your hip. “You didn’t make an appearance at the meeting today. Needless to say, the Dandelion Knight isn’t too impressed with you at the moment.” You appraise him, looking underwhelmed by what you see. Ouch. “Strange. You don’t seem terribly ill to me.”

Ah. That. Kaeya had wanted to investigate some curious rumours he’d heard around the city, so he made up a flimsy excuse to dodge the captain’s meeting held this morning. Grand Master Varka likely hadn’t batted an eye over it, but not Jean. She’ll have concerns.

He hums noncommittally. The thought of annoying his oldest ally never fails to bring a smirk to his lips, but he isn’t quite in the mood right now. “Is that so. You must be here to sternly tell me to clean up my act then.”

You scoff. “Surely you don’t need a second babysitter. No, I’m off-duty, so I’m here for the same reason everyone else is: to drink.”

“Hear, hear.” He lifts his tankard as if to toast to you, but the sudden momentum causes him to sway dangerously in his seat.

“Careful!” Eyes widening in alarm, you reach out to steady him. “Geez, Alberich. How many drinks have you had?”

The palm of your hand is warm where it sits on his shoulder; he can tell that even with his furs in the way. He almost leans into the touch but catches himself at the last second. How mortifying. He can just picture your horrified reaction to him drunkenly nuzzling up against you.

Almost falling off his seat in a crowded tavern, instinctively seeking out your slightest touch... He needs to get a hold of himself. Or find a way to halt the conversation here, so he can resume drinking by his lonesome.

“Not nearly enough,” he answers airily, leaning an elbow on the bar counter. You drop your hand to your side; he makes a point to not stare at it as you do. “Where’s your entourage? I’m surprised they aren't following dutifully behind you.”

“They’re my subordinates, not my entourage.” You shift awkwardly. “And they aren’t here. It may surprise you, but they have lives outside of the Intelligence Team. They can enjoy one evening without their captain breathing down their necks.”

He eyes you in amusement. “In that case, you should join me. I would welcome the company.” He finishes off his tankard, then motions to Charles for another drink. The bartender doesn’t even ask which one as he takes the pewter mug. He knows him well by now, after all.

Kaeya expects you to turn him down and find a seat elsewhere. Usually, such an invitation is enough to send you running for the hills. You lean a hip against the counter instead, as if settling in. “If I am not mistaken, you’re needed at headquarters tomorrow. I strongly advise you to call it a night, Captain.”

“Aww, are you worried about me, Captain?” He manages a grin at the scowl his reply elicits. “Don’t be. It won’t be the first time I stumble into work hungover. Certainly won’t be the last either.”

“How reassuring,” you say dryly.

“I aim to please.”

He perks up when Charles returns with a full tankard. The delectable taste of Death After Noon still sits on his tongue, warm and heady. He very much wants to experience it again. When he lifts the mug to his mouth, however, he misses the rim. He steadies the tankard before it empties itself onto his lap, but some of the wine drips down his chin, ruining his vest.

Thank goodness he isn’t drinking red wine. Every adult in Mondstadt knows red wine stains are notoriously difficult to clean. Still, what a waste of a perfectly good sip.

“Oh, for Barbatos’s sake.” That’s all the warning he gets before his drink is rudely snatched from his hand. He protests but can only watch helplessly as you bring it to your lips.

Then you proceed to down it.

His brows raise higher and higher the longer your throat bobs. He's never seen you drink with such gusto before. Shouldn’t you be gasping for breath by now? But no, you empty the tankard in a single go, then slam it on the counter (Charles makes a face, but wisely says nothing) and meet his gaze without flinching.

Wow, is all that his intoxicated mind can conjure up at the feat.

“There, all done. Now let’s go. I am walking you back.” Your voice is firm, brooking no argument. How captain-like of you. “Wouldn’t want Mondstadt’s illustrious Cavalry Captain to be found passed out in an alleyway tomorrow.”

On any other day, he’d be mildly irked by your stubbornness. But he did just spill his drink down his front like a newborn babe. No wonder you brought up his rank. In your eyes, his conduct must not befit that of a high-ranking knight. He doesn’t care what assumptions people form about him, never has, but tonight has been a bust anyway. Maybe it's best to call it quits.

Sighing theatrically, he rises to his feet. “All right, I know when I have been beaten. But don’t change your plans on my account. I can head to the barracks by myself just fine.”

“I’m sure you can,” you say, “but letting you walk alone this late in your state would grate at my conscience. So would you stop talking for once, and let me take you home?”

You get what you want. Your words render him silent.

Home, you called the barracks. He supposes you consider that place your home. But is it his, truly?

He thinks of Khaenri’ah, nothing but a distant, bloody memory. He thinks of his father, and how in their final moments together, the man had stared through him like he wasn’t there. He thinks of the Dawn Winery, where he had spent several years causing mayhem. He thinks of Master Crepus, never dad, and a brother who doesn’t exist anymore.

No, the barracks aren’t his home. Maybe he’s never had one to begin with.

When he comes to, Kaeya registers you leading him in the direction of the tavern door, your hand on his shoulder blade. This quickly catches the attention of the patrons. They call out their goodbyes, some raising their tankards and others chuckling good-naturedly.

“Look at that! Our Cavalry Cap’n had too much to drink, eh?”

“What, are you tapping out already, Captain Kaeya?”

“Has to be escorted out by a fellow knight, no less!”

You wave over your shoulder. “Just doing my patriotic duty, that's all.”

Kaeya gives his audience an exaggerated wink (as well as he can with his one uncovered eye) followed by a lazy hand salute. His grin remains fixed in place until the door swings shut. The wooden barrier barely muffles the sounds of conversation and merriment coming from within.

Had it been that loud while he was inside? He hadn’t noticed.

He isn’t able to dwell on it for long, because you nudge him in the direction of headquarters. “Come on. We have a bit of a walk ahead of us. Let’s get to it.”

“Oh, very well. But only because you asked so nicely.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“I know. I was being sarcastic.”

You nudge him harder, and he snickers under his breath as he walks.

This time of night, the cobblestone streets seem devoid of life. With the exception of Patton, who’s practically asleep standing up, the two of you don’t run into anyone. It's a stark change from how the city usually is, bright and bustling with crowds.

It suits him just fine, though. The crisp night air is sobering him up somewhat, the fog that had settled over his mind thinning. All too soon, he recalls everything he was trying to suppress.

Master Crepus. Diluc. His callousness and cruelty in forgetting them both.

In hindsight, he should have taken his mug back from you instead of just gaping like a fool. Sobriety is such a drag.

“You’re quiet,” you comment. You’re staring at him intently, your expression eerily similar to Timaeus’s when he is observing an alchemical reaction. It’s as if he is a specimen that you are keen on studying under a microscope.

He wants to scowl, to snap at you. “My apologies,” he says instead, as innocent as can be. “Were you waiting for me to strike up a conversation? Hold on a moment, let me think of a good topic...”

“That is not what I meant and you know it. It’s just, usually it’s impossible to get you to stop talking. The times I have seen you...indisposed”—buzzed as a bee, you undoubtedly mean—“that doesn’t change. You talk more, if anything.”

Curiously, your voice softens, an odd cadence colouring it. One he has not heard from you before, not directed at him at least. “I guess I’m just wondering if something is weighing on your mind. Is that what prompted you to drink so much tonight?”

By now, the two of you have walked down the stairway to the Knights of Favonius’s bulletin board. Of course, Hertha isn’t there this late to assign requests and bounties. The pieces of parchment pinned to the board flutter in the breeze. He stares at the sketch of a Ruin Guard, willing his sluggish mind to craft a suitable answer.

After a beat, his eye slides over to you. An impish grin curls at the corners of his mouth. “My, I had no idea that you watched my every move so closely. I’m flattered by the attention.”

Predictably, you sputter. “What even—that is not—you know what, if you want to dodge the question so badly, fine. We can just walk the rest of the way in silence.”

“As you wish, Captain.”

Although his words were said to fluster you into changing the subject, as you had correctly deduced, Kaeya means them. You have noticed him far more than he realized. As Captain of the Intelligence Team, it’s your job to be observant and keep tabs on others. He knows that. Still, it’s disconcerting to learn that you’ve had a close eye on him in particular.

He operates from the shadows for a reason; he can’t have you jeopardizing that by shining a light on him. Five months into your new position, and already you have proven yourself to be dangerous.

As you wished for, silence reigns as the two of you turn into an alley and approach two flights of stairs, leading to the center of the city. Kaeya resists pressing a hand against the nearest wall for balance. He had walked down a stairway unaided just moments ago, despite how unsteady he felt. Surely ascending some steps would prove to be easier.

Rather than focus on his feet, he looks up ahead. From his position, he can just barely glimpse the blades of a windmill, ever-turning against the dark backdrop of the night sky. He keeps his gaze there as he climbs, his boots scraping against stone.

He clears the first flight of stairs with little issue. See? Nothing to it.

Halfway up the second, Kaeya stumbles.

His surroundings tilt, blurring as he fumbles for balance. It’s a futile effort. Thanks to how inebriated he is, his limbs are too heavy and uncoordinated. The stone below rushes up to meet him.

Before his face can greet it, however, you catch him.

Your side moulds against his, a hand clasping his hip while the other carefully grasps at his spiked pauldron. His gloved hand covers yours reflexively as his racing heartbeat settles. He feels you stiffen at the touch, but you don't pull away. Neither does he.

For a moment, not a word is spoken between you both. The alley is filled only with the soft sound of breathing.

Then you click your tongue. “So much for heading back by yourself. You can barely keep your feet under you.” Your voice lilts with humour.

He knows this song and dance. It has been ingrained in him after all these months. You snark at him, he snarks back. Rinse and repeat. Although this is the first time he has heard levity in your tone; the first time it has been aimed at him, that is. He almost hadn’t thought you capable of it.

He straightens with a chuckle. “First at the tavern, and now in an alley. I just keep falling for you tonight, don’t I?”

You blink owlishly. It takes a moment for the words to sink in. Then a flustered expression crosses your features, before you compose yourself. “You are unbelievable.”

He grins. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You roll your eyes, even as the corners of your lips twitch. “You would.”

Kaeya expects you to move away, so the two of you can resume walking, but you don’t. “Not that I mind having your hands on me, but...will you be letting go any time soon?”

“That depends.” A challenging glint appears in your eye. “Can you handle walking on your own? Or do you need me to cradle you the rest of the way to headquarters, like some damsel?”

He guffaws, taken off-guard by the retort. A reply escapes his loosened tongue before he can think better of it, “Archons, that sounded just like him.”

“Like who?”

“My brother.”

In the past, despite being underage, he was sometimes able to charm bartenders at Angel’s Share—new hires unaware of how to deal with him as of yet—into serving him drinks. Diluc would find him eventually, a disapproving twist to his mouth, and put a stop to it.

Back then, Kaeya was a lightweight and had to be supported back to headquarters. Diluc would scowl and roll his eyes the entire way, but there was still a softness in his gaze. His hands were strong, but careful; Kaeya knew that his brother would not let him fall. He could even be persuaded to join in when Kaeya began to sing, their off-key voices disturbing the silence of the night.

Come morning, while Kaeya nursed the inevitable headache and Jean nagged him about violating the Knights of Favonius Handbook, Diluc would snort. “Serves you right,” he’d say, then hand him a draught for curing hangovers.

Now Kaeya must weather the pain alone.

You tilt your head to the side, your gaze fixed on his. “I had no idea that you have a brother,” you say softly.

Had, he nearly corrects. But he has told you too much already.

This is why he is so careful when drinking in the company of others. Alcohol is a double-edged sword; as delectable as it is, it also loosens inhibitions. It’s what he relies on when charming information out of allies and adversaries alike, none of them the wiser of what they have given up.

How the tables have turned.

“Well, now you do.” A trace of bitterness enters his tone.

You eye him, quiet, before pulling back. You motion forward with your chin. “Let’s keep moving. We’ll never make it to headquarters at this pace.”

Relieved by the subject change, he listens. He makes a conscious effort to place one foot in front of the other, gaze trained on the remaining steps below. You stay at his side, closer than you were before. He can feel your hand hovering at the small of his back, ready to catch him should he trip once more, but he ignores it.

It won’t happen again. He’ll make sure of it.

The alley opens up to a view of the market district. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have long to enjoy the reprieve. The two of you turn right, away from the railing overlooking the main square, to climb two more flights of stairs. A left, and more stairways await.

By the time the Knights of Favonius Headquarters looms above you, Kaeya’s legs ache from the walk. He is very much looking forward to retiring to his quarters.

The knights stationed outside stiffen at the sight of you and Kaeya, standing at attention. They perform a salute in perfect unison. Do they rehearse that before every shift? Surely they must.

The guard on the left, with the glasses and unfortunate haircut, chirps, “Good evening, Captains! I hope you are doing well.” He appears wide awake despite the late hour.

At least the one on the right looks appropriately haggard. “Welcome back,” he grunts.

While Kaeya brushes past them with a nod of acknowledgement, eager to head inside, you stop. “Good evening, Athos, Porthos. Your shift ends soon, I hope? It can’t be terribly interesting, standing watch outside headquarters so late.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Captain!” Athos, as you had referred to him, says. “Guard duty may not be glamorous, but it is still important.”

“Much as I agree with the lad, I can’t bring myself to be so damn cheerful about it,” Porthos sighs, his words tinged with self-deprecation. “Must be ‘cause of these old bones.”

“That’s not true, Sir Porthos. Your bones aren’t that old!” the younger knight argues, prompting the older to shake his head with a chuckle.

“Athos isn’t wrong,” you add. “You are far more sprightly than most knights I know.”

“If that’s true, then Mondstadt is in trouble.”

Smiling and shaking your head, you finally pass by them, climbing the short steps to return to Kaeya's side. He lifts a brow as he pulls on one of the large oak doors, holding it open for you.

It’s almost comical how quickly your smile disappears. Your eyes narrow as you enter inside. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” he says breezily, following after you. The door falls closed behind you both with a loud, echoing thud. “Just that I didn’t know you were so chummy with the guards.”

It is blindingly bright inside the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, as if it isn’t nearing midnight. The sconces on the walls are lit up, as is the chandelier hanging in the center of the main hall. The two of you make your way towards the—joy of all joys—staircase. The barracks for knights are located on the second floor, and on the floor above that, separate quarters for the captains.

“I am off-duty right now. It’s not unprofessional for me to speak informally with them.”

His eye widens. “Why, I never said it was unprofessional, Captain.”

You grind your teeth so hard he can practically hear the enamel wearing away. “You implied it.” No, he didn’t. Your distaste for him has you imagining mockery where there is none. As if Kaeya has any room to judge someone for acting unprofessional.

“I did? That’s news to me.” Privately, he marvels at how easily he can agitate you. Him, no one else—he has observed you long enough to know your prickliness is reserved for him alone. Maybe that’s why he annoys you further instead of clearing up the many miscommunications that tend to occur. Not that you’ll believe him, even if he’s being completely honest.

You huff. “How the Dandelion Knight manages to put up with you, I’ll never know,” you mutter.

“How rude, Captain! Jean doesn’t put up with me, she considers me indispensable.”

You cut a look at him. “Yes, I’m sure she thought the same when you failed to show up to today’s meeting.”

“Must you bring that up again? I shudder just thinking of the lecture she’ll have ready for me in the morning. Perhaps my mysterious ailment should plague me for a little while longer...”

“Prolonging the inevitable will do you no favours.” You pause briefly, then add, “Ah, I almost forgot to mention. After the meeting, I ran into Inspector Eroch. He was waiting outside and asked after you. He seemed irked when I informed him that you were absent today.”

If Kaeya was not so skilled at masking his reactions, he would’ve perked up at that. He might have even stopped in his tracks or whipped his head around to look at you. But he knows better than to give himself away so obviously. He leisurely climbs the steps, his features revealing only vague interest. “Oh? Somehow I doubt he was upset out of concern for my wellbeing.”

You glance over. “I wouldn’t know. He did not say anything when I asked why he wanted to see you, or if I could pass on a message. He just brushed me off and left.”

“Don’t be hurt by his shameful conduct, Captain. I for one enjoy your company immensely.”

You ignore his thoughtful statement. “I thought that he might have had a prior engagement with you, which you missed due to being terribly ill.”

He shrugs. “If we did, I don’t recall it.”

That earns him another look, longer than the one before. He doesn’t flinch away from it, his expression remaining serene. Privately, he wonders what you know. Are you merely intrigued by what Inspector Eroch might want with him? Or are you more aware than you’re letting on?

After all, Eroch is the one Kaeya has been secretly investigating for the past year.

Looks like the inspector has caught on. About time. No doubt he wants to figure out just how much Kaeya knows—which is not much, unfortunately. He knows that Eroch has more than just Mondstadt’s best interests in mind; a Fatui spy like him would have just the opposite. But he is unsure what the man is up to, or who he even is.

He does, however, have an inkling. Several, even.

Inspector Eroch had been insistent on covering up the details of Master Crepus’s death. For the good of Mondstadt, he claimed, not wanting the citizenry to lose faith in the Knights of Favonius. Grand Master Varka had ultimately sided with him. It resulted in Diluc resigning his position and leaving the city a year ago.

Kaeya had kept an eye on the inspector after that. He knew there was more to the situation than just preserving Mondstadt’s trust in the Knights, and it had everything to do with the dangerous and evil power Master Crepus had harnessed. It was only a matter of figuring out what. And once he has all of the information...

Well, he knows what Diluc would do, once upon a time. Blazing with righteous fury, he’d take his findings to Grand Master Varka, insisting on Eroch’s arrest and expulsion from the Knights of Favonius. He would see it as retribution for how poorly his father’s death had been handled.

But Kaeya suffers from no delusions. Maybe he looked into Eroch because of Master Crepus. Maybe he wanted some kind of revenge for what happened. Maybe he yearned to atone for his past inaction. None of that means he has any heroic intentions.

If it serves his interests better, he won’t expose the inspector immediately. He will hoard his knowledge instead, keeping his cards close to his chest until it’s the right time to play them.

That is how he has always operated. Master Crepus's death and Diluc's departure have not changed that. For a brief, nonsensical moment, he wishes they had. Then common sense returns to him. A foolhardy sense of justice is of no use to him. He’ll leave that to Diluc.

While he extricates himself from his wayward thoughts, you turn away to clear the last few steps. “If it is important, surely he will try to approach you again,” you say.

“I look forward to it with bated breath.”

You scoff, rightfully skeptical, but don’t respond. Clearly, you are content to leave it at that.

He wonders at how easily you let the subject drop. Had you suspected something, you would have pushed to learn more, wouldn’t you? Now is as opportune a time as any; it’s late, he’s tired and drunk, and the both of you are alone. Does that make you oblivious, or an idiot, or crafty?

Having made it to the third floor, the two of you make your way down the hallway. His quarters are before your own, three doors on the left. He stops in front of his door, reaching into one of many hidden coat pockets to produce his key.

He glances at you. You have yet to leave for own your room. “You don’t have to hover at my side, you know,” he says with a touch of amusement. “I may be tipsy, but I am no longer in any danger of being harassed by ruffians or passing out in the streets. Unless you're secretly harbouring nefarious intentions towards me, Captain.”

“You’ll just have to wait and find out,” is your unruffled response.

Chuckling under his breath, he unlocks his door and lets it swing open wide. It’s dark inside, faint moonlight shining through the small window above his desk. Coupled with the sconces out in the hallway, however, there is enough light for him to stumble to his bedside without stubbing a single toe. He doesn’t bother to close the door on you; he has nothing to hide.

Kaeya knows what his quarters must look like to a stranger. They’re a mess, as if someone had searched them in a haste and not bothered to clean up afterward. The walls are bare, save for a map of Mondstadt that he’d hung up ages ago. Tomes of all sizes and loose leaves of parchment litter his oak desk, pushed up against a wall. A quill lies abandoned atop a half-finished note with ink drying on its nib. His closet door is cracked open, a discarded boot dissuading anyone from forcing it shut.

Yes, his quarters are a mess. But he knows exactly where everything is. Should someone actually attempt to search his things, he would know immediately. Not that they would find anything particularly damning. He isn’t foolish enough to leave important documents or sensitive information lying about—nothing he is unwilling to part with, anyway.

“Horrifying, but unsurprising,” he hears you mutter to yourself.

Kaeya doesn’t even consider slipping out of his ruined clothes or engaging you in further conversation. Now that he has made it back to his quarters, all he can think about is the sweet embrace of sleep. He sinks into his unmade bed, draping an arm over his face.

You continue to linger in the doorway. “You should change before you fall asleep.”

“Mhm.”

“You'll regret not doing so in the morning.”

“Uh-huh.” He still doesn’t move.

“Alberich. You stink of booze.”

“You sure know how to compliment a guy, Captain. I’m impressed.”

You sigh, long and loud. He waits to hear the door close behind you, only for you to walk up to his bedside. Your steps are slow, hesitant yet purposeful. He stiffens, immediately on-guard, but fights his instincts in order to remain still. What are you planning?

He feels you grip his boot. Metal jingles as you undo the buckle. Then you pry it off.

He lifts his arm to peer up at you. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” You set his boot on the ground, then move on to the other one. “If you won’t change, you should at least take off your shoes. You’ll dirty your sheets otherwise.”

Oh, you make it so easy for him to twist everything you say into an innuendo. For once he resists the urge. “You forgot something,” he says instead. He wiggles his sock-clad foot at you. Just to see if you will do it.

You grimace, swatting his leg away. “Absolutely not. I don’t want to be anywhere near those.”

So you say. But you’re taking his boots off for him out of your own volition. There is no need for you to do any of this. It’s not your duty to stop him from drinking himself into a stupor, or walk him back to headquarters unharmed, or all but tuck him into bed. Yet here you are.

What is it that you want? There have been plenty of opportunities for you to try and take advantage of his drunken state, but you have sidestepped every one. Frustration brews in his sternum.

“Do you do this for everyone who you hate?” he finds himself asking, tone purposely lighthearted.

You pause in your ministrations to stare at him. “What? I don't hate you.” At his disbelieving look, you insist, “I don’t. You have always been a pain to deal with, sure, but I never once felt that way.”

He smiles, unconvinced. “Not even when I insulted your dear old captain?”

“Insulted my... That was months ago, when we first met.” Despite your bewilderment, you take a moment to contemplate his question. “I was upset with you, yes. But now that I’ve had this position for some time...maybe your assessment wasn’t off. When I was lieutenant, I didn’t always see eye-to-eye with my captain. They were too set in their ways and scorned most criticism. I respected them, and still do, but I shouldn’t be ignorant of their faults.”

Your gaze meets his once more. “In a way, what you said that day led me to realize that. You weren’t badmouthing my captain; you didn’t have a vendetta or want to get a rise out of me. At least, I don’t think you did. You must have legitimate issues with their leadership, as a captain yourself.”

He watches you shrewdly. Your tone was even, your expression clear. He cannot detect any deception from you. Of course, that means little. Still, perhaps you’re telling the truth. Perhaps you don’t hate him after all.

A headache, newly formed, pounds at his temple. If he were more sober, he would be better equipped to handle such a revelation. He’ll have to come to a proper conclusion later.

You fiddle with the buckle on his remaining boot. “And what about you?”

“Hmm? What about me?”

“You have ample reason to look down on me. Most of the knights know that you aren’t just Cavalry Captain and Quartermaster. Your role is more important than that. Surely you would make a better...” you trail off, your jaw working silently.

Kaeya knows how that sentence ends. Surely you would make a better Captain of the Intelligence Team than me. It doesn’t come as a surprise.

Up until now, he thought he knew you well. You made it no secret you loathed him. You have never said so explicitly, but he has a talent for reading people. It’s a classic case of envy. He has seen it many times before. You compare yourself to him and find yourself wanting. It colours the way you interact with him; your words brusque, your gaze narrowed.

Not only did he insult your captain, but you consider him more capable than you. Your hatred makes sense. It’s predictable.

Or so he believed, until tonight.

“You know what, never mind. Forget I asked.” Uh-oh. Seems he took too long to respond. You busy yourself with unbuckling his boot, avoiding his eye.

If he were to be honest, there are many ways he could answer you. He thinks you are a better captain than your superior could ever hope to have been. He thinks you are a leader capable of inspiring undying loyalty in your officers. He thinks you have a deep, unflinching love for Mondstadt and its people. He thinks you constantly push yourself to greater heights, to the point it lights a fire in him as well.

He admits to none of those things, in the end.

“Give yourself some credit, Captain,” he murmurs. You glance over in surprise. He meets your gaze. For perhaps the first time in a while, he hopes his words sound sincere—not because he doesn’t mean them, but because he does. “I know the officers under your supervision think you’re a good leader. They wouldn’t want anyone else to take your place.” Certainly not someone like me.

Instead of reassuring you, however, his answer seems to do the opposite. You look frustrated. “That isn’t what I...” you trail off. You search his features, silent, before your brow furrows. “I can’t tell if you mean what you just said. Sometimes I’m not sure I ever can.”

He takes care not to allow his features to visibly harden. Of course you would doubt him, the one time he tries to be honest with you. What else did he expect? Maybe you don't hate him, maybe you never have, but that means little. You won’t ever fully trust him. To be fair, the feeling is mutual.

His mouth tastes unbearably bitter. It must be the wine.

“At this point, I’m willing to say just about anything if it’ll mean I can get some shut-eye.” He feels no satisfaction upon seeing your shoulders stiffen. He still manages to grin. “Well, Captain? Any other requests?”

“No,” you say. Then you tug off his boot with a brisk motion.

He stifles a yelp. “Hey, now! No need to be so rough.”

“My sincere apologies.” You set the boot down next to his other one, your lips thinned. “I should go. Wouldn’t want you to lose more sleep than you already have. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, after all.”

Talk about vindictive. Despite his irritation, he has to fight a smile. Knowing you, you’ll see it and take it the wrong way, as you usually do.

Having finished removing his boots, you turn and walk for the door without another word.

He’s struck with the odd urge to stop you. To reach out, take your hand in his, and tug you back. Not because he wants something from you, or needs to tell you something. He wishes you would stay a little longer, that’s all. Wants the silence to be filled by your voice instead of his thoughts.

Now he knows he’s had too much to drink. He’s contemplating such ridiculous things.

Before his addled mind can catch up and he can say something, apologize perhaps, you shut the door behind you. Your footsteps travel down the hallway, slightly hurried. The door to your quarters creaks open then closed.

He’s too late. It’s for the best.

Kaeya lies back and stares up at the ceiling. His vision swims, as if he’s adrift at sea. Closing his eye only makes it worse.

His mind pores over the events of the day. Investigating Eroch, remembering Master Crepus and Diluc, visiting the tavern, running into you. He feels restless, pulled in several directions at once.

With a harsh exhale, he rises to his feet and locks his door. Then he begins his nightly ritual.

His pauldron is first to go. It hits the floor with a dull noise. Then he peels off his gloves and tosses them on the desk. The burns on his hands have long since healed, but he still deals with numbness now and then. Not many know they even exist; he doesn’t want anyone taking advantage of a potential weakness. His eyepatch follows closely after.

He removes the Cryo Vision from his belt last. He stares at it, its blue glow washing over his scarred palm and turning his skin a sickly brown hue. If it’s been a year since Master Crepus’s death, it has been about a year since he was gifted a Vision as well. The sight of it has been a hard reminder ever since. Of how he’d won a difficult battle. Of how he’d finally revealed the truth. Of how he can never speak it again.

He tucks the Vision under his pillow, then collapses back into bed. An odd sensation fills him, as it does every time he completes this ritual. It’s like he has taken off every scrap of armour he has and foolishly exposed himself to danger, despite being alone in the stillness of his quarters.

Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling, he closes his eyes and waits for sleep to take him under.

It never does.

[handy-dandy-monster-candy]

Ruathym, part Three

Rating: NSFW Length: 2272 Pairing: Male Drider x GN Reader

The finale for the romance for @kim-monsterlings!

xxx

Much to your surprise, Ruathym gives you space. There are fewer summons and the spies make themselves ever scarcer, until you could swear there were long stretches of time in which you were truly alone. Even more surprising, you found yourself becoming restless and ill-tempered in these moments, losing your patience with even Tinki. (Of course, you make it up to the little, well-meaning creature; spiders, you learn, are surprisingly good at puppy-dog eyes.)

“You’ve been snapping at the staff left and right,” Ruathym says with no small amount of amusement some days later, braiding your hair down your scalp. It’s gotten longer, you realise, and you contemplate cutting it before your captor speaks. “Have I displeased you in some way?”

Yes, you wish to say, but you’re sure that the King has done nothing wrong. Not truly. “No,” you say instead, though it sounds unconvincing to your own ears.

“Hm,” hums Ruathym, tugging gently at your hair in admonishment. “With the way you’ve been acting, one might get the impression that you dislike being far from my side.” You twitch and he laughs, triumphant. “Is that it, my little bug? Have you come to crave the pull of my silk?”

“I wish you wouldn’t mock me,” you grouse, sighing heavily. “It reminds me why I prefer my own company.”

Ruathym chuckles, fingertips skating along the skin of your back before he picks you up and cradles you against him in his four arms. “I thought humans needed time to mourn their losses,” he says, searching your face with something sharper in his eyes than his usual derision. “I’m no reader of minds, my sweet. You must tell me if you have want of me.”

You scoff. You can’t help it. When has being vulnerable ever served you well? You almost bite his fingers when he turns your face to look into your eyes, sighing once again in your defeat. “And if I do?” you challenge, lifting your proud chin. “What of it?”

“Then you shall become my consort,” says Ruathym, with a simple frankness that flabbergasts you.

“Your—what?” you gasp, distantly aware that your lips are flapping like a fish on the docks.

“Do try not to make me repeat myself,” Ruathym replies in exasperation, pinching your chin. “My consort. My lover. Whatever you humans call those of our stations in courtship.”

“But I’m human!” you splutter, struggling to sit up straighter in his arms.

“I’m aware,” drawls Ruathym, helping you get your bearings—at least physically. “Did you think I was sleeping with you because you disgusted me?”

“I…” You don’t have the words. You don’t know what you thought, but it definitely wasn’t this. “You think I’m attractive?”

“What did I just say about making me repeat myself?”

You huff, scowling up into his handsome, angular face. “You wouldn’t be. I want answers, not riddles.”

Ruathym snorts indelicately, one of his few habits that doesn’t come with some modicum of damnable grace. “Yes, I find you attractive. No one else has the audacity to speak to me the way that you do. I find it thrilling.”

“You mean you like it when I’m cruel.” You frown. “That’s not what I’m after. I don’t want to be cruel to my lover. If you want to court me, you do it right.”

Ruathym carefully sets you down on the bed, curling his legs up under himself and draping his humanoid torso across plump, velvety pillows. “Teach me what humans do ‘right’, then,” he commands, gesturing for you to speak.

You flounder for a moment; this was not how you expected your evening to go. “We… We court,” you say dumbly, gesticulating helplessly. “We exchange gifts of trinkets and flowers, we write one another letters, we—well, usually there’s pining involved, I suppose.”

“How dull,” sighs the King, watching you beneath his thick, silvery lashes. “Driders kill for their lovers.”

The weight of his words isn’t lost on you. You think of your brother and his knights—of the entirety of the kingdom laid to waste at your feet. You feel lightheaded, blood creeping up your neck and up into your face. You have to resist the urge to hide from the slow, smug smirk of satisfaction that melts onto the Drider King’s face. Damn the man. Had he been courting you in his own way this entire time? Damn him!

“What about the Queen?” you ask, hedging around the obvious revelation and latching onto one of your more prominent doubts.

Ruathym blinks hard, clearly startled. “What about her?”

“You’re married,” you say, “and she hates me. Won’t she want me dead once she realises her lover’s attention has strayed?”

The King laughs, hard and loud, throwing his head back with his mirth and revealing his fangs. “She’s never loved me a day in her life,” he manages to gurgle after several seconds of laughter, “and the feeling is mutual. We married for politics and to spawn strong children. That’s all. If she so much as schemes to harm a hair on your head, I will kill her or die trying.”

“Ruathym!”

“What? Does it shock you? I protect what is mine, little bug, and you are what I wish to possess in your entirety.”

You bristle at this, though you curse your stupid heart for fluttering in your chest like a tizzied moth. “I’m not a thing, Ruathym. You can’t possess me. Either you love me, or our arrangement remains the same.”

Ruathym shrugs an elegant shoulder, expression shifting into something bordering on thoughtful. “What is love to a human may not be love to a drider, little one. I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. Is that not love? I would kill you before I allowed you to court another. Is that not love? I would lay down my life to protect you. Is that not love, this powerful, ugly thing?”

You don’t know what to say to this. You want to object, but your heart is pounding too loudly, your thoughts are too muddled. Never has someone felt so strongly about you, and while your feelings are conflicted, you can’t deny that there’s something intoxicating about the King and his firm command of you in and out of the bedchambers.

Courtship with Ruathym is… interesting. He sends you poisonous flowers at first for their beauty, unaware that their very touch could kill you. When you correct him, he expresses his disdain for human frailty, but then he sends for roses and takes the care to have their thorns removed so as to avoid any chance of injury. It’s excessive and obnoxious, but it’s endearing in its own way, even if you’ve never been particularly fond of roses. Still, each bouquet is a different colour paired with different complimentary flowers, and you begin to look forward to your weekly deliveries with something like anticipation.

Then there are the letters.

As expected, Ruathym’s lettering is swooping and elegant, more reminiscent of ornamental calligraphy than what one would use for writing to a lover. Still, each letter holds within it a terribly sweet awkwardness that lets you know that he’s never written a letter out of love in the whole of his life. He’s strangely formal at first, addressing you by all of your names in the greetings of his first few letters, but it isn’t long before he’s dropping them all in favour of addressing you as he does in person. It makes your heart flutter oddly in your chest to see ‘little bug’ written in such beautiful, glittering script, shimmering silver on charcoal grey parchment.

Soon, they become less letters and more little notes delivered on scraps here and there. Tiny doodles of advisors dying terrible deaths done in the throes of boredom, or tidbits of trivia from the kingdom at large. Did you know we had 5,363 cattle in the region of the L’Surba Caverns? Neither did I know nor care, one says, and you snort into your tea at the thought of the King sitting proudly while some poor sod with an abacus counted out their livestock from the sum of several reports. While you missed the weight of your crown, you did not exactly miss all of the bureaucracy attached to it.

He takes you on little outings, here and there. At first it’s a simple stroll through the gardens, sharing meals and speaking about your days. Then, as you both grow bolder, outings to meet—or, in his case, intimidate—the people. Finally, with glamours and enchantments, you take to the countryside for days at a time, disguised as a couple or adventurers on a quest. It’s during these outings that you get to know him best, away from the bustle of the castle, where his impetuous charm and rakish smiles lure you to him like a moth to flame, and you crash and burn in his heated embrace.

One evening many months later, you are summoned to a part of the palace that you rarely frequent, for it is usually crawling with servants and vassals of every kind. Now, however, the halls are quiet and still, and the servant who leads you to the chamber where Ruathym awaits disappears like a whisper in the dark. There, in the centre of the room, is a set of robes unlike any you’ve ever seen, woven in shimmering silk dyed the colour of rubies. You approach as if in a dream, running your fingers along embroidery in the shape of tiny silver spiderlings along the shoulders and hems—you nearly jump out of your skin when the King drapes himself across your back.

“What is this?” you whisper, looking over your shoulder at his soft, searching face.

“Your wedding attire,” he says, and he seems unperturbed when you draw away, stunned.

“My what? Your wife!”

“Is dead,” Ruathym simply replies, shaking his head at your unasked question. “We had a clutch of eggs. She went the natural way. The children feed on her yet.”

You grimace at this, though you can’t deny the relief you feel at her passing. “You’re a father now?”

“I am. You will also be their parent, when we wed.”

“‘When’? You’re assuming I’ll accept!”

“Would you deny me?” he asks sharply, eyes narrowing into gleaming slits.

Your stomach flips. “Well,” you say, flustered and at a loss. “This is all so sudden, Ruathym!”

“Is it really?” he asks, reeling you in against him again. “We’ve posed as newlyweds before. Why is it so different now?”

“Because it’s real now! We wouldn’t be pretending!”

“Who says that I was pretending before?” he demands, trapping you between his body and the robe on the mannequin. “It was practise.”

You feel your face burning, and you’re sure you might blend into the robe at your back if given just a little more provocation. “You despicable little—“

“Yes, yes, call me names,” he says, waving away your insults. “Later. Give me your answer now.”

“You know my answer,” you grumble, pushing ineffectively at his chest.

“I know it,” he confirms, smugness in every syllable. “I wish to hear it.”

You kiss him instead, drawing him into a passionate embrace and climbing up into his arms when he lifts you off your feet. You hadn’t seen the bed in the corner of the room, but that’s where he takes you a moment later, tossing your “irritating human clothing” over the edge of it and onto the floor. You expect him to bend you over the pillows. You expect him to claw at your skin, to bite at your shoulders, to whisper filth into your ears.

He kisses you instead.

He kisses you like neither of you have ever borne a crown—as if he could find the answers in the hazing of your eyes when he steals your breath with his tongue, hands in your hair and burning along your spine. He teases you open with his fingers until you’re reduced to begging for release, and then he presses into you with soft, shuddering breaths spilling from his lips, eyes on your face as you toss your head back into the sheets and writhe.

He sighs your name like a psalm when you come around him, and then he pushes into you again and again, his cool fingers threading between yours and holding you firmly against the bed as you shake apart beneath him. You feel something in your chest unbreak when he bites you without fang, staying present for every moment that his lips brush against yours and your name falls into the pool of heat between you.

This time, when he comes, he shatters like a shower of glass and sparks, cresting against you like a wave and pushing you over the edge all over again, throat trapped desperately—willingly—between his teeth. When your eyes focus again, you find him looking down at you with a tenderness you’d never thought him capable of, and it makes you want to hide. “What?” you whisper up at him, trying and failing to tug a bit of the sheets over your body.

“I love you, little bug,” Ruathym whispers back, tracing your lips with his thumb. “I have done and will do so until this heart in my chest stops beating.”

“That’s so dark,” you say, “for a declaration of love.”

“It is my declaration, and I am not a man of light. Would you deny me?”

“No,” you breathe, shyly reaching up to touch his face. “I love you, too.”

Ruathym smiles, and despite his words, it lights up the room. “I know.”

You snort. “Bastard.”

“I know that, too.”

[zemodaddy]

Shades of Him

Chapter 6

I just wanna say I’m sorry.

Warnings: violence, swearing, fluff

Word count:

Chapter 6

You follow the girl into a building which supposed to house Karli. She points to a doorway signalling that she’s just up ahead. “You got ten minutes, then we’re doing things my way” Walker pushes Zemo against a wall and handcuffs him to some kind of machinery. “Aggressive, but I get it” You try your best to ignore the urge to send Walker flying out of a window. “Go ahead Sam, we’ll stay here” you say.

You all wait in silence. Bucky and you blocking the doorway that Sam went through, Zemo restrained opposite you, Leemar was sat on a ledge and Walker kept on walking up and down. He was restless, he hated not being in control. A woman having dominance over him must irk him to the core. You smile to yourself. You look at Zemo to find him looking at you already. He tilted his head lightly, glanced at Walker, and grinned in amusement as if to say ‘what’s wrong with this guy’. You shake your head widening your smile.

Walker now walks up to Bucky and you, looking over your shoulders as if he could see through walls and see Sam. “No no no this is a bad idea” he states, walking away again. “Sit tight john it hasn’t been ten minutes yet” Bucky says calmly. “Don’t do that, don’t patronise me” what is with this dude. “He knows what he’s doing” you say. After a second Walker goes “I’m goin in”. You both stop him, yet he’s persistent. “Your partner needs back up in there, do you really want his blood on your hands?”

“Bucky really?” He had let Walker and his friend pass. Luckily you had snipped the keys to Zemos handcuffs from his pocket before he left. After discreetly tossing them to Zemo you follow Bucky after Walker. A commotion was already happening between him, Sam and Karli. Fuck. Karli looked betrayed by Sam and quickly started running for the nearest door. Bucky pushes past everyone and follows her.

“See what you did Johnny” you shout. He flings the shield at you to which you duck. He is really testing your patience. Before you could find the best way to take him out he had already disappeared after Karli. “That little git”. You run after him.

Arriving just in time, you find Zemo smashing some blue vials on the ground. Walker was taking a few swift steps towards him before lifting his shield to Zemos head. Correction, Steve’s shield. Before you could stop him he launches it. “What the hell, Walker” you rush over to Zemo who now lay on the floor. However, while examining his face for any serious damage you don’t notice Walker bending down and picking the one vial that wasn’t destroyed.

Luckily, Zemo wasn’t hurt, just knocked out. You move to Walker and as he turns around you punch him in the face. “You’re going to regret that” he says. You laugh “am I?” you summon flames into your hands, daring him to make his move. At the sight of your hands he seemed to back down a little. The others rush in. “What did we miss?”

“Somethings not right about Walker” Bucky walks into the main kitchen/lounge area. “Yeah he’s batshit crazy.” You say, earning a chuckle from Sam. Zemo was lying on one of the couches, with a wet flannel you had given him upon your return to his house on his face. “You shouldn’t have given him the shield” Bucky aims this statement at Sam. “I didn’t give him the shield.” “Well Steve definitely didn’t.” You were walking over to Zemo to check on his face when the front doors fly open. “Fucking hell”

“Alright that’s it let’s go, I’m ordering you to had him over.” Walker struts into your space. “That’s not going to happen”you say. Zemo gets up behind you and begins to walk to the outer edge of the room. “Shield or no shield the only think your running in here is your mouth” sam says. You follow Zemo and whisper “this can’t be good”. Seconds after you say this a loud thud noise sounds. A long spear had wedged itself before Walker into the wall. The Dora Milaje enter. “Release him to us now” Zemo seems to be in high demand today. “Hi, John Walker, captain America” the leader doesn’t say a word. “Well, uh let’s put down the pointy sticks” “you might want to fight Bucky before fighting the Dora milaje Johnny boo” you say. “Yeah well the Dora Milaje don’t have jurisdiction here”. Now the woman speaks “the Dora milaje have jurisdiction wherever they find themselves to be”

A fight was to be expected. Walker gave them too little credit. “We should do something” Sam voices. “Looking strong John” Bucky shouts over the chaos. You pour yourself a drink while watching everyone fight. It didn’t seem fitting to I interrupt them just yet. Bucky and Sam had now got themselves involved meaning that they’d probably need back up soon. However you hadn’t notice Zemo slip into a bathroom and lock the doors behind him, you were too focused on wondering who to help.

You decide to aid Sam in his struggle against one of the Dora Milaje. She overpowered him way to easily. After some struggling both parties stopped fighting as the leader found that Zemo had left. Somehow Bucky’s arm had been removed and was lying on the floor. They soon left leaving you all of bit dishevelled. Walker looked as if he’d dropped his favourite toy in the toilet.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El chapo” the three of you were gazing at the uncovered hole in the bathroom which Zemo had escaped through. “I can” Bucky says. “Ill follow him, you guys focus on Karli” “no” they both say at the same time. “I can track him and make sure he is secured while you guys finish the mission” there was no other way and they both knew it. “Fine, but be careful.”

You waste no time in finding Zemo. However, instead of going underground, you follow the tracker Bucky had placed on him when he first escaped from prison. He had travelled far already. By the looks of the screen in front of you he was heading for Sokovia. He knew he was being tracked, yet used his one opportunity of freedom to visit his old home. You guess it was time to ask another favour from your old friend.

“Hey Sharon its me again.” You speak into your phone “Y/n? Is something wrong” “Zemo snuck out and I’m finding him now but he’s in the air” “Do you happen to have a plane I could borrow?” You hear Sharon sigh over the phone. “Head to your nearest airstrip, ill get one ready” “Thank you so much I owe you one Sharon” “The things I do for you three” you could hear the eye roll in her voice.

As promised, you find yourself on a jet plane, heading for Sokovia. You receive an alert on your phone. It read ‘Captain America brutally murders civilian’. “What” you knew he was insane but you certainly didn’t expect this. You quickly dial for Sam. “What happened?” You couldn’t get the words out quick enough. “We went to talk to Karli but Walker followed. Leemar got killed in action and he went mad” “Shit are you guys okay?” “Yeah, Karli got away though. Have you found Zemo?” “I’m nearly at his location” “Okay, we’ll meet you there” and he hung up.

The Dora Milaje must be searching for Zemo too, so you had to get to him first. Finally, the plane lands. You knew exactly where he would be, it was obvious, you didn’t have to check the tracker. The whole of the flight you thought over some options on how to get Zemo away from the Dora. Each time you came to the same conclusion. They would never stop searching for him, not until he breathes his last breath.

You find Zemo standing in front of the memorial that was built for the grieving friends and families after Ultron. You walk next to him. “I thought you’d be here sooner” he says. You ignore him and wrap your arms around his torso. Theres no other options you remind yourself. He places his arms around your shoulders. “I can’t believe you slipped away unnoticed like that” “That house has many secret escape systems, I just used that situation to my advantage” he certainly did. You part from him a little, creating enough space for you to lean into a kiss. “Sam and Bucky are on their way here, and so are the Dora” you press your forehead against his, both your hands leant against his chest. He looks down. You don’t have the strength to look into his eyes.

“We can leave, together, right now.” You stroke the back of his head. “I know”. “Will you come with me?” You sigh parting from him a little further. “Do you trust me, Helmut?” Tears begin to fill your eyes. It felt like a million knives were stabbing into your heart. You knew what you had to do but every inch of your body told you not do it. You hug him one last time and whisper “Close your eyes”. “Why are you cry-“ “Helmut please” you cut him off. The fight against yourself was hard enough already.

He does as you say. You press a kiss between his eyebrows and slowly move way from him. You walk 3 or 4 meters before turning to face Zemo. Reaching behind your back you pull out the cold, black weapon from your strap. You hesitate before pointing the barrel of the gun towards the man you had come to trust despite his past. Your hands were shaking uncontrollably as you place a finger on the trigger. A single tear slips down your cheek as you stand there, your arm raised. Time seems to slow, it didn’t feel real anymore.

Never had you imagined it would come to this but he left you no other choice. An aircraft flies over head; Sam and Bucky must have arrived. “Y/n what are you-“ Zemo was looking at you now. You have waited too long. His eyes widen when he realises what you wanted to do.

“I’m sorry” you pull the trigger.

@killsandthrills @aisling1985 @booklover2929 @noavengers @arianalilyblack @your-pixels-are-showing @kenna-1904 @mochminnie @the-lil-spud @starssscary @safiakillspop

[manikas-whims]

A Place Good Enough

[Read on AO3]

Ship: Kaz Brekker X Inej Ghafa

Summary:

Kaz pays Inej's indenture at the Menagerie and she joins the dregs.

_

A short fic that adds a little more of what happens that night after Kaz takes her with him.

Note:

I'm a new fan and read the SoC Duology this Feb.

This is my first time writing these characters so please excuse anything weird, I tried my best.

Inej may seem a bit scared in this because she isn't the Inej we know in SoC. This will be the first fic of many where I'll try to show our Crows before the events of SoC. A look at their daily lives in the Dregs. And the slow development of feelings between Kanej.

Hope you enjoy this short piece ♥

Kaz

“Let’s start by getting out of here and finding you some proper clothes. Oh, and Inej,” he says, “don't ever sneak up on me again.”

And yet as he ushers the Suli girl out of the salon, the bustling streets remind him how foolish it will be to roam around the barrel at night. Ofcourse a mere glance at his cane and gloved hands is enough to ward people off. No one in Ketterdam dares crossing the young man that goes by the title of Dirtyhands. Even so, it won’t be good for his carefully crafted reputation to be seen limping around at indecent hours with an exotic girl in tow. Dirtyhands doesn’t waste time on frivolous things. He has vengeance to condemn and for that he requires proper focus and meticulous steps. Brick by brick. He reminds himself.

With a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure no one is looking, he removes the deep grey coat he’s adorning and hands it to the girl. He doesn’t miss the way she flinches at the action, probably just as scared of him as the rest of this city.

“Cover yourself.” He commands and continues walking. Thankfully, the girl doesn’t waste time being confused or shocked and quietly does as told. He also notes how she maintains a distance whilst following him but makes sure to stick close enough, her feet soundless despite the bells tied around her dainty ankles.

Inej

Kaz Brekker finally slows his walk as they approach a shabby building in the remote parts of the Barrel. Its lit and noisy but Inej can tell its definitely not a clothing store. And it is only moments later that cold realization dawns on her. There was no release from enslavement to begin with, just a deal struck between a bawd from the west stave and the lieutenant of a notorious gang in the east stave. It was a sham all along. Why wouldn’t it be? Why would one of the most sinister criminals in Kerch buy her out of slavery only to be shifted to an indenture? She should’ve been skeptical. Instead, she had been hopeful because the boy named Dirtyhands is after all, a young one like herself. She thought he may have empathized with her. He had even offered his coat to her. But oh what an utter fool she had been! Everything in Ketterdam comes with a price. Even something as natural as freedom.

Should she sprint away? She can take-off right now. He hasn’t looked back even once to check if she’s there. And he’s a cripple! She can easily outrun him. Yet all these plans formulating in her head are laced around a grim sense of fear. Kaz Brekker doesn’t need a reason. Or so she has heard. He has already earned an ill reputation for being whimsical. She mustn’t start giving him reasons to chase and drag her back down these dark alleys. So she quietly trails behind him as the door opens with a creak.

Men of varying ages who had been busy chatting and drinking, stare at them. His entry seems to raise everyone’s attention as they watch him walk by and approach the staircase. Although that’s all she sees as she continues after the uncaring boy, she does hear numerous brazen remarks.

“Am I too drunk or has Brekker actually brought in a girl?”

“Ghezen! We all must be sloshed.”

“I almost believed something was going on between him and that Zemeni boy.”

“So…Suli huh?”

Some snickers follow this particular remark but the boy doesn’t seem to mind. Does this mean their assumptions aren’t wrong? A wave of panic courses through her but Inej tries to calm herself with deep breaths, tries to focus her mind on the stairs instead. She has faced all sorts of repulsive men in the sheets. Dirtyhands can’t be much different. And even if the rumors aren’t false and he’s part-demon beneath the façade of his sharp suits,  she can still push herself to handle anything. If serving as his mistress will warrant her safety from the likes of Tante Heleen, she can do this. 

A soft clicking sound pulls her out of her trail of anxious thoughts. She notices they’ve walked past several floors and are currently going up into an attic. The inside isn’t much special but appropriately furnished— an old door placed atop several crates acting as a desk, a big window overseeing the surroundings and a door separating what she assumes must be a storage of sorts or a bedroom.

When Brekker finally turns around, his expression as unreadable as ever, Inej shivers. She takes one last gulp of air in hopes of easing herself. She can do this. She just needs to leave her body like she always does. Let the little lynx take care of such matters.

She begins by discarding his coat. Her eyes are lowered to the floor but she can sense his unwavering gaze. Maybe he’s one of those who take pleasure in watching a woman undo herself for him. Or maybe its something else entirely. His stoic demeanor doesn’t provide much to guess. Her shaky hands reach for the hooks in the back of her purple blouse. I can endure this! She mentally assures herself.

“What exactly are you doing?” comes his low voice, like a rasp of stone on stone.

Her hands fumble and come to a halt. She raises her eyelids to find a barely visible, amused smirk marring his pale countenance. “I..thought..I just–”

“Inej, was it?” he interrupts, leaning his weight on his frightening cane shaped like the head of a crow. Did she do something wrong? Will he use it on her? Her shoulders hunch slightly in preparation of whatever is to come. She hears an audible sigh instead. “I don’t remember us agreeing to such terms back at the Menagerie.”

Now she does look up, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh..”

He passes a hand through his hair. “But since you seem eager to–”

“I’m not!” she yells, her cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink. Frankly she doesn’t know how to react. It’s her first time speaking to a man who isn’t demanding any sexual favors from her but isn’t being very nice either.

He hobbles over to the makeshift desk and settles on a chair behind it. “Let me guess,” he starts, resting his bad leg on the tabletop and the cane in his lap. “You didn’t trust me.”

“I did!” she protests like a child  falsely accused of stealing candies. However, the embarrassment of her response follows immediately and she tilts her head down again. “Not truly but–”

“Wrong answer.” His tone is even more gritty now. “Its good that you expected the worst. Never trust anyone in the barrel.”

Inej looks at him again. It’s far too late for that lesson now. She’s learnt it the harshest of ways.

“I may be many things but I keep my word, Inej.” He adds solemnly, then fishes out a lone key from his pants' pocket. “Here” he gestures for her to come forward and receive it.

She scurries to the desk and takes it, her fingers lightly grazing along his gloved ones. Is he sending her on an errand already? Is procuring something important going to be her first task for the Dregs?

“Head downstairs and unlock the room directly below this attic with the key.” He tells simply and starts working on the tall stacks of papers lying on the desk.

She waits for further details but when he says nothing more she inquires herself, “For what?”

He glances at her, a brow quirked as if mocking her obliviousness. “Its your room from now on. Go get some sleep.”

“What about my..services?” she asks.

“We’ll discuss all that tomorrow morning.” He answers and waves her off, willing her to leave already.

Downstairs, upon unlocking an old cream-colored door and switching on the light, Inej is greeted by a tiny room. There’s a window overlooking the barrel, a cot arranged directly below it and an empty trunk lying open. Fortunately, everything is clean and dry and without any trace of smells.

As she steps inside, memories of her old life flash before her bleary eyes. This place is not even close to the large tents she used to perform in with her parents yet for some reason, she feels warm. Its not home but it’s good enough.

Shutting the door, she turns off the light and drops unceremoniously onto the cot. Moonlight illuminates the room- her room- in a dim glow. And slowly it happens. Her tense body relaxes into the mattress and her unshed emotions are set free in the form of tears slipping down her cheeks. Loud sobs rack her small frame as her hands hug the grey coat close to her chest. Amidst her shock and disbelief at actually being saved from sexual exploitation, she must have forgotten to return it. Kaz Brekker’s statement was like a dream she’s had every night since being stolen and shackled. A dream of being saved from the hell that is prostitution. I keep my word, Inej. She giggles at the sound of her real name being called by this stranger, tears staining her lips. She hasn’t heard it in so long that she almost forgot who she was. In letting her body go so as to persevere everyday at the Menagerie, she hadn’t noticed that the lively girl called Inej Ghafa was also withering away. She clutches the coat tighter as if fiercely trying to hold onto her remaining self. And for the first time since an year, she sleeps without the fear of being hurt.

Hope it was enjoyable!

I'm thinking of writing a short sequel drabble where Inej just goes to return Kaz's coat in front of everyone at the Dregs xD

.

SoC Masterlist

( divider by @firefly-graphics )

[honeyedlashton]

Leave Your Mark With Every Bite

Words: 2,949

Warnings: smut, also general anxiousness and anxiety around this whole thing.

Ship: Lashton (I’m so sorry I’m in a mood to write them half broken up)

A/N: this idea hit me in the shower, and I don’t know why I felt the compulsive need to make these two be trainwrecks, but, fuck am I here for it. I need angsty Lashton cause I’ve written too much fluff. So here you go. Here’s some “we shouldn’t be doing this,” for reasons I’ll leave open to interpretation. (I have a few in mind but, not everyone agrees with my sentiments, so I don’t wanna step on toes.) So take it as you will, here’s this toxic ass version of their relationship.

—————————————————————————— 

“i need to see u”

The white letters on the blue bubble stood out. The first non-grey text in a week. Luke shook reading it over. He shook even worse seeing the three little grey dots pop up on the opposite side of the screen.

It was a long time. Too long watching the graceful bouncing of the oversized ellipses. Their grace did nothing to soothe Luke’s mind. It had to have been a full minute l before those grey dots turned into: “On my way now...”

Luke could only guess the horrible things Ashton had erased. It was implied through the passive punctuation. And not for the first time this hour, he felt guilty.

He sat on his couch and hugged his knees to his chest, he was wrapped in his big white hoodie. He was safe, but not really. He was still shaking and racing a million miles a minute.

He found doing nothing made the seconds feel twice as long. So he fidgeted with his guitar. Not really playing anything, just giving his hands something to do. Anything to keep him from thinking too hard about what he was doing. Or why he was feeling guilty at all. He knew he was in the right, so why did he feel so horrible about it?

Eleven minutes was all it took. Enough time to send Luke into multiple spirals, and enough time for Ashton to arrive.

Luke saw the lights in the driveway, and practically threw his guitar out of his lap getting up to race out the door. He grabbed his keys as he left.

It was one of those peculiar times in the mid-spring where it rained in L.A.

Luke didn’t slow down, running up to the passenger door and got inside, barely looking at the illuminated figure that was warm and dry and staring back at him. Music played softly through the speakers, some melancholy soundtrack that seemed to match his mood perfectly. Luke buckled in before either of them could say anything. “Let’s just...drive,” Luke managed after a second, finally looking over at Ashton.

Finally. The interior lights had switched off, but the dashboard’s white lights on the dials made Ashton’s cheek and jawline stand out as he looked back at Luke. Glasses on, hair soft. He looked like the boy Luke loved so much.

He suddenly wanted to cry.

“Okay,” Ashton nodded, and reversed back out of the driveway. Silent and stoic. Two things Luke knew Ashton rarely was. Tonight was the exception.

The roads were almost empty, but not. Empty for L.A. Empty for 2 am on a fresh Friday. Empty for a pandemic. But not really empty at all. Luke could barely hear the music over the sound of the rain and the engine and the road, but it didn’t bother him. Being surrounded by these familiar things—Ashton’s leather seats, the smell of his air freshener, the smell of him—made Luke feel safe in a way the hoodie just couldn’t.

“Do you hate me?” Luke asked after they’d turned out of his suburbs.

Ashton scoffed in a way that showed real amusement. “Of course I don’t hate you. Whether the feeling is mutual or not’s the real question, though.”

Luke didn’t answer for a second. “I want to. I wish I could.”

Ashton nodded like he’d been expecting that answer, and just drove on at a green light.

“Don’t be worried.” Luke knew he was, “there’s still lots of love keeping me from thinking about it too hard.”

“Where am I driving us?” Ashton asked, even though he had already made a few of the decisions already.

“Beach.”

Ashton’s expression didn’t change, and he just drove on.

“I hate when you do that.”

“Do what?” Ashton asked.

“Not answer me,” Luke huffed, and realized only before Ashton looked at him just how hypocritical he sounded. “I have an excuse...”

Ashton sighed. “I know...”

“I don’t wanna talk about that,” Luke grumbled. “Any of this shit. I texted you for a reason you know.”

“Why did you text me?” He didn’t sound hostile, just tired.

“I miss you.”

Almost like that was what he had been waiting for, Ashton’s hand dropped from the steering wheel and reached for Luke’s in his lap. His fingers were chilly from the air conditioner, but then again so we’re Luke’s. He pressed their palms together like Ashton was a lifeline. He felt his angst deflate in his chest. And he even reached to turn up the radio.

Its about a forty minute drive to the beach, and Luke knew this before asking. But he needed to see something other than his house, and right now, everything looked better than that. But the ocean was the only thing Luke loved to look at. Even at night, even in the rain.

The horizon was vast and open. The gradient of dark grey above faded to light grey as the clouds above hit nearly pitch black water. Ashton parked in front of it. An empty parking lot overlooking the grand beach. Their spot.

As soon as Ashton’s car was in park Luke nearly jumped into his arms, without words, without unbuckling. His lips found Ashton’s in the dim light, and Ashton’s didn’t shy away. All that was on his mind at that moment was savoring the feeling. The taste. The idea of having him this close. His Ashton.

Ashton only broke their kiss after a second to cut off the headlights and unbuckle his seatbelt. “Luuu...” Ashton groaned. “What are we doing?”

“Anything you’ll let me do,” Luke whined against his lips, unhappy that they kept getting interrupted.

“Not what I mean,” Ashton murmured.

Luke knew that, by the way he pulled away as he spoke.

“Luke...” Ashton urged.

“Please...” Luke whined looking at Ashton’s silhouette in the dark. Without any lights in the car, or streetlights around, it was hard to see anything at all. “Please, don’t ruin it. I need you...” tears pricked his eyes as he spoke, and he felt the lump rise in his throat.

And whether Ashton could see Luke’s eyes water in the dark, or he decided to give in, Ashton met Luke’s passion with a vengeance.

Luke felt Ashton’s nimble fingers fidget clumsily with Luke’s seatbelt buckle before he felt himself finally free from it. He wasted no time climbing over Ashton’s lap. It was awkward, it hurt his knees, but, god...he needed this, and he wasn’t talking himself out of it. He wasn’t letting Ashton talk him out out of it. He deserved to be reckless.

Ashton’s lips broke away from his and he immediately wanted to cry again, till he felt soft open lips pressed to that sweet spot on Luke’s neck. Hot and dizzying and stirring his nerves into a frenzy. He sighed with his eyes going out of focus. “Oh, Ash...” he whispered.

The prickle of Ashton’s stubble poked at Luke’s neck, and it jolted him in ways his own facial hair couldn’t. Luke found his hands tangled in the soft black curls. Even though he couldn’t see them, he’d remembered how fluffy it had been. He smelled like his shampoo and conditioner. He melted a little more at the familiarity, and tugged the locks in his fists.

“Fuck,” Ashton hissed. His arms tightened around Luke’s waist, and hands ghosted over his round bum in his shorts.

“Fuck me,” Luke whimpered, but he knew Ashton must have been expecting it. “Right here. I don’t care. I need you. I’m sorry.” Every sentence punctuated an inhale or exhale.

Ashton was seemingly two steps ahead, maneuvering the seat back, and Luke down with him. “I thought you’d never ask...” he leaned up to chase Luke’s lips again, which were happy to find his. Eager even. Just like Luke’s hands were to find the zipper of Ashton’s jeans.

Luke hadn’t fucked in a car very many times in his life, but he’d done it enough to know how to slide his partner’s pants down without moving more than necessary. It was a skill he was proud of. It was a skill he showcased now.

They were ill-prepared for this task. No lube. Just a condom in Ashton’s wallet and hopefully enough combined spit to not split Luke in half.

He wore his hoodie, while his shorts wadded uncomfortably around only one of his knees, as it pressed into the seatbelt buckle on Ashton’s side. But Luke wasn’t picky—at least he refused to be right now.

He felt high. He felt drunk. He felt relieved to kiss Ashton and feel his kiss back. He’d spent nights dreaming of being this close again, but only after the thousands of daydreams of killing him faded with the sunset.

Luke pushed back on Ashton’s three fingers. Eager. Hungry for touch. Hungry for only Ashton’s touch.

And just like he’d hoped, Ashton reminded him of that. “Missed me so much...couldn’t stand to be away from daddy could you?”

Luke shook his head. “Uh-uh,” he blushed across his nose. He was finally getting stimulation and degradation. It was basically the perfect day, minus his anxiousness. “Needed daddy. M-missed him so much...”

Ashton purred softly and kissed behind Luke’s ear. The heat ran directly down Luke’s spine and pooled in his tummy. “Well, daddy’s right here. Gonna fill you up and make you forget all about it,” he scissored his fingers one last time, before pulling out.

Luke whined, feeling empty and cold again, but that was only before Ashton placed the familiar thick tip against him. He practically rolled his eyes back like he hadn’t felt it in months. And officially he hadn’t...but if shit like this counted... well, then that was a different answer.

He rocked his hips back against Ashton, and panted, “please, please,” he whimpered and begged. “I’ll be so good. I promise...”

“‘Please, please’ what, baby? What are you asking for?” Ashton’s voice dripped with condescension, and Luke knew the week of leaving Ashton on read was coming back to haunt him.

“Your c-cock...” Luke hiccuped. “Need it...”

“Well you got it right there, sweetheart. What more could you want?”

“Want it inside me. Want you inside, right now...”

“Yeah? You sure you don’t wanna think about it some more? Don’t wanna make me wait a little longer?”

“Nuh-Uh...” Luke shook his head rapidly. “Just want you inside me, please...”

Ashton wasn’t a torturer, and Luke knew that. He wasn’t one to make Luke beg too much when he was this distraught. So he pushed up into him at that last “please” and Luke had to struggle to catch his breath.

“Oh! Mmm!” He gasped and furrowed his brows. Ashton’s hands splayed large and steady over part of Luke’s bum and the small of his back, as if guiding him to move. As if Luke needed the help.

“Goddamnit...” Ashton gulped and, Luke’s eyes must have adjusted to the complete dark, cause he could see a little shape of Ashton’s jaw, as he tossed his head back. “Why the fuck did I ever agree to let you go?”

“Shhh, daddy...” Luke whispered and kissed at Ashton’s cheek, when he thought he was aiming for his lips again. “Don’t ruin it...”

Ashton only seemed to get worse then. He gripped Luke’s skin under the hoodie, to the point it felt like he’d bruise. “Then remind me whose pussy this is...” Ashton growled, crashing his hips up against Luke’s small circular movements.

Luke felt it brush against his spot, only that once. And then he was left to chase it on his own again. The whine he’d let out was pathetic. And it didn’t answer Ashton’s question at all.

“Huh?” Ashton smacked his bum, and the clap of skin on skin stung in their ears only briefly since the car absorbed so much sound. “Tell me...”

“Yours, daddy...” Luke whined, cheeks hot.

“My what? Use your words”

“Your pussy. It belongs to you...” Luke hiccuped without remorse.

Ashton snapped his hips up again and Luke felt the white heat rush all over his body. Luke chased it, throwing his hips down like he couldn’t take it anymore.

Ashton panted out moans and crashed their lips together. All lips and teeth and tangling tongues in the darkness, but it was heat. And it felt and smelled and sounded like Ashton, so Luke would take everything he could.

He whined into the kiss, his body basically overheating the closer he got. The music on the radio subsumed the random thoughts in Luke’s head, at least the only ones not actively chasing release. His legs ached, his body felt ridged and achy, but he didn’t stop.

And all at once he didn’t remember the bad shit. He didn’t remember the problems or the reason they were forced apart. All there was, was them both holding each other for all of eternity.

“You’re slacking,” Ashton growled though his breaths were short, “pick up the pace, princess.”

Luke whined and dug down to do it despite the protest in his thighs. Because in reality, he loved when Ashton pushed him. He craved the approval too much to protest. “M trying,” he pouted.

“Well do better. You asked for daddy’s cock, so at least act like you want it.”

Luke blushed and slammed his hips down and he could tell by the way Ashton sighed he did perfectly right. “That’s more like it...” he purred. “That’s the little bunny I know...”

Luke hugged Ashton’s shoulders and buried himself further into his neck. Panting the warm heat of Ashton’s cologne and his own breath recycled back at him till it was suffocating. “There! There!” He clung to him with a desperate whine, nosing behind his ear. He wanted complete closeness. If he could press their chests within each other and wrap Ashton’s ribs around his, he would. And Ashton hugged him back just as feverishly.

The tidal wave of orgasm hit him hot and fast. And Ashton seemed to notice before any words could tumble out of his mouth. He was already kissing at Luke’s jaw. “Cum, baby. It’s okay...” he murmured against his skin. Luke melted into that, spilling all over his tummy under his hoodie with a pathetic whine. And then it was Ashton’s turn to groan and cum between pants of pleasure and heat exhaustion.

The rain had picked up at some point in their throes, and now drummed down on the car with loud taps. The radio seemed quiet by comparison. Only their heavied breaths really stood a chance against the backdrop of sound.

“Lu...” Ashton whispered after they had calmed, their bodies still pressed together in a lovers embrace.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

It hurt to hear. But Luke knew it would have hurt him more not to hear it.

“I love you, too...”

Ashton sighed like he’d deflated and shifted under Luke. It took every ounce of strength the blonde boy had to push himself away from Ashton so he could sit the seat back up.

“We have to stop doing this,” Ashton said softly. Not reprimanding him. He got a napkin from the glove compartment and lifted Luke’s hoodie to clean him up. It was like clockwork. Luke came to expect that phrase now after meeting up in secret.

“I know.”

“I have to stop saying yes. But you’re so easy to give into,” Ashton pouted.

“I know.”

“We have to be—.”

“Please don’t say it,” Luke pleaded, and the tears he’d been pushing down welled up again. “Please. I don’t want you to talk about it, I don’t wanna think about it. I just want you, and I don’t want to think about the consequences of my goddamn actions for once! Please...I already know. So will you just hold me and tell me everything’s going to be okay without taking it back?” The rain of Luke’s tears fell down his cheeks and landed somewhere into the void of darkness.

“Okay...”

“Okay. Because I love you, and I hate you. And I can’t let you go...” he sobbed into Ashton’s neck. He wasn’t too surprised to feel Ashton’s arms wrap around him. They always did when Luke was in pain. Even when they were the two most opposed people on the planet.

Luke found it so annoying.

But he just hugged Ashton closer, crying harder. “I wish you hated me. I wish we could break it off and go our separate ways for good.”

Ashton pet his hair, and it annoyed him more.

“Don’t you think I’ve been a bitch? Aren’t you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not. I’m worried. I want you. I wish that we didn’t have to—. I wish things were different.”

The problem was, Luke could tell that Ashton was telling the truth. And it hurt even worse. “Well wishing isn’t gonna make it any better.” He stared at the foggy windows. “Let’s stay here tonight. I can’t sleep without you.” He admitted petulantly. Like a kid in time out.

Ashton cut off the car at that, and held Luke close. “Then we’ll stay...”

Luke unsurprisingly only thought about the consequences that would lie in wait for them tomorrow, but for now he was safe. And warm. And familiar. And coming down from so many intense emotions that he just didn’t care. He let them drift off with every flourish of Ashton’s feather light touch on his back.

“Don’t ever let this moment end.” Luke whispered into the gentle thrum of Ashton’s pulse as he faded into sleep. And he knew if Ashton really loved him he’d lie.

And right before the tendrils of sleep took him under, he heard the gentle confirmation in two words:

“Never ever.”

[silverlightqueen]

Song Request

'I just wish the cost of her happiness wasn’t my own.’

Jungkook x reader - smut, angst, a little bit of fluff, a pathetic attempt at some humour and a bit of cheese lmao

Part of ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo!

Rating: 18 (graphic sex and mature themes)

Word Count: 11.5k+ 

Warnings - there’s quite a few, please read carefully! infidelity, illness (Parkinson’s disease) and discussion of death, brief mention of drugs, dom!JK and sub!reader, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), pain kink, brief asphyxiation, JK has a big cock (and tattoos), hickeys, explicit dirty talk, degradation and praise, multiple orgasms, fingering, (ridiculously) rough sex, (kind of) soft sex, sad sex, brief mention of punishment, impregnation kink, possessiveness, hand-holding during sex, semi-toxic relationship, I think that’s it but please let me know if you notice that I missed something!

a/n: hey guys !! this is my first Bulletproof Bingo fic and I’m super excited to write some more fics for this event! I really like this fic, it’s one of my favourites that I’ve ever written, so I hope you all really enjoy it too! thank you to the love of my life @silverlightprincess for proof-reading this at 2am this morning and making me even more excited to post it by saying it’s one of the best things I’ve ever written (you’re the best and I love you). I’m like 99.999% sure that I’m gonna do a part two to this so please lmk if you like it bc it will motivate me to actually write the part two lol x

silverlightqueen masterlist

‘You really shouldn’t be here,’ I sigh as I lean against the doorframe, trying to avoid meeting his eyes. ‘I know but… I had to come. I had to see you one more time,’ he says gently, and I look down either side of the corridor to make sure it’s empty before I let him in. The hotel is crawling with our friends and family, and I’m sure they’d have some questions seeing Jungkook outside of my room.

I move to the side, and I can sense the grin on his face without even looking up at him as he brushes past me. I shut the door behind him, and when I turn back around, he’s sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at me. He’s dressed in a loose white t-shirt, revealing the black ink curling up his hands and arms, and a pair of grey sweatpants, the black Gucci sliders that I bought him for his last birthday on his feet.

‘Have you been crying?’ he asks, voice soft, and I nod, feeling the tears flooding my eyes again. ‘Oh, baby, please don’t cry. It breaks my heart when you cry,’ he says, voice strained, and he holds out a hand to me. Every time he does this, the voices in my head get louder, and it’s an internal struggle to see what I’ll do.

‘Don’t do this again.’ ‘You’ve done it before, one more time won’t make a difference.’ ‘You’re only hurting yourself, making it worse for yourself.’ ‘He’s hurting, and you can take his pain away.’ ‘He can’t love you.’ ‘He loves you.’

And the same voice always wins.

I put my hand in his, the familiar smirk appearing on his face, like he knew what I’d do, like he always knows what I’ll do. He tugs my hand, pulling me towards him, and he spreads his legs, allowing me to stand between them. He tilts his head back to look up at me (though he’s not much shorter – these hotel beds are ridiculously high), and lifts his hands to wipe away the tears running down my face.

‘Don’t cry,’ he whispers again, before pulling me against him, his strong tattooed arms holding me close, his face buried in my chest as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. ‘Will you let me make it better?’ he asks, voice muffled against the white satin of my dressing gown, the words ‘Bride Squad’ embroidered across the back of it, and I hesitate, the voices getting louder again.

‘You can stop. You can turn him away.’ ‘What’s the point? You’ve done this so many times before.’ ‘This time’s different, and you know it is.’ ‘This might be your last time. Why would you turn him away?’ ‘Be the good person. Don’t do this.’ ‘You deserve one last time.’

‘Please,’ I breathe out, and his fingers tug at the belt of my gown, letting it fall open, and he sucks in a breath. ‘White lingerie? Anyone would think you’re the bride,’ he whispers, fingers skimming over my exposed skin before he pushes the gown off my shoulders. His words hurt, and he knows they do, but I shake them off. ‘I was trying it on, ready for tomorrow. I have to wear white, because of my dress,’ I say evenly, and his eyes flit up to where my dress hangs up on the outside of the wardrobe.

‘Such a pretty dress. I love you in blue,’ he murmurs, my heart fluttering at the praise. ‘Get on the bed for me, angel,’ he says, words laced with dominance, and I instantly lie on the bed beside where he sits. He doesn’t waste much time, getting up and shrugging off his t-shirt before climbing over me, lips ghosting over my neck and jaw.

‘Don’t you dare put marks on me,’ I say as my fingers tangle into his soft curly locks, and he chuckles against my skin. ‘Can’t you just cover them up with makeup?’ ‘No, the makeup will rub off onto my dress.’ ‘What if I put marks on your boobs? No one will see them there,’ he says, lips trailing down to my collarbones. ‘But it hurts.’ ‘You like it when it hurts, baby,’ he says with a raised eyebrow, looking up at me, and I roll my eyes. He takes that as a sign to do as he pleases, hands sliding beneath my back to unclasp my bra, pulling the straps off my arms and throwing it over his shoulder. His head ducks down to my breasts, and he doesn’t take care to be gentle, biting and sucking on the skin harshly, coaxing shaky breaths and whimpers from me.

Once he’s deemed the faint marks that are beginning to appear sufficient, his lips trail further down my body. ‘So pretty. You’re so pretty,’ he mumbles against me, my skin tingling where he touches it. His movements become more and more desperate with each moment, as though he’s scared I’m going to leave, but we both know I’m not going anywhere.

‘What’d you want, baby?’ he asks, like he always does, and I sigh, because he already knows. ‘You. I want you,’ I breathe out, and he stills with his lips on the seam of my pants. ‘Be more specific, angel.’ ‘For fuck’s sake, JK, I want your cock,’ I say, voice laced with desperation, and he chuckles against the white lace. ‘Gotta get you wet first,’ he says, and a breath escapes my lips as he looks up at me, lip caught between his teeth, eyes dark with desire. ‘You want that, baby? Want me to eat you out?’ he asks, and I nod, before whispering, ‘yes… please.’

‘Whatever you want, angel,’ he says, pulling my pants down my legs, leaving me fully exposed to his hungry eyes, the desire in his gaze making me shiver. He spreads my legs before lifting them, moving closer to me and letting them fall over his shoulders, giving him total access to where I need him most. He swipes the pad of his finger against my folds, a shaky breath falling from my lips as he holds his finger to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste, and he lets out an appreciative hum.

‘Taste so good. Better than her,’ he says, unable to help himself like always, and I freeze. He knows it hurts when he does this, and he does it anyway, because it inflates his ego every time. ‘What the fuck, JK?’ I spit, moving my legs from his shoulders and recoiling in on myself. He lets out a gentle chuckle, leaning on his forearms, as he looks up at me, not one hint of guilt in his face. No, he’s lucky. I’m the one that gets all the guilt.

‘It’s not funny. I hate it when you do that, Kook,’ I mumble, and a little grin appears on his lips. ‘Sorry, baby,’ he says, words dripping with amusement, not even trying to be sincere. ‘Don’t say it if you don’t mean it,’ I spit, and his grin grows even wider. ‘Bastard,’ I mutter, and he lets out another chuckle, seeming to find this situation hilarious, when in actuality, it’s far from it.

Silence falls over the room, his eyes on me, as I stare unseeingly at my hands. I really hate him sometimes. How can he be so bold to joke about this, when it’s so wrong? I will myself to have the strength to send him back to his room, to tell him to just go fuck himself, but I know I never will, and he knows it too, which is why he insists on pushing the boundaries. According to him, guilty sex is the best sex. How he knows that, I’m not sure. He never seems to feel the guilt that practically eats me up.

This is always the worst bit. I’ve done this enough times to know how this goes, to know the stages of our time together. He lures me in with sweet compliments and sad eyes, before he pulls some kind of dick move, to test me. To give me an out. Though we both know I’ll never take it. I’m never strong enough. And then he gives a pitiful attempt at making it up to me.

‘Are you done sulking yet, or should I just go?’ he says, and my eyes flit up to meet his, dark and chocolaty, smooth and bright. I stare at him for a few moments, waiting for him to melt and apologise properly, wondering if he will this time.

‘I’m sorry, y/n. I know I shouldn’t joke, but it makes it easier for me,’ he says, sounding sincere, yet his eyes are unreadable, making it difficult to tell whether he’s saying it because he’s sorry or because I’m naked in front of him and his dick is straining against his boxers. ‘But it makes it harder for me,’ I say, almost pleadingly, though my words may be falling on deaf ears. It’s hard to tell when he’ll listen to me, actually truly listen to me, and take my words on board, or whether he’ll pretend as though he has so that he can get his dick wet.

It’s hard to tell whether he loves me sometimes.

‘I know, baby, I’m sorry, I really am. I won’t do it again, I promise,’ he says softly, and I nod, wondering how long it’ll take him to break his promise again. We sit in silence for a few more moments, and I can’t tear my eyes away from his. ‘You forgiven me yet?’ he asks, all of the false remorse gone from his face now, replaced by an amused smirk and dark eyes. And I want to be angry at him, I really do. But my will to feel him is stronger. ‘Mmhmm,’ I reply, and he grins, reaching an inked-up hand out to my leg, and pulling me down the bed.

As soon as I’m lying down, he’s on top of me again, his lips meeting mine for the first time since he entered the room. No one has ever kissed me better than Jungkook, and I very much doubt anyone ever will. His lips are soft, yet his mouth is rough against mine, his tongue gliding over my own, making me number with every movement. And when he pulls one of my lips between his teeth, so hard he draws blood, it’s game over, my mind turning to mush as he laves his tongue over where blood blooms from my sensitive skin. If kissing were a sport, Jungkook would win first place, like he does with everything else.

But it doesn’t last for long. Whilst he’s an expert at pretty much everything, he loses interest quicker than children do. Even more so when I’m moaning against his mouth and grinding up into him desperately. He breaks away from me, lips taking the same path down my body as a few moments ago, but this time, he reaches his destination. As though he can’t waste another moment, he throws my legs over his shoulders and licks a broad stripe up my slit.

‘So wet for me, angel. Always so wet for me,’ he exhales, warm breath fanning out over where I need him most, and I let out a desperate moan. ‘You want my mouth?’ he asks teasingly, and I nod, looking down at him impatiently, his eyes shining with mischief. ‘Beg.’ I let out a frustrated sigh, hating that he pushes me so far, so stubborn that he’ll never be the one to give in because he knows that I will. I always will.

‘Jungkook, please. Need your mouth, need you to make me cum,’ I plead, tone lined with defeat, and he gives me an impish grin before his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He ducks his head but doesn’t do anything, and my fingers tangle into his hair to prompt him. ‘Such a pretty pussy, baby,’ he compliments, and I eat it up, letting his shitty generic praise soothe my pain.

‘Jungkook, please,’ I whisper again, and he chuckles before his tongue dips between my folds. I let out a broken moan as the pleasure builds, his ministrations making me squirm beneath him. ‘So sensitive for me,’ he says against me, lips enveloping my heat, tongue poking between my folds before he moves to suck at my clit, teeth scraping against the bud to push me even further.

‘Yes, fuck, feels so good,’ I whine, voice shaky as I run my nails over his scalp, head falling back into the pillow, back arching up into the cool breeze blowing in from the open balcony doors. His hands slide under my lower back and he pulls me even closer towards him, trying desperately to get deeper and deeper, suffocating himself with me.

‘Oh. Oh, God,’ I breathe out, and he hums into me, the vibrations sending a wave of bliss washing over me, and I let out a moan of his name. And that’s what pushes him, what always pushes him. He loves his name on my lips, and he loses all restraint, lapping, no, slurping at me with desperation. Every movement is greedy, desperate, full of lust so strong it seeps into me too, loud moans and obscene squelching filling the room.

His tongue delves into me, nose nestling against my clit, and it’s euphoria, absolute euphoria, my hands tugging at his hair to bring him closer, impossibly closer, and he complies, making me whimper with delight. And then his movements begin to slow, and I know where this goes.

‘So good. Tastes so good. So sweet for me, baby,’ he says when he breaks away, the bottom half of his face shining with my essence, lips drenched with me. He doesn’t even give me a chance to plead, to complain, to beg him, before his index finger begins teasing at my clit, flicking the bud gently. Slowly, impossibly slowly, his finger trails down to my folds before pushing between them, and my walls tighten around the digit.

‘Stop clenching. If you can’t take one finger, how will you take my cock? Huh? Gotta stop clenching,’ he murmurs, voice soothing as his finger pumps in and out leisurely, and I nod, my hands falling from his head and clutching at the sheets instead. He gradually speeds up, his finger being joined by another and making me whimper, body shuddering as he scissors his fingers, attempting to stretch me open.

Without warning, he ducks his head to suck at my clit, and I cry out as his fingers fuck into me, my body working of its own will to get away from him because it just feels too damn good, so good it hurts. ‘Stop moving, or I’ll spread you over my lap instead. I might not have my belt, but my hand works just fine,’ he threatens, lips moving against my clit, and I tense, trying not to move.

‘I’m gonna…’ I trail off, biting down onto my lip, my eyes screwed shut as he curls his fingers against my soft walls. ‘You’re gonna cum? Is that right, angel?’ he asks, and I nod, not trusting myself to open my mouth to reply, knowing only moans of his name will come out, and it’s too dangerous. Her room is right across the hall.

And then he adds another finger, the three digits stretching me wider, so wide it hurts. I let out a whimper of pain, and he chuckles, his breath fanning out over my stomach. ‘Don’t complain, baby, you like it when it hurts. My little slut can only get off if it hurts, right?’ he asks, fingers ramming into me without any concern for how it hurts, hurts so fucking bad. So bad it has me balling the sheets up into my fists, my back arching up from the bed, moans falling from my lips, so desperate for more. ‘Cum for me, baby,’ he whispers, before attaching his lips to my clit again, his fingers curling one last time, drawing an incredibly intense orgasm out of me.

My entire body tenses as I let out a long, drawn-out moan, his fingers and mouth still working to prolong my high, and I clench around him, so tight his fingers are caught inside me. Once he feels me coming down, relaxing around his digits, he practically rips them out of me, a shudder racking through my body as I watch him lick my cum off his tattooed skin.

‘I’m so hard, so fucking hard for you,’ he spits out, his body radiating frantic energy as he pushes himself up from the bed, hastily pushing his sweatpants down his legs, quickly followed by his underwear, his hard length slapping up to hit his stomach, red and swollen and leaking with precum. The desperation in every movement of his tells me that this is the moment he’d do anything I asked of him. The moment he loves me most.

He climbs back onto the bed, hovering over me again, and surprises me by pressing his lips to mine again. Usually, nothing comes before his cock filling me up, but I’m pleasantly surprised at the kiss, no matter how sloppy it is. I can taste myself in his mouth, my own essence dancing across my taste buds, and his hands dig into my sides so hard I know they’ll bruise.

‘Why is your hair in braids? I like pulling your hair when it’s out,’ he murmurs against my mouth, sounding like a little kid, his words making me laugh. ‘She prefers my hair wavy, said wavy hair looks prettier with flowers in it,’ I reply, lips moving against his as I speak, and he laughs. ‘Flowers in your hair, huh? Gives me something pretty to look at when you get on your knees for me tomorrow,’ he says, words dripping with arrogance, and I pull away from him, annoyed.

‘What? Oh, sorry. You’re the pretty thing I’ll be looking at, not the flowers,’ he grins proudly, completely misreading me, and I let out a huff. ‘I’m not sucking you off tomorrow,’ I say, and he frowns, eyes still full of amusement. He seems to find everything endlessly funny. ‘Why not, baby? You owe me.’ ‘You know why not. This is the last time, Jungkook,’ I say, and he doesn’t react for a few moments, just staring at me unreadably, before he rolls his eyes, a grin spreading across his lips. ‘Okay. Let’s make it a good one, then,’ he whispers, eyes darkening, a fresh wave of arousal flooding out from my core as I nod, Jungkook pressing a brief kiss to my lips.

‘Hands and knees, angel,’ he instructs, moving off me to stand beside the bed, and I grin to myself, hastily turning onto my front. My hands and knees dig into the mattress, a little shaky with how weak my body is after my orgasm, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice – or doesn’t care about – how tired I am, just teasing my folds with the tip of his rock-hard cock. ‘No condom?’ I ask breathlessly, and he chuckles before pushing the tip in, stretching me out with a deliciously painful burn. ‘Fuck a condom. Wanna feel you clench around my fat cock. Gonna fuck a baby into you,’ he spits out, his words making me gush around him as I let out a breathy moan, and he chuckles.

‘My little slut loves the sound of that, huh? You want my baby? Wanna be nice and round with my baby?’ he asks, voice harsh and low, but I’m struggling to focus on his words, my mind occupied by the feeling of his tip inside me. ‘Answer me, or the tip is all you’ll get. I can cum easily; it’s harder for you,’ he threatens, and I know he’d make good of it too. ‘Yes, yes, want your baby, JK, please fuck me, need your cock,’ I say mindlessly, the words just falling from my lips without thought because I’m so desperate that my entire body aches for him.

‘Good girl. That’s my good girl. My pretty little baby,’ he says, voice soft and soothing, and I’ve gotten used to how quick his entire disposition switches, the change no longer giving me whiplash like it used to. He slowly sinks into me, the painful stretch prompting a sob to be torn from my throat, and he rubs my back soothingly as he bottoms out. ‘So big,’ I whimper, and he chuckles. ‘Mmhmm, my cock’s way too big for you, but you take it so well, angel, so fucking well,’ he praises as he stays still inside me, allowing me to adjust.

‘Please, JK, move,’ I plead, and his hands stop rubbing, gripping onto my waist instead. ‘Sure?’ he asks, though I can feel that he’s practically itching to fuck me. ‘Yes, need you,’ I breathe out, and he doesn’t hesitate any longer, pulling out of me before slamming back in, winding me. He’s ruthless, pounding into me so hard that his balls slap against my thighs, hands digging into my waist, both our skin damp with sweat.

I arch my back, and he leans forward over me, grabbing my two French braids in one hand, tugging on them to hold my head up, the pull only slightly painful. He fucks into me, hard, with no restraint, my head bent back at an uncomfortable angle, my moans projecting around the room. ‘Does my slut like it when I fuck you like this? Like it when I fuck you like the little bitch you are?’ he asks, my moans answer enough it seems, a strained chuckle falling from his lips.

He props one foot up on the bed, allowing him to hammer into me at a bruising pace, cock filling me up completely, having me completely blissed out. ‘You take my cock so well, angel, so fucking well. You take it like a little slut,’ he breathes out between grunts, and it’s forceful, it’s vicious, it’s primal the way he’s fucking me, so good I can’t think of anything but him, and how fucking amazing his cock is.

My arms give way before I can realise how much they ache, and I fall face first into the sheets. ‘Oh, baby, are you tired?’ he asks gently, his cock stilling inside me, and I try to lift myself back up, desperate to feel him again. ‘No, stop,’ he says, turning me over, his dick slipping out in the process. When I’m on my back, I look up at him and my heart flutters. His dark hair is damp and curly, his pupils completely blown out with lust, his lips pink and swollen, his cheeks flushed, and his entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

He pauses for a moment, eyes flitting over my body like how an artist admires their work, and I know he’s revelling in how fucked out I am, how wrecked he’s made me, my chest heaving and my entire body radiating hot desire. And there’s something in his eyes, something else, something different. Something affectionate, soft, sad. And that feeling seeps into me, knowing that this is the last time I can feel his touch, the last time I can get tangled up with him in the sheets.

The moment passes and his eyes harden once more, his hands sliding beneath my slick body and lifting me up into his toned arms, my legs coming up around his waist instinctually. He carries me over to the door, his strength astounding me all over again, my fingers running over the ridges of his muscles. He pushes me up against the door, my legs still clamped around him, and his hands roam over my body.

‘Won’t someone hear if you fuck me here?’ I ask, my lips against his collarbones, and he chuckles. ‘That’s the whole point. Isn’t her room right across the hall? Maybe she can learn what good sex sounds like,’ he says amusedly, and my heart doesn’t sink this time. It was only a matter of time before he brought her up again. In all honesty, it took him longer than I expected.

He doesn’t even give me a chance to reply before he sinks into me, my face contorting with pleasure beneath his intense gaze. He pulls out, still watching my reactions, before pushing back in at an agonisingly slow pace. He rocks into me, cock dragging against my walls leisurely, and I can feel it even more like this, can feel every inch filling me up and stretching me out.

‘Fuck, so good, so fucking good,’ I moan loudly, and he pushes two fingers into my mouth. ‘Gotta be quiet. We’ll get a noise complaint, and I don’t wanna rush. Like taking my time with you, like ruining you slowly, like making you a fucked out little bitch desperate for my cock. Isn’t that what you want, angel? Want me to fuck you nice and slow?’ he whispers against my ear, and I let out a moan around his fingers, gushing all over his thighs.

He takes this as a yes, grinning devilishly as he fucks me deep, swollen head scraping against the soft spongy spot inside me, and I whimper and whine around his fingers as he lets out sinfully soft grunts and groans against my neck. He’s usually so rash, so hasty, so eager, very rarely fucking me slow like this, both of us savouring every thrust.

I clench around him and he grins, bringing a tattooed hand to rest at the base of my neck, fingers still in my mouth. ‘Feels good?’ he asks, and I nod enthusiastically, a little laugh falling from his lips. ‘Of course it does. No one can fuck you like this. No one can fuck you like I fuck you. My good little slut, only mine. I own you, baby. This pussy is mine,’ he whispers, the dirty words combined with the slow drags of his cock against my walls making me sob around his fingers, a grin spreading across his lips.

His hand around my neck tightens, cutting off my airways slightly, and I let out an unintelligible string of curses around his fingers, my breathing quickly becoming laboured. I clench around him sporadically, quickly feeling my high approaching, and he can feel it too, his hands disappearing from my neck and mouth, coming to rest at my waist instead.

‘So pretty, baby, so beautiful and good for me. Love your pussy, feels so good. Love having sex with you. So lucky I get to touch you, taste you, fuck you,’ he whispers between groans, and I let out whimpers at his words.

His touches across my body are featherlight and soft, his thrusts slow and deep, and he breathes out compliments and gentle words against my skin. And then I realise that he’s no longer fucking me. He’s making love to me.

He leans forward, capturing my lips with his in a kiss, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders, hands tangling into his hair. I feel myself reaching my climax quicker than ever as our lips move together, tongues and teeth clashing in the desperate and passionate kiss. He swallows my moans, and when they get more and more frequent, he breaks away from me.

‘Close, angel?’ he asks, and I nod, my eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his body rolling against mine, thrusts slow and deep. ‘So close, baby, feels so good. So fucking good, Jungkook,’ I breathe out and his hand reaches down to rub at my clit as he continues thrusting into me, the tip dragging against the soft spongy part inside me. The feeling is so euphoric, the pleasure rendering my mind black of everything but Jungkook, my body melting into his, our chests pressed together.

‘Come on, baby, cum for me. Wanna feel you clenching around me, baby, you’re so close. Cum for me, angel,’ he whispers into my ear before pressing his lips to mine, these soft and loving words so unlike anything he’s ever said to me before that they push me over the edge as I let out a loud moan of his name against his mouth, as a mind-numbing orgasm washes over me.

My vision turns blank, head empty as white noise fills my ears, pussy clenched around him in a vice-like grip, and he continues to rub at my clit to draw out the pleasure. Once I feel myself coming down, I pull his hand away before interlocking it with mine, a smile breaking across his face as our eyes lock together in a gentle gaze.

‘I love you, y/n,’ he whispers softly, and the words bring tears to my eyes, because I’ve never heard him say them before. Not to me, anyway. His smile falls slightly when I don’t answer, my whole body frozen, before I reply without even thinking; ‘I love you, too, Jungkook.’

His smile reappears with force, filling his face with such joy that it makes the tears spill out over my cheeks as I laugh. ‘I love you. I fucking love you, y/n. I love you so much,’ he whispers again and again, both of us completely still, our hands still locked together.

My walls still flutter around him with the aftershocks of my orgasm. ‘Shall I stop? Are you too sensitive?’ he asks, my heart melting as more tears run down my face. ‘No, want you to cum,’ I reply, and he lets out a curse, beginning to thrust into me again.

I keep clenching around him involuntarily, and I reach down my free hand to play with his balls, my other hand still in his tight grip. ‘Come on, baby, you’re so close. Cum for me,’ I whisper before pressing my lips to his briefly, digging my heels into his back to hold him in place, deep inside me, his dick twitching. He buries his head into my neck and lets out a strangled moan of my name as he cums inside me, painting my walls with his hot, thick release. His hips stutter as he tries to prolong his orgasm, my hand still playing with his balls, his whole body tense.

Once he’s come down from his orgasm, his body relaxes and I remove my hand from his balls, my other hand still clasped in his and his head still nestled in my neck. He wraps his arms around me, carrying me over to the bed and laying me down carefully before disappearing into the bathroom. He comes back a few moments later with a towel and some water, and he cleans me up with a loving gaze as I sip down the water.

Once he’s deemed his cleaning sufficient, he throws the towel across the room, both of us laughing gently, before his face becomes a little more serious. ‘I wasn’t just saying it, y/n. I do love you,’ he says, the thrill of the words not quite old yet. ‘I know. And I love you too,’ I say, the smile on his face mirrored on my own.

Before we both realise the weight of what we’re saying, and it hits us like a ton of bricks. This is worse than the usual comedown, much worse. All the previous times, it’s been easier, because it’s hard to love someone when their words and touches are full of lust and nothing more. But this time…. I could feel the love, in every single movement, in every touch, in every word. Yeah, this comedown hurts.

I open my mouth to speak, though I’m not sure what I’m going to say, but he shakes his head. ‘Don’t. Save it for the morning. I just want to be normal now. Can we do that? Can we just pretend to be a normal couple, pretend that you love me, and I love you, and that’s all there is?’ he asks, desperation in his voice, in his eyes, his face, his entire body, different from the desperation we both felt a little while ago, and I nod. ‘We can do that.’

He smiles, the most beautiful smile I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing, before he leans towards me, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. The kiss instantly deepens into something passionate, something soft, something full of love, and our arms wrap around each other as we fall back onto the bed, our limbs tangled together.

‘Don’t go,’ I whisper against his lips, ‘please don’t go. Stay the night.’ ‘I’m not going anywhere, baby,’ he whispers back, holding me in a tight grip, and I could live the rest of my life like this, in his arms, with his lips on mine. ‘I’m right here.’

‘y/n, so help me, if you don’t answer the fucking door!’ Jisoo’s shrill shriek breaks through my slumber, quickly followed by her fists hitting the door, making both Jungkook and I wake the fuck up. ‘Shit. Go hide,’ I whisper, pushing him out of the bed, and he gets out, still half asleep. ‘Bathroom?’ he asks groggily, grabbing his boxers and pulling them on. ‘No, balcony, she might need to use the bathroom,’ I say, and he sighs, rushing out onto the balcony and hiding around the corner where he isn’t visible through the doors.

I jump out of bed, grabbing my underwear and his clothes and shoving them into the wardrobe before I shrug on my white satin gown, quickly tying it as I kick his sliders under the bed. ‘y/n!’ Jisoo practically screams, and I wrench the door open, faced with Jisoo who holds a fist up, ready to bang on the door again. She jumps at the sight of me before huffing, pushing past me into the room. ‘What took you so long?’ she asks, and I sigh, shutting the door and going to sit at the foot of the bed. ‘I was, like, in such a deep sleep. Sorry,’ I say, and she shrugs. ‘It’s fine. I thought you’d disappeared or something,’ she says, and I let out a gentle laugh.

She’s in her white dressing gown too, white sliders on her feet, and her hair is already styled into an updo at the back of her head, a couple of loose curls framing her face with a few small blue flowers dotted around her head. ‘Your hair looks really pretty,’ I say, and she preens at the praise. ‘Thanks. I had to wake up so early, because the stylist has to do everyone else’s too. You’re lucky you can do your own hair,’ she says, and I grin, trying to ignore the panic in my veins, still half-asleep.

‘How did you sleep?’ I ask, and she huffs again, scowling. ‘Not well. Someone was having some loud ass sex. It must have been a couple in the room above me, because it was so fucking loud. Poor girl was nearly screaming – sounded like a pornstar, but real. I bet we’ll be able to spot her around the hotel today, barely able to walk,’ she chuckles, and I hope my face doesn’t betray me as I laugh along, my cheeks heating up.

‘Did you hear it?’ she asks, and I shake my head, feigning cluelessness. ‘No. It must have been above you ‘cause I couldn’t hear a thing. Or I just slept like a log,’ I say, and she rolls her eyes. ‘So lucky. You’ve always been a deep sleeper. You could sleep through a hurricane. Remember when we had renovations going on in the attic, and you literally slept through the entire thing?’ she says, and I laugh at the memory. ‘I get it from Dad. You’re like Mum – she’s a light sleeper too,’ I say, and she scowls. ‘Trust me, I know. She caught me sneaking in at night that many times,’ she mutters, and I burst out laughing, completely forgetting the boy out on my balcony as Jisoo laughs with me.

There’s something about reminiscing with a sister that makes you feel warm inside.

‘That’s not fair!’ she exclaims, looking towards my balcony, ‘you got a sea view! Mine’s a mountain view!’ She begins to walk towards it, and without thinking, I nearly shriek, ‘No! Don’t go out there!’ She turns to look at me, her face a mixture of confused and alarmed. ‘Um, why?’ ‘You’ll ruin your hair, dummy! It’s so windy out there,’ I lie, surprised at how quickly I thought of that, and she gasps with realisation. ‘Oh, my God, I completely forgot. What would I do without you, y/n?’ she says, and I try to smile at her with true happiness. ‘You’d have messy hair on your wedding day,’ I say, and she lets out a gentle laugh.

‘Speaking of which, how do you feel? Excited?’ I ask, and she hesitates. ‘I don’t know,’ she begins, and my eyes widen. ‘What?’ ‘No, not like that! Don’t worry, I’m not getting cold feet. He’s not getting out of marrying my crazy ass,’ she says, both of us laughing before she continues; ‘I just… I don’t know, I just don’t feel excited. It feels like a normal day.’ ‘Well, it takes a while to sink in-’ ‘No, it’s sunk in. I’m well aware. I just don’t feel… anything. At all,’ she says, seeming a little worried, and I sigh. ‘Jisoo, that’s okay. This is a big thing, and there’s no particular way you should feel. Trust me, when you’re walking down the aisle, then you’ll feel it,’ I say, and she smiles softly. ‘You always know what to say,’ she says gently, and I get up from the bed, pulling her into a hug.

She hugs me back for a few seconds before pulling away. ‘You smell…’ she begins before moving back in to sniff me. And then she pulls back in shock, eyes wide. ‘You smell like sex! Oh, my God, did Jimin come to your room last night?’ she demands. ‘No! God, no! He might be here as my date, but he’s still my best friend, Jisoo! And also gay! No, I… I struggled to drop off, so I… you know,’ I trail off, and she grins at me when she realises. ‘Ooh, okay,’ she says teasingly, and I bury my face in my hands embarrassedly.

‘Shut it.’ ‘Fine, fine, I’ll let it go. Anyway, I’ve gotta go get my makeup done, but I just wanted to check in on you, because you weren’t replying to my texts. I might go check on my lovely groom,’ she says excitedly, heading towards the door, and I grab her hand. ‘No, idiot, it’s bad luck! Mum would kill you,’ I say, and she rolls her eyes, sighing. ‘Whatever. I’ll just go back to my room then. But get ready. You need to shower, and do your hair, and makeup, and you’ve only got three hours,’ she nags, and I roll my eyes. ‘Now you’re sounding like Mum. That’s plenty of time. Go, get ready,’ I say, and she grins, pulling me into a quick hug before darting out into the hall, the door falling shut with a heavy thud behind her.

When I turn around, Jungkook’s already coming back into the room with a shit-eating grin on his face. ‘Jimin? She’s funny,’ Jungkook laughs as I get his clothes out of the wardrobe, but I can’t bring myself to join in with his amuseent. ‘You need to go,’ I say, retrieving the sliders from under the bed, and his face falls. ‘What? Why?’ he asks, and my eyes widen at his stupidity. ‘Because you’re getting married to my sister in three hours!’ I hiss angrily, throwing his clothes at him, and he looks so inexplicably sad, slumping down onto the edge of the bed, dropping his head into his hands.

And just like always, he manages to make me feel sorry for him.

‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that. But it’s true, Jungkook. You shouldn’t be here. You need to go and get ready. People are gonna start knocking on your door and wondering where you are,’ I say gently, and he nods, head still in his hands.

He takes a deep breath and looks up at me, and I really think he’s about to say goodbye and leave. And then he says something else entirely; ‘We could just run, you know.’ ‘What?’ I ask, blinking in shock, and he nods earnestly, getting up from the bed and taking my hands into his. ‘You love me, and I love you. That’s all that matters. We could run, start a life somewhere together,’ he says, and I can’t believe my ears.

I pull my hands from his, taking a couple steps back from him as his face falls. ‘Obviously you don’t care about my sister, but I do, and we cannot hurt her like that,’ I say coldly, his face twisting with rage. ‘You didn’t care about her when you were begging for my fucking cock last night,’ he spits, and I flinch at his words, the movement instantly taking the anger out of him.

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it-’ ‘It’s fine. You’re not exactly wrong. Neither of us cared about her last night, when we probably should have. But it’s done. Now… you go, and you marry her, and you make her the happiest girl in the world,’ I say as brightly as possible, and he sighs sadly, pulling me into his arms. ‘And make you the saddest? I can’t do that,’ he whispers, my head tucked under his chin, and I melt into him, blinking back tears. ‘You have to,’ I say, and he takes a shaky breath before pulling away from me.

‘I never should’ve proposed,’ he spits, so angry at himself, throwing himself down onto the bed again, feet planted firmly on the floor. ‘Why did you?’ I whisper, and he looks up at me in surprise. ‘What?’ ‘Why did you propose?’ I ask, and he sighs, throwing his head back with his eyes closed, pain all over his face. Silence descends over us as he hesitates, and I can practically feel his mind working at a hundred miles an hour. ‘She’s… she won’t be around for long,’ he says sadly, and the words don’t really register with me properly. ‘What? Why?’

‘She’s dying, y/n.’

The words strike me dumb, echoing in my ears as though he’d shouted them, even though they’d barely come out as a whisper. ‘No,’ I breathe out, clutching my hands together at my chest, my entire body numb. ‘I’m sorry you had to find out like this,’ he sighs, and I shake my head, trying to block out his words. ‘No, no, no, it can’t be true,’ I whisper, and he gets up from the bed, looking as though he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders as he takes the two small steps towards me, wrapping his arms around my body again.

I curl into him, seeking comfort from him, the word ‘no’ falling from my lips again and again, like a broken record. ‘I’m sorry, y/n,’ he murmurs against my forehead, and I take a deep breath, my hands balled up in fists against his chest. ‘No, Jungkook, no! It can’t be true. No,’ I practically shout, my fist hitting his chest repeatedly, and he continues holding me. And then I clutch onto him, like he’s a buoy in this sea of pain, the waves rising up higher than possible and washing over me so hard, I think I might drown.

And when it feels like lifetimes have passed, lifetimes of agony and pain and loss, I let go of him, stumbling towards the bed to sit down, hands clasping at the sheets to anchor me. ‘Why… why is she dying? Has she been diagnosed?’ I ask, and he nods, coming to sit beside me, and he takes my hands into his. ‘She’s got early onset Parkinson’s disease. It’s really rare in people our age. You know what that is, right?’ he asks, and I nod, trying to imagine my sister, my beautiful lively sister, debilitated, stuck in a wheelchair, unable to move and speak. The image hurts my heart.

‘Is she getting treatment?’ I ask, and he sighs. ‘It’s terminal, so treatment won’t save her, it’ll just… prolong her suffering,’ he replies, and I look at him with hard eyes. ‘Is she getting treatment?’ I repeat harshly, and he shakes his head. ‘Are you kidding?’ ‘y/n, she refused treatment. She said she’d rather die quickly than die painfully,’ he says, and my whole body shakes with fury.

‘She’s so fucking stupid, oh, my God! She’s going to die painfully either way! Parkinson’s isn’t a pretty disease! She’s gonna get to a point where she can’t even shit without help! Why wouldn’t she put that off as long as possible?’ I rant and Jungkook nods in agreement, inexplicably sad. ‘I’ve had this same conversation with her several times. You know what she’s like. Once she’s made a decision…’ he trails off, and I nod, knowing exactly what he means.

She decided she was going to get married at the beach that we visited in Santorini when she was 8 and I was 6. That’s exactly where we are. She decided that she was going to have her bridesmaids (and decorations) in blue since we saw a wedding on TV with that same colour palette when she was 11 and I was 9. That’s exactly what we’re wearing (and the colour of her decorations). And she decided she was going to marry Jeon Jungkook, the popular, sweet, soft and smart jock boy in her year at school, since she was 14 and I was 12. And that’s exactly who she’s marrying.

Once she’s made a decision, there’s nothing changing her mind.

‘Try not to be upset today, y/n. I know that’s hard, but you’re not supposed to know, and it needs to stay that way until she tells you herself. Just, please, try to put on a smile,’ he says, and I nod, blinking back the tears that had been pooling in my eyes, and putting on my brightest smile. ‘Good?’ I ask, and he grins. He looks genuinely happy. And then I look at myself in the mirror sat on the desk, and I look genuinely happy too. We might not have much, but at least we’re great actors. ‘Beautiful,’ he answers, my heart fluttering at the compliment.

‘Just remember… I was planning on breaking up with her. And then I found out she has around a year left before she starts getting really ill, and god knows how long she’ll have after that. I owe her the happiness of having her dream wedding, owe it to her after what we did. What we’ve been doing, for years,’ he says gently, and I nod, knowing he’s right. ‘Thank you, for marrying her. She’ll be happier than she’s ever been before,’ I say softly, and we smile sadly at one another.

We rise up from the bed and I walk him over to the door. ‘Remember,’ he says quietly, taking my hands into his again, ‘I’m the doting, head-over-heels, whipped yet annoyingly nonchalant and cocky husband, and you’re the supportive, over-the-moon, ecstatic yet annoyingly teasing and mischievous younger sister. Got it?’ I burst out laughing at his stupid descriptions of us, and he grins. ‘I’ll see you… at the wedding,’ he smiles, his voice tinged with sadness, and I nod, smiling sadly back as I say, ‘see you at the wedding.’

‘Speech! Speech!’ the crowd of our family and friends chant at Jisoo who holds the mic in her hand, laughing as she waits for them to quieten down so she can do her speech. Her smile is so big, and she looks so beautiful, so happy, absolutely radiant. Her dress is perfect for her, practically screams Jisoo – well, the whole wedding has screamed Jisoo. It’s her all over. She’s had her dream wedding, and I couldn’t be happier for her.

I just wish the cost of her happiness wasn’t my own.

It’s been difficult today, more difficult that I could’ve imagined. The worst part was being stood right beside Jungkook and Jisoo as they got married, said their vows, and praying Jisoo didn’t notice how often his eyes flitted to me. Being happy for Jisoo, though? That was the easiest part. Seeing her happy like this, knowing she’s dying soon, my happiness for her hasn’t been hard to fake. Even easier after I’ve been avoiding Jungkook all day, spending all possible time with Jimin instead.

And then the mic feedback sings out across the space, making everyone clap their hands over their ears. ‘Sorry, sorry. Shall I start?’ Jisoo asks, everyone laughing as Jungkook says, ‘yes, please,’ with an affectionate roll of his eyes, and she shoves him as he grins amusedly. He plays the role well.

Jisoo begins her speech by thanking everyone for flying out, thanking her bridesmaids for all their help and the hen party (which Jungkook pretends to scowl at), thanking the groomsmen for keeping Jungkook out of her hair during all the wedding planning, thanking all of both our family members and Jungkook’s that have helped out, and thanking both our parents and Jungkook’s for all of their support and help (and financial contribution which everyone lets out a hearty laugh at).

‘But I must give our biggest thank you to the two people that have helped out the most,’ she says, and I can already feel tears filling my eyes as she looks at me across the dancefloor. Jimin, sat beside me, coughs loudly, and Jisoo laughs. ‘Sorry, I mean, the three people that have helped out the most,’ she corrects herself, everyone laughing as Jimin puffs out his chest, making me roll my eyes at my eccentric best friend.

‘First, Jungkook’s brother, Hoseok. Thank you for coming to every single one of our different meetings and appointments and everything we needed you at, and not complaining at all. Thank you for accepting the fact that you couldn’t bring all of your old frat brothers to our wedding with such grace, and thank you for being a real support for me and Jungkook when things got stressful. I’m honoured to have been blessed with such a great brother-in-law, and I’m so grateful for the way you’ve welcomed me into your family with open arms,’ Jisoo says, her eyes on Hoseok, who looks awfully proud of himself, his eyes shining suspiciously bright, and I hear him shouting a moment later, ‘I’ve got allergies, I’ve got allergies!’

‘And onto my best friend… and her best friend. My beautiful y/n, you truly are my angel sent from above. Whilst Hoseok helped calm us down, you’re the one that gave us a kick up the arse when we were falling behind on planning. You were there for everything, absolutely everything, down to the miniscule things like deciding the font for the invitations, and the shade of blue for my earrings. You practically lived at our house, and so did Jimin. You’re the best Maid of Honour I could’ve ever asked for, and Jimin, you’re the best Vice Maid of Honour I could’ve asked for. You’ve both helped me out more than I can say, and I’m so grateful. We both are.

y/n, thank you for being the best sister ever. From when you were born, I knew I was lucky to have you, and you’ve never proven it more than during the wedding planning. I love you so much, my love, and I can’t wait to see you fall in love and get married so I can nag and annoy and bug you and your fiancé just as much as you did with us. Thank you,’ she says, her eyes shining, and tears run down my cheeks at how lovely her speech was. And also the fact that she won’t ever see me get married, because I’m in love with her husband.

‘I love you,’ I mouth at her across the space, and she grins her beautiful grin back at me, blowing me a kiss. And then she turns to Jungkook, handing him the mic, and he takes it with a smile.

‘I, um… gosh, Jisoo always was the clever one,’ he begins, everyone laughing as Jisoo shakes her head, and those of us that know him best know he’s just as clever as her. They’re practically a power couple; brains, looks, talent. Their kids will be like superheroes. ‘She’s said all of the ‘thank you’s, to be honest, but I just want to add to a couple of them,’ he says before thanking the staff, his groomsmen and the bridesmaids again, and then his and our parents.

Then he thanks his brother – well, it’s less of a ‘thank you’ and more of a roasting. But his smile and eyes are so full of love for his brother, and I’ve seen them together enough over the years to know that their bond is something special. Like mine and Jisoo’s, I guess.

Then he thanks Jimin (he’s practically preening at all the attention) for keeping Jisoo and I in check when we got overexcited/emotional/spent way too much, and for keeping their main wedding planner (me) sane, and also restraining me from throttling Jisoo when she turned into bridezilla.

And then Jungkook’s gaze turns towards me, and it’s like everyone disappears, like how that happens every time he looks at me. But I shake it off. Because here, today, we aren’t secret lovers. He’s the groom, I’m the Maid of Honour, and we’re in-laws now. And we have to be happy for Jisoo.

‘And y/n, the sister I would’ve preferred to be with, but she was taken when I met her,’ he jokes, everyone laughing as Jisoo slaps his shoulder with a grin. ‘Thank you, y/n, for everything you’ve done for us both. You’ve been there as long as I can remember, the annoying younger sibling – and, Jimin, the best friend that was attached to her hip – the two of you always wanting to hang out with the older kids. You’ve been in my life just as long as Jisoo has and, even though you’ve only been my sister-in-law for a few hours, you’ve been here all along. So thank you, for helping our dream wedding come true, and for being… you. I look forward to the day that we can see you get married… and our children can be your flower girls and page boys,’ he says, rounding off on a light note, and a gentle laugh runs around the wedding party.

Tears flow down my face, and everyone gives us indulgent smiles, in wonder at how close, how tight knit our family is. But Jungkook’s gaze lingers on me a little too long, and I see past the light grin, see through the cracks in his armour, see the way his eyes shine with tears, the way his top lip seems to quiver a little, the way his fist keeps clenching and unclenching. And it hurts. God, it really fucking hurts. And he can see how much it hurts, because his mask slips for a moment, and so does mine, before we both look away from one another.

He begins his speech for his wife, and I just know I can’t bear to listen, can’t bear to hear him spout lies, so I dismiss myself, giving Jimin the excuse of running up to my hotel room to fix my makeup and go for a wee. I rush past all the smiling faces, the soft breeze ruffling my hair and dress as I take the stairs that lead up from the beach and back into the hotel, but instead of turning left where all the rooms are, I turn right and run down towards where I know the hotel’s other stretch of beach is, tears running down my face.

I perch on a deck chair, the hem of my dress laying against the sand as I look out at the sea crashing against the shore, the setting sun reflected in the waves. My head finally calms, the tears coming to a stop as I listen to the sound of the sea, the rest of the world just melting away, everything else melting away. Jungkook, Jisoo, the fact that she’s ill, and the fact that she just married the boy I love, it all just… disappears from my head. For a few beautiful moments, there’s just me and the sea.

And then I hear footsteps approaching behind me. ‘y/n,’ I hear his voice, and I laugh, turning to him with a smile. ‘I swear to God, what can I do to get you to leave me alone?’ I ask, and Hoseok bursts into laughter as he sits on the deck chair beside me. ‘I saw you leave. You okay? I know today must have been really hard for you,’ he begins, but I hold up a hand. ‘Please, Hoseok, don’t. I get that you mean well, but I really can’t talk about this,’ I say, and he nods, smiling sadly. ‘Okay. We won’t talk about it,’ he says simply, and I smile back before both of us turn to look out at the sea.

I met Hoseok when I was… 14? Maybe 15. He was the older brother of the boy that my sister was convinced she would marry, and also the older brother of the boy that had asked me on a date (despite being two years older than me), and I’d had to tell him I had a boyfriend (how I wish I’d just gone on the date with him all those years back). I was out with my friends once when we’d heard some boy shouting my name. We all turned to look, and saw Jeon Jungkook, the most desirable boy at our school, and who must have been his older brother – the resemblance was striking. It’d been Hoseok shouting my name, teasing Jungkook because of his crush on me.

The next time I saw Hoseok was when I was 16, and Jisoo had told our family that she was dating someone, but wanted us to meet their family before they made it official. Both mine and Jungkook’s jaws had dropped when I walked into his house – obviously the fact that I was Jisoo’s sister hadn’t come up in their conversation. I’d seen Hoseok plenty of times since then; he’d been at every birthday of our family’s, and I’d been at every birthday of their family’s – he even came to my graduation. It was a couple years ago that Hoseok and I became really good friends, and I’d broken down and confessed to him that I was love with his brother and had been the entire time he’d been dating my sister. He took it well – I’m guessing his reaction wouldn’t quite have been the same had I confessed that we’d also been sleeping together for a few years behind everyone’s backs.

Hoseok had been like an older brother to me, all of the annoying traits included, and he’d managed to whisk me away from tough situations (like family get-togethers) with excuses of having to get some more lemonade from the shop or pick some weed up from his dealer’s house (he’s always been very open about his smoking, and it hadn’t been long before Jungkook joined in too, but he kept it to a minimum when Jisoo was around – I’d been with him whilst he was high several times though. He’s cute when he’s high – soft and affectionate and needy).

‘Okay, I think we should head back. They might start worrying we’ve snuck off somewhere. You know, Maid of Honour, Best Man,’ he says, wiggling his eyebrows, and I shove him with a laugh, both of us rising up from our deck chairs. He holds an arm out to me, and I take it, and we walk back towards the wedding in a comfortable silence.

The air is still deliciously warm, the setting sun casting an orange glow over the atmosphere, the sky streaked with pastel colours as the sound of the waves crashing against the shore is faint, yet present. ‘Is my makeup okay?’ I ask as we approach the wedding, the music getting a little louder with each step. ‘It’s perfect. I would never have guessed you’ve been crying your eyes out,’ he teases, and I nudge him in annoyance.

And then I hear the DJ’s voice ring out into the air; ‘First song request of the night!’ With the invitations, they sent out song request cards for people to… request a song to be played at the wedding. I can’t even remember what I put down on mine. ‘This request is from the sister of the bride, our beautiful Maid of Honour! This is Perfect by Ed Sheeran and Beyoncé.’

‘How tasteless of you,’ Hoseok says, and I give him an indignant look, though I can’t help but feel dread at this song playing. ‘It’s romantic,’ I defend, and he rolls his eyes as we reach the rest of the wedding party. It’s like I can sense his eyes on me, and I turn to meet his gaze, and he grins, instantly making his way towards me. ‘Can I have this dance?’ he asks with shining eyes and a gentle grin, and Hoseok instantly removes his arm from mine as I take Jungkook’s hand, letting him pull me onto the dancefloor.

‘Why’d you choose this song, y/n?’ he asks teasingly as we glide around the floor, as though we’re one person in two different bodies, moving as one. ‘It’s romantic,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘So you don’t remember the piece of our history that’s attached to this song?’ he asks, and I avoid his gaze, embarrassed. ‘You’re a little minx choosing this song,’ he jokes, and I let out a laugh, our eyes meeting with amusement.

It was a couple weeks before his aunt’s wedding, four years ago, and he was taking Jisoo as his date. But he’d asked me to help him learn how to properly waltz so he could surprise and impress my sister at the wedding. So I’d gone over to his house, nobody else but us at home, and we’d spent hours trying to waltz with this song playing in the background. He eventually got the hang of it, but we’d gotten lost in each other’s eyes and he tripped over his own feet and we’d fallen to the floor, his body landing on top of mine.

That was the start of our affair.

‘Shall we waltz?’ he asks, and I laugh, nodding as we begin to waltz around the dancefloor. My dress swishes around our legs as my heels click against the temporary dancefloor they’d put down on top of the sand. He looks so handsome, in his black tux and white shirt open at the collar, having discarded his tie a couple hours ago, silver cufflinks sparkling at his wrists and silver earrings dangling from his ears.

‘You look so handsome,’ I whisper without even meaning to, and he grins. ‘Why, thank you, y/n. And you look so beautiful,’ he whispers back, sincerity in his voice. He’s changed so much in the past 24 hours. How could I have doubted his love for me, when it’s in his eyes every time he looks at me?

‘Thanks to your wife. The dress, the makeup, the hair, it was all her idea,’ I say, and he chuckles. ‘She’s not the one wearing it though,’ he says, and I laugh. My dress is floaty, strappy and sky-blue, the perfect summer bridesmaid dress, and blue flowers are woven into the braid that winds around my head, the rest of my hair falling in wavy sheets around my shoulders. And my makeup is soft and summery, faint blue eyes, glossy lips and shimmery cheekbones.

And then he starts singing along to the song, our feet still moving in a faultless waltz. I’m suddenly hyperaware of his hand on my lower back, too low, the other one clasped in mine, too tight, and we’re standing close, too close. But I don’t care to move, instead singing along too. And it’s as though he’s singing the lyrics to me, telling me I’m an angel, that he doesn’t deserve me, and that I look perfect. And I live in this little fantasy, in this world where we can love each other, hold each other, touch each other without all the guilt. In this world where he’s just a boy and I’m just a girl, and we’re just in love.

But then my eyes meet Jisoo’s across the dancefloor, and it takes me a moment to realise they’re full of tears. The second our eyes meet, she begins to walk towards us, and the fear of her knowing nearly paralyses me, and Jungkook can feel it, his body tensing as his eyes stay locked on my face. ‘Can I cut in?’ Jisoo’s voice comes from behind him, and he turns to see her there. ‘Yeah, of course,’ I say, and she lets out a gentle laugh. ‘I was talking to him. I want to dance with you,’ she says gently, and Jungkook feigns hurt, pretending to march off in a huff as both of us laugh, watching him join his friends by the bar.

She holds her arms up in position, and I do the same, beginning to waltz with my sister now. She always used to lead, being the oldest and all, and that hasn’t changed, the girl spinning us around the floor flawlessly. ‘I need to say something, and I want you to listen to everything before you speak,’ she says, my heart nearly stopping with the fear of being caught out, and I nod wordlessly, trying to focus on the fact that there’s still a small smile on her face.

‘I love you. Just as much as I love him. Meaning I know you both very well. I’ve known for a while that there’s a boy in your life, whether or not he’s a boyfriend or just dating or just a crush. But I’ve known. And I’ve known there was someone else in his life. And we were near the end of our relationship when I found out that I’m ill, y/n, and I’m not going to get better. Don’t, don’t cry, we’ll come back to that. I really thought I knew everything, I thought I was so clever. But I didn’t know that his someone else was you and your someone was him,’ she says, my entire body going cold, but the smile still doesn’t disappear from her face.

‘How long? How long have you loved him?’ she asks, and I sigh. ‘Ji…’ ‘How long, y/n?’ ‘Since a month before we met his family,’ I admit sadly, and her mouth falls open. ‘y/n… why didn’t you say anything? I thought you were going to say a couple years. Not that long,’ she says sadly, and I shrug with a smile. ‘You were happy. I couldn’t ruin that,’ I say, and she smiles, eyes full with tears. ‘Thank you, y/n, for letting me have my dream wedding with the love of your life,’ she says, and I shake my head. ‘He’s the love of your life, not mine,’ I say, and now she shakes her head, still smiling the sad smile that breaks my heart.

‘He’s the love of both of our lives. Because I’m not going to be around much longer,’ she says, but I shake my head again, angry this time. ‘No, Jisoo, don’t say that.’ ‘It’s true, y/n, and I’m not going to drag out my suffering. I’m lucky if I have two years. So, please, don’t care what anyone else thinks once I’m gone. Marry him, spend your life with him, love him, because I want you to make him happy, and I want him to make you happy, but neither of you can do that whilst I’m still here.’ ‘Jisoo, don’t say that!’ ‘y/n, it’s true, we both know it is. You’re the loves of each other’s lives, and I won’t be the bitch sister who stops you from being happy.’

‘Jisoo, let’s not have this conversation on your wedding day. Please, just be happy today,’ I say sadly, and she nods, a big smile breaking across her face. ‘Okay. Thank you for making my wedding amazing. I love you, y/n.’ And then my eyes meet Jungkook’s, and it’s like he knows, because for the first time since I can remember, his gaze doesn’t have any sadness or yearning in it. No. This time, it’s just love, and happiness, and I smile back at him, before turning my smile to my sister, my heart swelling with love. ‘I love you, too, Jisoo.’

[madtomedgar]

@venndaai asked for suxiyao for the drabbles, which are not drabbles but longer fics. this is pre relationship and an au where meng shi lives and meng yao is using his nie salary to keep her in a house in qinghe and pay for her medicine.

“Meng Gongzi,” Meng Yao startled at Lan Zongzhu’s warm and gentle voice behind him. How had he not heard someone entering the library pavillion? “I thought you said you were leaving.”

Meng Yao replaced the book he’d been scouring through as carefully and quickly as he could and turned, bowing deeply, wondering if perhaps it would be more appropriate for him to make his apology on his knees. “Please forgive this one’s error, Lan zongzhu. It was very wrong of me to trespass--”

That firm, warm grip on his forearms cut him off again as Lan zongzhu raised him out of his bow until their eyes met. Meng Yao did his best to avert his gaze, as was only appropriate, but Lan zongzhu’s kind eyes followed his until he gave up. “Meng gongzi, this one is happy to have your company for a while longer. You are most welcome to look through our texts. Was there something in particular you were hoping to find?” Words failed Meng Yao as shame and embarrassment crawled around in his throat. He knew what should happen to a servant from another sect caught snooping around the esteemed and sacred texts. He knew what his own sect leader would do. He knew he shouldn’t have risked his position like this, just for... “This is a medical text, written by my great-great grandfather,” said Lan zongzhu, who had picked up the book Meng Yao had been caught with. “Is Meng gongzi interested in studying medicine?”

Why was he dragging this out? Why couldn’t he just reprimand Meng Yao and send him packing with a letter to Nie zongzhu detailing his reprehensible conduct, so he could slink home and take his punishment? Did he find it amusing, as the Nie cultivators did, to torment him? But everything about Lan zongzhu that he’d seen so far pointed in the opposite direction. He was foolish, foolish to trust in any of it, but “Forgive this one his trespass, but he has heard much of the skill and prowess of the healers of the Lan clan of Gusu. He was hoping to find a treatment for wasting illness, and did not wish to trouble Lan zongzhu or any of his cultivators with this one’s insignificant problems.”

Lan zongzhu looked at him with what appeared to be genuine concern and reached for his wrist. “Are you ill, Meng gongzi?”

“No, no, not me,” Meng Yao stammered, pulling his hand away and clasping it in front of him. “My mother.” 

He shouldn’t have dirtied such a pristine place with even the mention of her, but before he could say anything else, Lan zongzhu stepped in again, smiling. “She is fortunate to have such a filial son. Can you tell me the nature of her illness?”

Meng Yao wanted to gape, but he was far, far better than that, and so he didn’t. “This one thanks Lan zongzhu for his attention to such insignificant matters. Her lungs have been failing her for some time. She has medicine, but it doesn’t seem to do much. I had hoped to find some... cure or treatment that the common doctors in Qinghe don’t know of.”

Lan zongzhu considered for a moment. “A wasting of the lungs... and your mother is not a cultivator?” Meng Yao nodded, bemused. Surely Lan zongzhu knew. Everyone knew. They’d gossiped about her this morning in his very presence! “Do not give credence to rumor” was one of the Lan rules, but surely nobody followed it that closely. “It would be best if someone trained in our techniques could examine her. Training you would take time, and I wouldn’t want to keep you from your duties. I’ll send one of our disciples back with you.”

Meng Yao was overcome, and bowed again, only to be caught again. He couldn’t afford to dwell on what being touched so gently like that, by the First Jade of Gusu Lan, sparked inside him. This wasn’t one of his young master’s dirty books. Those sorts of things never happened in life and, if they did, they never ended well. “This one thanks you, but could not possibly afford it.” Whatever the Lan sect charged for healing commoners, it had to be expensive. And add to that that this commoner was a prostitute and all the way in Qinghe...

There was a gentle tug at his arms, indicating that he should look at this man who insisted they were peers beyond all reason. He did. He wished he hadn’t. Lan zongzhu was smiling, radiant, like sunlight on a stream. “Meng gongzi, it would please me for you to consider this a favor from a friend. Or, at the very least, consider that Nie zongzhu is and I are old friends, and it is my pleasure to help his valued right hand as I am able.” Now, Meng Yao did gape. “Besides,” said Lan zongzhu, and Meng Yao must be hallucinating the conspiratorial air that snuck over him, “I think some time in the company of such a well spoken and poised person will do the particular disciple I’m thinking of much good.”

Well. Far be it from Meng Yao to tell Lan zongzhu how to dispose of his disciples. 

--

Su Minshan, the disciple Lan zongzhu sent to accompany Meng Yao back to Qinghe, did not inspire confidence. Of course, Meng Yao hadn’t expected the Lan sect to send their best and brightest to heal an aging prostitute in another sect’s territory, but still. This man isn’t much older than he is, and so far on their journey he’s been moody, anxious, and sullen. It is clear he thinks this errand beneath him. The fact that he’s right about that just galls Meng Yao more. 

“All that work and they still treat me like a messenger boy,” Su Minshan mutters out the window of the carriage they share. He, of course, would have preferred to go by sword, but there are goods to bring back, and Meng Yao’s skill at riding the sword is still lacking. 

This, at least, Meng Yao can understand. He’d felt similarly when Nie zongzhu had given him the task of escorting the young master to the Cloud Recesses. “When Nie zongzhu sends me on similar errands for him, I have found it is a sign not that he values me less, but that the errand in question is important to him, and that to be trusted with it is a great honor.”

Su Minshan shakes his head. He has a pleasant face, but, unfortunately, bitterness does not become it. “I’m sure that’s true for you. I’ve been trying to get Lan zongzhu to give me a chance, I’ve worked so hard, and for all that he still just sees me as a courier. Because I’m not a Lan. You really think they’d trust some farm boy with this task if it was so important?”

Meng Yao could ask him if he thinks that Nie zongzhu would trust a whore’s son with something as important as conveying his wayward brother safely and handling inter-clan relations, but that wouldn’t help, and wouldn’t be half as satisfying in actuality as it is in imagination. He is no stranger to bruised egos and to feeling like one’s hard work is taken for granted. Looking sympathetic is not difficult. “Su gongzi, it is the greatest satisfaction to have the appreciation of one’s sect leader. I am no one important, and so my appreciation won’t matter. But for what little it is worth, you have it in abundance for coming all this way to help my mother.”

This seemed to have done nothing but make Su Minshan aware that he’d been being quite rude. “It’s nothing,” he said with a shrug. “Wasting of the lungs in a commoner... a little medicine, a little playing, any junior disciple could manage it.”

“Playing? Like what Lan zongzhu did at the gift ceremony?” Meng Yao had never heard of music being used in healing. Or in cultivation really, for that matter. The concept fascinated him.

“Sort of,” said Su Minshan, brightening a little despite himself. “Except I use a guqin, not a xiao, and my spiritual tool isn’t very impressive. And I’m not as good as the Jades. Or the senior disciples.”

“I’m sure you’re better than me,” said Meng Yao. “The skill of the musicians of Gusu is renowned, even in Qinghe. Unfortunately, Nie zongzhu doesn’t appreciate music, so I have little opportunity to play myself.”

“You play qin?” asked Su Minshan.

Meng Yao nodded. “My mother taught me. She also taught me to read and write. She was one of the best players in Yunmeng, before she got sick. She doesn’t play much anymore.”

“I had to teach my mother how to read, so I could send her letters from the Cloud Recesses.”

“I’m sure she’s very proud to have such a learned son.” If she was anything like Meng Yao’s mother she was obnoxiously proud. Suffocatingly proud. Embarrassingly proud. Never stopped telling anyone who would listen about everything he did and everything he was going to do proud. Meng Yao hoped that Su Minshan’s mother was something like his own. If only because it might endear her to him, make him do a better job. Not because that would mean that this sad boy had someone in his life who saw his accomplishments and not just his failings. Meng Yao certainly didn’t care about that.

Su Minshan went back to looking out the window of the carriage, and Meng Yao went back to studying the cultivation manual he’d bought in Gusu. He was interrupted some time later by Su Minshan blurting “Maybe I can teach you the healing song. When we stop for tonight. If you want. Since you know how to play.”

Meng Yao did not gape, because he was better than that. He also didn’t sputter out any of the reasons they shouldn’t tearing through his mind. He didn’t have his instrument with him; surely it was an insult for him to handle this cultivator’s spiritual tool; surely it was a breach for Su Minshan to teach him, a guest of the Nie, a proprietary technique of the Lan sect; surely musical cultivation, like what he’d seen Lan zongzhu do at the gift ceremony, was far beyond his paltry skill and weak core. Instead, he beamed at the other man. “I would like that very much, Su Minshan.”

[honeypirate]

Pancakes for dinner pt two

Aizawa x y/n

Part one part three will be the last.

CW: talks of murder and swearing

I really fucked up the times but I’m not gonna fix it.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Aizawa’s POV

“Finally” he says, relief flooding his chest as your name lights up his phone screen. It’s been weeks since you’ve spoken. “Y/n” he says when he answers and you laugh “hey Shouta you sound like you missed me” god he loves your laugh, and of course he misses you! Every second of every day. But he doesn’t want to interrupt your time with your man or school and then there’s the time difference. It’s probably five pm there since. “I always miss you y/n. How are you?” He leans back in his chair at his desk “I’m alright, I just missed your voice and I wanted to talk” his heart skips and he grimaces at the reaction.

For years he’s tried to stop loving you. He knows you only think of him as a brother, he wouldn’t ever bring it up to you. He will respect your feelings. He just wishes his body and heart would respect him.

“I had to stop what I was doing and go out to the field to stop them from fucking fighting, but All Might is there when I leave the building. Turns out the fight was his fault because he neglected Bakugou and favored Deku” he has one hand behind his head and his feet up on his desk catching you up on his life “but you still gave them punishment for fighting right? Suspension and garbage duty for the dorm?” Your voice was amused and he could hear your smile through the phone. “Yeah I did” he laughs “that exact punishment. How did you know?” “Because I know you Shouta” you say with a laugh and he blushes and then cursed himself Internally. “So how’s what’s her face?” He resisted the urge to groan.

He was dating some girl he met at the grocery store for a few months. Trying to get rid of his feelings for you. But it didn’t work. He still had his feelings for you, he still cared about you more than anything and anyone else.

“I don’t know” he says and pinches the bridge of his nose. Her voice was too calm when she answered, he noticed “why wouldn’t you know? You’re dating her” he debates weather or not to just tell you the truth right now. Get it off his chest. But he remembers your real feelings and after a few seconds he sighs “I broke up with her a few weeks ago” he says gruff with his palm over his eyes “why?” He barely heard your voice. His heart is beating quickly “I realized that she wasn’t the one for me and I didn’t want to string her along” “huh”

After a pause he hears you quietly whisper “Hey Aizawa?” He sets his feet on the ground and leans forward “Hmmm?” “I broke up with him a couple months ago. He was cheating on me” he has half a mind to fly straight there and fucking murder the kid. Just kill him and dump his body in the river. After he calms himself down he let about the breath he was holding and says “oh. . . Y/n why didn’t you tell me?” He’s a little sad because maybe you were growing away from him. He hears a little bit of sadness in your voice when you respond “I didn’t want to worry you or take any time from your girlfriend” his ex girlfriend. If only you knew how much he loved you, he can’t help but sadly laugh “you know that you’re more important to me than anyone. Y/n! Come on” he admits in a whisper “That’s why I broke up with her”

“can I ask you something?” Your voice was quiet, it immediately worried him “Sure...” “how come you never asked me out in the beginning? That week after I met you I almost thought you liked me for a second” he hears the nervousness in your laugh. “Don’t you see me as a brother?” His voice was gruff although he was trying hard to just sound normal. You laugh and it catches him off guard when you say “what?! No!. What made you think that?.” But I heard her, she said it. He sighed “I heard you on the phone once with your sister. You were laughing and you said in a horrified voice how you only see him as a brother and anything more grossed you out” this time your laugh was loud as well as your voice “Shouta Aizawa! No! That conversation was about Zashi!” His phone almost drops from his hand. Hizashi. She was talking about hizashi. And he wasted years of love thinking you’d never love him. What a fucking idiot. I am such a Fucking idiot he laughs loud

“oh” he says quietly, he was freaking out if he was being honest and you laugh ““y/n, I ...” he starts but stops when he hears you say at the same time “Aizawa, I ..” he smiles but hears your laugh cut out and someone on the other side yelling by your roommate. “I have to go. The dorms are being attacked. We will finish this conversation after we’re done and everyone’s safe.” He’s sitting up straight now, nervous for you “Y/n! Be careful. I know you’re strong. I believe in you!” He tries to send you his energy through the phones “Thank you. Talk to you soon” and you hang up. He tries to go back to work, he’s doing paperwork during his free time between classes and lunch but he can’t help but he worried for you and constantly checking his phone.

When you call again half an hour later you’re yelling as soon as he presses answer, it makes him laugh before he realizes it means you got hurt. You only ever get crazy energy when you get hurt fighting. “Shouta! The kids are fine! I’ll be fine as well once the stitches are done” there we are he hates when you’re hurt. It’s the worst for him. Your laugh was awkward before you spoke again “I’m coming home! I got a plane ticket. I have the next couple weeks off because of this attack and I need to see you. It’s been too long. And.. I .. I think that I should probably tell you this now, in case there is an accident and I never see you again. I think it’s time to be brave!” He laughs worriedly. You’re coming home? Youre worried about a plane crash?“youre coming home? What’s going on?” Your voice was wild as you continued “I don't wanna say something wrong or be weird so if this comes out wrong let’s just forget about it. And if you're still in love with her then we will just pretend that I didn’t say anything. Two years away from you has felt like forever. I tried to find the right time to tell you but it never happened. I chickened out. Like the time I asked how was fall semester? I wanted to tell you how much I loved talking to you every single night. And that conversation we had about your favorite band? Spur of the moment because what I really wanted was to tell you how much I missed hugging you.” In love with her? What is she talking about? What is she gonna say wrong? He’s standing up at his desk now, his heart rate quick “Y/n take a breath and tell me what you’re trying so hard to tell me” hes trying to stay calm he hears you take a deep breath “okay. Here it goes. Ill tell you. Shouta. I’m gonna say it” He laughs. He knows you so well. You’re nervous “stop stalling” he keeps his voice calm. You laugh and then speak the clearest thing he’s heard from you yet “I’m coming home for a couple weeks, if the plane happens to crash tonight and I never get to see you again I’d want you to know that I am in ..”

“IN WHAT?? IN WHAT Y/N?!” He’s yelling in his phone now, yours must have died. At the complete wrong time “FUCK!” He starts to pace and tries to call you back a couple times just getting your machine. He stops and takes a deep breath. “Calm down. She’ll call you back” she’ll say what she meant. She’ll say she’s in trouble. She is in a choir group maybe. Maybe she’s in need of some R and R. Or she’ll say she’s in love with me. God I hope that’s the one. Fuck here’s my next class

When he checks his phone at three, he curses under his breath. Of course he missed her call he was teaching. Fucking 17 hour time difference.

He puts his phone to his ear to listen.

“I’m sorry. My phone died and I don’t have much time before I get on the plane” his heart races as he hears you running through the airport in the background , he turns towards the window in his class room plugging his other ear “my phone is going to die again so I’ll be quick. I’ve been in love you with for as long as I can remember.” He stops breathing. that’s it. His wish. His biggest dream. The message continues “I didn’t realize until I left you. My plane gets there in 13 hours if you feel the same pick me up. If you don’t then I’ll go back right away and we can pretend this never...” the message ends and he asumes your phone died again. Okay. He thinks okay. 13 from the time she called at 12:30pm. That makes it 1:30 am. He has so much to do until then.

[simplybakugou]

Off the Deep End

↝ In a world of supernatural and all powerful quirks, Bakugou is baffled when he has to help a mermaid save her kingdom against his arch nemesis.

PROMPT: “You’re a what now?!”

⋆ PAIRING: prohero!bakugou x mermaid!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing ⋆ WORD COUNT: 6011

A/N: Here’s my submission for the @bnhabookclub​ mermay event! I may or may not have made Monoma the villain because it was funny to me I swear that I don’t hate him lmao. Also I’m sorry if this is probably the worst thing you’ve ever read lol

Tagging: @sipsteainanxiety​ shay thank you for your sweet words during our sprints. I hope you enjoy this :)

✐posted 5.31.2020���

“I can’t believe I’m listening to your bullshit right now,” Bakugou grumbled into his phone over the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks, looking around the dock. 

“Dude, Sero and I are telling you that there’s something really weird happening around there!” Kaminari urged on the other line, the panic evident in his voice. “I read that so many people patrolled in that area and they said that something fishy’s going on. Just check it out for me?”

Bakugou laughed. “Are you too fucking scared to check it out yourself?”

“No!” Kaminari blurted in annoyance. “It’s just… electricity and water aren’t a good combination.”

“Sounds like a fucking excuse to me but whatever. I’ll see what you’re whining about.” Bakugou hung up shortly after, shoving the device into his back pocket as he walked along the wooden panels. He scanned the area, not seeing anything out of the ordinary or anything to be frightful for. That idiot’s complaining for nothin’...

The only peculiar thing about this sector was that usually docks and ports would have various boats attached to it but this had nothing, just a wooden walkway staring right into the mouth of the ocean. Bakugou shrugged, assuming that his friends were blindly believing blatantly idiotic rumors. He wouldn’t be surprised if this was a prank they were trying to pull either as the pair would often mess around with him and attempt to send him off on wild goose chases.

With that thought in mind, Bakugou walked off into the opposite direction, making his way towards his car so he could get back to his agency until the sound of laughter stopped him in his tracks, one that sounded like bells ringing and echoing in the air. He spun around, eyes averting in all directions to try and locate the source of the melodic laughter. The area was abandoned and the sun beaming in the sky would reveal anyone roaming around easily. That was why Bakugou was even more baffled when the sound repeated, loud enough to be heard over the collision of the splashing waves. 

Not thinking twice, Bakugou approached the source of the sound, believing that this was what Kaminari and Sero were so afraid of. He got to the end of the dock, his feet on the edge as he attempted to search for the mysterious voice once more.

“What the fuck am I even doing here?” Bakugou grumbled to himself, deciding to head back after failing to find the voice and once again annoyed with himself for even coming here in the first place.

“Whoa, I didn’t think people actually came on this side of the portside anymore,” a voice quipped just as Bakugou was walking away.

He turned around, taking a few steps back as he gasped to see a person in the water, smiling up at him. “The fuck you think you’re doing?! It’s too dangerous to be in the water!”

You were taken aback by his sudden concern, your lips curling upwards in amusement. “Now this is odd. It’s not everyday a human is worried about me.”

“What are you--” Bakugou stopped as he saw you dove underwater, causing Bakugou to toss his shoes and phone to the side. Even if he was off duty for his job, he was still a hero and he wouldn’t let anyone drown themselves, no matter how stupid they were for doing so.

Just as he was about to begrudgingly jump into the water, your head popped back up, even more amused than you were before. A human was willing to risk his life to save you. Bakugou sighed, irritated that he was even entertaining you or that you were pleased by this in the first place. “You think this is funny? Just get out of the fucking water, you’re wasting my time.”

You laughed, the sound ringing in Bakugou’s ears. “I’m sorry, maybe this will make more sense if I do this.”

Before Bakugou could question what you were doing this time, you swam over to the edge of the dock, hoisting yourself up over one of the many ginormous boulders lodged into the side. Bakugou nearly choked at the sight before him, feeling like his eyes were deceiving him.

But it was not a deception. There you were, sitting atop the boulder, with two shells covering your chest and the rest of your upper body adorned with miniature seashells. Your lower half was inhuman as a large tail, iridescent hues of blue and purple sheen covering it. 

“As you can see I’m not human, so you don’t have to worry about me,” you said, grinning from ear-to-ear, completely beguiled by his flabbergasted expression. It was always funny whenever humans reacted this way to seeing you, although it had been years since you’d last seen a human. “I’m a mermaid.”

“Y-You’re a what now?!” Bakugou asked, absolutely bewildered. When Kaminari had informed him about odd occurrences happening in this dock in the past, Bakugou suspected anything but a mermaid to appear.

You maneuvered down the boulder using your arms, settling back in the water and swimming closer to the dock to get a better look at Bakugou. He took a step back, flustered by how intense your staring was. “W-What? Why’re you giving me that weird ass look?”

You chuckled, resting your head in your hands. “The last times humans showed up in this part, they came because they wanted to see the ‘legend’ of the mermaids that live here. And everytime I had to deal with those humans, I had to scare them off so that my people could live in peace. This is the first time someone has come here without any ill intentions.”

Bakugou took a small step forward, looking down to verify once more that your tail was real and not a figment of his imagination. You giggled, lifting your tail up slightly above the water. “It’s real. You weren’t imagining anything.”

Bakugou felt disconcerted by this whole situation, unable to comprehend what to do or how to go about this. He knew he had to return to work soon but he didn’t know how to just walk away from this knowing that you were a full fledged mermaid. You rose a brow at him. “You’re not going to go to your friends and have them come down here, are you? Because I’m really not looking to have a fight with anyone.”

Bakugou shook his head slowly. “It’s none of their business to come down here. I just came ‘cause my friend’s a fucking pussy and was nagging me to check out this area.”

You smiled, grateful and also a little surprised that a human had no desire to exploit you and your species’ existence. “I appreciate it. You know… you’re not that bad. I’ve always despised you humans for everything that you’ve done, but I think you’re pretty okay.”

Bakugou scoffed, looking off to the side. “Whatever.”

You laughed at his reaction, looking up at him and taking in his features. He looked nothing like any human you’d ever seen. His hair was spiky, not budging against the rhythm of the wind beating against it. His eyes were the brightest, most intense shade of scarlet red, making you feel intimidated just by one look. And yet he was handsome, too. 

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” You said bluntly. 

Bakugou’s eyes widened, his cheeks inflamed. “Shut up! Just mind your business and do whatever fish shit you do. I’m leaving.”

You watched as he stomped off, ten times more amused than you were before. He was interesting to say the least, and you were hoping that he would keep his word and not bring any unwanted attention to your existence. But somehow, you felt like you could trust this beautiful stranger.

***

Since that day, Bakugou felt himself physically and mentally drawn to the dock. He started out by stopping by occasionally, curious to see you once more. Your mere existence intrigued him, although he would never admit it. Slowly with time, his visits became more frequent and you began catching him in his act. So you joined him, talking to the only human you’d ever met that was curious about you solely because he wanted to get to know you.

And you wanted to know more about him, often finding yourself waiting by the boulders for his visits. And the more you two met, the more you learned about one another. It was your first time meeting a pro hero, understanding why Bakugou felt obligated to help you when first meeting you.

And Bakugou learned about you and your kingdom. You were a princess of an underwater kingdom called Coara, guarding your kingdom from prying and nosy humans, many of whom were scientists who would go as far as wanting to dissect you and your people if they had gotten their grubby hands on you. Bakugou frowned whenever he heard the anger in your voice when voicing your opinion on how aggravated and fed up you had been with such pestering people. 

You were interesting to say the least. Most people’s first impressions of Bakugou were mostly negative, people often complaining about his abrasiveness or that he was too rude for their liking. But not to you. Even the way he spoke to you was intriguing for you, you finding yourself into him even more than you already were.

But the more you thought about him and were around him, the more you felt unsettled by your new friendship. All your life you had worked to gain this peace that had finally remained. You warned yourself that humans were bad news, vowing to reprimand anyone who so much as approached this area. And yet you wanted to be around Bakugou more and more, feeling disappointed if he didn’t show up on certain days due to his demanding occupation.

And just like any other day, you waited by the boulders, growing impatient as the sun had begun to set, casting an orange hue over the sea. “He’s late…” you muttered to yourself, returning back underwater for the remainder of the night.

Although Bakugou had informed you previously that his job had irregular working times, meaning it was never certain that he was free on certain days, you felt annoyed with him. In fact, for the past few days he hadn’t shown up at your usual spot. Since he never had any way of contacting you, as you were a mermaid and had no reason to be acquainted with human-made technological devices like cell phones, Bakugou was never able to tell you when he wouldn’t be able to see you. If he were being completely honest, he still couldn’t believe that he was regularly meeting with a mermaid in the first place. 

So for his lack of visits, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea, Y/N,” one of your closest friends urged, looking around the dock as it had been quite some time since she had even bothered to go above the surface from the safety of her underwater home.

You waved her off. “It’s fine, Alicia. As long as no one else finds out about this, which is why I trust that you won’t say a word about this to the others.”

Alicia scoffed. “Of course not, Your Highness.”

You gave her a look as she laughed at you teasingly. “You know you’re the only one allowed to not call me that because it weirds me out when you say it.”

She grinned, throwing her arm over your shoulder. “That’s because we’ve been stuck to the hip since day one! I’d do anything for you.”

You smiled softly, looking around the area once more to confirm that no one was watching or listening in. Then you reached over to the dock, pulling yourself up with the help of Alicia pushing the rear of your tail. Twisting your body around you sat back, flexing your tail above water.

“No turning back now!” You exclaimed, placing your hands on your tail and activating your quirk. As you were a mermaid, you still were born with quirks like humans. Similar to how some animals have intellectual type quirk that allow them to communicate with humans, you still had a quirk. Your quirk was Legs, giving you the ability to provide yourself and others with human legs at your command. You could also take them away at will and this quirk only benefited those who didn’t already have legs. It was an odd quirk but it was yours. It was often used in the past, back when the people of Coara were interested in human life, and you and your mother had the same quirk. It was tradition that the first daughter of the royal family inherited this quirk as a means to make amends with the humans. But since you had taken the throne, the selfish science oriented humans had no intention of keeping an alliance as they only wanted to probe and dissect you and your people for their own benefits. It had been years since the last scientist had caused trouble, leaving you and your kingdom with a short period of peace.

And you had every intention of keeping the peace.

Using your quirk, your fingertips created an amber glow, adorning your lustrous tail into two legs. You groaned, stretching your new limbs out in the air. “It’s been a while since I’ve had these. I need to stretch them out.”

Alicia chuckled, retrieving the mound of seaweed she had collected per your request. Her quirk gave her the ability to make cloth and clothing out of any form of vegetation and plants. She needed to utilize her quirk as you couldn’t just waltz around the city with only a shell bra covering your chest and nothing covering your lower body.

“It’s pretty hot out now so I made something more freeing for you to wear,” Alicia said, handing your clothes. You quickly changed into them, slipping on your underwear, top, and shorts. She even made a pair of simple sandals out of coral and branches. In no time, you were ready to head out into the city.

“You really like him, huh?” Alicia asked, staring up at you as you rose to your feet. 

You rolled your eyes at her. “We’re friends. He’s the first person I’ve met since I was a child, roaming around the human world by my mother’s side, that has shown genuine compassion and interest in our people.”

Alicia sighed. She knew that this was more than a newfound friendship, however, you were too blinded to understand how you truly felt about Bakugou yourself. Even he didn’t know how he felt about you. “Just be careful. Please.”

You smiled, crouching down in front of her. “It’ll be alright. Trust me. I just want to see him for just a second and I’ll return as soon as possible!”

“Alright. Tell your boyfriend I said ‘hi’!” Alicia called out teasingly, earning a glare from you as you strode off towards the city.

***

It took about twenty minutes for you to find your way into the city as it had been quite some time since your last visit. Nevertheless you made your way through, stopping and asking bystanders for directions to Bakugou’s agency.

On the other hand, Bakugou obviously didn’t suspect a thing. He was patrolling around the sector as he usually did, keeping an eye out for peculiar events. Kirishima joined him that day, walking beside him as the two men strode through the city. 

“It’s not everyday that we’re asked to patrol together,” Kirishima commented, waving to a fan who was quite excited for his favorite hero to be out and about in public.

“Makes my life easier so I can leave early,” Bakugou responded as the two turned the corner.

Kirishima glanced over at him. “Why, you got someone you’ve been dying to see?”

Bakugou was startled, regaining his composure to not give any hints. How did he know? “The fuck are you talking about? I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Come on, ever since Kaminari and Sero made you go to that weird place you always seem too busy to hang out with us.” Kirishima looked over at Bakugou as he seemed irritated. He didn’t want anyone to find out about your existence, understanding that you and your people’s lives would be put in danger. And he didn’t know what he would do with himself if he were responsible for anything that could happen to you.

Before Kirishima could prod any further into the matter, the two heroes stopped in their tracks, Bakugou personally getting ever more agitated than he already was at the sight of Monoma standing in their path.

“Monoma, I didn’t know you were in town,” Kirishima said.

Monoma smirked. “I’ve been around. More importantly, looks like Mr. Number One here is going to fall down in the rankings soon enough.”

Bakugou didn’t bother responding, ignoring him and walking right past him, causing Monoma to be taken aback. He turned around, staring Bakugou down. “You’re not even concerned with what I just said?”

Bakugou turned his head around, glaring at Monoma. “I don’t give a single flying fuck about whatever it is you’re running your trap for. I’ve got better things to do than hear you spew out some weird ass bullshit.”

Kirishima stifled his laughter, catching up to Bakugou with a few strides. Monoma’s agency had tried for years now to help Monoma reach his way up to the rankings, only able to reach the number two spot and falling short from Bakugou himself. Bakugou was simply the indisputable best, no matter how hard Monoma tried to dethrone him from the rankings.

And this absolutely infuriated him.

Monoma huffed, annoyed with the blonde who had gotten on his nerves since their days back in U.A. “I guess the rumors are true. You’ve changed these last few months. I wonder why that is…”

Bakugou stopped walking, now a few feet away from Monoma. He didn’t like the way he spoke, his words indicating that he was keeping something from him. For the final time he turned his head, staring daggers in Monoma's direction. “Keep worrying about falling from the rankings instead of being up my ass all the fucking time, dipshit.”

Bakugou kept moving, Kirishima keeping up with his pace as the pair made their way back to Bakugou’s agency. Kirishima chuckled. “Man, I’ve never really liked Monoma but he’s been pretty obsessed with you ever since you were named number one. It’s a little weird if you ask me.”

“I can barely remember that fucker’s name. I really don’t give a shit about what he does, so long as he’s not bothering me,” Bakugou mumbled as the two of them waited by the stoplight at the intersection in front of the agency. The light finally changed to green and Bakugou and Kirishima crossed the street, opening the giant glass doors to the building. Kirishima went over to the receptionists, filing any reports they had to complete.

“Ground Zero, there’s someone here who wanted to see you,” one of the receptionists said. “She’s waiting in the office.”

“Alright,” Bakugou said, mentally agitated as he didn’t want to deal with anyone right now. Nevertheless, he made his way down the hall and into his office, prepared to meet an annoying official working for the government or a crazed reporter that somehow was able to break into his agency. But he was pleasantly surprised to see a woman’s back facing him as he entered his office.

“What is this about?” Bakugou asked the woman curtly.

You turned around, causing Bakugou to nearly stop breathing. He didn’t know how, but you looked even more stunning standing in front of him than you did in your mermaid form. Your hair was slightly damp, the locks curling upwards. But your skin was practically gleaming against the light in the room, your smile sealing the deal that could cause Bakugou’s heart to palpitate irregularly in no time.

Just as he thought you couldn’t amaze him more, you did tenfold. “H-How the…”

You laughed, amused like you always were with the way he tended to be speechless by your mere presence. “Surprised to see me? I thought I’d pay a visit.”

Bakugou was absolutely bewildered, eyes widened and mouth agape with incredulity. “But you’re a fucking mermaid? Where’s your tail? How are you standing? What--”

“I have a quirk that lets me turn my tail into legs,” you stated blankly. “It’s nothing too special, my family has had a long line of inheritance with this quirk and I decided to use it since it’s been a while.”

“And why did you come? I was gonna stop by today,” Bakugou asked, waiting and wanting to hear you say what he wanted to hear.

You paused momentarily, your (E/C) eyes boring into his vermillion ones. You visually travelled down his figure, taking in his hero costume that you hadn’t seen previously. His biceps bulged out, his stature taller than what you had expected. He was even more handsome standing before than he was sitting beside you.

Bakugou felt himself blush under your obvious staring as you didn’t want to mask what you were doing or how you were feeling. You looked back into his eyes. “I missed you, Bakugou. I can’t explain why, but I missed you. And I couldn’t stand waiting idly by for you to come to me. So here I am.”

Before Bakugou could be even more flustered than he already was, the door to his office opened wide, a certain dark-haired man swinging his arm around Bakugou. “It’s been a while, man! Where have you been?” Sero exclaimed excitedly. Kirishima stood behind him at the door and the two men finally acknowledged you, shocked to see such a stunning woman in Bakugou’s office. Sero had stopped by as Kirishima had texted him, letting him know that he and Bakugou were back in the agency. But they were both pleasantly surprised by your presence.

Sero looked over at Bakugou, recognizing the light pink tinted on his cheeks as he smirked, putting two and two together. “Man, so this is what you’ve been doing recently!”

Bakugou glared at him, shaking Sero off him. As he knew two of his closest friends well enough to understand that they would pester you and bombard you with thousands of questions, he took matters into his own hands by grabbing your forearm and leading you out of the office.

Ignoring Kirishima and Sero’s shouts behind him as well as the stares he received from his receptionists, Bakugou led you out of the building and back to the streets. You looked down at where Bakugou was holding you, his hand still warm under his gloves. It was the first time a human had touched you.

Once he could confirm that his friends weren’t behind him following him, Bakugou let go of you, keeping his distance but still walking beside you. He looked off to the side, not wanting you to see his inflamed face. “I’ll walk you back to the dock. It’s not safe for you here.”

You smiled at him. “I appreciate your concern but you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve been amongst humans like this before.”

“Just… let me do this for you, alright?” Bakugou urged gently.

Regardless you nodded, smiling to yourself. Humans were more interesting than they had seemed before, or at least Bakugou was in a league of his own. You wanted to know everything about him, you wanted to constantly be around him, and he was all that was on your mind lately. You were slowly understanding that what you were feeling for him was crossing the line from friendship to something more and it frightened you. All your life you had known humans to be vile, selfish creatures who would do anything for their own gain. But here you were walking beside the most considerate man you’d ever met, exceeding the mermen of your kingdom in both looks and personality. 

But as much as you liked him, you didn’t want to pry any further. He was still a human and you were a ruler of a kingdom. You had decided to end things here, savoring and basking in the moment as much as you could until you had to finally cut all ties with Bakugou. And you knew when that moment would arrive, you wouldn’t be able to recover for a while. You had spent almost every evening with him on that dock, your special place with him, talking for hours upon hours. You liked how flustered he would get whenever you complimented his looks or how proud he seemed when he spoke about his occupation and passion. You could hear him talk, even if he was just cursing someone out, all day long. But soon enough, you would never hear from him again.

You shook your head, wanting to rid your mind of such saddening thoughts, deciding to change the subject instead. “Is it okay to leave your friends like that?”

“They’ll live. Your secret is more important right now,” Bakugou said, not realizing how touched you had been by his words. He truly had every intention of keeping your identity a secret and the more you were around him, the more you were falling for him. This was slowly becoming a dangerous situation, but you didn’t care, not in the moment at least. 

You looked down at your feet as the two of you made your way back to the dock, the amount of people around you decreasing as you got closer. And the closer you got, the more despondent you became as you realized this was the last moment you would have with him.

“What’s wrong?” Bakugou asked, snapping you away from your thoughts.

You looked up at him abruptly, his scarlet eyes penetrating right through your soul and being. You smiled reassuringly. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Bakugou looked over at you, deciding to drop the subject once the two of you finally reached the dock.  

As you grew closer, a blonde man who you didn’t recognize stood on the dock, looking around the area. He was particularly looking down into the water, directly above your kingdom. You felt your heart stop as you began to become frantic that your home was found.

Bakugou extended his arm in front of you, ceasing your footsteps as you moved to confront the man. “Don’t go. You’ll get in danger. I’ll deal with him.” You looked at Bakugou, who had an expression you had never seen. He was calm and yet his nostrils were flared. You knew he was livid. 

Bakugou trudged towards the man, infuriated to see Monoma poking his nose where he didn’t belong. “The fuck do you think you’re doing here?”

Monoma smirked, looking beyond Bakugou’s shoulder to see you, staring you up and down and intently at your legs. You felt disgusted by his gaze, wanting to jump back into the water as soon as possible.

Monoma flicked his gaze back to Bakugou. “The rumors are that you’ve got a girlfriend which is why you’ve been slacking off recently. So I followed you over here a few days ago to see that you’ve got a mermaid by your side now. Even more interesting…” His voice trailed off and he smirked at you as you grimaced under his stare. “She looks exactly like a human.”

He let out a bellowing laugh, exasperating Bakugou even more than he already did with his presence alone. “It’d be a shame if more people found out about this…”

Bakugou didn’t hesitate or think twice to grab Monoma by the collar, his fingers curling against the fabric as uncontrollable sparks emerged from both hands. “If you even think about opening your trap up about this I’ll rip you apart limb from fucking limb.”

Although Monoma wouldn’t admit it, he was slightly intimidated by Bakugou’s threat, but even more so he found this whole situation to have been a stroke of luck. He knew exactly what he had to do. Monoma brought his hand up, grabbing Bakugou’s forearm that was clutching his collar. “Tell you what, I’ll let this whole thing go. If I’m being honest,” his eyes whipped over to you, causing a shiver to go down your spine, “I really don’t give a damn about you and your fish people. That’s the last thing I care about. I’ll let this all go… on one condition.”

“Spit it out, you bitch, you’re testing my patience,” Bakugou snarled through gritted teeth. 

Monoma chuckled humorlessly, smirking at you once more. You felt disgusted and defeated all at once. You had promised your people that this was a time for peace, that you wouldn’t let the humans that you hated so much ruin anything for you and your kingdom. And here was a human threatening the life of Coara like the lives of the mermaids and mermen meant nothing and were replaceable. 

You wanted to despise humans as much as you had before, but you couldn’t. Not when Bakugou was a human as well.

“I’ll let this go… if you give up your ranking.” Monoma laughed once more, feeling Bakugou’s grip loosen from the shock. 

Bakugou had worked day and night, protecting civilians left and right and defeating any villain that came his way to be number one. Even you understood this as Bakugou had explained hero rankings and how hard he worked. You could see he was a respectable man who would do anything to show others his worth. And here was a spineless bastard trying to rip it all away from Bakugou. 

Monoma shook Bakugou’s hand from him, smirking cruelly at him. “You see, I know you won’t give up your ranking for some rotten fish. Either way, I’m going to enjoy watching your little girlfriend’s life crumble before your very eyes--”

Before Monoma could yap and run his mouth more than he already had, Bakugou sent a right hook flying, contacting Monoma’s jaw and pummeling him to the floor of the wooden dock. You gasped, not suspecting him to do that, and took a few steps towards him. He turned his head at you, raising his hand to stop you from getting closer. He didn’t know what Monoma would do to you just to spite him. You felt hopeless, wanting to help Bakugou and your people were still in the back of your mind. What was the right thing to do in this situation? What could you do?

Monoma spit the blood out from his mouth, wiping his bloodied lip and rose to his feet. He cackled once more. “I knew you were too much of a coward to do--”

“I’ll do it,” Bakugou said in one breath, causing you and Monoma to be appalled.

“Bakugou! Don’t do it!” You called out in concern. You would do anything for your people but not at the expense of years of hard work Bakugou had put in. 

Bakugou ignored you momentarily. “I’ll give it up, my ranking. But if you take back your work I’ll fucking--”

Monoma rose a hand up in the air to cease his threats. “Don’t worry about that, I don’t give a damn about you or your girlfriend.” He extended his hand out at Bakugou, grinning in absolute delight. “We have a deal?”

Bakugou stared at his pale hand, his own fists clenching at his sides. Even so, he didn’t hesitate to shake hands with his nemesis, gripping his hand as tightly as he could. Monoma winced, wriggling his hand from Bakugou’s hold and rubbing it once he got free. Monoma laughed once more, walking past Bakugou and towards you. You stepped to the side, wanting to avoid him at all costs. He looked down at you, smirking. “For some rotten fish, you’re pretty hot.”

You wanted to puke from anger and disgust, staring daggers into his back as he walked away with delight and glee. Monoma waved his hand back. “I’ll send the paperwork to your office tonight, Ground Zero.”

Once he was a considerable distance from you, you ran towards Bakugou, joining him on the dock. “Why did you do that? Why would you give your ranking up?”

Bakugou sighed, looking down at the water and the boulders that you always sat upon during your frequent meetings. He slipped his gloves, boots, and socks off, sitting on the edge of the dock and dipping his feet into the water. You watched as he did so, not understanding his silence. Nonetheless, you joined him, slipping off the sandals Alicia made you and sitting right beside him. This was the closest the two of you had ever physically been.

“It didn’t feel right,” Bakugou said, avoiding your eye contact. “It’s my fucking fault that dipshit found out. I couldn’t just walk away knowing that I was putting you in danger.”

You smiled softly, shaking your head. “I’ve dealt with idiots like him before. I would’ve been fine. But you worked so hard to get where you are now.”

Bakugou turned to face you, his eyes just as intense as they always were. “You don’t get it. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you. A ranking is a fucking ranking. I know I’m the best, that fucknut weaseled his way into becoming the new number one now. But your life means more to me than that.”

You were astonished, blown away by his selflessness. But Bakugou didn’t recognize his actions as being selfless as he continued blaming himself for putting your life in danger. And you recognized this by his hurt expression as he was physically grimacing. You smiled, lifting your hand up and cupping his cheek. Your palms were cold against Bakugou’s cheek, sending tingles down his spine, but your fingertips held the softest touch. “You’re amazing, Bakugou. This isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you, not even a little bit. I chose to see you everyday, I could’ve just stayed in my palace if I didn’t want to see you. But I came here because I like being around you.”

Bakugou stared at you, basking in your beauty. He had never met anyone like you as you were truly a one of kind being. You were tenderhearted, a leader, ambitious, and driven for others. Bakugou knew by now that he had no control over his feelings for you, not giving a damn about the consequences. He wanted to hold you, protect you against anyone who would even think of harming you.

“Do you regret being with me? Do you regret meeting with a human that could harm your people?” Bakugou questioned.

You shook your head, not hesitating to answer immediately. “There isn’t a fiber in me that feels that way. Being with you has given me faith in humanity.” You took back your thoughts earlier, knowing full well you couldn’t abandon him now, not when he protected you.

Bakugou nodded. “Alright. Then don’t mind when I do this.”

Before you could let the words ‘do what?’ escape from your lips, Bakugou closed the gap between the two of you, gently locking your lips with his own. It was a pleasant surprise, making you realize that humans were softer than they seemed. He smelled of burnt sugar, locking in how sweet he truly was. He was gentle despite how caustic he seemed to others. But you knew him, you had spent months with him, and you had no intention of letting him go now.

You pulled away, your chest rising and falling slowly. He was beautiful, more beautiful than you could ever describe into words. You were willing to go off the deep end for him, the stunning human who risked his career for your life. And you had no intention of leaving him.

[schrijverr]

'Till Death Do Us Part

Part 3 out of 13

When Alex has to bring Philip to work, he and Thomas discover that they both have something in common: they lost their love. They form an unexpected bond and connection about this that grows into something more.

A medium burn with parental feelings about Philip and flowers.

On AO3.

Ships: Jamilton

Warnings: grief and mentions of unhealthy coping, terminal illness and death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3: Virginian Spiderwort Means ‘Momentary Happiness’

“Eat lunch,” a sandwich along with a muffin and coffee was dropped on Alex’s desk, who jumped slightly in his seat and looked up.

“What?” he asked dumbly.

Thomas rolled his eyes: “You’ve been at it since six, I don’t even know why you were in that early that’s ridiculous, who comes in that early on a Thursday? And I haven’t seen you leave once. You need to eat, so eat, dumbass.”

“How do you know I started at six?”Alex asked.

“I didn’t, you send me an email around then, so I made a guess and you just confirmed it,” Thomas shrugged, ignoring Alex’s squawk, “Now eat.”

Alex picked up the lunch and started eating, while Thomas dropped into the chair opposite of him and watched him, sipping his own coffee.

“You’re just gonna sit there and watch me the entire time? Where is your lunch?”

“Already ate it and yes,” Thomas answered, “I know how this goes, you’ll come up with a good sentence and stop eating to write it down and then it’s a few hours later.”

Alex looked guilty and chastised, so he closed his laptop, which he had been staring at, and focused on Thomas: “So, how have you been?”

“That’s so awkward, I feel bad for us both,” Thomas cringed.

“Well, I’m sorry that I am not a great conversationalist,” Alex threw up his hands in defeat.

“According to Angie you are,” Thomas immediately regretted it, he didn’t want Alex to know he and Angelica talked about him.

“Yeah, but most of the time people I’m talking to aren’t you.” Fuck, was that too revealing? Did Thomas know he was struggling, because of stupid feelings?

“I’m sorry my face upsets you,” Thomas rolled his eyes, misinterpretingthe comment“Anyway, how did you get in so at six, I’m pretty sure schools don’t start that early. Where did you put Philip?”

“Oh, Pip is with Eliza and Maria for the week,” he said, “Eliza is so busy after the opening of the orphanage and they thought having a kid comfortable with them there would help the others get out of their shell and Pip had missed his Aunties. He’s staying till Wednesday.”

“And you decided that working abnormal amounts was smart when you got a bit of a break from your usual responsibilities?” Thomas judged, not so silently.

Alex grinned sheepishly and shrugged: “It’s what I do best, but I’m not being a complete dumbass, I leave a a somewhat normal time, I swear.”

“Hmmh.”

“I’m serious, I promised Angie I’d leave each day before six and she checks, it’s terrifying,” Alex shuddered and Thomas laughed: “Hear, hear.”

After that Alex quickly ate his lunch while they talked about the latest meeting, which lead to Alex complaining about Lee and Adams and how they could go fuck themselves.

When his lunch had completely disappeared, Thomas got up to leave. Before he could, however, Alex called out: “Hey, Thomas?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks again. For, you know, checking up on me,” he said awkwardly, “If you, like, ever need help or something, call me, okay?”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Thomas promised, not thinking the day he would take Alex up on it would come anytime soon.

He was wrong in that assessment, because that Monday he called Alex, hands shaking and eyes blurry.

“Thomas? What is it? I’m already at work.” Of course he was, it was only 6:15 in the morning, who wouldn’t be at work at that time.

“Can you-” a shuddery sigh that he hated, “Can you tell Wash- Washington that I’m not coming- coming in today?” he asked.

“God, Thomas, are you alright?” the worry was evident in Alex’s tone.

“Not really,” Thomas sounded small, “I didn’t want to bother you, but Jemmy is away and I normally can handle this stuff, but it was all unexpected and now I’m here on my fucking kitchen floor calling you. Fuck.”

“I’m coming to you.” Alex said.

“You don’t need to-”

“Yes, I do. Come on, I’m not leaving you like that. You’re getting a motherfucking patented Hamilton hug, live with it,” Alex told him, “I’ll be there as soon as I can, hang in there.”

“…Okay,” the line went dead.

Alex hurried to Washington’s office, for once grateful that the man liked to come in early on Monday’s to ‘kick off the week right’ or whatever.

“Come in.”

“Sir, I’m taking the day off,” Alex burst in, “Thomas is not coming in either, he just called me. I thought, I’d let you know.”

Washington looked surprised: “You and Thomas…?” he trailed off curiously.

“Nothing like that, sir,” sadly enough, he added mentally, “He helped me out in a rough spot and I’m returning the favor. We found we had something in common.”

“Well, then go. An honest man always returns his favors, son,” Washington shooed him out of the office.

“Not your son and thank you, sir,” Alex said gratefully, before rushing off.

The drive to Thomas’s, admittedly very impressive, house took about thirty minutes and Alex was out the car and on the driveway immediately as he practically ran to the door and knocked: “Hey, hey, Thomas. It’s me, open up.”

After a moment the door swung open, revealing a Thomas Alex had never seen before.

He was in sweatpants and a loose tank top, his eyes were red-rimmed and his hair a mess. But above all, he looked small, hunched in on himself and lacking the confidence and arrogance that usually clung to him like a second skin.

Alex didn’t waste a second gathering him up into his arms. It wasn’t as comforting as it could have been because Thomas was a fucking giant and therefore could not fit into Alex’s arms completely, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

Thomas clung to him tightly, chocked off sobs being ripped out of his chest as he cried.

They just stood there in the door opening. Alex couldn't really move Thomas around like the other had done him, so he just had to wait.

“Sorry,” Thomas said after a while, his voice raw as he broke away.

“No sorry, not today, okay?” Alex told him, “Now, why don’t we set you down on the couch, yeah? It’s more comfy and definitely better than the porch.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Thomas agreed and numbly walked over to a living room, Alex trailing behind him.

Thomas collapsed on the couch, looking like a miserable heap and Alex had to pause and think of a plan of attack. He’d been a Lieutenant Colonel, he could do this. First, he needed to know the situation.

He sat down next to Thomas: “Hey, dude, can you tell me what happened? You said it was unexpected, what hit you out of nowhere?”

“Phone,” Thomas gestured vaguely to the kitchen, then didn’t elaborate beyond a, “Got an email.”

Okay, not much information, but a lead.

Alex went to the kitchen, there was an uneaten bowl of soggy cereal on the counter and a phone on the floor. He threw the cereal away and toasted some bread before he picked up the phone and read the start of the email:

My dearest, Thomas

I hope the future finds you well. Yes, the future! I found this site in which you can write emails that will be send 10 years later, so I do hope you’re still using the same email address or this will be awkward.

You may be wondering why today? It’s not a particular date for us, but I’m writing you this email because I know I won’t be there when you read it.

I had another attack today, but you know that of course, though maybe you’ve forgotten all the attacks through the years. We’ve been doing this for over three years already and I know I have not been writing the dates down.

But none of that now, this was supposed to be a pick-you-up, because I love you, dearest.

Alex stopped reading, this was not for his eyes. He quickly did the math. Thomas had said she’d died seven years ago, this was written ten years ago, so they still had three years together at this point.

God, he couldn't imagine what it was like to know your lover was dying and you could do nothing to stop it, just prepare for the inevitable.

The toast popped out the toaster and Alex locked the phone, before putting the toast on a plate and getting a glass of water. He walked back to the living room and handed Thomas the food as he gently said: “Come on, you can’t be sad on an empty stomach.”

That got a small amused huff from the Virginian, which Alex counted as a win.

He ate slowly and in silence and Alex just waited for him to gather himself. This was not a date on where you expected the missing to hit, there were no fun rituals – like on a birthday – to keep or something to celebrate or commemorate.

Just sadness.

Sudden sadness.

Alex looked at Thomas, who softly chewed on his toast. He didn’t think dragging Thomas outside today would be good for him. He needed time to process the message, to think of what his late wife wanted him to know for when she wasn’t there.

He now regretted not reading the rest of the message, just so that he could have a grip on Thomas’s thoughts, but he knew it had been the right thing to do.

When the plate was empty and the glass gone, Alex announced: “Okay, we’re having a sad couch day, but you need to tell me how to operate your TV and where you keep blankets, because you need a blanket nest to be sad in, alright.”

Thomas blinked at him owlishly for a moment, then shook his head with muted amusement and whispered: “TV is just normal and there is a guestroom, second door upstairs, I keep the blankets there.”

“Good,” Alex got up, “Are you alright for a moment?”

The other only nodded. Alex didn’t like how quiet Thomas was. He might not be the loudest person, but there would always be a presence hanging around him that made him feel like the loudest person in the room and that was now completely gone.

Alex rushed through the house, dropping of the plate and glass in the kitchen and putting on the kettle, before taking the stairs two steps at a time.

At times like these he was happy he had top surgery, because catching your breath with a binder on fucking sucked and running overall was a bad idea.

The guest room was less extravagant than he’d expected. It was decked out for comfort and stylish, but it wasn’t over the top. Actually the whole house was more stylish than expensive just for the sake of being expensive, something Alex hadn’t realized before.

Of course, the only befores there had been were company parties that Thomas had offered to host wherein he showed off on purpose.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen pictures during those parties either.

He grabbed the blankets and some pillows from the guest room and went back downstairs carefully, he didn’t want to trip or drop the blankets, but he also just wanted to be nosy.

The walls were still void of pictures.

It tugged at Alex’s heart, his own walls had been bare before he’d met John and all his other friends and they’d filled it up over the years of happy moments, but Thomas had nothing. Though he didn’t have time to dwell on it now, he had more important matters to attend to.

Thomas was still in the same position he’d left him in, staring at the still turned off TV. Alex dropped the blankets on the floor, only scooping one out of the pile to drape over Thomas’s shoulders, before finishing the tea.

How strange, he mused as he made the tea, me and Thomas are neither tea drinkers, except on days like these, except with each other.

He walked back to Thomas and handed him the mug, relieved when the other took it gratefully and let the steam warm his face as he burrowed into the blanket slightly.

Alex was still concerned about the hunched over position, which was rich coming from him, he knew, but getting lost in work and fucking up your posture was different than getting lost in grief and fucking up your posture.

So, he gently pushed Thomas back into the pillow of the couch and Thomas went easily. For all the man could fight him on every little thing at work, he wasn’t putting up a fight now and Alex was glad for that fact, even if it was slightly disturbing.

Taking the blankets, he draped them over Thomas and himself after he’d grabbed the remote and put on a nature documentary.

Thomas gave him a bemused look and Alex was never more relieved that Thomas was judging him, anything was better than that empty look in those usually lively eyes.

“It’s soothing,” he shrugged, “and low effort.”

“Fair,” Thomas nodded, his voice hoarse and raw, making Alex regret not putting honey into his tea, because it sounded like it hurt.

They sat in silence as they watched a frog hop over a leaf while the narrator told them slightly horrifying facts about the creature in a monotone voice.

After about an hour of animal facts and nature relations, Thomas spoke up: “She asked me if I had any kids yet.”

Alex looked up, but didn’t speak, just let Thomas figure it out.

“We wanted kids, I think maybe me more than her to be honest, though she loved being an aunt,” he went on, “But with her condition, well, pregnancy was just too risky and when we knew just how serious it was… Neither of us wanted to make an adopted child go through losing a parent again, so we never had kids.”

He took a shuddery breath: “And then she asked if I had them, she hoped I found that and I don’t know-”

Tears were falling again and without thinking Alex pulled Thomas into his side and Thomas didn’t protest as he burrowed his head closer. He whispered: “I always knew she wanted me to move on from her, live a good life, but hearing it again after having time to process her being gone. It’s- it’s different.”

Alex just ran a soothing hand over Thomas’s back as he thought about that. After a second he slowly said: “Knowing and accepting are different things and sometimes one is harder than the other.”

Thomas mulled over his words, then said: “Well, I hate accepting.”

He didn’t tell Thomas that moving on was good, that it was healthy. Both of them knew that well enough, they must have heard it a thousand times from concerned friends. It was always meant well, but sometimes you just didn’t want to hear it, not in moments like these.

“She told me she had something to say to me, but she didn’t know what just yet and that she had to think about it and tell me when she figured it out, because she still had time,” Thomas broke the silence again.

“That- that must be hard to read,” Alex told him.

The other nodded into his side, then said: “I think I know what it is though…”

“Do you want to share?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, she- I never realized this, but she started telling me how I would do great things and I better have a picture of her with me so that she could see it. I keep her in my wallet. I always thought she meant in the world. Big responsibility to have on my shoulders, but I tried. For her.”

Thomas fiddled with the blanket, he wasn’t looking at Alex, but he seemed content to curl up in the shorter man’s side.

“But I’m suddenly startingto think that’s not what she meant,” the words sounded small and Alex’s chest constricted painfully. He didn’t know how he would react if something he’d believed about John for years would be ripped out from under him one day without warning.

“What do you think she meant?” he asked, trying to keep Thomas talking, maybe if he said it out loud it would make more sense than when it swirled around in his head.

“I- I think she meant that I would- ugh- it’s- you had to-”

“Take your time.”

“She was always telling me about the great things in life, but she loved The Lord of the Rings, those books and movieskept her company throughout all the hospital visits. Her favorite quote was: ‘Saruman believes it is only great power that can hold evil in check, but that’s not what I found. I found it is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folks that keep the darkness at bay’,” he explained.

There was a moment of silence in which Thomas hesitated.

“It might be stupid, but I think she subconsciously absorbed that. That for her the great things were the small things,” Thomas said, “I once took her on a simple picnic and she said it was the greatest day of her life.”

Alex nodded along, he could already see where this was going, but he let Thomas set the pace of the conversation.

“I think she meant that I would get to do all the little things that made life great, have all the milestones we never got to have, but she phrased it in her own Martha-esque way,” there was a smile in his voice as he said that.

“Did she always have her own way of saying things?” Alex asked, hoping to keep whatever was bringing that smile to Thomas’s face going.

“Yeah,” a success, “she read a lot and she listened to a lot of music. She played guitar, wrote her own lyrics too. She was great with words, much better than me. I think she just consumed so many ways people expressed themselves through words that she had her own dialect. It was completely English, but just slightly different. It’s hard to explain.”

“I get it,” Alex assured him, “She sounds wonderful.”

“Oh, you would have liked her,” Thomas said, sounding strangely proud of that fact, “She took the time to make fun of my magenta suits in her email to me,” Alex snorted at that, “And you both take no shit and it’s easy to talk to you.”

Alex was shocked at that, no one told him he was easy to talk to. He had opinions and would let you know immediately, making you debate if you disagreed with him. Sure, he could be charming, but he made you think when you talked. It wasn’t easy.

He said nothing.

“Apparently she wrote it while I was next to her,” Thomas suddenly said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I was asleep in a chair. It was after one of her attacks, I think I remember this one, because it suddenly got way more serious after that, it was the heaviest we had in months,” his voice trailed off into a whisper, “We’d thought she was doing better.”

God, Alex couldn't imagine and that voice felt like a punch in the gut, his arm reflectively tightening around Thomas.

“Fuck, in the email she said she still has time,” Thomas breathed, “I know it was still a while after that before she- she died, but- God, it fucking hurts, Alex. We knew we didn’t have forever, but reaching thirty would have been fucking nice.”

There was that all familiar anger at what could have been if faith hadn’t decided to be so cruel. Alex knew it oh so well and just watched as Thomas clenched his fist, but didn’t get up. The anger drained out of him almost as quickly as it had come and his heaving breaths turned into sobs.

And if that wasn’t familiar as well.

Alex quickly brought up the other arm and pulled Thomas into a hug. They were cocooned in blankets and cuddling on the couch and it should be weird, but it just wasn’t.

It seemed Thomas was done talking now, because he stayed silent as the time dragged on. Once Alex realized he wasn’t going to talk, he started humming. Alex had never done well with quiet, though he didn’t mind that much, but he more thought it would nice for Thomas to have something other than his thoughts to focus on.

They sat there until their stomachs decided it really was time for lunch. Alex offered to make it so that Thomas could stay seated, but while Thomas gratefully accepted his offer to make lunch, he followed him into his kitchen and sat at the table.

His eyes fell on the phone that Alex had left on the counter when he had made them tea. His fingers twitched, but he didn’t move any further than that, conflicted look on his face. Alex let him figure it out on his own and just focused on making French toast.

In the end he picked up the phone and stared at it for a moment, before putting it down on the table, screen down.

He pushed the French toast around his plate for a while, Alex didn’t say a thing, just watched him patiently. If Thomas didn’t want to eat that would be bad, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world for just a day.

It might be bad for Alex to let Thomas indulge in bad habits, but he promised himself he would make sure it was a one of thing. He managed to make sure Philip ate and slept enough despite his own inability to take care of himself, he could do the same for Thomas.

Thomas ate a few bites, it was hard to pretend to care about food right now, but Alex had tried and he knew Martha would hate him neglecting himself.

God, Martha and her stupid- No, he couldn't think that, she meant so well, but it just hurt. She should have told him.

Though that might have been worse.

He looked at his phone again, uncertainty creeping in. Would Alex think it was a bad idea to read the email again? He just wanted to know if he hadn’t imagined it. He hadn’t really committed it to his memory like all her other writings through the tears, but he doubted he would be able to read it without crying all over again.

An idea suddenly came to mind. It was a stupid idea, but Alex had seen him suggest multiple stupid ideas so it wasn’t anything new.

“Can you read it to me?” the words were out before he even realized.

“What?”

“The email,” he clarified, “Can you read it to me?”

“You’d want that?” Alex seemed unsure and Thomas could feel the doubt creeping in.

He shook it off, he’d made up his mind: “Yes, I just want to know the whole thing, but I can’t really read it, because I’ll start crying, so you have to.”

Alex hesitated for a moment: “Alright, if you’re sure…”

“I am.” Thomas unlocked the phone and handed it to Alex, trying to ignore how his hand shook slightly.

After a deep breath, Alex started:

“My dearest, Thomas

I hope the future finds you well. Yes, the future! I found this site in which you can write emails that will be send 10 years later, so I do hope you’re still using the same email address or this will be awkward.

You may be wondering why today? It’s not a particular date for us, but I’m writing you this email because I know I won’t be there when you read it.

I had another attack today, but you know that of course, though maybe you’ve forgotten all the attacks through the years. We’ve been doing this for over three years already and I know I have not been writing the dates down.

But none of that now, this was supposed to be a pick-you-up, because I love you, dearest.

I know I tell you all the time, but maybe you haven’t heard this in a while by now, so I’m telling you again. I love you so incredibly much and you deserve all the love in the world and I hope you have someone to remind you.

It might seem strange for your wife to hope you have found love again, but I truly do hope you went on to live a happy life with people who love you and make you happy.

God, maybe you’ll have kids.

If you do, tell them that their Aunt Martha is watching over them from the stars. I promise to guide their little feet home to you safely and sing them lullabies when they’re having a nightmare, just a song between them and the moon.

I don’t want my passing to be the end for you. I have seen your soul and I know there is so much in store for you, I just can’t place my finger on what, but I still have time to figure it out and I’ll tell you when I do.

Now that I’m writing this, I honestly don’t know what to tell you. I thought I would have a hundred pages ready for you, but I don’t.

You know that moment when you have dinner with someone, but you’ve been with each other the whole day, so you can’t ask them how their day has been? It’s kind of like that.

I have seen you the entire day today and if I hadn’t I can tell you in person in a bit, but by the time you’re reading this, you’ve had time to make new memories without me and you can only tell them to my grave or my picture.

This is so morbid. Sorry, dearest.

I could take more time to think about what I want to write you, but I have this strong urge to finish it now. It’s almost like I’m running out of time. I am, in a way. But I still have tomorrow, the doctors said I’ll make it through the night with no problem and I’ll be discharged tomorrow. They say I have a good chance at a few more years and by God I hope they’re right.

It’s ironic how you’re asleep in an uncomfortable hospital chair by my side as I’m writing this.

You stress too much. It makes you look old. I know I’ve always joked about you being an old man, but you don’t have to make it a reality by aging from the stress.

I hope the creases by your eyes become more pronounced than the ones on your forehead. I hope so many things for you and I hate that I can never give you all the care you’ve given me.

You’re a good man, Thomas. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

I know you worry. You worry too much, just like the stress. Just promise me you won’t give in to all the doubt you create for yourself. Appearances aren’t everything, I know you care about style (the magenta suits are really taking it a bit too far, you are lucky I love you, you ridiculous man), but try comfort every once in a while as well, okay?

Now, I’m sounding like my mother, God this whole email has gotten out of hand…

Not that I had much of a plan to start with. I saw this and just had to write to you, to tell you how worthy you are and how much I wanted to have a forever with you.

It feels rude in a way to write you like this, you might have moved on, created a new life and I’m disrupting it from beyond, but I know you, Thomas, I know you so well that it hurts sometimes and I also know that you have a hard time letting go.

I hope you have that life we could never have.

I hope you’ve found a job that makes you happy, with a spouse that cares for you and a picket white fence that America tries to sell in every movie with a happy ending.

But I fear that you got stuck on us, on me.

And while I am flattered if that is the case (and not bitter if it isn’t, God I’m so happy for you if I’m wrong, dearest), then I want you to know it’s okay to move on, it’s okay to live.

God, this is one depressing sappy mess.

But we’re both kind of sappy depressing messes, aren’t we? You brought me flowers to the hospital today, you remembered my favorites are Virginian Spiderworts. Did you know they mean ‘momentary happiness’?

Momentary happiness, like I said: depressingly sappy.

I don’t know if I told you the meaning, but it is an interesting bouquet to bring to a hospital bed of someone terminally ill, you know? And I love you for it. Never change, Thomas, never change. Stay my sweet little dork, I beg you. If someone tries to change you, tell em no or I will come beat them up for you.

I will forever protect you, I promise.

I think this is good and if it isn’t you won’t really get to leave a review, so I’ll be safe either way. So, this is it, this is goodbye, for now at least. I still have the luxury of giving you a hug when you wake up and I’m gonna keep doing that till the end.

Stay strong, I love you,

Martha, your beloved wife”

In the end they were both crying and Alex was impressed with himself that he had managed to make it to the end. The email gave him more questions about Thomas, but he it wasn’t really the time to ask about his late wife’s protectiveness.

He cleared his throat after a moment and said: “Martha was amazing.”

That got him a surprised chuckle as Thomas’s breathing started to become more regular. He swallowed and agreed: “God, she was.”

“Tell me more about her,” Alex requested. He remembered how nice it had been to tell Thomas about John and he found himself curious about the woman that had enchanted Thomas.

“She was the most intelligent woman I’ve ever met, and I know Angelica,” Thomas started, Alex let out a small amused huff, “Martha- Martha was the kind of person you had to look at, you know? When she walked into a room, it got brighter.”

Thomas perked up considerably when talking about Martha. He was still slightly curled into himself on the kitchen chair, but he was at least making eye contact with Alex.

“I used to be overly anxious – still am, but I’m managing – and she was always there for me when I needed it. She was a spitfire, she talked when I couldn’t and stood up for me,” Thomas confessed, “I try to embody her when I need to make a presentation.”

Alex was taken aback by it: “I didn’t know you got anxious.”

“It’s better when arguing with you, I have to think too hard on how to counter you to think about stressing,” Thomas tossed out casually, immediately hoping that wasn’t too revealing, he’d already compared the man with Martha once today.

But Alex just smiled happily, though it seemed unconscious to Thomas’s eye.

“Martha never argued with me like you do, though,” Thomas mused trying to save himself, “She would just roll her eyes at me whenever I did something she found unnecessary.”

“Like what?” Alex raised a brow with amusement.

There was probably too much glee in the man’s eyes for the question to be innocent, but Thomas didn’t care: “Well there was one time a lady stopped me on the street and she asked if I did a lot of desk work, which I did, so I said yes. Then she asked me if it made my back hurt-”

“Naturally also yes,” Alex nodded.

“Indeed, so then she asked me if she could touch me and at this point I’m scared, but too far in to say no,” Thomas tells him, “So she just put her hand on my back and starts praying.”

“She blessed you?” Alex sounded delighted and disbelieving.

“Yes and I did not want to be there. So, I was sending Martha ‘come help me, please’-looks, but she just shook her head and watched me. I think she would have stepped in, if she didn’t think it hilarious,” Thomas rolled his eyes fondly, “She always asked me if I felt blessed whenever we visited a church afterwards.”

“That is hilarious,” Alex giggled at the story and Thomas felt a strange sort of pride that he made Alex giggle like that. He’d heard the other laugh before, but never giggle. It was a light sound that eased some of the pain in Thomas’s chest.

He smiled at Alex and admitted: “Maybe in hindsight it was.”

There was a natural pause in their conversation, until Alex asked: “How are you feeling?”

Thomas thought about it for a moment. The ache he’d felt in his chest when he had seen the email that morning had dulled. It was still sharper than on most days, but it didn’t feel as overwhelming and never ending as it had done.

“Better,” he answered honestly.

“That’s good to hear,” Alex said, “Do you want to go back to the couch and watch a movie? This time I’ll even let you pick.”

“Sure,” Thomas agreed easily.

“Great, do you have popcorn or something?” Alex asked, already moving around in his kitchen to check the cabinets, not even waiting for an answer.

“Upper left,” Thomas said after a while of watching Alex struggle to find it.

Alex looked up to the shelf, then back at Thomas, before he huffed: “This is just discrimination against short people.”

Thomas laughed, before getting up to grab the popcorn.

They stayed on the couch for the rest of the day, Thomas leaning into Alex’s side, neither of them caring.

For dinner Thomas made Mac-’N-Cheese and they ate while having a passionate discussion about whether the characters in the horror movie they’d watched had made the right decisions.

When Alex said he was going home, Thomas felt kind of sad about it.

“Goodbye, Alex. I- Thank you. For coming. You didn’t have to do that, but it was nice, so thanks,” he said awkwardly.

“Hey, anytime,” Alex smiled, “Besides, it was the least I could after what you did for me and-” he hesitated, “and you’re actually not that bad of a company now I know you better, so-” he shrugged, “did it with pleasure.”

Thomas smiled, it was genuine and crinkled his eyes in the way Martha had adored. He didn’t know Alex melted at the sight too.

“You’re not that bad either, Alex,” he said softly.

“Well, I see you at work,” Alex cleared his throat and stepped away then he looked back and added, “Don’t come in if you’re feeling shitty tomorrow, okay.”

“I won’t,” and Thomas found it wasn’t a lie.

Again, this is not a guide on how to deal with grief, for the love of god don’t take advise from fics. I have tried my best to make it not shit and somewhat accurate, but I can promise nothing.

I debated posting the letter separate of the fic, but it’s important to the fic and the chapter title, so I kept it like this even if it’s a bit clunky. I only decided here to make the flowers important and I thought it very descriptive of their realtions, since both knew it would end sooner than later, no matter how happy they got to be during their time together.

Also, the blessing thing actually happened to me, slightly different, but it happened. And no, I do not feel blessed and yes it was awkward and none of my friends came to my rescue.

[aipilosse]

If you’d like to, “Let’s not and say we did” for Celeborn?

Thanks for the prompt (from this prompt list)!

Celeborn glared down at the dwarf across from him, as he had been doing for the past five minutes. He didn’t want to be the first to break the silence. Even the dwarf’s breathing irritated him in the empty and echoing council chamber.

He was reasonably sure that he could keep up the silent glare for a while yet, fueling it with outrage over having been abandoned by his wife and the rest of the council to come to an agreement with Lord Thrombar over where the improvements would be made during the brief March thaw. The Gwiaith-i-Mírdain faction hadn’t actually exited with triumphant smirks and crowing, but it had certainly felt that way when Galadriel had linked arms with Celebrimbor, already talking about Spring Festival plans, the two of them for once leaving a council meeting not sniping at each other in Quenya over everyone else’s heads. 

Thrombar sighed heavily. “We are both of a particular temperament, and I have no doubt you have the patience to sit there staring daggers through me until some time next week, but let’s not do that and say we both glared at each other for some time until we both simultaneously broke down.”

“Are you asking me to lie, Dwarf?” Celeborn asked.

Thrombar sighed even more heavily. “So, I would like to use this brief thaw to repair the road to Khazad-dûm. Our carts are damaged almost every time they make the journey which wastes everyone’s time and costs us money. This seems like an obvious use of the crew’s time. Do you disagree?”

“The Sindar quarter has been dealing with standing water in the streets. I find it very telling that your first thought is money and not the comfort of the citizens of Ost-in-Edhil,” Celeborn snapped. 

Thrombar’s eyes flashed. “The Sindar use those roads and benefit from our trade with the Khazad-dûm dwarves the same as the rest of us.”

“Speaking of the Naugrim, I think it’s very telling that you want to spend our resources repairing a road that by rights the folk of Khazad-dûm should repair.”

Thrombar did not respond to the slur. “Only a small portion of the road is where they maintain it, the rest is ours as you very well know. It would be more work in the long run to not repair that portion, and they would see it as a gesture of friendship.”

“And should my people continue wading through freezing water every time they want to leave their houses?”

“See, I don’t think you need the whole crew to fix the issue in the Sindar quarter. If you would just ask Lady Coroniel—”

“I’m sure Coroniel would love to help us,” Celeborn replied, his voice laden with sarcasm.

Thrombar threw his hands up. “And now we are back where we started. I have tried logic and compromise, but if you will not engage, we can go back to glaring at each other.” He settled back in his chair and fixed Celeborn with an unwavering stare. 

Love, are you still arguing with Thrombar? Galadriel spoke into his thoughts, equal parts exasperated and loving.

We cannot keep bowing to the Gwaith-i-Mírdain. Their faction is gaining more power by the day. I know you don’t wish to think ill of your kinsman Celebrimbor—

I know your fears and do not think they are baseless. But surely you can admit that they are right in this. Get one of their own to repair the drains in the Sindar quarter and you will have won in the end anyway. Galadriel’s amusement reverberated in his mind when she saw that Thrombar had already offered the same.

Accept his offer. Lady Coroniel will wade into the freezing mud herself to solve the issue.

“Fine!” Celeborn shouted. “If Lady Coroniel will fix the drains, we can send the city builders to repair the road!”

Thrombar almost jumped out of his seat at Celeborn’s outburst. “Agreed! Let’s get this written down and leave this blasted room.”

Celeborn glared as the dwarf gathered parchment and ink. He could feel the city slipping out of his hands by the day.

[world-of-aus]

Behind the Screen - (Part 9)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count:2,825

Warnings: smut 18+ fluff all the fluff.

Author’s Note: this was a little late, but i am still on time in a sense and i am so proud of myself lol. Tag-lists are open for both Behind the Screen and Family Matters if you all are interested in being added just send me an ask or a message! Also again if you’d like to be removed from my tag-lists you can always message me privately. Thank you all for reading and enjoying the content i put out words truly can’t describe how happy your comments, reblogs, and likes make. This goes for just the ones reading as well, thank you! - xoxo

Part 8 / SERIES MASTERLIST

Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, it’s not like he was able to before, but there was something about you now that was just absolutely glowing, injury or not you were ethereal.  

“Alright y/n well it’s not broken but I wouldn’t put too much pressure on it, and I definitely recommend taking a good two weeks off from doing any strenuous activities if you want to be able to join the others on missions sooner rather than later,”

A groan left your lips, “anyway I can get you to push that to a smaller time frame?” You questioned.

A smile tugged at the doctors lips, “sorry, but no can do, unless you want that foot to continue to be a problem I’d advise you stay off of it and keep it elevated at all times,”  

Another groan left your lips, Bucky chuckled from beside you, you turned your head slightly to give him a playful glare, “laugh it up Barnes, we all can’t be super soldiers” you muttered like a petulant child.

“Barnes make sure y/n gets to her room, relaxes, and keeps that leg elevated,” Bucky nodded, “ oh and one more thing, next time you break your nose you might want to come to med bay just in case, I know you all tend to heal a little quicker but it’s advised you get seen by a doctor and not your teammate,” she grinned.

His cheeks flared with heat as his eyes slid to you, you held your hands up in surrender, “I was busy fixing you up, it wasn’t me that ratted you out,”

“alright you two,” she chuckled, “Barnes, can I trust that you’ll take care of y/n, the way that she took care of you last night?”

“no worries Doc, she’ll be in good hands,”

The doctor chuckled helping you from the bed, Bucky sidled up to your side, his arm wrapping your waist supporting your body. You two were almost out of the room when the doctor was calling out again, “oh and Mr. Barnes, please make sure y/n actually gets rest, remember no strenuous activities, she needs to keep that leg elevated,”

Your lips parted open, cheeks going red in embarrassment, Bucky chuckled lowly, “no promises doc, but I'll make sure that leg stays elevated,” he grinned pulling you out of the room and into the hallway.

“James Buchanan Barnes!” you hissed smacking him in the chest.

Bucky chuckled, “what, words going to get out, and be careful doll, I just might pull a you and leave you behind without warning,” he teased.

You glared up at him though a smile pulled at your lips, “you know I'm beginning to think I maybe didn’t mean what I said earlier,”

Bucky stopped abruptly in the hall, eyes looking down at you, “oh really now,” a cheeky grin pulled at his lips, “you should really watch your words sweetheart,”

“why, you gonna make me eat them?” you questioned.

“oh, I'll make you eat something, but it won’t be your words,” he grinned, a loud laughfalling from his lips at the red hue that painted your cheeks.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered into his side as he continued to drag you along.

“my room is that way,” you muttered into his shoulder as he dragged you down your corridor but in the opposite direction of where your room was.

“m’aware sweetheart, but I thought I’d change things up,” he grinned placing a kiss to your hair.

“are you expecting me to limp back to my room?” you questioned with amusement.

Bucky stopped the two of you in front of his door, his body turning to face yours, his hands came up to grasp at your face, “didn’t plan on sending you away,” he murmured thumb running along the peaks of your cheeks, “was kinda hoping you’d stay,”

“you sure about that, you okay if the other’s find out about us?” you questioned teasingly.

He smirked, his head closing in, lips hovering just above yours, “let them find out doll, m’ tired of always having to leave you behind,” he murmured his lips connecting with yours.

A soft sigh left your lips, your fingers curling into the material of Bucky’s gear at his sides, “So I'm assuming you told her?”

You groaned as you pulled your lips away from his to look over your shoulder, a laugh left your lips, your head falling to Bucky’s shoulder, “It just had to be you Steve, didn’t it?”

“at least it’s been me and not one of the other’s,” he shot back, “buck I know I said to help y/n out but I didn’t mean in that way,” he teased.

You groaned a laugh slipping past your lips, “Steve stop!” you whined.

“alright, alright, I'll leave the two of you alone, but be prepared for this to be happening for a good while, especially once Sam finds out,”

“please don’t remind us,” you laughed.

“anyways I'll leave the two of you,” he replied walking past, “oh and one more thing,” he paused the two of you looking over at him, “make sure you keep the noise down,” he winked.

“Steven Grant Rogers!” you gasped.

He threw out a hearty laugh, waving at the two of you as he disappeared into his room, “sure we can’t keep us a secret a little longer?” you questioned looking up at Bucky with amusement in your eyes.

He pressed his head against yours, “not a chance doll, now let’s get you taken care,” oh he murmured pressing his lips to yours, “doctor’s orders”

Bucky’s fingers danced along your curves, his fingers hooking under the hem of your shirt, “lift your arms for me babe,” he murmured.

“You know I don’t think this is what the doctor or Steve meant by helping, I think I can handle a shower, Buck,” you teased, lifting your hands up.

“m’sure you can but I don’t want to risk something happening to you, if you go in there by yourself,” he replied giving you a cheeky grin.

“my hero” you cooed, “though if you plan on actually getting in with me, I think you need start shedding layers,” you murmured fingers crawling up his chest.

“Say no more,” he whispered leaning down to place a kiss to your shoulder.

Moving away from him you moved to the shower turning the knobs, yours fingers reaching out to test the water. Content you reached for the buttons on your pants eager to feel the warmth of the water on your battered skin. Trying not to hurt your foot anymore you wobbled on unsteady legs as you wrangled them off.

You could hear Bucky chuckle behind you, warm and cool fingers found their way to your hips steadying you, his broad chest presses against your back, “shoulda waited for me, I could have helped you,” he murmured pressing a kiss to your skin.

Your head fell onto his shoulder a soft moan falling from your lips, “i can think of other ways you could help me,” his lips paused on your skin, his lips paused on your skin, “how about we get you in that shower first and we’ll see in what ways my hands can be of assistance,” he grinned nipping at your skin.

Needing to feel more of him you wasted no time in ridding yourself of the rest of you clothes. Bucky’s arms stayed wrapped around you as he helped you into the shower a content moan falling from your lips as the warm water cascaded down your body.

Bucky’s lips once more found their way onto your heated skin, “mmm,” you groaned head falling to his shoulder, “what are your hands going to help with first,” you murmured placing an open-mouthed kiss to his chin.

He chuckled against your skin, his hands gripping your hips to turn you in his hold, his hand came up to push the hair back from your face, “how about we get cleaned up and I promise, ill put my hands to good use once you’re all lathered up and washed off,”

Leaning up on your toes as best as you could without hurting your injury further, your lips came to a stop in front of Bucky’s “I’m going to tell Steve you were a sucky nurse,” you murmured.

His hands reached for something behind you, his arms pulling you in closer as he reached for the object. You heard the squirt of a bottle, his hands came up weaving their way into your hair, his fingers working the soap into your scalp “Honey I promise when I'm through taking care of you, you’re going to wish Steve had assigned you anyone else but me,”  

“I don’t know Barnes, you’re a lot of talk,” you murmured your head falling back into the cascading water, the lather of shampoo washing away from your hair.

“ouch, y/n, I'm a man of action you should know this, turn around for me,” he murmured once all the suds had cleared.

Turning in his hold your back pressed to his front, his cock heavy with arousal pressing into your back, you couldn’t help leaning into him further, your body reacting to his.  

“you want my hands or the loofa?”

“your hands please,” you whisper body thrumming in anticipation.

Bucky leans forward once more, hips grinding into your backside as he grabs the soap, he squirts a generous amount into his hands, lathering them up before he's coming back to your body. His hands work over your shoulders first, making their slow descend down the valley of your breasts, cupping them in his hands he lathers them up with soap, his thumbs running over your hardened nipples. A moan tumbles from your lips, as his hands descend further, fingers scraping softly against the expanse of your stomach, “Buck please,” you murmur the need for his hands to go where you need them to growing.  

His head find its way onto your shoulder, the farther his hands go, you wait in anticipation the second his fingers meet the curve of your hips. His hands work over the skin there, sliding towards your heat, a groan slips past your lips as his fingers deflect now making their way down your thighs, “Bucky,” you whine.

A low chuckle falls from his lips as his fingers slide between your thighs, inching up painfully slow, finally you think. Your walls clench in anticipation, “Bucky, no!” you whine as he turns you in his hold.

He’s pushing into you, his hands shutting off the water behind you, his eyes clouded over with lust, “ m’gonna need you to hold on real tight to me doll, don’t want to drop you and injure you any further,” he murmured leaning down to press his lips to yours.

Your hands find their way around his neck, wrapping around him tightly, his hands descend down the curves of your ass, hooking under your thigh as he lifts you up. In that moment you’re grateful you’re standing in a shower and not a bathtub.

Bucky swallows the moan that falls from your lips as he walks the two of you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. He’s leaning down, your body gently falling onto the cold sheets below you, he’s screwed he thinks as his eyes drink in your naked form, he’s screwed because he loves you so much, and it scares him because he’s never felt this strongly for someone before.

He leans back over you, body covering yours as his lips connect to yours once more, a soft sigh falls from your lips, your hands snaking their way around his back to pull him closer. Lips pressing further into his, you deepen the kiss, tongue running over his lower lip.

Tongues dancing slowly with one another, his hands roam down the curve of your body, fingers press into your waist as he pulls his lips away from yours, a gasp falling from his lips as he pulls air back into his lungs. Your hips are rocking against his needing to feel the weight of his cock against your aching core, a shiver rolls through him at the low moan falling from your lips, his dick twitching with want. His head presses to yours eyes connecting, a warm smile pulls at your lips, fingers sliding across his face, finding their way into his hair as you pull him down. “i need you Buck,” you whisper lips brushing against his.

His hand at your waist slips further down hooking around your thigh as he brings it up to rest around his hips. A moan is falling from both your lips as the new position allows for the head of his cock to press into your folds, his hips roll forward the tip brushing against your aching clit.

Hand leaving your thigh it snakes it’s way between your bodies to grab a hold of his cock. Dragging it through your slick folds he presses into your warm heat, a moan is falling from your lips as he bottoms out, your lips connecting with his.

“Fuck sweetheart,” he moans against your lips, “always feel so good around me.”  

He doesn’t move at first enjoying the feeling of you fluttering and clenching around him. He’s lost on you and how you feel around him, everything about you is so damn beautiful. His hands come up to cup your cheek, thumb running over the swell of your lower lip, “so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs.

Your breath hitches in your throat, heart swelling in your chest, “please move, I need you to move, baby,” you reply your own hands running over stubble of his beard.

His hips retreat from yours, cock sliding out from within you till only the tip is left. His lips are pressing to yours, hips surging forward as he builds up a slow rhythm. Your hands leave his face to wrap around his back, fingers digging into the warm skin there pulling him impossibly closer to you. Low grunts are falling from his lips as he fucks up into you, your other leg hooking around his waist to get him deeper.  

His head finds its way to your neck lips searching out that hidden sweet spot that will have you coming undone in his arms, his thrusts have picked up speed, a steady speed which draws the sweetest groans of pleasure falling from your lips. He could listen to those sounds falling from your sinful lips for the rest of his life if you would let him.

His lips draw away from your neck needing to see you fall apart from him as he continues to bring you closer to that sweet release. Your lips are parted open, eyes covered over in lust, but there’s something more there, something that has his heart stalling in his chest, because he swears, you’re looking at him like he just hung the stars for you.

“gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous,” he whispers to himself, “look at you sweetheart,” he grunts hips picking up speed, “you’re an absolute angel,”

A moan is catching in your throat, now you’re the one who’s heart is stilling in their chest, “Bucky I-” but you stop yourself. Bucky understand then, picks up on those words that wanted to fall from your lips, because god did he want to say them too. His hand searches for yours on the bed grasping it in his as he pushes you deeper into the bed, his whole body consuming you.

He’s thrusting hard, deep, burying himself in you, your walls fluttering around him as your orgasm approaches. Your head pushed forward , lips finding his shoulder as you kiss the scarred skin there, an intimate motion that has Bucky’s head reeling.  

“Bucky please,” you whine low in your throat, pressing warm wet kisses into his skin. He picks up speed needing to bring you to that release, a particularly deep thrust has you falling apart around him, your body falling over the edge, your orgasm washing over you. Long low moans are falling from your parted lips, fingers clawing at Bucky’s back as he fucks you through the pleasure. His name falls from your lips in a silent prayer, you’re pleading, you need to feel him, you need him to cum for you.

Bucky pushes your further into the mattress, his jaw clenching as his orgasm washes over him, his stomach muscles tense, as he spills into you, warm spurts filling your core, he never wants this feeling to end. Not wanting to crush you he goes to move away but your legs keep him locked with you, “stay,” you murmur in your post orgasmic haze.

Your arms pull him down, his head falling to your chest, your heart beating away wildly in your chest. Your fingers run through his chocolate locks, lips pressing into his hair.  

He loves you he thinks, he really loves you.

Part 10

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