#yes i payed 5k gold for it

[zeynatura]

Also why yes, that in the previous post's background is a statue of Sahar, True Hero of Baldur's Gate 😎

[strawberryyivy]

➜ GARDENS OF BABYLON

summary: clarisse la rue x daughter of apollo reader. reader hates clarisse until she doesn't hehe. reader is a little bit of a bitch sorry!! just a bit tho! ooc clarisse maybe? and no smut ofc :) just sweet girls in love mwah

warning: reader dates a man but there's not a lot of details about that, bad writing sorry:/

word count: 5k (im so sorry i got carried away)

Help Palestine 🇵🇸!

It could be love, we could be the way forward and I know I'll pay for it

You weren't sure about many things in your life, but one think that you were pretty sure about, was the that you and Clarisse had nothing in common.

She was rude and mean. She didn't hesitate when it came to hurting people. She was cold. She was exactly what you expect an Ares child to be like. So you tried to keep your distance as much as possible.

It was hard, though. The first time you went to camp, you were twelve, extremely scared and insecure, and she did not help your case, at all. You still remembered, how rude she was to you on your first week, how upset she made you and how she made fun of you for crying afterwards. You still remembered watching as the smile appeared on her face the second she saw the tears in your eyes. You could never forget that look. And you could definitely never forgive her, either.

After that, you had very small interactions, you got claimed after two months, which was good enough for you. You made friends, you grew up and gained confidence in yourself and in your abilities. And that whole incident with Clarisse just became a distant memory. But she was still always around. And you were always trying to pretend like she wasn't.

But your whole opinion on her was about to change, and it all started one night, at the bonfire.

At the time you were dating a guy, Jacob, and you liked Jason, you really did, he was nice – most of the time, he was funny– sometimes, he liked to spend time with you, and you never heard anything bad about him. And you were having fun, he was entertaining you, which sounded wrong, and although, you could never admit it out loud, that's all that he was. Entertainment. So the moment he expressed his wish for more, for something a bit more serious, you called it off.

Reality was, you didn't want a relationship, you didn't need one. Your life was crazy as it is, you didn't need one more thing to be preoccupied about, you just wanted to have fun, that's all you needed at the moment. But he did not take that well. That guy you knew disappeared the moment you told him you wanted to stop seeing him.

And yes, maybe it was kind of bad that you decided to end things at the bonfire, with people around – people that could easily listen to your conversation and spread the gossip later. And sure, maybe you were a bit cold towards him, but he did not need to make a scene, a huge scandal. And that was exactly what he did.

You still remember the dirty looks people gave you afterwards, all the whispers, all the rumors surrounding you two. And it made you crazy, people knew nothing about the situation, but they still talked like they did.

And that's when Clarisse came in. You didn't know she was there that night, you didn't know she saw the whole thing.

You were practicing your favorite activity, archery. It made you feel calm, in the moment, and that's exactly what you needed. That was, until you heard a very familiar voice, speaking close to you, way too close.

"Hi pretty"

You could swear your heart stopped for a moment, you turned around fast, the bow and arrow in your hands quickly forgotten.

The moment you met her eyes, your stomach flipped, a weird and unusual feeling making its way to your chest. Her eyes were locked on yours, her body was close enough that you could feel her breath in your face, you could see the gold in her eyes due to the sun light. And it all just added to that uneasy feeling.

And you were still trying to process the fact that she called you pretty.

"Hello." your voice sounded weak, it made you curse yourself.

"Do you have a minute? Promise it'll be quick." Clarisse tilted her head a little, a small smile on her face.

You looked around, trying to understand what was going on. She had no good reason to talk to you, you weren't her friend, or anything, for that matter. Maybe it was one of those times when she just wanted to bully someone and you were the chosen one. That thought made you back away from her.

"No, I don't."

You turned around, putting your bow and arrow on their place and ready to go back to your cabin, far away from her.

"Oh come on, princess, why not?" You could still hear her as you walked away, hoping she would get the hint. "Aren't you a little curious to know what I wanna talk about?"

You felt her hand on your wrist, making you turn around, face to face with her again. "It's about your little boy Jacob, you know? The one who humiliated you in front of everyone?"

She still had that stupid smile on her face, making you roll your eyes. "And what does whatever you want have to do with me? We are not together anymore, and I don't want anything to do with you. Or him!" you were about to leave when you heard her again.

"I want revenge. Are you sure you're not interested?" you turned around slowly, studying her face. "That little shithead hurt one of my sisters, and I haven't put anyone in their place in a while."

That last part made your heart skip a beat, you knew exactly what she meant, you were one of those people once. But different to Jason, you were just a kid, you didn't deserve what she did to you.

"No, I'm not. Have fun terrorizing him though, you always do anyway."

For the third time, you walked away from her, and much for your disappointment, she let you go.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

"Did you do anything stupid lately?"

You lifted your eyes from your food and looked at your friend in front of you, laughing a little at her question. "What?"

"Like, I don't know, did you do something that I need to know about?" the confusion in your eyes made her look behind you, making you turn your head to look as well. Clarisse was staring at you, a weird expression on her face. "She won't stop staring, please tell me you didn't do something against her, that girl could easily kill–"

"Oh gods, I didn't do anything!" You couldn't help but laugh again, turning back to Anya. "She's just probably upset I turned down an offer she made a few days ago."

"What offer? Why don't I ever know about anything?!"

"It's nothing important really, she wants to do something to Jacob, I don't know what, I just know he hurt her sister and I think she wanted my help to 'put him in his place'? Her words not mine."

"Wow, that's weird. And you just simply said no? Just like that?"

"I mean yeah, I don't want him to hate me even more than he already does."

"Makes sense."

You two went back to being silent for a second, before Anya spoke again. "You know, maybe she wanted to get close to you, or something, I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, why would she ask your help on something she could easily do it on her own? I mean, it's a bit weird, right? Maybe she wanted to get to know you."

"I doubt that."

You tried not to think much about it, and pretend that you didn't like the idea of Clarisse wanting to be close to you. But as you closed your eyes that night, ready to go to sleep, the only thing you could think about was pretty brown eyes, with a little bit of gold in them.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

Two days later, as you were walking to practice you saw Jacob, he didn't see you, he was talking to his friend, something you couldn't really hear, but what really caught your attention, was when he lifted up his shirt, his stomach was dark purple, bruises all over it. And you didn't have to think twice to figure out who did that.

And you didn't know why, you just needed to see her, you needed to ask her so many questions, so that's exactly what you did.

You knocked on her cabin door, that heavy and weird feeling on your chest again, waiting for someone to answer. One of her brothers opened the door, looking you up and down. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, is Clarisse here?"

He nodded, but not to say that she was in fact there, he nodded like he knew exactly what you meant.

"Yeah, sure." he left the door open and started to leave the cabin, not before saying with a weird laugh: "Have fun!"

You looked at him confused, having no idea why would he even say that to you, but you decided to not think much about and just go in.

She was sitting on her bed, palm resting on one of her thighs, black nail polish in her other hand. She was painting her nails, and for some reason, that surprise you.

Sure, you've seen her wearing nail polish before, but the look on her face was a rare one, she looked so concentrated, almost peaceful, and you couldn't help but think she looked pretty like that, her curls framing her face.

"Who was it?" she didn't look up from her nails when she said that, probably thinking you were her brother.

"It was me."

You could see the smile on her face before she look up, her eyes shining when she saw you. "Hi pretty."

Ignore the nickname. Ignore the nickname.

"What did you do to him?"

"Sorry?" she got up, walking towards you now, her eyes were dark, the peaceful Clarisse you just saw disappearing.

"I saw his bruises, that was you, wasn't it?"

You didn't know why you were so mad at her, you didn't even like him, you couldn't care less about him if you were being honest, but the need to confront her about it seemed to be more strong than being reasonable.

She tilted her head, a smirk on her face.

"What if it was? Do you have a problem with that?"

"Yes, I do, actually, you shouldn't go around just beating people up."

"Oh really? Why not? He hurt someone I care about, he deserved it."

She didn't sound mad at you, she sounded amused, like she liked the fact that you were talking back.

In reality, she just liked that you were there, in her cabin, so close to her, your eyes locked on hers like you were scared that if you looked anywhere else, she might disappear. But you didn't need to know that.

"Like you care about anyone who isn't yourself, you did that just for fun. Because that's what you do!"

"And why are you so mad about that anyway, hm? You said you didn't wanna have anything to do with it, remember?" she took one more step closer to you, your faces inches apart, you felt her hand on your arm. "Do you still like him or something? Because if I remember correctly, you broke his heart, right? So why do you care so much?"

You didn't know what to say, she was right. And that pissed you off even more.

"I just- I–" You could see her smile growing at your loss of words, her hand on your arm making you even more nervous. "Fuck you, Clarisse."

The feeling in your chest got too strong, you realized how close she was to you, her pretty smile on her face. However her eyes were not on yours anymore, she was looking at your lips, breathing heavy.

Then her eyes met yours again. "Why are you here, y/n?"

"You know why." you stepped back a little, but before you could say anything else you felt her lips on yours.

And you didn't think twice before kissing her back. Her lips were soft, her hands were on your face, and yours made their way to her hips. She smiled during the kiss, making your head spin even more.

"No, wait– that's not what I came for!" you finally came to your senses again, breathing even heavier now. "I don't even like you! I could never like you! You're so... you're awful, you're an awful person!"

Before she could say something, you stormed out of her cabin. And she just stood there, not believing what had just happened.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

A few days since that afternoon had passed and you still couldn't believe that happened. She just kissed you, out of the blue, for no reason at all.

You could still feel her soft lips on yours, her hands on your face, and your heart beating fast against your chest.

But the worst part of it all, is that you liked it, and you couldn't deny it anymore. You couldn't deny your stupid crush on Clarisse. You couldn't deny that's the reason why you got so upset when she mistreated you years ago, that was the reason why you couldn't think straight when it came to her.

Yes she was mean, and a bully – most of the time, she was stubborn and impulsive, but unfortunately for you – and your stupid dumb heart, that didn't make much of a difference. You tried to convince yourself that you hated her for so many years, and yet here you are.

When reality sinked in, you felt panic, because she was the last person you wanted to have feelings for, she was the last person you'd give a chance. So you decided that you were going to repress those feelings, it didn't matter if it hurt you, you would never open your heart to her. You just couldn't.

But apparently the universe had other plans, because while you were at the beach, enjoying the sun, lost in thought, she saw you. Lucky for her, bad luck for you.

You heard her say your name, and before you could run away from her, she sat down beside you, making it impossible for you to look away.

"Where have you been? You just disappeared! Are you avoiding me or something?"

Her voice was soft, you never heard her speaking like this, almost like she was afraid you'd run away if she wasn't careful with her words.

Your stomach felt weird, your heart was beating fast again, and your hands were shaking. All because she noticed. She noticed that you were avoiding her. And for some weird reason, that made you feel special.

"Yeah, well, how did you find me?"

"I threatened one of your friends to tell me where you were." she said that like it was the most obvious think in the world, like you were dumb to even be asking her that question. "I just– I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

You looked up from the sand, surprise evident in your face, did she just apologize to you?

"You're sorry?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I'm really bad at this, I just wanted to say that, I'm sorry if I offended you by kissing you, I should've asked first, I just– I felt– I mean, I thought I felt something there but it was just all in my head and I didn't mean to–

You lost your mind, you were sure of it, because now, you were the one kissing her.

One of your hands went to the back of her neck, making her relax under your touch. Her lips moved with yours in the perfect rhythm, like it was meant to be, like you were made to do this, with her.

Her hands were on your back, bringing you closer and closer to her, as if that was possible, and you only stopped kissing when you felt the need for air. Her forehead touched yours, both of you breathing heavy.

"I thought you– I'm... confused." She leaned away a little, still holding you.

In that moment, you didn't know what to say, cause you were as confused as she was. You didn't know why you kissed her, you promised yourself you would stay away, and yet your lips were on hers the moment she got close to you.

"You said you didn't like me." her voice was still soft, but now, a little more serious, her eyes studying your face. "You said you could never like me, did I understand that wrong or what?"

You shook your head, you felt suffocated now that she was so close, asking you questions, making you rethink your terrible decisions and complicated feelings.

"You didn't understand that wrong, that's– yeah, I said that."

Your hand wasn't on her face anymore, and you were getting up. Why did she have to make you feel like this?

"Hey, you're not running away this time! Talk to me." She got up too, getting close to you again.

Her eyes felt like they were burning holes in your skin, making you avoid them. And before you could speak for yourself, try and explain, your anxiety spoke for you.

"What do you want from me, Clarisse? It was just a kiss, does a kiss have to mean anything? I wanted to kiss you, so I did, big fucking deal!"

When you got the courage to look at her again, you couldn't see the soft Clarisse anymore. She nodded her head, looking away from you, letting out a sarcastic laugh.

"You wanted to kiss me, so you did, hm?"

Her voice was cold and her eyes even colder. You nodded your head, if that would help you stay away from her, then you were going to run with it.

She didn't say anything back, she just turned around and left you alone. Not knowing that if she stayed just one more second, she would see the tears streaming down your face.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

You felt horrible, actually, if there was a stronger word for what you were feeling you'd use it, but no amount of words could really describe how you felt.

The guilt was eating you, and you couldn't stop crying, you didn't even know why you were crying in the first place; maybe it was because you realized that you actually had feelings for Clarisse, maybe it was because you were mean to her just because you were scared, or maybe you were just overwhelmed. Either way, the tears wouldn't stop scrolling.

And you did the only thing you knew would help you, you talked to your friend.

"Wait, walk me through it again... you have feelings for who?"

"Please don't make me repeat it!" your hands went to your face, too embarrassed to even think about it.

Anya let out a laugh before she grabbed your wrists, making you look at her again.

"I'm sorry! I just thought you hated her?"

"I guess the hate was just a cover up, I actually do like her a lot. Unfortunately."

"You don't think she likes you back?"

You thought about it for a moment.

You were sure she did, you were sure she liked you back, and was what made it all so scary to you. The fact that you both liked each other, the fact that she could easily hurt you, just like she did years ago, just with a few words. The fact that you could hurt her, just like you did, earlier that day.

With Jacob, it was easy, he liked you, you didn't like him. The moment you got bored and he wanted more, you ended it, and you felt bad, but you also felt safe. You were safe that way, he couldn't hurt your feelings even he tried. That was easy.

With Clarisse,wouldn't be that way, she would know exactly what to do to make you feel pain. If you let her in, she would know just what buttons to push, and that scared you more than anything.

"I just think... I just think it would hurt too much."

Anya gave you a sympathetic look, a small smile on her face. "But if you really like her, don't you think is worth it? Don't you think she's worth it?"

Once again you went to sleep thinking about her. Your mind asking you again and again, is she worth it?

•┈୨♡୧┈•

You felt low in your life a few times.

First, was when your fish died, you were only six and as weird as it sounds, it was your best friend at the time. Second time, was when your grandmother died, when you were eight, she was basically your second mom, and seeing her sick and unable to do anything about it killed you to the core. And the third time was when you found out you had to live your life behind and go to camp, when you found out that you actually had a dad, an unusual one, but you did, and you had to get used to your new life.

And now, it was definitely one of those low points.

You could feel your heart break the moment you saw them together, Clarisse and some girl that you didn't know the name. They were sitting together on the steps of the Ares cabin, Clarisse was touching the other girl's leg, whispering in her ear and making her laugh. You felt sick.

You stopped walking, unable to breathe or to move, staring at them like your life depended on it.

"Oh gods." You could hear Anya say on your right. "Maybe we should go the other way."

Before they could see you, you started walking again, feeling anger and disgust after seeing that. But then it hit you.

You told her the kiss didn't mean anything. You said you didn't like her. You told her you could never like her. You made her believe you didn't feel anything. You had no right to be angry, you had no right to be upset. You just needed to accept that she was moving on, and maybe you should try doing the same.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

A few days later capture the flag happened, as usual the blue team won, which was good, it made you forget about Clarisse for at least a few hours.

But afterwards, at the bonfire, you saw her again, with that same girl. And she looked so beautiful, it was hard to be mad at her. Her hair was down as usual, and she had a black t-shirt on, and it was so tight that made you forget how to breathe for a second.

"Tough, huh?"

You looked to your left, seeing one of her brothers standing next to you, the same one you saw the day you went to their cabin, he was looking at Clarisse as well, his face expression hard to read.

"What do you mean?"

"Seeing her with someone else."

He answered that like it was obvious, looking over at you.

That made your head spin, did she talk about you to her siblings?

"What?! No! We weren't– we never–"

"No, I get it!" he interrupted you, your rambling annoying him. "I was just betting that you would be the one."

"Wait, what?"

This whole situation was giving you a headache.

"Well, you know, in between you and her, I thought you would win, Clarisse was never really fond of her, you know?"

You blinked at him a few times, letting his words sink in. Gathering up courage to ask what was on your mind.

"You think we could work? I mean, we don't even get along." it was supposed to sound nonchalant, like you didn't mean anything by asking that, but unfortunately, he read right through you.

"Yeah, I think you could work. I wouldn't give up on it so easy if I were you."

Before you could ask him anything else, he started to leave but not before saying: "And don't worry, I won't tell her that we had this conversation."

•┈୨♡୧┈•

You could swear you never felt more nervous in your life than at that moment, you were at the door of the Ares cabin, feeling anxiety wash over you. Trying not to shake too much because of the cake in your hand.

And before you could overthink what you were doing, you knocked on the door, taking a deep breath and smoothing your shirt.

She opened the door, her eyes were as cold as you expected, she was staring at you, and then the little box you were holding, and then at you face again.

"Hi." You tried to sound normal. "Can we talk?"

She tilted her head a little to the side, a smile on her face. "I don't think so."

Why did you think it was gonna be easy?

She went to close the door, but before she could, you held it open, getting closer to her.

"Clarisse, please? I really wanna talk."

"Well, I really don't care."

But she didn't move, she didn't back away from you or tried closing the door again, she just stood there, hand on the door knob.

"I have cake!" she looked a little confused, looking at the small box you were holding again. "Orange cake, it's delicious. It's... for you."

You sounded out of breath, like you just ran a marathon.

She sighed and turned around, leaving the door open for you.

"Everybody, get out!"

Without saying anything, her siblings left, some of them giving you a glare, but most left without even looking at you.

Clarisse looked over at your direction again and gesture for you to get in.

"Nice bow."

When you turned around to look at her, she was leaning on the door, like she was ready to kick you out at any minute.

"Thank you." You said touching the bow in your hair, trying not to smile at the fact she complimented you.

She stared at you for a few seconds and rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here? Because if you're just going to stand there–"

"I came to apologize." You took one step closer to her, feeling a little bit more confident. "The way I treated you at the beach... that was horrible, I'm so sorry. You don't need to forgive me or anything but I just– I just wanted to say that I like you. And I didn't want to admit that, because, it's so scary, and you make me feel like I'm gonna die sometimes because of how fast my heart beats when you're around."

"And I was so ready to just pretend I don't feel this way, but then I saw you with that girl and, I just can't do that. Giving us a chance might hurt me in the future but not having you right now hurts just the same, and I can't take it. And I know I'm a coward and–"

"Is that orange cake you said?"

"I'm sorry?" you looked at her like she just said the most offensive thing known to man. "That's it? That's what you took from all that? I'm opening my heart to you."

She took a few steps closer to you, an infuriating smile on her face. "Yeah, I heard that part, how did you even get this cake?"

"It was one of my sisters birthday yesterday and–, you know what, it doesn't matter, don't you think you have something to say to me?"

You were so annoyed, was she dismissing everything you just said?

"Oh, like what?"

"Like... like, you like me back maybe? Maybe an apology for being so horrible to me years ago? Maybe–"

"Gods, you talk so much."

And then she kissed you. But this time, it was different. She was kissing you like she was trying to tell you everything she couldn't put into words, hoping you'd understand.

Without stopping the kiss, she took the cake out of your hands, putting it on a table behind you. Her own grabbing your waist.

You touched the back of her neck, not wanting to let go of her, trying to make this moment last for was long as you could.

When she leaned away, she had a smile on her face, a genuine one.

"Did you mean everything you just said?"

You nodded, still holding her. "More than anything."

"I'm sorry I was mean to you." You were about to kiss her again but she pulled away. "And I like you too by the way, don't know if you were able to catch that."

You shook your head and laughed a little. "No, I got that part, but thanks."

"And also, I love orange cake."

You gave her a smile before leaning in to kiss her again.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

After that, you would spend most of your free time with Clarisse, you guys would go on long walks at night, she would help you practice whenever she got the chance and you would always end up in her cabin somehow.

"Oh gods! Just stop moving!"

You couldn't stop laughing, you guys were sitting on her bed, her hand on your thigh, while you were holding her tube of black nail polish, painting her nails.

"What? Can't I kiss my girlfriend?"

She wouldn't stop moving, trying to get close to you at all cost, holding your face with her free hand, making you look at her. She had a huge smile on her face, making you smile too.

"Am I your girlfriend?"

"Of course you are."

Her voice was so soft, and her hand on your face felt comforting. Making you want to melt into her.

"Okay then." you gave her a peck on the cheek. "Will you let your girlfriend finish painting your nails?"

She laughed and laid her head on your shoulder. "Yes ma'am."

A few seconds later, she heard your vocie again.

"Clarisse?"

"Yes?"

"I could spend the rest of my life with you like this."

She didn't answer you for a few seconds, watching her nails turn black, your delicate hands doing a way better job than she ever could.

She lifted her head from your shoulder, focusing on your concentrated face. A small smile on her lips.

"Yeah, me too."

Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon. With your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Edge Of Ever After | 4

Part 1 2 3 4 5

Sandor runs his fingers down my spine and sighs, "everything I ever touch goes to shit." He grabs my hip and pulls me close. I turn to him and nestle my face into his chest. He traps me in his arms, "but you... you turn my shit into gold."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, smut (piv, cunnilingus), mentions of pregnancy/fertility issues, sunshine x grump, enemies to lovers (to enemies ? HAHA), slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, horrible communication, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: cross posted on ao3

I wake up with laboured breath, with a severe tightness in my stomach. I grunt and shift, realizing promptly Sandor's arm was squeezing me.

"Sandor," I groggily yelp, yanking his arm off me.

Thankfully, his arm gives and I manage to roll away. I catch my breath and whimper, making a disgruntled face at my husband.

In the name of the seven gods, the man was still asleep, as though he did not make an attempt on my life unwittingly. I huff and push myself up on my elbows, "Sandor."

I nudge him with my knee.

He sighs peacefully in his sleep.

I huff and brush his hair. I caress the side of his face which was free from burn marks and shake my head, "you vicious pup. How am I to sleep now?"

I turn to the window, seeing how the sun was barely shining and decide it was worth it to try and go back to sleep.

Alas, I could not and eventually just got out of bed. I decide to tidy up and change, giving us a headstart for the day.

I struggle to get myself ready, especially in doing the ties of my dress and styling my hair. After deciding I looked decent enough, I pondered what to do with the sopping wet clothes we had from the night before. I gather them from the floor, wrapping them in towels, as they were still dripping wet, and head downstairs.

When I reach the main room where we had eaten dinner, I gawk at how large it looks without it overflowing with people.

"Can I help ya?" a low and slightly annoyed voice asks.

I turn and make a soft sound of surprise at the sight of the hulking man before me.  I smile at him, "good morn to you. Yes. If you could, that would be lovely."

He raises his thin brows as I shuffle with the clothes in my hands.

"If it is possible, I would like to have my clothes washed. They have gotten terribly-"

He grabs the clothes from me.

"-oh... wet from last night..."

He inspects the clothes pulling them apart one by one, the hanging them on his large arm.

"I- UH-" I freeze when he picks out my shift and small clothes. I begin to fidget but he doesn't bat an eye. He does raise his brows when he sees Sandor's clothes.

He holds it up then looks at me, "this yours, lil lady?"

"My husband's."

He measures the shirt against him, "he's almost as big as me."

I blink at his observation.

He huffs and tilts his head, "it's gonna cost ya. Work don't come for free."

I nod quickly, "and I can pay," I pull out some coin, "I would also like some food for us."

He takes the coin from me, "it's not gonna be ready til a lil later."

I nod again, "I understand. I can wait."

He stares at me for a moment. He tilts his head the other side, "what's your name then, lady?"

I tell him my name and then he laughs.

"Clegane? Like the Mountain?"

I am married to his brother, Sandor."

"Mmm," he walks off, "must be nice being Lord Clegane."

I step back as he exits through the front door. And as if on cue, Trysha comes in, "ooh, pleasant morning, dear lady. I see you've met my other son."

Oh. I smile at her.

"Did he give you a hard time? What did you need?"

"Some laundry services and break fast. I've already paid for it."

Trysha smiles, "well, don't you worry, milady. I'll go find Donnie and see to your laundry. Riley will cook you and your lord food first thing."

"Oh, thank you, Trysha," I smile back.

She nods at me, "it's my pleasure, milady."

I step forward and fidget with my fingers, "if I may, how many children do you have?"

She grins, "I have five sons, each as big as the other. The first is Wencel, then Donnie, Riley, Graham, and Ian."

"I see. And I assume their father was quite large as well."

"Aye," she wiggles her brows, "if you know what I mean."

My lips part yet I say nothing.

She giggles and shakes her head, "why, how improper of me to jest with a lady."

I chuckle nervously, feeling my face warm slightly.

"Ah," she sighs, "Riley is the spitting image of his da, from face to the frame. He gets his ruggedness from me though. My Hugh wouldn't hurt a fly... and that would be why he got killed."

I frown at his words, "my deepest sympathies for your loss."

She waves a hand, "it's been ages. It was a hard day but you learn to live with it." With that, she smiles and says she'll tell Riley to start making my food.

I walk towards the open door and hum at the sight of the muddy floor. I debate if I should get my boots dirty, but figure, it'll get dirty anyway once we leave, so might as well. Mud could be washed off.

I pick up my skirt and tread carefully out of the place. I wander towards the stables and remember that Riley mentioned our horses were moved somewhere else.

I spot a man by the beasts. I lock eyes with him and smile, "good morrow! Are you the stable keeper?"

He stares back at me, face contorting slowly. 

As I walk closer, I realize just how large he is, appearing opposite, only because he was dwarfed by the horses around him. I then wonder if he was one of Trysha's other sons.

"Who's askin'?"

I manage to step on a drier patch of dirt and explain to him who I was. I tell him I was only concerned for the well-being of my steeds, since they got terribly wet in the storm last night.

"Ahhhh," he says with some form of realization, "you're the lady Riley spoke about."

I hum, "if the lady was one he saved from a gang of brutish men, then, indeed, tis I."

The pets one of the horses' snouts and tilts his head, wordlessly walking off after.

I furrow my brows and clutch my skirt tightly, "do you expect me to follow?"

The man stops and turns back to me when he realizes I don't.

"You answered none of my questions and did not even say where you are leading me off."

He raises a brow a me, "clearly, I'm leading you to your horses."

"Well, it was not clear to me because you did not say so," I shake my head, "I do not even know your name. Why would I follow you?"

He purses his lips and crosses is arms, "and telling you my name will make a difference?"

"Of course."

He stares at me for a moment then chuckles dryly., "Graham."

"Brilliant," I smile at the confirmation of his identity, "lead the way, then, Graham."

Graham leads me off to a wood shed that had enough vacancy to house my two horses. They recognize me and chuff. I smile and offer each my attention and touch their faces.

"Hello, hello," a voice calls from the side.

A man walks towards Graham. He is red in the face and sweaty as he carries a large log on one shoulder.

"Hello there. Good morn," I offer in between combing my horse's mane with my fingers.

He drops the log on the ground. He huffs and tilts his head when he looks at Graham. Graham shrugs, then they both turn back to me.

"Need some help, lady?"

"Mmm?" I turn back to him, "no, I just wanted to check on my horses."

"Traveling with a bodyguard?"

"I'm travelling with my husband," I reply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I look between the two, and in this moment, realize they looked awfully similar, "you wouldn't happen to be named Wencel, would you?"

The man curls his lips up as the other laughs, "nay, lady! I'm Ian."

Graham slaps the man's arm in laughter.

Ian shoves him away, "I look nothing like that ugly shite."

"Who you calling ugly, orge?" a deep voice speaks above the sound of galloping hooves.

A man leading a donkey with a caravan walks towards us. He does not stop and eyes me as he walks past. He nods his head at me and I offer the same regard. I watch as he leads the horse to what was probably a back entrance to the inn.

"MY ASS IS PRETTIER THAN YOU!" Ian calls out.

"At least my ass is done with my morning chores."

Graham laughs harder.

If it was not painfully obvious before, it was now. These men were brothers, Trysha's sons. Though they were big burly men, the sight of them made me feel warm. They reminded me of my own brothers, how I used to be with them. It make me imagine what it would be like had they not died, and even how they would be once I had a son of my own.

I press my lips into a line and feel myself fel sick. I give my horses on last pet before going back inside the inn.

When I get back inside, I am faced with Riley, who perks up when he sees me.

"Oh, h-hello... I wanted you to know I've started cooking, but I didn't know what you wanted... so I was gonna ask."

"Oh," I bring myself to smile, "I'm alright with anything. I normally eat whatever my servants prepare, which is porridge, or eggs."

Riley hums, "alright. I'll be done soon. Take a seat."

I don't have an opportunity to ask if I could bring the food upstairs, so I merely just sit down and wait.

The moment I do, Graham and Ian walk in. They walk towards me and look at each other before turning back to me, "if our conversation offended you, we apologize," Graham says.

"Aye," Ian nods, "if you want to go back to the horses again-"

I shake my head, "no." I take in a breath, "I left because I was finished. My apologies for leaving without a word."

"Nay, it's alright," Ian waves his hands.

"Aye, aye," Graham nods.

"Out of the way," Riley says, shoving his brothers to the side. As the two shuffle away, Riley places a bunch of plates before me. Porridge, eggs, sausage, bread, jam, and fruit laid on a tray before me.

"Oh my, thank you-- this is a lot."

"Aye, seven fucking hells," Graham mutters, "can you finish all that?"

"I can help!" Ian blurts.

"Fuck off," Riley hisses.

"Actually," I shake my head, "my husband won't be awake until early afternoon, so please," I motion, "help yourselves."

Ian sits down across from me without much thought. He sighs as he eats the fruits, "fuck I haven't eaten yet."

"Lying bastard," Graham grabs the strawberry in his brothers fingers, "you ate my ham."

Just as Riley looks like he's about to tell his brothers off, I cut him off by offering him to eat with us.

Riley looks at me in shock for a moment. The next moment, he walks off and comes back with more food.

The next thing I know, all five brothers and their mother break their fast with me. Whatever unpleasant idea that tried to fester in my head was warded off by their familial bickering. It make my heart feel a little Les lonely to be in this moment with them, even though I was a merely spectator.

At some point, they ask my about myself and I tell them about Lucy, about my pups, about Sandor's strawberry garden.

"Aww, I'm glad to know your husband adores you," Trysha says.

One of the men grumbles.

Ian says through a mouthful, "if you ever comes to it, we can set you free."

I stare at him with confusion, "pardon?"

"Kill'im," Donnie says.

"Donnie!" their mother scolds, "that's not what he meant."

"That's exactly what he meant."

"Ian!" Trysha slaps her youngest on the arm.

"Aye," Wencel agrees.

"Wencel!" she scolds. She sighs where I chuckle. I shake my head, "I am flattered, but you needn't worry. My husband takes care of me."

Trysha nods, "and we can tell. My boys are just untrusting of men because of how I've been treated after their father died."

I offer her a solemn look and take her hand.

She waves me off and rubs my hand, "it's alright, milady."

Just then, I hear my name get called. I turn and see Sandor, frozen at the end of the staircase. I smile and wave at him.

I stand and walk up to him. I haul him to my seat and sit beside him. He looks at the faces around the table.

"Here," I push some porridge towards him, "it's still a bit warm."

"I'll go get you some more food, lady," Riley says, gathering some of the empty plates, standing up, and walking off.

"I'll go help," Wencel stands next, cleaning off what remained on the table.

"I have to finish chopping wood," Ian says.

Graham leaves without a word.

Donnie stares at Sandor. Sandor stares back at him.

Trysha smiles, placing a hand on my husband's shoulder. He turns to her as she says, "my sons and I were keeping your lady company, milord. She is a darling. I'm glad to know how much you care for her."

Sandor turns to me. I smile and shrug.

With that, Trysha stands and nudges Donnie. The man follows and he clears his throat. He nods before walking off with his mother.

Sandor glares at him until he disappears. He turns back to me, "by all the gods old and new. What the fuck was that, woman?"

I wave my arms, "I ate with the inn keeper and her sons."

He groans and leans towards me. He wraps his arms around me and I whimper when he bites my neck.

"I won't share you," he mutters against my skin, rather unprompted.

I am tickled by the feel of his beard and pull away, "Sandor-"

"Don't leave the room before I wake ever again."

"San-"

"I'm not playing," he straightens up, "this isn't a game, girl."

I press my lips into a line.

Riley comes back with some food for Sandor. The two of them stare hotly at the other before Riley walks of. The Hound huffs as he begins to eat everything he gets his paws.

"What are you doing?"

"Putting my armor on, what does it look like I'm doing?"

I walk up next to him as he puts on his top. I knit my brows and place my hands on his arms to stop him, "we cannot leave yet."

"And why the fuck not?" he snaps, "don't tell me you want to hang around those smelly oafs."

I raise my brows at him, "you're one to judge a smelly oaf."

Sandor stills.

I release his arms.

We stare at each other.

I blink as I look up at him.

"Damn."

I bite my lip and break into a giggle.

Sandor sighs and shakes his head.

I yelp when he bends down and grabs me, throwing me over his shoulder. I shriek, "Sandor! My belly! Your armor hurts!"

Sandor dumps me on the bed and shakes his head again, "dirty game for a dirty girl," he removes his armor, "this what you wanted? To rid me of all my clothes? To bathe with me?"

He chucks his armor onto the floor dramatically.

I cannot help my laugh. I get on my knees and crawl towards him, "I wasn't playing a dirty game, dirty boy."

Sandor groans and places his large hand beneath my jaw, the rest of his palm sprawls on my neck.

I giggle and hand my hands on his wrist, "I had our clothes washed. We couldn't possibly leave them."

He rolls his eyes.

I scoff in offence, "do not roll your eyes at me.*"

He tilts my head back; his fingers snake into the roots of my hair, "do not play games with me then."

"I'm not-" I push him off and get on my feet, "-playing games with you!"

I impose upon him. I cross my arms and look down at him from where I stood on the edge of the bed, "why can't you take me seriously?"

Sandor looks up at me. His lips part and his breath hitches.

I await his response but he gives me none. He gawks at me instead. I knit my brows deeper, "well? Suddenly you're at a loss for words."

He gulps. He strokes his beard, "you're right... I should take my clothes off..."

I pull my head back, "wh-" I cut myself off as I watch him undress.

Sandor rids himself of his shirt and drops it on the floor. He eyes me up and down, "now you."

I am at a loss for words. He wraps his arms around my legs and sinks his face into my side. I place my hands on his shoulders and watch him as he inhales deeply. I cannot help but chuckle, "Sandor."

He looks up at me. I raise my brows at him. He rubs his face on my clothes.

"And here you had yourself believing I was the bitch in heat."

Sandor perks at the thought then bursts into a belly laugh, deep and rich and lovely.

I give a gleeful giggle in response. It realize now that this was a rather rare occurrence. I caress the side of his face, the scarred side. His laughter does not cease. He does not flinch.

My breath hitches when he leans back into my stomach. He sighs, "can you blame me? You smell so good."

I bite my lip and comb my fingers though his hair, "you have to help me out of my dress if you want me naked."

Sandor pulls back and gawks, rather taken aback.

I jump down the bed. I look up at him, then turn around. He wastes no time in undoing my dress. He was a bit too hasty about it, which elicits a giggle from me.

I tut, "husband. Do I look like I'm running away anytime soon?"

Sandor pushes my hair aside and licks a stripe on my neck, causing me to whimper. He nips the area then peppers it with kisses, "you make me feel like a starved dog."

I gasp when he pulls my dress off, along with the rest of my clothing. He wraps his arms around me and continues to kiss my shoulder.

He breaks away only to rid himself of his pants. I turn to watch and bite my lip at the sight of his half-hardened member. He cups my cheeks then he kisses me. I wrap my arms around him, moaning when I feel him press against me.

We end up on the bed, with Sandor squishing me beneath him. I mewl and make room for him between my thighs.

Sandor kisses my neck. My breath catches when he bites me harder than normal.

"Puppy," I whine.

The Hound groans and pulls away from my neck to roughly kiss my lips. I yelp when I feel him grind his hips into mine.

"Stop calling me that, girl," he mutters under a hot breath. He pulls away to give me a grumpy look.

I feel my belly flip. I chew my lip, bat my lashes, then kiss his chin, "but you are my puppy."

Sandor nudges my face with his own and nips at my jaw, "you should know that pups don't listen to anything but themselves."

I give and airy chuckle. He slowly moves down on me.

" 'M hungry."

"W-we just ate."

He kisses down my belly, "like the taste of pretty squirrels."

I grip on the sheets when he pushes my thighs up.

My mouth makes noises before my brain can tell it to do otherwise. My belly tightens and my breath catches as he kisses my womanhood. I whimper when he laps my folds through labored breaths. He hooks his arms around my thighs and pulls them apart when I begin to squeeze his face a bit too much.

"Sandor," I whine, looking down at him. I tangle my fingers into his hair and pull at his roots. I let out an erratic sound, "w-w-- mmm-- fuck- wait-"

Sandor does not hear me, or more accurately, ignores me and sucks on my sensitive nub. He goes on by licking firm circles and strokes on my weeping cunny.

We had done this only a few times, and each time, it was a mind breaking. Perhaps a little too much so.

My back arches as I feel myself come close to the edge. I squeal, "Sandor! Wai-" my voice breaks into a moan when he prods his tongue into my entrance to lick up my wetness. The lapping only intensifies, and I tense up even more.

I throw my head back and close my eyes, "S-Sandor, please."

He huffs and hums against my flesh.

With a cry, I come on his tongue and grind my hips against him. I feel him chuckle which just pushes me more over edge. I can feel him drink up all the wetness that comes from my pleasure.

He only stops when my legs begin to twist and shake in overstimulation.

My husband licks and kisses my thighs. The scratch of his beard was somehow comforting against my skin. He emerges between my legs but keeps himself between them as he lies atop me.

I instinctively wrap my arms around him as I catch my breath.

The wetness on his beard keeps the tingle in my belly. He rests his face on my shoulder, "delicious."

I feel myself blush, "Sandor."

"What? You like it when I kiss you there," he says a matter-of-factly, "you finish so quick when I use my tongue."

I scowl, "... that's the point... I shouldn't be doing that."

He lifts his head and raises a brow, "who says?"

"... I saith. You apologize everytime you finish quickly, I-"

"Fucking hell, woman," he sighs and rests his head back down, "that's not the same. I can't peak 10 times. But you can, and I'd love to make you one day."

My heart drops, "t-that's too much."

Sandor kisses my breast, "mmm, I got you to peak 3 times in one night before... what's seven more?"

I gasp at the idea.

He rubs my side and chuckles, "all the gods, old and new, I jest, my lovely wife."

I sigh in relief.

"...although half-hearted. I'd love to make you spill all over my face a thousand times."

"Sandor!" I swat his arm.

He laughs and tightens his arm around me, "you're too innocent to know men kill for this. I'm lucky to have such a dutiful bride."

I brush his hair and shift beneath him into a slightly more comfortable position. He immediately takes this as a sign of discomfort and pushes himself off.

"No!"

"I know," he hushes, "I'm here, love," he rolls over and brings me along with him.

I yelp and adjust once I'm on top him. He chuckles and squeezes me against him before allowing me to laze on top him.

I feel his hardened length on my thigh and gasp at it, "Sandor-"

"Nevermind it. I'll fuck you soon enough."

I chew my lips. This was why I did not want to come so fast. I want him to be pleasured too. I take a breath and decide to straddle his lap. I'm still overstimulated, evident by my shivers. The way Sandor moans and grabs my hips makes me want to power through it though.

He hisses my name out and evens his breathing, "are you trying to test me?"

I mumble weakly, "you can... stay inside..."

He cusses loudly.

"... then I'll move when I'm ready."

He screws his eyes shut and roughly squeezes my thighs, "you want to kill me. You want to fucking kill me, don't you?"

I bite my lip, "n-no, honey... but you know..."

I push him into my pulsing core and make him howl. In slight panic of his loud noise, I cover his mouth. He stares at me, dumb with lust, and pants.

I pull my hands away. I release a breath, "Trysha's sons offered to kill you."

A sliver of sobriety overcomes him.

"If you were cruel... they said they'd help me get free."

The Hound growls and sits up. I whine when I feel him rock his hips slightly, "am I cruel?"

He rubs my sides and kisses me. I make a sound when I taste myself on his lips. He clutches my body tightly. He presses a kiss on my ear, "maybe I should make you come on my cock 4 times."

I moan, "n-no, that's- that's too much."

I whimper when he begins to thrust into me.

"Sandor-"

"We'll see about that."

Sandor pushes me back and lifts one of my legs. He then proceeds to fuck me to prove a point; it brings tears to my eyes, literally. It was a mix of pain and pleasure that grew less and less painful and more and more pleasurable.

When I feel myself get close again, the idea of coming more than this exhausts me. I dig my fingers into his shoulders and beg, "please, please, come inside me. Please finish in me. Please, please-"

"You want my seed so bad, do ya?"

I nod frantically.

"You want me to come, or do you want my come?"

"B-both-- fuck--"

We both peak a few thrusts later. My mind goes numb as heat ripples through me. My shaking body follows after and soon I'm thrashing for respite.

Sandor pushes my thighs up to my sides and rests atop me. He kisses my cheek and licks my sweat.

I call out his name.

He calls out mine.

He kisses my cheek again, "you take me so well."

My eyes water, but out of exhaustion, if anything, "clearly, not well enough, my lord."

Sandor holds his breath.

I feel myself grow a little too hot, "Sandor... I'm too hot. Can you roll off?'

He pushes himself up on his arm and looks down at me, "I didn't mean it like that."

I raise my brows at his response and shake my head, "I'm not upset, darling. I genuinely am," I shimmy away from him, "burning up."

Sandor watches as I pull away.

I whimper as I feel my womanhood throb as some slick trickles out of me. I rest on my side and cross my legs. Sandor looks at me, rolling on his back. He reaches out for my hand and rubs it.

My expression softens, "I'm not upset."

He doesn't respond.

I clutch his hand in both of mine.

"Do you know the rumors of House Inglewood?"

I knit my brows, "no. I do not divulge in gossip, Sandor."

"Didn't think you did, but I know for a fact your blabbermouth wench does."

"Sandor," I say sternly, "stop calling Lucy names."

He tilts his head, "funny. I meant Cressida."

I raise a brow at him, "no, you didn't."

"Mmm," he chuckles, "no, I didn't."

I roll my eyes at him.

He scoots closer and laughs, "well, rumor goes the lord and lady of the house were unhappily arranged and could not conceive an heir... until Lord Inglewood's cousin made a visit."

I make a face, "I don't follow."

"Lord Inglewood has yellow hair, his cousin, red. The boy that was born to Lady Inglewood was a fucking ginger."

I raise my brows. I cannot help but feel sympathy for the lady, knowing how most ladies are treated, "people assume Lady Inglewood had an affair with her husband's cousin because of her son's red hair? They're cousins. They both could have yellow or red haired children."

"His cousin is not his blood relative."

I purse my lips.

"They became cousins when Lord Inglewood's uncle married into a house with a widowed lady."

I make a face and shake my head, "how do you know this? Don't tell me you listened to the maids in the Keep speculate."

"Against my will. They yap about like they're on either sides of a field."

I chuckle the sigh, "I sense you didn't simply want to share this rumor with me."

Sandor brings my hand up to his face, "they think it a wives' tale, but I've heard my fair share of yapping to know it's true. Men can be barren."

I tilt my head at his response.

"What are you going to do if the reason why you can't have a child is me?"

My lips part.

He turns his gaze to my hand. He rubs my knuckles.

My breath catches in my throat. My voice is low, "I... I don't believe it is."

"That's not what I asked, pretty squirrel," he mutters. He turns to me, "would you take another man?"

I am baffled by his question.

"If I was the problem, would you find someone else to father your child?"

I rip my hand out of his and sit up. I wait for him to say something, to retract his accusatory remark, but he doesn't. "You think so little of me," my eyes water, "I thought we were past this?"

Sandor sits up and raises a hand, "recall once when you told me to take another woman. I'm only asking if you would want the same for yourself."

"YOU DID NOT WANT ME!" I blurt and jump off of bed, "I told you to find another because YOU DID NOT want me!"

The Hound looks at me, as though he was wounded. He whispers, "I have always wanted you."

I scoff and begin to dress myself, "I did not know that."

Tears stream down my face as I put on my clothes. I turn from him as he stands and walks up to me. I pull away when he reaches out. He calls out my name cautiously.

"Do not touch me, brute," I hiss as I tighten the ties on my dress with much effort. I feel like I'm suffocating as I secure my clothing.

"You said it yourself," he speaks, dejected, "people remember names, not blood... I will safeguard any child that you b-"

"SILENCE!" I snap and heave. I place my hands on my stomach. I pant through my tears. I feel ill. I feel sorely loathsome. 

He stares at me. He looks scared. I feel like retching. In fact, I feel like my morning meal wishes to find its way out through my throat.

The Hound approaches me when my breathing gets too irregular.

I sharply pull away and grab his clothes, throwing it at him in anger. He catches it. I cry, "does my love and affection ring so untrue in your ears that you insult me in the most egregious of ways?"

He can no longer keep his gaze upon me. He looks away and puts on his trousers.

"Do you even truly care for me?"

His head turns. He walks over to me, but I pull away still. The Hound is hurt. His eyes water, "you're the only thing I care about... you know this. Everything else is fuck all."

"Then why would you wish me away?!" I whine, "why would you want me to give myself up to a man I do not love to sate my want for a child?" I cover my mouth as I feel bile rise up my throat.

He calls my name.

"I know you don't care for my sense of duty, but -" gag "- do not mangle my discernment for the sake of dissuading me."

"That's not what I'm doing," Sandor speaks pleadingly, "I only wanted to-"

I feel too sick to listen to him. In the heat of the moment, I find myself running towards the window and hurling out of it. I vomit so much it comes out of my nose. I stare at the disaster that descended on the ground below. I retch at the sight.

I feel him rush over to me. I feel him rub my back.

"Fucking hells. What-"

"I told you not to touch me!" I hiss under my breath and elbow him weakly.

I wipe my mouth as he reels back. I glare at him even though my tears were burning down my cheeks. He looks frantic.

"If you do not believe in my curse, if you do not believe in my journey, if you do not believe in my love, do not twist it into mine own disbelief," I grunt and walk off.

The Hound watches as I begin to pack our things.

"You're right. We should not waste time on frivolity. The sooner we finish this damned trip, the sooner this torment can end for the both of us." I look over my shoulder, "that is, if you still wish to safeguard a woman who may have to bear someone else's child," I scoff coldly.

He does not respond.

I turn and raise my hands questioningly.

"You-" his voice breaks, "-have me til the end, my lady."

I turn away and continue packing.

[thehooliganhangoutspot]

Hate to admit it but the stories of Bruno being in gambling debt have been whispered about for years, even on here. It's likely true. He is in Vegas to pay it off but that's like an alcoholic working in a bar that has unlimited servings to workers. The temptation is huge. And for the story to get so big, it's a direct threat to Bruno. SOMEONE on the inside is leaking his business...

I hope he comes out on top. People making millions, even lottery winners, often burn through money within 3 years. It's a sad cycle of owe, earn and add to. Yes he makes a lot a year, but if he's ACTIVELY living beyond his means, even while being a big earner, it doesn't matter.

A person earning 25 million and owing 30 mil is worse than someone earning 30k and saving 5k.

I think this is the real reason Jess left. Not because he's broke and the gold digging isn't valid. But she likely tried to help him and realized it was a sinking ship. Bruno already has other...um...addictions. His mugshot verifies that, the amount he was caught with shows he was an experienced user, and I doubt living the lifestyle he does made it any easier. Stress makes it easy to turn to substances to cope as well.

I wish him well.

[venusiangguk]

gold rush | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, smut, college au (kinda), established relationship

>>word count: 5k+

>>warnings: oral (m/f), fingering (f), phone sex, normal sex, explicit sex, slapping tits, slapping, crying, degrading, dirty talk, all the sex stuff, jks a lil mean and condescending but it’s very cool and sexy

>>notes: hello! this is my first post on here :) it’s part of a longer scenario i’m just seeing how it’s received before posting the full length version~~

>>summary: jk comes back from a weekend away and he wants to show you just how much he missed you. 

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

It’s a Saturday night and you’re laying in your boyfriends dorm room bed by yourself. You’re bored and alone because Jeongguk had an away tournament that was far enough to warrant a hotel for the weekend. Typically you would have tagged along like many of the students at your university, but you had had a test on Friday that you couldn’t miss. Which is why you found yourself wrapped in one of his t shirts, under his blanket scrolling absently through your phone not really paying attention to anything much, just going from app to app.

Due to the lack of anything better to do, you boredly slipped your hand under the waist band of your panties. Not particularly horny... just passing the time you would say. You casually ran your fingertips over your smooth lips before yanking your hand out, being struck with an idea. You quickly type a text to Jeongguk.

you :

hi

i’m touching myself rn

Short sweet and to the point. You nibble on your lip as you see the typing bubble pop up not even 5 seconds after it says ‘delivered’.

koo 🥴:

hi

pics ? 🥺

You roll your eyes. Two years of dating and that’s still how he responds.

you :

no way

wyd rn ??

koo 🥴:

:(

why not

i’m at dinner w my team

jimin and tae say hi

-insert pic-

You smile at the pic your boyfriend took of his friends. You were pretty close to all of the team but more so Taehyung and Jimin, seeing as you and Jeongguk would go on double dates with the couple quite often.

you:

tell them i said hi and that they should kiss 😌

Immediately he responds.

koo 🥴:

they said only if u send me pics 😌

You laugh before snapping a selfie to send to him.

you:

you didn’t even ask them but ok 🙄

koo 🥴:

ur in my shirt while jerking off ?

😩 🤌 🏻

pics PLASE

PLEASE**

You giggle and you’re about to respond when you get a facetime call from him.

“You’re so impatient,” You scold. From the looks of it, he’s in a bathroom stall.

“And you’re so mean.” He pouts. “Lemme see ‘em.”

You think about being annoying and making him wait more, but he looks so handsome and hopeful that you just can’t bring yourself to tease much. You grab the bottom of his loose t shirt and pull it up and tuck it under your chin. The cool air of the room makes your nipples harden and you grab one of your tits in your free hand and squeeze and shake it gently. “These?” You ask sweetly.

His eyes are hooded and he subconsciously runs his tongue over his lips before biting the plump bottom one softly. He’s blushing when he says, “Mhmm, they’re so pretty. Will you lick them for me, baby?”

You groan. “You know I hate doing that.”

He swallows, and fusses with his hair for a second before his hand goes out of frame again. “I know it just- makes me so hard, I love watching you do it. You don’t have to though.”

You sigh and grip under your boob, and do your best to get your nipple to your mouth. They aren’t small but at the same time they aren’t the biggest so its kinda tough, but if you really try you can get it done. Once you swirl your tongue around your nipple, you hear a soft moan come from your phone speaker and you feel it go straight to your pussy. You suck on your nipple a little more before pulling off with a loud pop!

“Are you hard?” You ask, a slight shake to your voice as you get more and more turned on. He nods. “Are you touching?” He nods again. “Show me.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He pulls his sweater up and holds it between his teeth so you can see his toned stomach as well as the bulge in his pants. He runs his hand over it, toying with the tip some, making soft muffled noises fall from his lips. His stomach tenses a little bit.

You put your hand down your panties again, and tease a little at your clit. “You look so good, I wish you weren’t so far away...” You whine quietly.

Jeongguk groans and brings his face back into view. “I know, baby. I can’t even stay here with you to help or coach will get suspicious. We are supposed to be team bonding before the final game tomorrow.” He rolls his eyes. “I’ve got to will this boner away and go back out there.” He sounds like it pains him as much as it pains you to finish off alone.

“Take it out really quick, just for a second,” You say quickly before he goes.

He scowls playfully. “I really can’t stay, so just a little.”

You lick your lips and nod quickly, rubbing your fingers on your clit a little faster.

He gets the angle right and unbuttons his pants and pulls his hard cock out just enough for him to stroke up and down. He groans once he gets a hand around himself at the same time that you let out a high pitch moan.

Jeongguks cock is so pretty. It’s fat and plump and pink. Shiny at the tip where he’s already leaking. He always gets so wet for you, just like you get wet for him. His hand wrapped around himself is truly a sight. His long slender fingers moving up and down before the whole hand grips around his girth. He’s thick and long and the thought of him filling you up makes you whine and your pussy pulse.

“Are you touching yourself baby?” He whispers.

You nod. “Yes, yeah... please come home. Right now.”

He hums on a laugh. “Show me how wet that pretty pussy gets for me.”

You swirl your fingers around your wetness before bringing the glistening digits up into view of the camera. He groans and his head falls back before putting the camera back down to his cock to show you how fast he’s stroking.

“You get that wet for me even though I’m miles and miles away? How slutty baby... How do you taste hmm? Sweet like when I last tasted you just a couple of days ago?”

You’re just about to suck your fingers into your mouth for him when you hear a door open through your phone speaker.

“Kook? It’s time to stop jerking off and participate in the bonding activities, Captain .”

You can tell from the deep voice that it’s Taehyung that came to get him. You giggle quietly.

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming give me a minute.” He says through the bathroom stall. He sighs, and gives you a playful eye roll like he’s exasperated.

“Don’t cum while I’m here, and be thankful that it was me that came to get you and not coach. Bye y/n!” He says loudly.

“Bye Tae!” You squeak as you hear the door close.

Jeongguk groans, but smiles lazily at you. “Guess I gotta go.”

You hum. “Guess you do Captain.”

He laughs a little as he does his pants back up, tucking his now mostly soft cock away. “I love you. Cheer me on tomorrow. I’ll see you after, but I probably won’t get back to the dorms till late. Are you gonna be there still or are you going back to yours?”

“I’ll wait for you. Score a goal for me, and text me later. Love you.” You smooch at the screen and Jeongguk does the same before the call ends.

And with that you are once again left alone, but a lot more horny than before the talk. So you do what any sensible person would do.

You pull up the hub.

~~~

Jeongguk walks into his dorm room around 10 pm, and the first thing he sees is you, right where you were when you hung up the night before after your little facetime sesh. The only difference is that you’re wearing a different shirt, still his, and you have ice cream in your hand and your laptop set up on your lap a show playing in the background.

At the sound of the door opening your eyes find his and you quickly set your food down on his night stand, and fling the covers off your lap, paying no mind to the mac book that is now buried somewhere under his comforter, before squealing and flinging yourself into his arms.

He grabs you easily, bags dropping to the floor, hands under your butt to keep you hoisted. You wrap you legs around his tiny waist and smush your lips to his cheek and mumble a distorted, “I missed you.”

“Okay so kiss me about it,” He says back, eyes glinting and lips puckered.

You giggle, placing your hands on his cheeks, angling your head to slot your lips between his. He parts easily for you, and starts to walk you both back to his bed before he drops you where he found you. You bounce lightly and take a second to take him in.

He’s wearing oversized comfy clothes, grey sweats and a big white long sleeve shirt. His long hair is soft and shiny, falling over his pretty face delicately. He must have had a shower at the hotel after the game. He looks soft and oh so sweet. You just want to devour him. From the looks of the semi in his pants, he’s feeling the same way about you.

“Ah, already getting hard for me?” You coo, hand cupping him over his sweats. He pushes against your palm, unashamed. “You just got here baby.”

He shrugs looking down at you. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all weekend. I had to rub one out in the bathroom room last night as soon as we got back to the hotel. Tae and Jimin were right outside.”

You nuzzle into the material of his sweats feeling his cock quickly become fully erect as you mouth at it. His hand comes down to cup your cheek, run through your hair. “I watched porn after we got off the phone.”

“Did you?” He asks, shifting away for a second so he can pull his sweats down, leaving him in his briefs. You see a little wet patch where the tip is. You suck lightly over the material and he moans loud and clear for you. He sounds so much prettier in person, over the phone just doesn’t compare.

“Yeah, came so hard. Was thinking about you and me.”

“Fuck. Did you make a mess all over my sheets?”

You shake your head as you slowly pull the waist band of his briefs down his hard cock. Once it’s free it bounces in front of your face, flushed and begging for your mouth. You stroke lightly while saying, “No, but I did find something that I wanna try.” You flick your tongue under the head and the hand in your hair tightens and pushes slightly. You part your lips and let him in.

“Mmm, you can tell me all about it once I’m done with you. I can’t wait any longer baby. Swallow me,” He moans, both hands going to the back of your head and pulling you farther onto his cock. He jerks when he feels you swallow around the tip. “So fucking good.” He sighs.

You let him have his way, fucking your throat a little, although he’s much gentler than he usually is when he does it, and he does it for a much shorter time. He must be tired from the weekend, or he must have something else in mind for tonight.

“Lay back baby.” He says when he pulls out of your throat, crawling on the mattress. He finds your discarded laptop and places it under the bed out of the way. You both remove the rest of your clothes before you do as he says and he settles down between your legs.

You figure since he got hard literally on arrival, that he wouldn’t waste time with teasing, would get right to the good part. But no. He takes his sweet time kissing, licking and biting at your thighs, squeezing them roughly in his hands. He nuzzles into your skin flicking the lightest lick over you pussy lips before pulling back and blowing a little. You gasp and roll your hips, trying to get him closer to where you wanted, spreading your legs even farther apart, presenting yourself to him. But he’s having none of that.

“Stop fucking squirming,” He groans before you feel his grip tighten on your hips. But still he doesn’t go where you want him, so you fight against his hold.

“Stop teasing then,” you whine with a scowl.

He bites at your inner thigh. “Hush baby.”

You huff and hit your tiny fists on the bed, frustrated and fussy. “Make me.”

Jeongguk stills and you gulp. He glances up from between your thighs, and he quirks an eyebrow at you.

“What was that?” He asks, much too calmly.

“I said make me.” You whisper poutily.

He sighs and sits up. You get to whine for just a second before you’re yelping and squeezing your legs shut. He just smacked your pussy.

“Shut up.” He says. He doesn’t sound angry, very casual in fact. He rubs his hands over your legs, easing them back open. “Y’know y/n, I had a very long weekend. Travelled hours to play 4 games in two days. Travelled hours back.” He’s running his fingertips over your pussy lips, smearing around the slick you know is pouring out of you. You shiver. You love it when he gets like this. You love it every time your guys are together, but when he’s extremely one way or the other, extremely dominant or extremely submissive? It just makes your entire body burn and your pussy ache. “I even scored a goal for you in the final.” He glances at you, finally sneaking his finger between your folds, he grazes your clit and you shiver, legs spreading even more. “All I wanted to do was get home and take care of you... Make my girl feel good...” He’s rubbing circles around the little nub and your hips slowly start to rock into his touch, breathing heavy from the pleasure. His girl. Yes. You’re his girl. You tell him so.

“Really?” He asks. You nod. He hums. “That’s funny because all I see here is a brat .” He spits out, before another smack lands on your sensitive cunt.

You cry out, trying to close your legs again, but he holds them open. He settles between them again and says sternly, “Now be good. I’m going to do it how I want. Do you understand?” You whisper a tiny yes. He sighs like he’s relieved that you’re not going to be difficult and put up much of a fight, so he can finally do what he’s been wanting to for days. He pushes back on your thighs so your cunt it fully exposed to him, and he spits on it before rubbing his fingers around the sticky mess. Every time he rubs over your clit you twitch, but you’re trying to be good.

“So fucking messy baby. So gross.” He says sweetly as presses his tongue flat on your opening before licking all the way to your clit. He moans at the taste of you despite his words just a moment ago and your eyes roll back. He’s in a mean mood now. And you’re gushing for it. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty baby... because your little cunt is so nasty , just leaking all over the place. I’ve barely even touched her, and she’s dripping down to my sheets. How did you manage to keep them clean while I was gone hmm?” He doesn’t let you respond, quickly sucking your clit into his mouth suctioning it just a bit before flicking the tip of his tongue over it quickly.

“Ah, f-fuck-“ You gasp. You raise yourself onto your elbows so you can watch. He hums around your clit before he flicks his eyes to you. You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut before falling to your back again, not able to handle the gaze he gives you.

He pulls off and uses his fingers to open your lips and pull the hood back before making his tongue flat and licking slowly over your exposed clit.

“Oh my god- That’s- that feels so good baby,” You say between breaths. Your legs are starting to get a slight tremble to them but still, you pull them farther back, making yourself as open as you can for his tongue.

He hums and then smiles, biting at your clit gently, making you jolt. “Feels good baby?” He rubs his fingers all over your core again. You nod and he says, “Could have felt good before and not had spanks if you weren’t so fucking bad.” He swats your cunt again lightly, before sighing and kissing your clit sweetly. Your head is spinning from the switches in his mood but you love it. Love that you don’t know what to expect when he slides his fingers into you. He moans and rests his head on your inner thigh, watching as his fingers slip in and out of your heat. He looks like he’s in awe of your cunt, watching as it clenches and sucks his fingers in. He looks so lovely between your legs.

“Always so fucking tight, can’t wait to get my cock in here.” When he says ‘here’ he curls his fingers inside of you and your back arches off of the bed, and you moan his name loudly. “That’s it baby...” He whispers against your core before he starts to thrust his fingers into you, curling on the pull out. He adds his mouth and you start to shake. Your hands find his hair and you pull him closer, feel him lick and suck at your clit like its the best thing he’s ever tasted. He moans while he eats your pussy. And he has the nerve to call you nasty. He’s absolutely filthy.

“I- close-“ You choke out, relishing in the sloppy wet pleasure that his mouth and fingers are giving you.

He says ‘mhmm’ against your clit before pulling away to get out a quick, “Fuck. Yeah you are, cum for me.” and then he’s diving right back in, focusing on where you’re most sensitive, your clit and your g spot.

“There baby, yeah- fuck , don’t stop ,” You whine quietly as your body tenses. Your legs are shaking out of control, before the string in you snaps and you cry out. Your thighs close around his head and you grind your cunt into his face riding out your orgasm before it gets too much and your try to squirm away. But Jeongguk holds you there until you’re almost crying from the overstimulation.

You pull at his hair, begging him to stop, and finally, he does. He pulls away from your messy cunt, and lays himself on top of you before kissing you deep, wasting no time sticking his tongue in your mouth so you can taste yourself on him. You moan and twine your fingers through his long hair, arching your body to get as close to him as you can. You feel him start to rut his cock over your sensitive core, and gasp. He’s so hard, you can feel him throb against you. He pulls away and grips his cock at the base, lining it up with your pussy before sliding it up and down, teasing your clit even more, mixing his precum with his spit and your slick. He focuses his frenulum on your clit, and his hips twitch. His head rolls back, and his mouth opens in a silent moan. He pulls back and when he looks at you again, he looks wild. His eyes are dark with desire and his pupils are blown. His hands grip at your body like he can’t get enough of you. You’ll have pretty little bruise blossoms all over your body in the morning. Finally, the tip of his cock breaches your center.

You’re so hot, and tight, and so fucking wet around him, that Jeongguk can’t keep the moan that falls from his lips locked away as he pushes inside of you. He pushes all the way to the hilt, you can feel him flush against your clit. Your mouth falls open in pleasure, but your eyes never leave him, the first thrust always being your favorite. Finally getting filled up like you wanted. You can feel him in your belly, heat pooling there as he lets you adjust to his size. Sometimes he likes press his hand into your tummy while he fucks you. Says can feel his cock splitting you open. You watch the man above you part his lips and furrow his brows in pleasure while he does his best to not go too fast, tries not to thrust into you wildly like he so wants to.

He’s leaning over you, hands on the side of your head. You run your palms up his sides, whispering, “I’m good, you feel so good. Give it to me please.” You lean up and press a kiss to his collarbone.

He’s quick as he hikes your legs up and hooks them on his shoulders. He rests some of his weight on you, bending you in half as he starts moving his hips. He pulls out to just the tip before slamming back in with one swift motion. Your hands claw at his back, the angle he has you in allowing him to reach even deeper. Gasps are punched out of you as he starts to set his brutal, sharp pace, not forgetting how bad your were earlier. He’s going to make sure you feel every inch of him for days.

“Oh my god, fuck. That’s so fucking good, Jeongguk. Please fuck me,” Your moans are high pitched and close to sobs.

He leans back some and spreads your legs wide, hands on your ankles to keep them open and he looks down slowing his thrust to watch as he slides into your little cunt. Your pussy is swollen and pink around his cock. He can see your arousal shiny on the base of his cock. “Fuuuck,” He moans as he closes his eyes basking in the feel of you clenching tight around him. He’s slowly pulling his cock from you, only for you pussy to pull him right back in. “This pussy was made to take my cock, huh?” He says speeding up. You nod and tell him, “Yes only your cock gets me this wet, this fucking hot.” He pumps his cock into you hard enough for you to get jostled, so your words come out in choppy and incoherent moans.

The way he’s fucking you makes your tits bounce, perky and pretty. He growls and leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth. You arch into his touch, cute little mewls falling from your lips as his tongue flicks over the small bud. You brush his long hair out of his eyes, holding him to your tit as he makes goosebumps rise to your skin.

“That feels so nice baby,” You say. It’s quiet and desperate, you head thrown back, neck extended and bared to him.

His eyes flick up to look at you, still playing with your nipples. He sees you bared in submission and can’t help the hand that rubs up your torso all the way to your neck. Just begging to have a hand around it. He pulls off your your tit, letting one of your legs fall to around his waist and you moan loud and long as the picks up his pace again.

Your favorite position. He knows how to fuck you any and every way, but like this he fucks you just right, making you fall apart in no time at all. The hand around your throat tightens at the sides, making the moans and whines that come out of your mouth high pitched and airy. The lack of blood flow to your brain makes you feel lightheaded and fuzzy, almost euphoric as he fucks you into submission. His free hand smacks your tits lightly, and you clench from the dull pain as they jiggle. Jeongguk swears.

“God your pussy is just milking my cock, not even letting me pull out all the way. Such a greedy , selfish little cunt. Can’t get enough of this cock filling her up.” He grips your hips with both hands and watches your pussy swallow his cock.

You giggle, soft and delirious as you feel the first signs of your orgasm pool in the pit of your belly, right where Jeongguk’s cock is pounding into you.

“You think that’s funny?” He questions. He grips your jaw and makes you look at him. Your cheeks are smushed and your eyes water from the hold he has on you. “You think being a selfish, greedy little slut is funny?” He presses against the side of your face, biting at your cheek like he just needs to sink his teeth into something to let out some of the pent of feelings coursing through his veins.

“I just love it. Love your cock so much,” You whimper.

Jeongguk pulls back so he can look into your eyes again. He looks at you mockingly. “You love it?” His voice is condescending and it makes your pussy drip. “You fucking love it?” He looks crazed as his hips jackhammer into your cunt, the slaps of his skin meeting yours ringing loud and clear throughout the dorm. Bless his poor neighbors.

“Yes, yes I fucking love it,” God you’re going to cum.

He feels how close you are, sees the way your legs are trembling. He’s moaning when he says, “Shit baby, show me how much you love it. Show me, make that little pussy cream all over my fat cock.”

You nod helplessly as your body jerks in his hold. You can feel your pussy contract over his cock as he brings you the precipice of your pleasure. Tears fall from your eyes from how overwhelmingly good it feels.

Jeongguk fucks into you a few more times, the last of your orgasm leaving your body, as you listen to the higher pitched moans falling from his lips at a faster rate than before. He gasps as he pulls out and positions himself over your heaving chest, cock right in your face as he fists it fast.

“Fuck, open you mouth,” He says, voice dripping with pleasure. You do, smiling, tongue out. He groans deep before his hips jerk and he whispers, “I’m gonna cum,” with heavy lust filled eyes. You feel the first shot of cum land on your cheek.

“Mmm yeah, cum all over my face,” You hum, blissed out.

He milks every last drop of his load out, and you suckle on the tip until he’s whining and shivering, pulling back with an overwhelmed, overly sensitive gasp.

He catches his breath for a second before he gets up and makes his way to bathroom. He sees you about to wipe the cum off your face and says, “Wait a sec.”

You sit patiently, criss cross apple sauce, cum on your face, eyes red and wet from the tears you shed, until he comes back with a wet wash cloth in one hand. He makes a stop at his bags on the floor and fishes his phone out.

He sets the wash cloth on the night stand next to your forgotten, melted ice cream and pulls up the camera.

“Smile baby,” He says, softly giggling.

You do, big and radiant, throwing up a little finger heart. You hear the shutter a few times before his phone takes the place of the wash cloth on the night stand. You reach for it to clean yourself, but he pulls away, wanting to do it himself.

You smile as he concentrates and gently cleans up his mess from your face. His tongue peaks out of his lips and you peck him. He stills before scowling with a small smile, and continuing.

“You look so pretty when you have my nut all over you face,” He says absently. His thumb brushes under you eye. “When you cry too.” He cups your jaw and runs his thumb over your cheek bone. “I wasn’t too mean was I? Too rough?” His eyes search yours. You shake your head.

“No I like it when you get like that, ‘s sexy,” You say wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him so that you both are laying down. You wrap around him like a koala. He yawns and settles in your hold, snuggling into the bed.

“Okay good. You can be mean next time,” He sounds sleepy.

You scoff, knowing that you both know that when you take control it’s in a softer way. Degrading and being mean was his thing, what you liked. Jeongguk liked to be praised.

“Yeah okay,” You say sarcastically. “You’d cry in a non sexy way if I was even half as mean to you as you are to me,” You scratch at his scalp and he purrs.

“I’m sensitive,” He whines. Another yawn. “And sleepy. Shhhh.”

“Jeongguk wait,” You say.

“Hmm?” He says already close to knocking out.

“I wanna eat your ass next time.”

“Mhmm, okay. Now sleep please. Turn off the lamp.” He turns over, wanting to be the little spoon.

You know he didn’t actually listen to what you said, but that would not stop you from holding the ‘yes’ he gave you over his head in the morning when he’s more coherent. You flick off the lamp, and throw an arm over his waist. He snuggles back into you, fitting his body against yours. You kiss his shoulder and say, “Okay, remember that you said yes in the morning.”

All you get in response is a soft snore.

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

and there it is! let me know if u want me to finish and post the whole thing! comments and feedback are appreciated!

part 2 here!

part 3 here!

[thedamageofherdays]

This week's (16-08-2021 - 22-08-2021) reading log is here. This week's reading log is super duper long and filled with lots of good things (my apologies for the long post, I really could not find a good spot to do a read more). I discovered some new favourites and re-read some old favourites and while I had an intense week personally at least the fics I read were absolutely phenomenal. I do recommend checking out the warnings as some fics are a bit heavier/angstier and you might wanna be prepared. Most of these fics are Stucky but there are a couple of other ships in between.

If you are looking for more fun and/or good things make sure to check out the @marveldisabilitycelebration as well to see all the awesome art, fics, meta, etcetera people created! And while I am mentioning events I am a mod for let me also just quickly mention that sign-ups for the @stuckygiftexchange are still open until the end of the month <3

Favourites are marked with a 🌻 Fics that are only available to AO3 users are marked with a 🔒 and Tumblr fics are marked with a 🍀

🌻 The Bends by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Danbeau, side Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Memory is not a house you can just walk back into after finding the key you thought you’d lost. It’s a thing you wade into and out of, rewriting it as it rewrites you.

It’s not without its rewards, either - recovering a memory about Maria and Monica, about her life, feels better than socking a thousand bad guys in the face, better than all the photon blasts in the world.

Then again, realising there’s still memories she can’t access, even after all this time, feels like drowning in space.

Not the one out there - the one inside her.

🌻 Sweet & Salty by musette22 @musette22 [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Idiots in love. That's it. That's the fic.

When life gives you lemons by moonythejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 34k words, Explicit] (11/15 chapters)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

🍀 SamRhodey Tumblr Fic by ipoiledi [SamRhodey, ? words, Teen?]

“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”

Shorteralls by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 6k words, Explicit]

The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. It was immediately followed by a bout of mental scolding. The second time was just about the same. The third time, it was actually appropriate for Bucky to start a conversation with him, at which point he was determined to be the gentleman.

No such luck. Steve Rogers is, always has been and always will be, a relentless flirt. These days, Bucky's Neanderthal-ist feelings about Steve are consensual and highly appreciated. More so now that they're having a baby.

what the fuck are perfect places anyway by tigerlilycorinne [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Steve clears his throat and stands. “Well, I should head in. I might want to begin packing.”

Bucky stills. “You won’t,” he says, trying to sound commanding. It only comes out uncertain. “Don’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and Bucky knows they’ll be discussing this again soon.

“Then stay. Play… play cards with me or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows jump up, his mouth tugging up in another of his bemused smiles that do things to Bucky’s insides, but he drops his hand from the doorway and steps back into Bucky’s room. Somehow, Bucky feels as if he’s won—not the war, just the battle.

Steve won’t stay forever. But he’ll stay for cards.

Steve and Bucky, on the run after Civil War (with a few alterations to canon), are laying low in Wakanda. But they can’t stay there forever.

🌻 honestly thought i’d be dead by now, but what you can trust is that i need your touch by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 105k words, Explicit]

Bucky is 37 years old; he’s unmarried, hasn’t had a Sub of his own, is definitely not ripped, comfortable at his job as an Advanced Practice RN at Brooklyn General ER, and just got his Five Years coin from AA.

Steve is 26 years old; he’s unmarried, his last and only Dom has Alzheimer's, he's worryingly muscular, uncomfortable in his job as the government’s poster Alpha for masculinity and strength, and worries more than he should about his BMI.

Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky meet initially in a not-cute moment. Bucky’s tired as shit thanks to the sudden alien invasion that shook New York and Steve is tired as shit because he hasn’t slept more than 20 minutes at a time in – well, since 1936, probably. Bucky’s Alpha instincts get irritated at the sudden presence of another "Alpha" into his territory and Steve’s suppressed submissive tendencies latch onto this grumpy bachelor Alpha and he only suppresses it further.

Bucky’s grumpiness and Steve’s duckling impressionism aside, both of them are a mess. But since both of them are a mess? Their messes seem to fit pretty well together.

Deep Sea Diving by Aida Ronan [Stucky, 5k words, Explicit]

Steve's wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

honey, make this easy by steebadore [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

Bucky likes the way he looks. His silk button up with the tiny gold polka dots feels soft on his skin and is tailored perfectly; no pulling at his chest or belly. His hair falls in shiny dark waves and his skin is smooth and dewy. He looks expensive. He looks taken care of. He looks like Steve’s.

🌻 let's take it back to the start by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

How it all began.

This sleepwalking through my life. by barthelme [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

The internet is an interesting place and when Bucky came home (or, when he came to live with Steve), Steve did a lot of research. Apparently, it’s not safe to wake a sleepwalker. He assumes that waking a sleepwalker with traumatic dreams and PTSD is beyond just being frowned upon.

And he tells himself--has told himself--that this is safer for Bucky. That if he were to stop him and wake him up, that Bucky would be mortified to be slurping on his best friend’s cock. That all of the improvements he’s made would be lost, would be repressed, would be just--

They’d be back at square one.

So he lets Bucky do it.

🌻 the way i've been craving by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

"Lunch break at 12:30. My office. Hope you’re hungry…"

It’s the ellipsis that sends Bucky’s insides swimming warmly, his heart beating twice as fast against his ribs where he sits in class. Senator Rogers is concise, direct, to the point. Without an ellipsis this is lunch, this is a meeting. With it though?

This is a booty call.

nasty but classy by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

“No, you don’t have to know the purpose, that doesn’t matter. Nat showed me this challenge where couples drink a lot of wine and get drunk together but they can’t touch each other. And whoever touches the other first has to...has to give the other head.”

🌻 Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same by giselleslash [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

Greetings to the New Brunette by victoria_p (musesfool) [Stucky, 10k words, General]

"You said he should have a hobby. That it would help."

"I meant, like, knitting or coin collecting. Motocross, if he was feeling antsy. A baby's not a hobby. It's lifetime commitment."

🌻 Rogers & Barnes: Partners by triedunture [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky have to pose as a couple for a mission. Nat insists it really is the only option. She's checked.

The complication: unbeknownst to even Natasha, Steve and Bucky's friendship has been rocky ever since Bucky confessed his tender feelings and Steve left him out in the cold. Can asexual, completely-in-love-with-his-angry-best-friend Steve complete the mission and win Bucky's heart?

(The answer is yes. Yay!)

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by biblionerd07 [Stucky, 4k words, General]

Bucky's therapist is worried he's using Steve as a crutch and wants him to try going on outings without Steve. It wouldn't be terrible, honestly, if Bucky could just manage to open his mouth and say something to Steve.

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) [Stucky, 8k words, Mature]

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

Start from the Beginning by Mumble_Bee [Stucky, 13k words, Explicit]

What about a sex pollen fic where the pollen-ed one doesn’t remember getting hit in the face with a sex flower, and wakes up midway through the depollenating?

Or: the one where Steve wakes up on his back with a stranger buried balls-deep in his ass.

Match by emphasisonem [Stucky, 4k words, Mature]

The situation’s actually kind of funny from the right perspective, Bucky thinks as he reads the message for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s finally matched with a hot, funny guy. Tall and broad and clean cut. An absolutely breathtaking smile. Bucky’s walking wet dream. And he’s good. They haven’t messaged on the app, but Bucky already knows him.

He knows him because Steve Rogers is an art history professor at his university. His art history professor.

Best friends and married since childhood by StuckySituation [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Inspired by @/peterssquill's post in tumblr: "bucky and steve got married on the playground when they were like eight and though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone, even each other, they still consider it official"

~♥~ ♥~ ♥~

“Natasha, stop trying to set me up with every woman you meet, I’m-”

“Too shy? Too scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Too busy? You’re mostly retired these days, not a good excuse anymore.” Natasha smirks and then drawls: “Or just too gay?”

Steve flushes at that, even if isn’t true -- he’s bisexual, not gay. “Let it go, Nat, I’m not looking for anything. I’m already married, for fuck’s sake.”

Clearly not what she expected. “What.”

Steve grimaces. He didn’t mean to tell anyone that, ever.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it right now!” he says and jumps out of the plane.

Nobody Should Be Alone on a Holiday by emphasisonem [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

“So, um-” Bucky begins speaking again, pulling Steve from his less-than-work-appropriate thoughts. The brunet has shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, and he’s shifting from one foot to the other as he smiles shyly. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky swallows deeply as one of his hands comes up to pull at the collar of his button-up, and Steve can’t help following the motion of his Adam’s apple.

“I was, uh-” Bucky continues- “That is, I heard you don’t have Thanksgiving plans?”

In which Bucky finds out that Steve's going to be alone on Thanksgiving and invites his coworker to spend the holiday with him.

🌻 It's Been A Long Season Through by thiccbuckybarnes @thiccbuckybarnesfic [Stucky, 49k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes is in desperate need of a change in scenery, which is why he makes the foolhardy decision to quit his job, leave his asshole of a fiance, pack up his life, and move to his grandfather’s old farm all within a single day.

He expects confusion, hardship, and maybe even failure. But love? He wasn’t expecting that.

--

Or, a Stucky Stardew Valley AU that nobody but me wanted and that’s ok.

oh, peach pit, where'd the hours go? by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 10k words, Explicit]

Can't see the forest for the trees.

--

Or, Steve learns that just because he and Bucky got their happily ever after, it doesn’t mean the past won’t come back to bite them.

I'll find my way by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 725 words, Teen]

Steve had watched Bucky fall, and nothing had been the same since.

AU-gust day 19: Daemons

special delivery by glim @glim [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time.

At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

🌻 Rock On! by millesable @marvelousescapism [Clintasha, 700 words, General]

“Hey, Romanoff!”

He lifted his hand, index finger and pinky finger raised, thumb out, all other fingers tucked. Their secret sign; their confession for the world to see, safe in the knowledge that the world wasn’t listening.

“Rock on!”

🌻 You Like the Way I Look by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

Bucky sidles up to him, hand boldly coming to rest on his chest. “What about you, big guy? Care for a dance?” Steve watches Bucky’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction, somehow already knowing he’s got Steve on the hook.

A decade out of the ice, Steve Rogers returns to New York. Reeling from a battle against the Chitauri, a night with the troublesome Bucky Barnes might be just what he needs.

Join the Rebellion by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 765 words, Teen]

Bucky knew he shouldn't be out after curfew, but he couldn't resist the urge. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew it was where he wanted to be.

AU-gust day 20: Dystopia

🔒 Five Days in December by mywingsareonwheels @mywingsareonwheels [Evanstan, 4k words, Teen]

“Shit shit shit shit...” muttered Chris to himself, glad that the sound of piped Christmas carols was drowning out his swearing amid the picture books. Most of the store was heaving even though it was Sunday, he’d been recognised at least three times, finding presents for all of his nieces and nephews was proving far more of a headache than expected, and he’d just sent a pile of copies of "Strictly No Elephants" tumbling off the bookshelf.

He scrambled about trying to pick them all up, and then dropped them again as someone bumped right into his backside. He lost his balance, caught himself against a bookcase, and a landslide of "Carter Is a Painter’s Cat" joined "Strictly No Elephants" on the floor. He yelped.

“Ah fuck, I’m so sorry… Chris!”

* * * * * * * * * *

London, December 2021. Amid cats, books, and the cold English drizzle, Chris finds everything he was hoping for and thought he would never have.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Reaching for Fire by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit]

Bucky has always felt a fire in his heart (and other body parts) when it came to his boss, Steve Rogers, but he's made sure to never feed those flames. When he finds out about Steve's second job, though, he's tempted to let that fire out.

i've been dreaming of a face like yours by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

Bucky is about to busy himself with making a small dinner for himself when he stops in his tracks at the figure drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smirking at him.

It’s Steve.

“Surprise, sweet boy,” he says before setting his cup down.

--

Or, PWP reunion sex

🌻 Somewhere, Under Your Skin by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 16k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes treats himself to a one-night stand after having a very bad no good day.

The sex is good--great, even. Might be the best sex of his life.

But Bucky wouldn’t have slept with the guy if he had known that he was going to continuously run into him every day for the next fucking month.

--

Or, a Big Grump Bucky has a hot one night stand with a college kid who is popping up everywhere in his everyday life and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Written for HYBB Bingo Square: Grumpy Bucky)

i've played heartstrings before but not in your key by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 11k words, Explicit]

He glances down, seeing a folded couple of papers, before peering up at Bucky. The older man is biting his bottom lip, making it pretty and red. Steve wants to run his tongue across where his teeth are digging into his flesh.

"What's this?" Steve asks, setting his phone down, emails forgotten. Bucky shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno. You tell me, genius," he says, sounding bratty enough that it makes Steve's dick twitch in his pants. Jesus, there has to be something wrong with him.

Steve glances once more at Bucky, who now has his arms crossed against his chest and is pointedly not looking at Steve, before picking up the stack of folded papers. He opens them, seeing a collection of maybe five or six sheets of paper. His eyes immediately land on the list of familiar words with negative next to each one. -- Or, Steve Rogers is a jealous, possessive little shit that wants nothing more than to mark up his boyfriend and stake his claim. And Bucky knows it. (And he likes it.)

🌻 I'm Home (With You) by BonkyBornes @padfoot-and-the-marauders [Stucky, 2k words, General]

In any other circumstance, the apartment would've been perfect. But it was today, and the fact that he was here meant he wasn’t out searching. He knew they hadn’t had any leads for weeks and he knew Natasha was right; all three of them were exhausted and a break would do them good. It just felt wrong to Steve that he was comfortable while Bucky was still out there—somewhere. Probably cold. Probably hungry.

The knock came again. Sighing, Steve unwrapped his hand from the dog tags and remembered how to move. Cold wind and snow greeted him when he opened the door. The solitary figure was walking down the steps, collar popped against the chill.

“Did you need something?” he called.

The person stopped. They were still. And then they turned. *

Or, the Christmas Steve deserved after Winter Soldier.

The portrait by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 915 words, General]

Steve Rogers has a Gift. He can help people find their soulmates, all he needs is some art supplies, a quiet place, and eye contact.

AU-gust day 21: soulmates

Maybe A Muse by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 2k words, Mature]

When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude.

[harrysgloves]

The Devil You Know

Harry Styles x Reader

Story Summary: CEO!Harry punishes reader in his office after catching her flirting with his coworker.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Language // This is just straight up p*rn // Daddy kink // Spanking (belt) // Oral Sex (male receiving) // Vaginal Sex // Anal Sex // Degrading // The slightest bit of choking // Probably a whole lot more that I’m missing // Not edited... sorry

Authors Note: Another work in progress finally DONE! YAY! Hope you guys like it! Feedback is always loved and appreciated so much! Thank you guys so much for reading. xx

>>><<<

Your high heels clicked against the cold marble tile of the lobby floor for the second time that day. Your billowing black winter coat hit your knees with every step you took towards the elevator.

You could have seen him earlier but his secretary swore he was busy. Like he could ever be too busy for you. You scoffed, a roll of your pretty eyes before telling this no-good conniving bitch what was up.

"Tell my daddy that his girl was here," You said, tongue wetting your lips as you leaned over her desk. Your perfectly manicured hands landing loudly over the papers she should have been working on instead of hitting on your man. "And just so we're very clear on something, sweetheart. He's not my father."

You turned on the spot, hips swaying just a bit extra as you marched yourself back down to the elevator. Grumbling under your breath the whole way. 

Who did she think she was? 

Harry was yours. Your daddy, your sweetheart, your boyfriend. You two had been together for years. Your name was tattooed in red ink on his wrist for fuck sakes but that sense of jealousy burned deep into the pit of your stomach. 

The vibration from your phone was the only thing that pulled you out of your thoughts to go up there and teach that girl a lesson on who ran the show around here. His picture flashed across your screen. You scoffed, ignoring the call, and shoving the phone back into your expense handbag. Yes, it was against his stupid rules to ignore his phone calls but you were pissed. He could go screw Karen, or Tina, or whatever her name was for all you cared.

"Bad day?" The sound of another voice in the elevator made you jump. You didn't even notice someone else in here when you got on. How long had he been watching you throw a fit?

"You could say that." You sighed, your back leaning against the cool metal of the elevator as it reached the bottom floor. Door opening to reveal the perfectly decorated lobby floor.

"Pretty girls like you shouldn't have bad days." He flashed a smile towards you when you chuckled, shaking your head at him. He was cute, you'd give him that, but he was no Harry.

"I'll keep that in mind." You said as you started to walk out in front of him. Until your heel caught on the ledge of where the elevator met the floor. Your hands desperately trying to catch onto something before you hit your ass on the ground. You weren't dressed to be falling. A small silk camisole dress paired with no underwear didn't make for a good look if you landed with your legs wide open right now. 

Plus, that pretty pink plug Harry had fucked into your ass that morning before leaving you wanting and needy didn't exactly seem like the best thing to be landing on.

The hands around your waist was the only thing that saved you from mortifying public embarrassment. Your arms against his toned chest as he held you inches from the ground.

"Thanks." You breathed out, a cheeky smile on his face when he lifted you back to your feet.

"Well," he said, his arms still on the small of your waist. "I'm part-time broker, full-time knight in shining armor."

You laughed that big deep luscious laugh that made Harry fall in love with you. Your hand ran over his chest to lay back down the collar of his suit that you had grabbed. You backed away without a second thought, thanking him yet again before leaving the building. 

Not once seeing Harry's fuming face staring you down from the stairwell.

>>>

"Kristen?" Harry asked as he exited his office. His eyebrows scrunched together when he opened his door to see the new girl sitting there with no you in sight. He could have sworn he heard your voice.

"It's Catherine." She corrected what he assumed to be a flirty look crossed her face as he stood in front of her desk.

"Right. Anyway, was a girl jus' out 'ere looking fo' me?" He asked, describing you down to what you were wearing for the day. The mental picture of you sauntering around the apartment in that fucking dress when he didn't have the time to do what he really wanted to do to you that morning played in his mind.

"Uh, well, someone was but she ran off pretty quickly." She lied with a shrug of her shoulders. Harry's eyes narrowed at her when her cheeks flamed red. 

Why did he always end up with the crazy assistants?

"Y'sure 'bout that?" He asked again, his hardening stare made her splutter and crack as he rounded her desk to stand directly in front of her.

"You were busy, Mr. Styles, I sent her away." She mumbled, her eyes flashing away from him when he cursed under his breath.

He already knew what you'd be thinking. His hands fished in his suit pocket for his phone to press your icon. One ring, two rings, voice-mail. He took a deep breath, reminding himself of how insecure you could get sometimes.

Not like you ever needed to be insecure. He thought you were a total knockout. Plus, he was absolutely head over heels in love with you.

"Y'can pack up yeh things." He said as he slid his phone back into his pocket. Her eyes widened at his words, fake apologies started, but he didn't care. He only wanted to make sure you were okay. He needed to reassure you that you had no reason to feel insecure or jealous.

You were the only girl for him.

His fast steps down the stairs got him to the lobby in no time. Whatever thankfulness he had to catch you before you left was gone the second he saw that bastard touch you. 

He swore his eyes could have shot flames through that curly headed asshole. His chest pounded with a rage he didn't know he could feel when you laughed. God, that fucking laugh. His tongue wet his lips before his teeth ground together. 

You touched him. Your hands ran down his chest, smoothing out his suit, like you'd done for him so many times. Your fingers lingered a second too long. The guys hands tightened into the fleshy curves of your hips a little too much, pulling you in closer to him before you eventually walked off.

Your bouncing ass caught the attention of the guy who had touched you. Shameless staring at his fucking girl while you walked out of the building. He had to repeatedly remind himself that he couldn't beat the shit out of his own employees. 

His fist unclenched when you were long gone. He brought his phone out once again to send you a text.

My office. 7pm.

>>>

You stormed through the lobby, up the elevator, not paying any mind to the people around you. Ready to burst into an angry monsoon of jealousy, when the sight of his empty receptionist desk stopped you in your spot. Her things, gone. A baron desk with no sign of a girl simply gone for the evening greeted you.

He'd fired her.

Suddenly, the anger you'd had bubbling in your stomach faded. Replaced with that sinking feeling of guilt. He always seemed to know what was bothering you, even before you talked to him about it. Which was just another one of the many reasons you loved him so much.

You sighed, your shoulders slumped, as your hand laid on the doorknob, knowing he was going to be upset with you. It took everything in you to swing open the door to his office exactly at 7 on the dot. Not a minute early but not daring to be late after your little show of ignoring him earlier. 

His stiff demeanor screamed you were in trouble as you shut the door behind you. You swallowed thickly, heels clicking hesitantly against his floor as you made your way to his desk. Your fingers skimming the dark oak wood as you moved around to stand in front of him. Your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you glanced down to see he hadn't moved a muscle.

No words had been spoken through the tense air. No sound dared to come from you. You knew better, knew how upset he got when you ignored him. So you stood, perfectly still in front of where he sat, your sight hyper focused on the scratch marks on his desk instead of his intense eyes.

You'd have to be easier on this desk in the future but you had a feeling today wasn't going to be the day.

"Got somethin' to say fo' yehself?" His voice was hard, leaving no room for your shit tonight. You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat as your eyes finally met his. They were colder than you'd ever seen before. 

Usually, when you acted out, he found a bit of humor in it. Teasing you about being nothing but a brat but always letting you know he wasn't going to put up with it. He always went easy on you and honestly, you were a good girl. You almost never broke the rules and when you did, it was something trivial.

You were never one to get in trouble on purpose, at least not with him.

"I'm sorry I ignored your call." You tried to say in the least shaky voice you could manage.

He hummed, acknowledging your words but not accepting your apology. Those dagger like green eyes burned through your body, directly into your soul as his thumb twisted his gold ring on his pointer finger. 

"Anythin' else y'need to tell me?" He asked as he raised from his chair. His large chest mere centimeters away from your face as you stood your ground, literally. 

"No?" Your eyebrows scrunched as you peered up to him. Utterly confused on why he was so pissed at you. 

The sharp stone like features of his face didn't help settle the racing thoughts in your mind. That cold chill that ran down your spine as his lips pressed into a hard line. The back of his hand as it skimmed across the highs of your cheek bone was the only feeling of warmth in the otherwise frigid room.

"Know why I got y'this?" His finger ran across the pink leather of your choker collar, across the gold "H" that was embedded in the middle.

Your big doe-eyes flashed up to him. You didn't sway an inch as his fingers laced through the ring that dangled at the bottom of your choker. His grip was firm around the cool metal. His hold kept in place as he stared down at you.

"Because I'm yours." Your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked at him, not having a clue as to why he needed to remind you. 

You gasped as he tugged you forward by your lead. Your feet barely stayed in their spot on the ground as your hands grasped around his arms for balance.

"And do you think I like what's mine flirting in the elevator with my employees?" His words shocked you, stuttering, spits of partial words fell from your mouth as you gaped up at him. "Think I didn't see?"

"Harry, I wasn't flirting with him." You tried to explain away the situation. It was simple, a misunderstanding. "He helped me when I-"

"Did I say y'could use my name?" He practically growled through clenched teeth. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. Boy, were you in trouble.

"No, daddy." Your voice was soft, eyes all dewy as you stared up at him. A show, really, you loved when he got like this. That familiar ache already growing in your core as he dropped the lead on your collar. You quickly stood back up in your place, hands by your side as he stalked around you.

A hunter watching his prey.

"What's y'word?" He asked as he circled back in front of you. His suit jacket was abandoned over the back of the chair. Ringed finger hands loosening his tie around his neck.

"Peony." Your tongue wet your lips as he rolled up his sleeves in front of you. The crisp white linen of his shirt sleeves being rolled up was only a slight distraction from the nod of his head.

"And your hard no's?" 

He wasn't fucking around. You considered it for a second, all the things you two had previously taken off the table. 

"Still the same." You told him, knowing that this meant he was really going to push you tonight. 

He studied you for a second longer. His head dipping down to catch your line of vision, eyebrows raised as if he was mentally asking you the same question again.

"Good." He said when you gave a nod of your head. "Strip."

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself. Your hands shook by your side as you clenched and unclenched your fist, once, twice, three times. Just enough to get you in your head space.

The skin on your arms raised in goosebumps as the warm fur lined jacket slid off your shoulders and onto the floor. A pile of useless fabric pulled into a puddle at your feet. Your slip of a dress followed directly after it. 

A scoff of a laugh came from him, a shake of his head as he turned away from you. Long, silent, steps over to a much-needed drink from the bar cart in his office. Your eyes lowered to the floor, watching the pacing of his shoes. Ears zeroed into the sound of liquid pouring, a deep gulp, and then more pouring. That lump in your throat grew with every slap of his heel back in front of you.

Of course you had to pick today to be defiant.

"It's like y'wanna be in trouble, baby." He hummed and you swore if you looked at him right now he'd be wearing that smug little smirk. 

"Pretty." He mumbled, his fingers dancing across the lacy top of the underwear you'd slipped on when you got home. "Too bad yeh not 'posed to be wearin' 'em."

"Off." He snapped his fingers in front of your heated face. At least he wasn't ripping this pair. 

The stringy lace slid down your silky smooth legs. Each high heeled foot stepping out of the leg holes one at a time. Shaky hands handing over the garment you put on in a moment of anger. 

Your eyes refused to meet his as he slid the panties into his back pocket. Your lips rolled into your mouth as he stared at you. The heat in your body raised with each passing second as he finished his drink. 

God, you'd never been in this much trouble.

"Y'know I was gonna take it a little easy on yeh." His words and the sound of the glass being sat down snapped you out of your fixed trance on the floor. His shiny black shoes disappeared from your line of sight as he circled around you. "Figured my baby girl jus' got protective over her daddy."

His hand ran down your cheek from behind you. Your head instinctively nuzzled into the few fingers that trailed from your jawline to your lips. Chaste kisses pressed to his fingertips.

"But now, I see you need a good lesson on who makes the rules." You gasped when his hand clamped around the front of your neck, your head snapped back roughly against his shoulder. His fingers digging into the side of your neck made you whimpered, a low stirring in your stomach.

His hand released you only long enough to loosen his tie. The fabric you once gifted him for his birthday dug into the skin of your forearms and wrists behind your back. The restraint, a little tighter than usual, not enough to hurt but enough to let you know this wasn't some usual punishment. 

"Bend." He said with a tight grip on the tie that held your arms in an uncomfortable position behind you. Your body maneuvered by him until your hips hit the edge of his desk. You gasped as your bare chest was pushed against the cold wood. Your nipples peaked from the sudden ice like material that you now laid halfway over. His hand finally left the intricate knots holding your arms back when your cheek rested on the table top.

"Looks like y'know how to listen when it comes to this." You could imagine his eyes rolling as he stood behind you. His hand ran down your ass, to the plug he'd placed there this morning. A quick tug on the pink silicone drew a whimper from you, your legs shifting back and forth in their spot.

Harry had to hold back a groan as he watched your hips sway. His hand gripped his twitching cock that throbbed in his pants at the sight of your pretty wet pussy already soaking for him. A smirk spread across his lips, his hand gripping the flesh of your round ass again.

His perfect little baby girl was such a whore for him.

Fuck, you were perfect.

"Thinkin' three fo' 'ry rule yeh broke today." His accent somehow thickened the more turned on he got. That heat burned in your stomach that turned in anticipation and a bit of nerves.

"Y-yes, daddy." Your voice betrayed you with shaky cracks. 

The room quickly quieted again after his hum of approval. His hand left your ass, left you completely. Silence had you straining your ears for any hint of a sound when you heard it. 

That familiar clink of a sound.

You buried your head into the smooth surface of the table, lips pressed against the wood to hide the moan that wanted to slip past your lips. Your core clenched around nothing but air, not sure how this was anywhere close to a punishment when you constantly had to beg him to be this rough with you.

You gasped as the cool leather of his belt ran down the strain muscles of your back. Tauntingly slow as it passed over the fabric of the tie, dancing across your fingers.

"What're in trouble fo'?" He asked from behind you, your lips that had been tightly clamped between your teeth unrolled, just enough to talk.

"Not answering your call, wearing underwear, using your name, and-" you sighed, "Touching another guy." You finally spit out, not wanting to add anymore lashings to your ever growing amount. 

"Hm, think'll add three more fo' that one." His voice was hard and cold through the air around you. "Better hear yeh count, sweetheart."

He gave no warning other than that. The sound of the leather slicing through the thickened air in the office was your only clue of what was coming. The sharp snap of the hide hitting the soft flesh of your ass rang through your ears before you felt the sting. 

"One." You spoke into the wood. Your nose flat against the desk, hands tightening around your restraint as the shockwaves of a dull pain ran down your spine, directly to your steadily wettening folds. 

Two, three, four, more and the spark of a pleasure still burned, lingered down into a blazing river of red marks across your ass cheeks to your pulsating pussy.

"T-t-ten." Your words choked and contracted in your throat when the belt smacked across your ass, five more left and you were determined to make it through. The grunts and groans that rolled from deep in his chest as the leather dug into your flesh again and again. Whimpering sobs, face flushed with tears and mascara as he went harder on you than ever before.

And that fucking plug you decided to keep in.

You were teetering on the brink of your headspace when the final smack came. Your breast smashed against the now warmed surface with the force. You cried, pushed forward into that floating sensation of the deep part of your mind as you were lifted by your restraints. Body maneuvered until you kneeled before him, heels haphazardly kicked off in the motion downwards to the ground.

The searing skin of your ass cooled against the marble floor when your shaky legs gave out to the weight on them. You sighed from the little bit of relief you got, stuffy nose from crying so much, desperately trying to suck air into your lungs. You were too wrapped up in yourself to hear the clank of the belt hitting the floor.

Your foggy mind lifted out of the deep when you felt his hand around the back of your neck, his cold features barely broke through your vision that was clouded with tears.

"What do y'say, baby?" His hand tightened in the hairs at the back of your head. A hard jerk backwards had you gasping in surprise.

You were far from being done with your punishment.

"Thank you, daddy." Your voice cracked from the amount of tears you were holding back. The words you'd spoken did nothing to change his unimpressed facial features, his tongue slid across his front teeth as he studied your mess of mascara and eyeliner.

He stood up abruptly, his hand didn't leave the back of your neck, sufficiently holding you up from your ass resting on the cool tile. 

"Yeh know, darlin', daddy doesn't punish yeh as much as he should. That's on me more than yeh. Should've put yeh in y'place more often, sweetheart."

Your eyes widened up to him. Whatever shred Harry always kept of himself while he was in this role was abandoned. No, now, he was fully in his dominant role. The waves of demand rolled through every part of him. His voice, his demeanor, his words.

"That's okay though, baby, gonna learn who yeh belong to. Isn't that right?" He practically cooed at you. A mock tone that made your face heat as blood rushed to your face. 

"Yes, daddy." Your chest seemed to heave with anticipation.

"Open." He said as his hand clamped your mouth open for you. Your obedient tongue sticking out for him before you even had a chance to think twice about it. 

Harry hummed as he stared down at you. The hand that was around your jaw slipped into your open mouth. His finger fucked into your open and waiting throating. Your legs tightened together as his smirk grew wider at your movement.

Sure, you weren’t supposed to move but God, you always wanted it so bad he couldn't help the turning of his lips.

He lowered himself to your level. No words were said as he loosened your restraints. The fabric that held your arms back finally, finally, was gone. Your body slacked forward as Harry backed away from you. His towering form loomed over you as your hands fell forward to hold yourself up.

The strain on your muscles in the back seemed to lift only momentarily before he guided you upwards by your upper arm. Your back on the now warmed surface of the desk, your head hanging off the side, your freed hands clutched beside you as your anticipation for what was coming grew.

"Gonna show me how sorry yeh are, darlin'." His throbbing cock was finally released from its confinement. The hard, pulsating, tip was red and aching for relief. Only millimeters from your upside-down vision. 

Your legs spread wider at the sight of him. Your toes pointed against the smooth oak, your arousal felt like it could have been running in a river down your legs as you licked your lips. Your mouth opened without any demand from him as he stroked his cock in front of you.

"Good girl." He groaned, his hand guided himself into your mouth.

You always had a hard time taking him. He was just so big, so thick. Your tongue pressed against his tip as he slowly rocked into you. His hands grasped onto your breast as his cock slid further and further down your throat.

You moaned around his member that stretched open the sides of your mouth. You tried your best to relax your throat, breathe through your nose.

"Relax yeh throat." He grunted as your throat constructed around him again. The irritated tone in his voice only made your slick folds drip with your arousal.

"I said to relax." He said once your gag reflex halted his movement for a third time. A harsh slap of his hand landed on your open and waiting cunt. You would have yipped at the feeling if you could have. He ceased your moment of being off guard to finally push himself fully inside.

You moaned the best you could as your throat finally relaxed. His balls rested against your nose, the crotch of his pants and zipper rubbed against your face but you didn't care. He felt so good in your mouth. 

You heard him let out a moan as you felt your nipples harden. His fingers lazily rubbed at your swollen clit as he slipped down your mouth.

"Why can't yeh be a good girl like this all the time for me, baby?" He asked as his hand held the back of your neck. His hips picking up to a pace that was almost too much for you. "So much fuckin' better for me when yeh jus' a hole for me to fuck." 

He pulled out of you suddenly. A string of your spit connected from his red tip to your mouth before he bent down to your level. The look behind his eyes was intoxicating. Fuck, he was enjoying this.

"Gonna have to keep you tied up to my desk, aren't I? Only time yeh good for me if when yeh have a cock stuffed in you." 

"I'll be good." You said as he stood back up. His hands gripped your thighs to turn your body around like a rag doll, your ass in the air as your face laid on the desk, again.

"Be good, huh?" He teased his tip against your opening, a deep groan left him from just how fucking wet you were. "Yeh call throwin' yehself at my employees bein' good?" 

"I didn't." You pouted, your bottom lip stuck out even though he couldn't see it. His cock parting the folds of your pussy, the thick tip against your sensitive clit had your hips shifting. 

You wanted him to stop being mad at you and just fuck you already.

"If I wanted someone else to touch yeh I would have told them to." He started to slip into you, the overwhelming sense of him starting to stretch you already filled you. Blood rushed to your lightheaded head as you restrained yourself from pushing backwards onto him.

"Such a tight cunt." He grunted as the thought from your earlier run in fell from his mind. Your velvet caves pulled him, his anger melted away as you clenched around him.

A hard thrust forward had him directly on your sweet spot, your eyes rolled back in your head as you held on tightly to the front of the desk. 

He wasn't messing around and he wasn't holding back.

You could feel his hip bones smacking against the abused flesh of your ass. The sting sent an electric shock through your body as he wrecked you. You could feel him pounding all the way into your lower stomach as your jaw unhinged from a sea of moans.

"Think he could fuck yeh better, sweetheart?" Harry asked as he pulled on the plug in between your cheeks. His cock rammed into you as the silicone slipped out.

"No." You finally managed to get out an answer through your moans, your wrecked vocal cords cracked until he let up. You almost turned around but you knew better, the sound of his bottom draw opening gave away his next move.

You two needed to fuck at his office less. He had way too much sex shit laying around here.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the cold gel of his lube coated fingers slipping into your tighter hole. Your breath caught in your throat as he slid back inside of your pussy. Your eyebrows furrowed together from the overwhelming sense of pleasure that pulsed through your veins.

"Such a slut, know that?" He spoke as a second finger joined his first one, fucking you open enough to take him. "Lemme fuck yeh in ever hole in my office." 

"Fuck." You moaned into the wood, your hands gripped around the front edge of the desk as he pulled himself out of you, a generous amount of lube slathered across your hole before he put some on himself. 

He took a second just admiring your wrecked state. Your pussy opened wide for him, able to be fucked so easily now that he'd destroyed it. Your ass shined red with lash marks, your hair a complete mess.

He had to stop himself from shooting a load into his own hand. His thoughts getting the best of him as he stroked himself from behind you. His tip pressed into you slowly as he waited for your muscles to relax.

You felt like you could have bit your bottom lip off from how tightly it was tucked under your teeth. Your nails dug into the desk as he pushed further into you, his head finally getting past your tight ring. His hips laid flat against your ass, his hands pulled back each cheek to get a good look at himself stretching you out.

"Gonna ruin you for anyone else. Y'understand?" He mumbled into your ear as he pulled up to his chest by the front of your neck.

"Yes, daddy." You squeaked out as he finally moved his hips. His head rested against your shoulder as you let out a sound you never wanted to admit to making. His cock hit all the right places, the stretch wasn't painful but you were so tight there you could feel every one of his veins pushing against your walls. 

You felt so full of him it was almost overwhelming. You could feel every throbbing jump of his cock as he pumped in and out of you. His grunts as his teeth dug into your shoulder, his fingers from his free hand swirled around your clit while his other one squeezed the sides of your neck.

Your arousal slicked all the way down to your shaky knees as your body bounced against his cock. You panted out moans as your body burned red hot. Your orgasm was just on the horizon, so close you could hardly keep your eyes open.

"Gonna cum with daddy's cock in yeh ass?" He asked even though you had no idea how he managed to put together words in this moment. Your own mind wasn't able to let you do anything more than nod.

"Cum for me then, pet." His finger pressed down harder on your clit, cock shoved deeper inside of you. 

Your vision blacked around the edges, body shook, your high washed over your head all the way down to your toes. The sound of your moans carried through the office, down the halls of the almost emptied building. Your mind barely had time to put together the fact he'd pulled out of you.

Until he slammed back into your cunt. 

A warmth filled you as you whimpered, your body slacked in his arms as his cum dripped out around himself. 

"I gotcha." He mumbled as he moved you both into his office chair. Your makeup smudged face pressed into his chest as you came down from your high. His hand ran across your back in soothing circles.

"Baby, yeh did so good." He said into your hair, his lips pressed in light kisses against your scalp. "Such a good girl. Made me feel so good, baby."

"Gonna take yeh home and get yeh a bath, hm?" He asked when your body felt less limp. You hummed your agreement, head still in that floating space for a second.

"Harry, you know I didn't flirt with him, right?" You asked after a moment. Your fingers danced across his bicep absentmindedly.

"Yeah, jus' like yeh know I didn't sleep with my secretary." He let out a chuckle when you raised your head to pout at him. "Gave me a good reason to fuck yeh like that though." 

"Shut up." You muttered to him. Your eyes rolled as he gave you a stern look.

"Pup, I jus' fucked yeh into next week, do not start with me again."

[svtkillua]

milk and tea > 1

rating: [pg-13 / angst] genre: soulmate au pairing: todoroki shouto x reader warnings: cursing, heartbreak, angst! word count: 5k

listen while you read here! join the discord!

chap 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 [final]

Some people related gold to beauty, to the shade of the sun when it reflected off of water in the summer. They associated the colour with the way the wind blew the warm toned leaves off of trees in the fall, pictured sunlight peeking through scattered blooming branches in the spring. Gold was the tone of wealth and wonder, a shade so beautiful that it was coveted as royalty, as otherworldly in design. It was the shade that flickered in the middle of a fire, it emitted the feeling of whimsy, of something bigger than it appeared. For you however it made your heart sink, the colour that filled your gut with dread and turned your blood to an icy sludge. You’d liked it at one point, had admired the way the tone shined in a straight line from the base of your palm straight up to the tip of your middle finger. But now it made you feel alone, hollow, like a constant shimmering reminder of the life you were meant to live, completely by yourself.  

A reminder that while the rest of the world had a soulmate, you had no one. 

It was funny how something you’d loved about yourself when you were younger had become the glaring marker of things you disliked now. The golden slash on your palm had been something you showed off to friends, comparing soul marks with the other kids on the playground, giggling about the possibilities of who you could match with. You used to all day dream about it, if one of you would pair up with the prince or princess of a country, if one of you would marry a celebrity and become a famous duo. The magic around it hadn’t begun to fade until your friends all got paired off one by one, birthdays starting to fill you with pain rather than the giddiness of a child. Looking at your palm was like staring at a ticking clock, one counting down to the moment everything you feared became the truth, the moment your twenty second birthday started and any chances of finding your soulmate were gone. 

Soulmate marks didn’t do much, almost serving like a tattoo you couldn’t get removed or cover with makeup, the skin varying in pigments and shapes from person to person. You didn’t taste what the other tasted, didn’t feel what they felt or know what they were thinking, you just saw them, matched their mark, and knew. Everyone spoke about feeling like they’d been hit by a tidal wave of emotions the first time they saw their other half, like the world stop spinning and all the things that didn’t make sense before suddenly had answers. You didn’t know how it felt, to meet your soulmate for the first time, to see them and feel that gush of emotions everyone spoke about so vividly it made you desperate to find it. You thought you had once, imagined for a few seconds that the way your heart started pounding and throat caved in that you had found him, the person made for you. 

He was beautiful, his duo-coloured locks a complete mess as the wind blew straight through the sweater you’d tossed on that morning. He’d spilled his coffee all over you as you both dashed through the park to get to opposite trains, his eyes wide when you looked up into them, lips parted and ready to spew out agitated jabs, but they’d never came. You thought you’d found it, tasted the possibilities of where things could go next, pictured yourself tracing your fingers over his pale skin as he stared right back at you and the noise of the park fell silent. You let yourself imagine a future with him, one where you’d finally get to be the friend that told everyone you’d found your person, your soulmate, the one who made your lungs give out and pulse pound so hard it bruised and broke apart your rib cage.

But then you saw his palm, his mark not golden but navy blue, the shade just slightly darker than that of a bundle of blueberries. His mark was not one line but one with multiple added on the sides like a tree spreading it’s branches out to each finger tip. It was it the same place as yours, the same straight edges. It was similar to yours, yes, but not the same. 

He was meant for someone, just not for you. 

Looking at him now you could still picture him from three years ago, could still feel the way your heart sped up just staring at him sleeping on your bed like it’d done the day he poured coffee all over your front. He wasn’t meant for you and yet your soul still breathed for him, he wasn’t designed to occupy your thoughts and despite that he was all you ever dreamed about. He was the thing that kept you up at night and greeted you when you fell asleep, the person that gave you even the smallest taste of what it could feel like to be someone’s something, even if all of it was only in your head. 

Shouto Todoroki. 

His hair was draped across his forehead as he mumbled into the pillow bunched up beneath his temple, lips apart as a breathy sigh fell from them while his knuckles bent, fingers digging into the duvet. The moonlight shining brightly outside casted through the windows and onto the planes of his face, accentuating the way his chest rose and fell like the weight of the world was, for once, not on his shoulders, the gentle pitter patter of rain meeting your eardrums and melting into the somber sensation in your veins. It wasn’t fair that he wasn’t yours. It was cruel that you got to be so close to him but didn’t get to love him freely, that your birthdays ticked by year after year with no soulmate in sight when someone so perfect was close but off limits. 

You had to meet them before you turned twenty two, that was the rule with soulmates, the reality not many had to face. If you didn’t meet your someone by then, you didn’t have one. It didn’t happen often, the cases of it far and few between, but still prevalent enough for facilities to offer counselling for people like you. People who were meant to be alone, people destined to spend forever without someone there next to them in the mornings when they drank their cup of coffee. People made for no one but themselves, left to wonder what exactly they were worth if they weren’t worth the universe giving them someone to love. 

Todoroki had come over because he knew that even if you kept insisting you were fine you weren’t, that the minutes ticking by that day weren’t like the normal ones because they were the last ones you could spend with an ounce of hope left. It seemed almost fitting, that you’d be alone when the clock struck twelve, that the sky would have opened up and started pouring buckets just a few minutes before your birthday officially began. Your time was about to be up, the digital clock on the bedside table glaring a bright red 23:57 at you when you took another glance at Todoroki, whose arm had sprawled out and now hung slightly off the too large mattress. 

You two had gotten lunch that day he crashed into you, neither of you mentioning the solid minute of silence that had passed after you laid eyes on each other in the park, pretending that neither of your chests had deflated when you looked at the other’s palms and weren’t met with the mirror of their own. He’d insisted on paying you back for the sweater and after some convincing you let him, that apology lunch turning into another, and another, until eventually you found yourself calling each other at two am to talk about how confusing life seemed to be. You felt connected to him, attached almost from the second you first heard him speak, like your heart had decided it belonged to Todoroki even though it wasn’t supposed to be. He’d become your constant over the past three years, your best friend and the only person who ever filled your day dreams, the one who was proving to be your ‘almost’. 

You two spent all your time together, it was almost like you wanted to make yourself hurt, like you adored to make believe the two of you could have a happily ever after when it wasn’t ever going to happen. For a while you’d grown selfish, thinking that maybe neither of you had a soulmate and in turn you could become each other’s, pretending that the stares you’d catch him sending your way meant more than the friendly half smiles that followed. You’d wondered if maybe he was silently wishing for it too, hoping that the universe had made a mistake and not made your marks match. That perhaps you’d end up together after everything was said and done and the pain of thinking you’d end up alone would have been worth it, because you would have had him. 

And then he’d met her. 

His soulmate. 

Your eyes fell shut at the thought of her, body shifting back towards the large-paned windows of your apartment as the rain splattered against them, oxygen leaving you in shaky puffs of held in emotions. You never liked to think about her, didn’t want to focus on the girl that was allowed to love Todoroki in ways that you weren’t. You couldn’t hold his hand, couldn’t touch him in public past pats on the arm or brushes when you passed each other in a crowded hall. You didn’t get to hold him at night or whisper quiet ‘I love you’s’ that made his thin lips spread into dazzling lazy grins. You didn’t get to love him and she did, and you hated how angry you were at the girl when you’d never even spoken to her, despised that you weren’t happy for your best friend like you were supposed to be. Just because you were meant to be alone didn’t mean he had to be, and yet in the bottom of your heart it didn’t feel right, like you’d spent so long convincing yourself maybe you could have each other that reality was a pill too tough to swallow. 

Momo Yaoyorozu was stunning. The midnight black hair that cascaded over her shoulders when she walked, a delicate smile that looked like that of a doll’s, a pleasant voice that flowed like a feather in the breeze. She was beautiful, and from the few bits Todoroki had told you about her, she was incredibly kind and smart, finishing up a degree in teaching so she could work at her own preschool someday. Her family was wealthy, about as wealthy as Todoroki’s was, and it was almost laughable that he’d end up being meant for someone so cookie cutter perfect for his parent’s standard.

Todoroki and his family hadn’t always harboured the best relationship, the family focused more on how things looked than how they felt, caring more about Todoroki’s potential future and life than his now or his heart. Maybe they had good intentions, deep down, just wanting their son to live a safe life, one with stability and comfort rather than hard work, freedom and passion. They wanted him to go to college and he decided not to. They pressured him to become a hero like his father. They pushed and he pulled back, a constant cycle of a someone trying to grow but being shoved back to the ground, like a flower in a garden trapped under a rock. 

You were someone they’d never cared for, not since the first time the pair of you bumped into them at the store during your lunch breaks from work. His father had shook your hand with a smile that turned stiff after a once over, your ears picking up on his mother’s not so subtle ‘you should stay away from her, people will get the wrong idea‘ as you excused yourself to finish shopping. Todoroki hadn’t listened, clearly, filling his afternoons and evenings with you most days, the pair of you near attached at the hip.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” 

His voice made you jump, eyes peeling open but body not turning as his fingertips skimmed the edges of your elbows, tone raspy from the sleep still thick in his throat. It made your stomach twist, feeling the heat of his body so close, his thin white shirt doing little to prevent it from radiating out of his chest. He was always hot, like the sun that kissed his skin was living inside his body, pouring out warmth and life that made you revolve around him like he was the center of your universe. 

“Why would I have woken you up?” 

“Because it’s your birthday.” 

Your head turned slightly at that, eyes focusing on the digital clock now blaring a bright red 00:04 that reflected off the glass topped table while you shrugged. He was staring at you, you could feel the way his eyes followed yours when you turned to look back out the window, focusing on the beads of water rolling down the damp panes rather than how delicate his touch was as his palms encased your folded forearms. You wanted to melt into him, wanted to fall back into his chest and savour the feeling of him so close to you while you could. You were silently desperate to pretend that he was your soulmate, that when you woke up in the morning he’d still be there in the bed next to you and not back at his house with her. 

“Happy Birthday.” He was being quiet, like if he spoke too loud you would crumble to pieces, his arms inviting themselves to snake around your waist and pull your back into his chest when you hesitated to do so yourself. His hair was tickling your cheek as his chin dipped down to rest on your shoulder, your lashes fluttering as your lids clamped shut and lungs deflated, memorising the way his heartbeat faintly pounded against your flush skin. It felt like a gentle melody, like a soothing thumping that reminded you he was real and not just a perfect mirage in your head. 

It was intoxicating, being in his arms, feeling the heat from his skin spreading through his shirt and into you, aware of his breathes as they barely skimmed the side of your cheek and neck. You wondered if he could tell how rapidly your pulse was pounding, if he knew that even when the world felt dark he was like the lone candle still flickering on, refusing to go out and plunge you into an abyss. You questioned if he knew just how much he meant to you; if he knew just how completely in love with him you were when you’d never uttered a single word about it. 

“Thank you.” You mumbled, hands raising to just barely skim his knuckles before you were pulling from his grasp, taking a few steps away from the window to sit down on the edge of your bed. You looked at him finally, focusing on the way his chest rose and fell while he followed you over to the mattress, his body sinking down beside yours and making the bed dip, your thigh scooting flush into his from the gravity. “I don’t know if I’d exactly call it happy though.” 

“I know.” He sighed and flopped back onto the mattress, hands resting on his lower stomach as his shirt bunched slightly. You looked down at him, admiring the way his hair fell off his forehead still messy from sleep as it fanned just barely around his ears, watching his jaw clench and relax as his mind worked languidly, taking yet another note of the scar that donned his left eye. The rain was creating odd shapes on his front, like moving shadows that couldn’t sit still, creating darkness on his light in its stagnant state, his body a canvas for the night sky to paint upon. 

He didn’t like to try and comfort you with words, usually, never forced out vague reminders that everything would be okay even if you didn’t have a soulmate. He knew that you loathed it, that the pity filled glances of people watching you grow to be alone made your skin crawl with frustration. Todoroki never babied you, never forced out whispers that he knew how you felt when in reality he never could. He still was there for you though, still calmed the waves of self doubt that churned in your gut with gentle brushes of his palms on your arms, silenced the screams in your head with his light laughter and fingers lingering on your hand longer than necessary. He’d been with you a lot more than usual lately, and you weren’t sure if it was because of your impending expiration date or if he simply didn’t feel comfortable yet sharing a place with Momo. 

They’d just moved in together a few weeks ago, the next natural progression in the relationship given his parents pushing for Todoroki to not hesitate so much with things. Momo and Todoroki had barely known each other for a few weeks before their families were urging them to move faster, to be thinking about marriage rather than getting to know the little intricacies about each other. The entire world was watching, waiting to make sure they followed the rules, that they weren’t fighting against something that was required by law to follow. He had pushed back against it for a while, wanting to take his time, to get to know the girl he was supposed to be with, but also had a hard time ignoring the pressure dumped on his shoulders. The place was nice at least, you’d seen it before they got their furniture moved in, let yourself imagine a world where the quaint home was for the two of you and not him and another girl.

It was hard to think about, Todoroki being with Momo, his lips touching her lips and his hands touching her palms. It made you want to vomit, imagining them together, to picture the closeness the two of you shared then mimicked between them, only more intimate, between lovers rather than friends. It stung to picture him bending down on one knee to ask her to marry him someday, burned a whole in your chest to envision him on his wedding day and you not be the one walking down the aisle to greet him. Sometimes you wanted to run away, to leave and move to a different city just so you wouldn’t have to be here when those moments happened, just so you could avoid the inevitable all ending heartbreak that was growing closer by the minute. 

His palm encased your knee fleetingly, drawing your attention away from the shadows dancing across his stomach, focusing on his eyes as his lips spread into a gentle smile. He looked incredibly handsome, perfect skin seeming to glow even in the dim cool toned lighting, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he blinked, weight being pushed up onto his elbows as he nodded once past you. You hesitated to look away, wanting to stare at him a while longer, wanting to memorise the way his lazy grin made your heart feel, wanting to follow how his eyes darted across your features like a painting only he had realised was a masterpiece. 

“Open your present.” 

His fingers left your knee to instead tap your elbow as your head turned, Todoroki sitting up beside you as your vision landed on a white box resting on your bedside table. You hadn’t noticed it before, the bow on top a pale grey that blended in with the pale light, fingers clasping around the box as you moved it onto your lap, peering down at it. It seemed dangerous, like the small container was actually a bomb in disguise, like it was nothing but false hope for the dreams inside your head when he did things like this. He always got you birthday gifts, always remembered to call and make sure you got home okay after a night apart, always texted you to check in when he went out of town or was too busy to see you. It was like he was unintentionally stoking the fire that burned for him in your gut, like he almost wanted you to stay so attached to him, so desperate to be next to him that you thrived off the morsels affection he’d pass your way. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” 

“Shut up and open it.” 

He laughed faintly when you rolled your eyes, your lips parting at the delicate necklace that laid inside the box. It wasn’t anything fancy or grand, a simple silver chain with a small moonstone pendant dangling from the centre, but it made your chest sear like it had been scorched. It felt like he’d grabbed hold of your lungs and squeezed with all his might until no air was left within them, like he took a needle and was sewing his own initials into your heart. You could tell he was staring at you, could feel his eyes burning holes into your cheek as your fingers traced over the delicate gem, pulling it from it’s confines and up further into the light, watching the way it glinted as it swayed. 

“Wow.” Your speech came out breathy, like it was a part of your natural breathing, eyes drifting from the chain pinched in your fingers to Todoroki, who was smiling like he’d never felt more relaxed in his entire life. “You shouldn’t have, Shouto.” 

“Do you like it?” 

“Of course I like it.” You looked at him when his hands encased your own, focus drifting over his features as he took the necklace and reached around your neck. It made your heart pound, feeling his thumbs skimming the sides of your throat, being so close to his lips that you could have leaned in and tasted them. “People just might get the wrong idea if they found out you bought it for me” 

“I don’t care.” He shrugged, smiling faintly at you when his fingers brushed the back of your neck, fiddling with the clasp until he moved his palms down to rest on his lap, the pendant landing just between your collarbones. You instinctively reached up and touched the surface of it, eyes flickering up into Todoroki’s as he watched you closely, like you were under a microscope. It made your lungs shrink in your chest, made your brain seem to malfunction as his calloused fingertips brushed along your knuckles, gentle as a breeze in the summer. 

The silence that fell was comfortable as you glanced down at your fingers, his own weaving through yours before your palms moulded together, the soul marks that were mismatched flush against each other. Your eyes followed his thumb as it moved back and forth over yours, tingles shooting up from your wrist to the top of your elbow, like fireworks were going off in your nerves simply from being so close to him. His free hand rose from its place beside your connected fingers and landed on your cheek, your gaze shifting up as he tucked your hair behind your ear, watching how his lips parted as a heavy exhale exited his body. You wondered what he was thinking, questioned if he could feel you swallow harshly when his touch skimmed over your jawline and made its way slowly along the side of your throat. You wondered if the small proximity between the two of you did the same thing to him as it did to yourself, if his heart was screaming for him to fall into you just like your own was begging him to do. 

“Thank you.” His lips tugged slightly into a smile when you spoke, head bobbing in a nod and causing a few of his long strands of hair to fall further onto his forehead. You wished you had his camera there now so you could capture how stunning he looked, hoping he had at least some idea of how breathtaking he could be while he focused on the beauty the rest of the world held. 

“You’re welcome.” He hummed, fingers caressing the necklace that hung from your neck, knuckles brushing your bare skin in the process. His gray and blue eyes only danced away from your own for a moment, thumb never once stopping its movements along your own as he reconnected your gazes with a blink of his eyes, grip on you tightening. “It looks beautiful on you.”

“I meant for staying.” Your voice was just above a whisper, scared of disturbing him or making him move away, like if you spoke too loudly he’d realise how little space there was between you. You didn’t want him to move away, didn’t want to feel a centimeter further from him ever again, not even for a second. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 

Being so close to him felt like you were in front of the sun even with the rain drizzling just out the window, like you were being baked by the heat and letting the worries melt off your skin. Todoroki was dangerous, because he was so incredibly perfect to you, even in his flaws. From the way he ignored everyone when he was trying to do paperwork to his the gentle humming he did when he fell asleep on the sofa that jolted in volume from his odd snores, you adored every single thing you’d ever found out about him. He was like a walking day dream you’d never get to really feel, like a perfect ice cream cone on the hottest day you’d never get to taste. He was everything you wanted and couldn’t touch, the man you desired who belonged to someone else. 

The man who was made for another woman. 

The man you loved to the very core of you, with every single cell in your body. 

The buzzing of his phone in his pocket was what pulled you apart, the quiet vibration drawing his eyes away before your own, hands fumbling with the object as his grip on you vanished. You knew it was her when he moved to stand and look out the window, voice quiet but loud enough for you to pick up a few words. Momo probably wanted to know when he’d be home, with how late it was, not to mention he got off work hours ago. You couldn’t blame her, even if you hated the thought of him leaving, even if you loathed the times like now where the bit of daydreaming you allowed yourself got ripped away. It was like reality came to smack you back into place, like it wasn’t cruel enough to let you stay happy with Todoroki too long, because the ending was one you knew and kept ignoring nonetheless. 

He sighed when he hung up, shoving the phone back in his pocket as he stared past the glass at the dreary world down below, your body rising from the bed to stretch, ignoring the ache in your soul knowing that he had to leave, knowing that you’d be alone here and he’d be at home with her. He turned to look at you with his lips pressed into a thin line, your vision barely able to make out his features with his body blocking the light as he bent over to grab his jacket off a chair. You wondered if he meant what he said before, if he really would rather be there with you than anywhere else. You questioned if he meant it with the entirety of his heart attached like the sentiment would mean from you, or if it was empty words from a friend trying to patch up holes in your already sinking ship. 

“I gotta get going.” 

He didn’t say why and you didn’t ask, because you already knew, and you imagined perhaps he wasn’t saying why because he knew how much it hurt you. You wondered if he had any idea how in love with him you were, if he hesitated when he kissed your forehead on the way out because he was aware of how desperately you wanted to feel closer to him. You questioned if he paused when he went out the door to turn and promise to call you tomorrow because he could see how lonely you already felt without him inside, if he waved from the street below up to you in the window because he knew how sickeningly much you wished he was going to be in bed with you when you woke up. But he didn’t stay, he couldn’t stay, because he wasn’t supposed to be with you in the first place. 

He was supposed to be with her. 

And when you looked down at the shimmering gold on your palm, the straight line that caught the small bits of light refracting through the glass panes of the window, it made your throat tighten, eyes feeling as wet as the raindrops dripping from the sky. Because it was a reminder that while he was driving off to be with her, with his soulmate, you were here. It was a reminder that he got to be with someone, got to love someone fully, that the rest of the world got to have someone who cherished them and held them and longed for them with every cell in their body. Because it was a reminder that he was meant to be for her and never would he belong to you. Because it was a glaring reminder that you had only been meant for one thing. 

To be alone.

-

[next chapter]

[desencante]

oi, march reads! I read a lot this month.

Please, don’t forget to leave a comment or kudos for the authors of these fics!

(The texts aren't the summary, just my ramble thoughts.)

Loving Cannibalism by glittering_git/@glittering-git (Mature, 2 works, 952 words) | Post-War, Angst, Established Relationship

Two marvellous and poetic histories about (loving) cannibalism. This is such a dark and heavy theme but the author does a great job writing and makes me enjoy reading them. (And I'm definitely here for more.)

(Please, read the Author's Tags.)

don’t say you love me, that’s extortion by LowerEastSide/@lower-east-side (Explicit, 1k) | Post-War, Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship

It is a domestic and loving and little sad history – about not saying 'I love you' but acting in that way.

The Pink Paradox by vina_writes/@dracothecupcake (Teen and Up, 1k) | Post-War, Humor, Auror Harry, Unspeakable Draco

Harry Potter Is Obsessed With Draco Malfoy TM. And Draco has pink hair. Have a fun time!

Harry's Promise by JosephineStone (Teen and Up, 2k) | Post-War, Angst, Reunion, Established Relationship

This one it's kind of part two of Circumpolar. The history continues the consequences of Draco's change, after the war – left me with a warm heart.

Burnt Casserole by Samunderthelights/@samunderthelights (General Audiences, 2k) | Post-War, Fluff, Established Relationship

Nervous Draco for Meeting Ron and Hermione. Getting back together and meeting your boyfriend's friends (who may hate you) showing them your (not) great cooking abilities.

Magical Homes, and Where to Find Them (in the arms of your lover) by Erebeus/@erebeus-roxy (General Audiences, 2k) | Post-War, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship

Who doesn't want some fluff established relationship sometimes? Harry has a painful case at work and then comes home to a calm and domestic night with his husband.

Together Like This by shealwaysreads/@shealwaysreads (Explicit, 3k) | Post-War, Getting Back Together

Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World TM. I find it so interesting reading stories where Draco denies Harry's love because of the war, and Harry is there to change his mind. Here we have that and it's written the super talented shealwaysreads.

For Old Times' Sake by thestarryknight/@the-starryknight (Teen and Up, 3k) | Post-War, Drugs, Potioneer Draco, Artist Harry

This one gives me such a cosy and domestic vibe. "'It's Complicated' is their relationship status" resume perfect what this fic is. (There're some cool references too, so pay attention.)

Like Gold by The_Sinking_Ship/@the-sinking-ship (Explicit, 4k) | Post-War, PWP

(It's always good to see.) Harry Has a Motorbike Just Like Sirius! Harry rides a motorbike and Draco rides him.

Harry and Draco's Little Talk by Ladderofyears (Teen and Up, 5k) | Post-War, Angst, Established Relationship, mpreg

Who doesn't hear 'I need to talk to you' by someone you like and run with? Harry thinks Draco will break up with him and freak (a little) out but maybe the subject of Draco's conversation is quite the opposite.

Sugar Sweet by The_Sinking_Ship/@the-sinking-ship (Teen and Up, 5k) | Post-War, Humor, Fluff, Auror Harry, Healer Draco

It is a very sweet story with a surprise party for Draco and Harry getting late but not so late.

Show them the night that they dreamed about before by fluxweed/@fluxweeed (Explicit, 6k) | Post-War, PWP, Threesome, Boss/Employee Relationship, Dubious Consent

(Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter/Percy Weasley)

All I have to say is: 😳😯🤫😈🔥🥵🔥🥵😈😏!

This Is How by bixgirl1/@bixgirl1 (Explicit, 6k) | Post-War, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, a/b/o

Omega Draco has an incident in the ministry Alpha Harry is there to help. After they fall in love! (One more reason to read: it's written by bixgirl1!)

It Never Occurred to Me That I Would Fall in Love With a Frenchman by lamerezouille/@elsalapizza (Teen and Up, 6k) | Post-War, Angst, Humor, Established Relationship

OMG, I never read something like this! The plot was so surprising – you will ever think about the Malfoys meeting the Dursleys? BOOM! Here it's a very awkward dinner that looks funny but has some depth stuff going on.

Litany by thistle_verse/@thistle-verse (Mature, 7k) | Post-War, Angst, Pandemic, Isolation, Touch-Starved, Ghost Draco

Ghost's story isn't my cup of tea, but I give this one a chance and don't regret it. The magic world is passing through a pandemic (just like us!), Harry is doing quarantine at home alone until ghost Draco, directly from Azkaban, shows up. Then, we have fluffy and sad conversations between the two and a turn of events in the end. (And lots of lists.)

As the Crow Flies by thestarryknight/@the-starryknight (Mature, 7k) | Post-War, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Animagus Draco, Werewolf Harry

Draco helps Harry on a full moon night. Domestic vibes with some angst. 10/10!

Circumpolar by LowerEastSide/@lower-east-side (Teen and Up, 8k) | Hogwarts Era, Angst, Sectumsempra Scars

I see an amazing fanart and spend some days obsessed with Draco having worse scars from Sectumsempra. (There's, in this list, another two fanfics with this concept.) In this one, because of the pretty bad scars Draco's plan about the war change – is interesting to imagine how one incident could put another thing in perspective for him. And Draco and Harry have a touching conversation on the Astronomy Tower! (I'm a sucker for long expressive conversations about feelings.)

if somebody’s there, then tell me who. by kryptidfox/@kryptidfoxwrites (Explicit, 11k) | Post-War, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Housemates

Much more like Idiots to Lovers! Draco has a disastrous way to make Harry notice him – bring every man possible to a one-night stand then call their name very loud – until things go wrong when he brings a guy named Harry. I constantly have a good time reading these two making dumb thing in their path to be together.

Commander by Cassiopeias_shadow/@cassiopeiasshadow (Explicit, 14k) | Post-War, Horror, Suspense, Drugs, Animagi, Auror Harry, Light dom/sub

Almost a case fic with dark things in the plot. Draco is addicted to potions and in a pretty bad place when he has a chance to help the auros in a big case. It turns out that Draco got so much involved with the case he needed Harry, to make him put his feet on the ground – the fine line between doing everything to make up for your past or lost yourself doing things for the great good. Featuring: Harry as a snake and parselmouth kink.

(Please, read the Author's tags.)

Fire and Wonder by Lomonaaeren (Mature, 15k) | Post-War, Dark-ish, Veela

Lomonaaeren written dark Harry, I'm here for! After the war, Harry get wing and has some controversial ideas about The Great Good. So, we see him put these ideas into practice with his mate Draco.

Hold what's dear in your hands (and never let go) by Fae_vorite/@faevorite-main-blog, PollyWeasley/@polly-weasley (Explicit, 16k) | Post-War, Arrange Marriage, a/b/o, mpreg

I was always here for some a/b/o and this story is a chef kiss! Harry can't find a partner; So he goes to an upgrade tinder and matches with Draco, then they live happily ever after. Featuring intersex Draco and a lot of sex kinks.

Keep Me Close (I Need Your Faith) by aviforsrose (Explicit, 23k) | Post-War, Angst, Friends with Benefits, Light dom/sub

Idiots in love! The old same GOOD story: I love him but he loves me? Yes, of course! Man, you two have been pinning each other for years now. Let's do some love confessions.

The Critiquer by dysonrules (Explicit, 24k) | Post-War, Humor, Romance, Secret Identity

Drunk Harry doing dumb stuff with Seamus and Dean, take him a very funny drive to Draco's hearty. Draco and his assistant interactions was another very humorous part. Can't forget to congratulate who made all of the edits, principally the text divisors.

The Nobility of Ascent by Lomonaaeren (Explicit, 27k) | Post-War, Angst, Politics

I love reading Lomonaaeren stories with dark-ish Harry. This is another great example of just not the good or evil side. Harry can't Make a Better World because of pureblood politics so he goes to Draco for help.

Can I tell you something? by GallaPlacidia (Not Rated, 33k) | Post-War, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Sectumsempra Scars, Drugs, Auror Harry, Burlesquedance Draco

What I can say about this one? It's by GallaPlacidia, go read! The story takes place during a few years, after the war, Harry collides in parties with a drugged Draco, things happen – they lived a very real journey of connecting with someone, learning to love and to be loved and understanding the mistakes of the past... 10/10!

Says The Magpie To The Morning (Sorrow, Take Your Own Advice) by Femme/@femmequixotic (Explicit, 33k) | Post-War, Angst, Getting Back Together

Draco Horrible Sad TM after a breakup with Harry. Featuring so much PDA by Pansy/Ron, angst, miscommunication, angst, sharing a house with your ex and angst. If you are up to a sad time before a happy ending this nice story is here.

Eight Days (to Save the World) by gnarf/@gnarf (Mature, 47k) | Post-War, Friend to Lovers, Housemates, Case Fic, Auror Harry, Unspeakable Draco

Shit happens in The Wizard World again so Harry, Draco and company get together to Save The World Again. What will you do if you receive an order not so right by your superior? A very interesting story begins with the ministry's haunted easy target to blame for the new conspiracy. Enjoy too Protective Harry.

Turning Leaves by Kbrick (Explicit, 112k) | Post-War, Angst, Fluff, Time Travel, Auror Harry, Unspeakable Draco

Draco Tries to Concert His Friendship With Harry by Time Travel. This gives me The Cursed Child vibe but so much better, Draco goes to several scenarios trying to change one important moment in the past to make Harry like-like now. A great story who think about what will happen if Draco acts differently in the Hogwarts years.

Cannot Save You Now by tigrelilje (Mature, 132k) | Hogwart Era, Angst, Horror, Dark, Vampire Harry

Harry dies and comes back (as a vampire) for revenge! If you want to see Harry hating almost everybody this fanfic this here. Featuring: Slytherin Harry.

[binunus]

college bf!bin

a/n the duality of this man??? i’m deceased...anyway i did not think this would go this long but uh my hand slipped...happy birthday binnie!

word count: 5k

genre: fluff, smut, (tiny) angst _________________________________________________

ugh yo

bin is so??? infuriatingly hot??? yet cute at the same time

major: exercise science

and because I love mermaid prince/the beginning, he’s been on the swim team since first year college

swam varsity starting his second year

besties with eunwoo, they were roommates their whole college career

alright so bin loves making friends

he’s so playful and talkative once you really get to know him

but his aura?? tbh very intimidating

like he has an rbf and just like he’s so tall, broad shouldered, built, like he just carries himself very strongly that you will get intimidated when you first meet him

very well known in the university

literally has a professional photographed banner of him hanging in the athletic building with the gold medal he won freshman year

a little embarrassed about it

not really, only when the boys (as in literally the other five) tease him

myungjun: woOoOw bin that guy on the banner really looks like you, don’t you think?

rocky: we geeeeet it you’re a star athlete

blah blah blah you know the vibes, they’re endearing

so how do you meet bin?

basically you’re a friend of a friend—you’re eunbi’s (sinb) friend

you’ve only met bin briefly from time to time, but otherwise you never really had any reason to get acquainted with him

your only encounters of him are when he wants to annoy eunbi and she immediately puts him in his place

but then suddenly in the spring semester of your 2nd year, you and him are in the same 8 am

a boring statistics gen ed class that everyone needs to take in order to graduate

you were running a bit late during the first class meeting—you woke up 30 minutes after your alarm and literally rushed out of your apartment—you made it to class with 2 minutes to spare

most of the seats were filled up already, except that one seat in the back left corner by the window next to the one and only moon bin

oh would you look at that

you felt a bit relieved honestly, you didn’t know anyone else in that class so at least you saw a semi-familiar face

he grinned at you when you sat down

“hey y/n”

you were a bit taken back, “you know my name?”

he laughed a little, “yeah of course, you’re one of eunbi’s really good friends, why wouldn’t I know your name?”

before you could respond, the professor started class and ceased your conversation

one thing you realized as the weeks start to go on

you and bin could not give any two fucks about statistics

no offense to stats lovers

every 8 am on mon/wed/fri, neither one of you would pay attention in class

you both enabled each other to not pay attention basically

so when the professor announced the content and date for the first exam

you and bin literally looked at each other with the same expression

you were both fucked

after class was dismissed, instead of the two of you quickly packing your things and fleeing the room immediately, you both lagged a little bit

you: so...do you know anything that’s going to be on the exam?

bin: uh...no? y/n you’re literally right next to me, you know I don’t do jack shit in this class

you: well fuck, how are you gonna study then bin?

bin: I was probably gonna ask my roommate to help me, he passed with a 96 when he took this class

you give him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster up, you lean in and clasp your hands together like you’re praying

“can he help me too...? please?”

bin’s eyes go a lil wide bc you were a bit closer than he was used to and shit was his heart racing rn?

bin: uh...yeah...sure, i’ll text you to come over when we’re gonna study

you beam at him and like in your excitement you give him a hug

“thank you thank you thank you! i literally cannot fail this class. I’ll see you on friday bin!”

with that you grabbed your bag and just left, leaving bin shocked

he’s surprisingly a shy boy okay!

he always thought you were cute from when he first saw you hanging out with eunbi, but ofc he never thought any more of it

until you guys had this class together and he started to think every day, that wow you are really cute

bin texts you the next day

coincidentally, eunbi texts you too

bin: hey this is bin, if you’re free in an hour my roommate’s gonna help me go over the material in ch. 1

eunbi: why did bin ask for your number

you to bin: yes! send me your addy and i’ll be there :)

you to eunbi: we’re in the same stats class lol and we’re gonna study for our exam next week

eunbi: lol moon bin studying? you might wanna bring some wine with you for emergency y/n

you: lol what do you mean by that?

eunbi: binnie hates studying, but good luck!

ahh, eunbi becomes unhinged when it comes to bin

but you know it’s bc they’re that close, they’re literally childhood best friends, more so like siblings

still, studying w him couldn’t be that bad right?

spoiler alert, it went alright

you felt bad showing up to bin’s apartment empty handed so you picked up some coffee before you arrived

you officially meet bin’s roommate, eunwoo, and you’re floored for like 2 minutes bc literally how can a man like him be real?

cue bin being a bit jealous bc yeah he knew his roommate’s perfect but like damn did you have to be affected by him too :(

eunwoo’s a good teacher alright? you actually understood the material from him

you: idk what eunbi’s talking about, you’re actually not that bad at studying bin

bin being offended: oh god what did eunbi say about me

eunwoo smirking: maybe it’s because you’re here y/n, bin usually doesn’t focus this much when it’s just me trying to help him

you: ???

bin in his head: i can’t trust anyone huh 

before you left his place, you and bin planned to meet up and study one more time before your stats exam

it was just you and bin this time

although you’d never admit it, yes you tried to look good for meeting up with him

yeah he’s a friend?? at least you think you were at that level?? but still, he’s a cute friend and you really didn’t want him to see you looking crusty

you and bin end up studying for a whole 5 hours

granted, half of that time you two were messing around, eating food, trying to procrastinate for as long as you could

bc even though you two had a good handle on the material now—thanks to eunwoo—you both still hated statistics

you knew bin started to get more comfortable with you bc he started teasing you

it made you happy hehe so ofc you started to quip back at him

not at the intensity that he and eunbi do but it’s enough for you :)

he walks you back to your apartment after your study session

wow what a gentleman

bin waving bye at your door with the cutest smile: see you in class y/n :)

mayhaps your stomach did a little somersault

anyways

on the day of your exam you were freaking out

you have test anxiety ah ha ha

you woke up at 5 bc you were paranoid about being late to class

you’re like hastily looking over the notes again when you get to class like are you really prepared omg you’re psyching yourself out hella

bin comes in with 2 cups of iced coffee and he’s like woah are you okay

you: i woke up at 5 bin, idk if i can do this omg

you are like visibly in distress rn and he feels like a pang in his chest 

he was gonna mess with you and say like “bet im gonna get a higher grade than you” but he smartly decides against it

instead, he just takes your hand and gives it a little squeeze: y/n, take a deep breath. you’re going to do great, you studied your ass for this and we both know that you got this material down—even eunwoo hyung said you were gonna ace this exam. just trust your instincts, okay? breathe with me.

he was staring at you so intently and genuinely when trying to calm you down

your anxiety yeeted and suddenly you felt shy

you: th...thanks bin...

bin was worried about you while taking the test rip, he kept secretly glancing at you (while also trying not to make it look like he was cheating) just to make sure that you were okay

he walks you to your next class after you both finished your exam

bin: you sure you’re okay? you said you woke up at 5, did you even eat breakfast? let’s get food after your next class.

you were feeling better after the test but like you got so endeared at his fussing

yes you and bin got lunch that day

your exam results were uploaded the next day

you immediately called bin: I GOT A 95

bin: i told you that you would ace it! i got a 90 hehe

you: bin i literally owe you and eunwoo my life, lemme buy you guys food or something

you hear a little bit of bickering over the phone and suddenly you’re talking to eunwoo

eunwoo: i would love some sushi, but since bin can’t eat seafood, why don’t you come watch his swim meet this weekend :)

you: o...h...o-okay yeah i’d love to watch, what time is it? :)

eunwoo: it’s saturday at 10 am

you: okay! i’ll see you there bin

bin already planning on drop kicking eunwoo

cha eunwoo—best wingman™

you basically beg eunbi to go with you to bin’s swim meet

eunbi: i know bin can swim, why do i have to watch him flounder around under water

also eunbi: faster bin! don’t you fucking dare lose!

bin places first this meet

are we shocked? no

okay you mentally prepared yourself for seeing him shirtless, but clearly you didn’t prep enough bc you’re on the cusp of drooling when you’re watching him from the bleachers

and let’s face it, you’re not subtle and eunbi knows everything so she’s literally closing your jaw for you and like messing with you

eunbi: y/n, you’re really sure you like bin? he’s a good guy but c’mon, i think you deserve better

you: since when did i say that i like him ???? and what do you mean ??? i think he checks...all the boxes...for me...

eunbi: maybe it’s bc i’ve known him since when he used to wet his pants so i don’t understand why people are attracted to him, but like...really, you’ve been checking him out since he removed his shirt. even the ref can see that you’re simping over him

you and eunbi meet up with eunwoo and the rest of bin’s friends—that you haven’t met yet but know of

jinjin: oh so you’re the y/n that bin’s been talking about *wink wonk*

baby you’re blushing

even more so when bin comes up to your group

mmm middle parted wet hair, muscle tee and white sweats, towel around his shoulders

he’s so hot ???

you’re all congratulating him blah blah, but like bin keeps glancing at you and all you can do is just smile and like nervous laugh

sanha: y/n! eunbi noona! you should come eat with us to celebrate bin hyung’s win

eunbi glances at you, little smirk on her face: i have plans, but i know y/n’s free! bin you make sure they get home safe after y’alls dinner plans :)

hwang eunbi—best wingwoman™

dinner with the boys was chaotic, you were talking and joking around with them as if you didn’t just meet them today

*you about to get your wallet*

bin, not even able to look at you: it’s okay y/n, i got you this time

cue the boys teasing

astro: kings of making fun of each other

rocky as the group is splitting up: walk y/n home safely hyung :) don’t stay out too late

bin: sorry about them, they’re a bunch of loud idiots...ah haha...

the walk back to your apartment is actually pretty sweet

he didn’t know if you would actually come watch his meet or not but he was excited when he actually saw you

you talk about small random things about yourselves, but it’s not like useless information, you bet that both your subconsciouses are keeping track of whatever y’all are talking about

you give each other a “friendly” hug goodnight...that lasts like a minute or so

and while you’re hugging, bin just can’t help but think that wow you fit so perfectly in his arms

and on the other hand, you’re thinking he feels so warm? so safe? you don’t want to pull away?

but ofc the hug has to end and you’re thanking him for walking you home and he’s like glued to his spot waving goodbye sweetly and waiting for you to go inside so that he knows you’re safely in your apartment before leaving

bin sighing dreamily as he walks back to his and eunwoo’s place

eunwoo waiting on the couch with a glass of water: how was your date ;)

bin: it wasn’t a date, i just walked y/n home

eunwoo: yeah, but you want it to be a date

bin: ...shut up

god why is the pining stage so long

alright everyone knows you and bin like each other

it becomes pretty obvious after the swim meet

you and him fall into this little routine of switching who buys coffee for your 8 am

and then he’d walk you to your next class afterwards

you both still don’t pay attention in stats, sorry

but that means more outside study sessions dates

you come watch his swim meets, whether astro’s there or you’re just watching by yourself

and then you and him get lunch?? early dinner?? right afterwards, it depends on whenever his meet ends

but like??? neither of you have confessed your feelings for each other

even though you both have like a little hint that yeah the feelings are mutual

you and bin are literally like this for 3 months, like damn the semester is almost over

eunbi and eunwoo are tired of your shit, they’re both just like: when the fuck are they getting together? we’re sick of this.

alright so the masterminds literally pay one of eunwoo’s friends from his major to ask you out while you’re studying with bin

let’s do mingyu why not, he was in your korean history class last year

you and bin are in the library, half studying half goofing off per usual

eunwoo, eunbi, and mingyu are at the opposite side of the floor

mingyu: u sure bin won’t clock me for trying to ask out y/n

eunwoo: probably not??

eunbi: just do it please

mingyu giving them both the finger before walking up to your table

“hey y/n...i was wondering if you’d like to get dinner with me...as a date?”

you: o_o huh?

mingyu: i always thought you were cute from when we had class together last year, but i never had the balls to ask you out or anything...you’re not dating anyone, right?

you glance at bin to find that he’s already looking at you with an expression that you don’t really know how to read

you: um...well no I’m not-

bin: actually, we’re dating so y/n can’t go out with you mingyu, sorry.

mingyu’s not even phased, he just gives you a thumbs up and then leaves

you’re confused like literally what is going on—and then you process what bin said and you whip your head to look at him

bin: sorry i said that...i just felt...jealous i guess when mingyu asked you out

you: I wouldn’t have said yes anyway...I sorta like someone else

bin: fuck it, the topic already came up...y/n I’ve liked you for a while now but uh...I don’t know I guess I was scared to tell you because I’m scared of rejection

you just laugh, but not mockingly! more like bin you’re so cute wtf

“bin, why would I reject you when I’ve literally been into you for the past four months?”

it’s safe to say that you and bin officially began dating after that

eunwoo texting in their gc: bin and y/n are finally together

myungjun: fucking finally

bin: how...did u know that eunwoo...?

*eunwoo has left the chat*

alright but bin’s charm?? flirting?? teasing?? sweetness?? up 1000%

bin is touchy y’all, in private his hands are always on you, whether it be sexual or not sexual is up to you

he restrains himself in public ofc, the most he does is put a hand on your waist or hold your hand

eunbi threatens bin early on in your relationship: bin you’re like my brother, but y/n’s one of my dearest friends and if you as much make them cry i will kill you

ofc bin is still eunbi’s punching bag, but when you three are hanging out, he’s dramatic and acts like he’s hurt so he’s like whining to you

sometimes you play along and coo at him like: aww binnie, where does it hurt baby?

other times you’re like: you really think i believe that?? with the size of your biceps??

eunbi: excuse me while i vomit

okay but binnie? bestest sweetest boy

yes he looks all big and intimidating

but he’s soft—especially for you

your nicknames for each other are either “bub” or “baby”

yes will join in making fun of you with the boys, but when you start pouting he’s a goner and will defend you

bin is also a big cuddler, but i mean you’re not complaining hehe

he’s the big spoon, no questions asked

okay but being in bin’s arms is like your favorite place in the world

his frame literally just envelopes you and all you can feel and smell is him and it’s so??? content, you feel at home with him

you feel bad in the morning bc like his arm has to be sore from your weight so you try to like get out of his grasp, but he literally just whines and hugs you tighter

okay but just imagine you and bin napping and his arms are around your waist, his nose is buried in your neck and he wakes up like nuzzling his face in your shoulder like a puppy

im soft

one week you’re staying over at bin’s apartment and then the next week he’s staying over at yours, the cycle goes like that

if you’re one of my ladies with a ~vagíne~, he will buy all your cravings and your tampons/pads, literally anything you want that week, it is yours

doesn’t really get jealous now that you two are official, he knows that you’re his and he’s yours

you two lightly bicker like friends, but you’ve never had a terrible fight before

you were really close to though—or...like you did?? but it was resolved really quick

one of the only problems of bin is that he hates showing weakness and it takes him a whole lot to truly fully 100% be vulnerable with someone even if it’s someone close to him

he pulled a muscle in his arm and it cost him one of his swim meets

he had to go to rehab for like a month and you knew that mentally he’s been off bc of it

you try to ease talking him into telling you about how he’s really feeling but he just kept dodging the subject

one night after one of his rehab sessions, he came back to your place and you’re just like

“hey bubbie, how was rehab? how are you doing?”

and he just snaps at you: stop asking me how I am, y/n, it’s getting really annoying

you’re taken aback, like what the fuck where did that come from?

your eyebrows furrow and you cross your arms bc you are not going to get spoken to like that

“so me worrying about you and wondering how your recovery’s going is annoying? that’s what a partner is supposed to do, moon bin. what’s going on with you?”

bin: you’re being suffocating! it’s the only thing you ask me about nowadays, sometimes I—

oh boy you got mad

you: I ask you because I know you’re not telling me things! I know you’re suffering by yourself and I want to let you know that I’m here for you, I want to help take some of the pain away or at least help you deal with it because I’m your partner! but how can I if you can’t even let me in?? we’re fucking dating moon bin, we’re supposed to go through rough times together. and you call me suffocating...? 

bin’s silent and he’s looking at the floor

you sigh, tears are building in your eyes because you’re frustrated and a bit hurt by what he said, and your voice cracks when you speak again: if i’m suffocating you, then you should leave. text me or something when you can breathe again, I don’t know.

there’s a bit of spite in your words, hidden by the pain

bin sees the tears rolling down your cheeks and that’s when he knows he fucked up

he’s never seen you cry before—besides like from a sad movie or something

so like the fact that he made you cry and hurt you with his words? damn he hates himself rn

he immediately wraps his arms around you, and you like try to push him to get away bc why is he hugging you? didn’t he just say that you were suffocating? why is he confusing

bin: baby, I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have taken out my frustrations on you, you’re not suffocating me I promise...you’re right about everything, I should be sharing things with you and telling you how I’m really feeling...I’m sorry.

you don’t say anything and just like sniffle and he picks you up and brings you to your bedroom and then he just lets it all out

he tells you how rehab is hard and like yeah his muscle pain is going away, but he doesn’t know if he can swim as fast as he used to and that scares him

and he tells you that sometimes he’s thought of giving up swimming since his injury, but then he thinks of you and that’s how he’s still going through with rehab

you’re his motivator and comfort but he doesn’t want to show you his weak side bc he hates that part of himself

and at this point, bin starts tearing up and you’re like stroking his hair to try and comfort him

bin: I’m not good at telling my feelings baby...probably why I didn’t tell you I liked you until 4 months later...but I promise I’ll work harder and at least try and tell them to you.

ugh pain

anyway your communication with serious things got better after that encounter

eunbi finding out that you and bin argued and he made you cry and she literally punched his stomach

you: omg eunbi stop

bin: it’s okay...I sorta deserved that

eunbi: why...are you not swearing at me? shit, bin are you okay?

he nods to the girl and just puts an arm around your shoulder: we talked things through, don’t worry. I’m all good now, but I did deserve that punch because I hurt y/n when I promised you I wouldn’t

bin ends up having a full recovery and bam his first swim meet after he got the clear from the PT, he gets first place again

all the boys and you and eunbi were there supporting him

bin was hella nervous before the meet started, but you gave him a little good luck kiss and was like: I believe in you bub, no matter the result, as long as you give it your all and don’t hurt yourself again, you’ll be the winner to me :)

this was actually when the first “i love you” was said

after your little pep talk in the locker room, bin’s just hugging you and holding you for comfort

and he just went out with it

“I love you y/n”

you blush hella hard bc you were not expecting that

obviously you’ve been feeling it like yeah your feelings for bin have grown into love for a while now

you just bury your face in his chest and hug him tighter

“I love you too binnie, now go get em bub.”

he smiles and kisses you and tells you that he’ll see you after the meet is over

you come back to the crowd where the boys and eunbi are and you just have a huge smile on your face, you’re literally glowing

myungjun: please tell me you guys didn’t fuck before his swim meet

speaking of fucking

okay let’s get down and dirty ladies and gents wink wonk mmm grr bark bark

bin is so sexy y’all like i dont need to tell you that

he’s 100% a tease

you have a little muscle kink hehe

which bin very much uses to his advantage

if bin is wearing a sleeveless shirt, you bet he wants to smash that day

will walk around shirtless after a shower or after a workout just to turn you on and then depending on his mood, he might tease you for like an hour or you’ll just get right to it

he’s very proud of his body and the work he put into it and knowing that you get turned on from one look of it?? gives him an ego boost, he loves it

one time at a party, he wore a crop top (mm hello bad idea bin) and you literally went feral

you dragged him inside the nearest bathroom and just started making out

he’s an ass guy

...all of astro are ass guys, it’s just obvious with how much they slap each other’s asses and poke each other’s assholes

okay you know how he’s touchy right? i mentioned that earlier

he always wants you on his lap

even if there’s a space available, nope your seat is his thighs

ofc when the situation allows, like you’re not gonna sit on his lap in class duh

most of the time in public like if you’re hanging out with the boys or something, it’s innocent

but if he wants to be a tease, he’ll literally just tighten his grip on your hips and grind you down onto his cock

subtle, he won’t straight up thrust into you

just enough to get his dick stirring and make you feel the outline of it through your pants

and then he just stops and hugs your waist again?? wtf

his major’s exercise science right? will ask if he can practice on you for anatomy and physiology, but you know after touching you in a couple places, y’all will just end up fucking

likes to bite and mark

very proud seeing the hickeys he leaves on you

you can bite, but you can’t bruise, idk his upper body is exposed a lot bc swimming so you can’t really leave any marks on him unless it’s the off season

foreplay’s cool, but he prefers the main event, he just wants to be in you

as much as he loves doggy, his fav position is the hook

(it’s when your legs are on his shoulders ohoho and it just lets him fuck you in a deeper angle mmm)

also in the hook, he can choke you

if i have a choking kink, you have a choking kink

okay little tangent, choking is so hot?

like just imagine you and bin are making out, he pushed you against the wall, literally grinding his hips into you, and his hand just comes up and squeezes your throat? that’s so sexy

likes butt stuff oops

i don’t make the rules, he just does

daddy kink, but no power play

will not degrade you (even if you really just want him to call you his dirty slut) bc he really values seeing you as equals

seeing your face when you cum is a must

almost always: you cumming → bin cumming

nothing gets him off more than knowing that he’s making you feel good

after !! care !!

sweetest boy!!

will clean you up with a warm towel after sex

and if you’re one of my ladies, he will always remind you to pee so that you don’t get a UTI

if y’all had a marathon or something, he will draw a bath and carry you to the bathroom and you will bathe together, so soft

always ends sex with an i love you :’)

okay let’s get back to the soft stuff

special thing about swimmer bin: pool dates

sometimes when he’s practicing and it’s just him, he asks you to come to the aquatic center and you two end up splashing around and being cute together

he like knew that you were the one for him some time during senior year

it was the holidays and his parents invited you to spend christmas with their family since your parents were out of the country this break

his parents and sister liked you immediately—which you were so scared about, but bin just knew

you woke up early christmas eve (and bin was out like a rock) so you just went downstairs to brew some coffee or something and you saw that his mom was already starting on making food

naturally, you offered your help and she was like no, you’re a guest y/n, but obviously you started helping

bin comes downstairs like an hour or two later to see you, his mom, and his dad just cooking and listening to christmas music and talking and his heart just like swells??

you: morning binnie :)

his mom: how can you be sleeping when y/n’s here helping us with christmas dinner

his dad: what kind of boyfriend are you, son?

just kidding all jokes

but that’s the moment when he knew

best boyfriend bin ugh

he becomes a legend in the school for swimming

but doesn’t continue after college, he’s all about becoming a physical trainer after graduation

he goes to grad school, while you’re out working in business

bin moves in with you after graduating, it was the obvious next step

you do talk about the future together, but obviously bin’s still in school and you’re both fresh from undergrad so there’s no rush yet to tie the knot

doesn’t stop his or your parents from talking to you two about marriage tho oops

ugh but the domesticity after bin moves in with you? superb

like yeah obviously you both basically lived together anyway when he still roomed with eunwoo just from how much you and him spent at each other’s places

but like your apartment is now both of your place and it’s like your home is finally complete

your apartment becomes the reunion place for the boys and eunbi

at this point everyone knew you and bin were gonna get married eventually

eunwoo and eunbi: we did that ;)

and that’s how you and your college bf!bin live happily ever after uwu

happy birthday binnie moonbob ♥

1-25-21

[woeisme-iamwoe]

an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 1

I went through my entire ao3 history because I’m insane, AND here’s my favorites. (There’s not a lot of aus because I’m not a huge fan of them, and there’s no sad endings. I’m a hopeless romantic leave me alone. There is angst though! Lots) 

Beginning with SakuAtsu (I’m a hoe for Atsumu): 

Hide and seek, by badreputation (10k. E. canonverse) 

It sure is a good thing Atsumu doesn't have a latex allergy 

It’s just a fleeting infatuation. As long as he pushes through it he’ll manage. So what if nowadays there isn’t a night where he doesn’t dream of Sakusa pinning him down on his own bed, in the shower or make Atsumu go down on his knees in the hallway? Those are just pesky details.

Some Memories, We May Keep, by mika60 (31k. T. canonverse) 

This is canon, fight me on it. 

The missing panels, the missing games, the missing moments.

The them we never saw.

*Now complete! :)*

 every action has an equal and opposite reaction, by akanemnida (10k. T. canonverse) 

Miya Atsumu gets a modeling contract with Calvin Klein, which sets Kiyoomi's heart in motion.

(Or: Sakusa Kiyoomi realizes that the rules governing the universe are absolute rubbish at explaining matters of the heart.)

 Ass-fingering as a prelude to relations of the emotional kind: a case study, by neverwere (2k. E. canonverse) 

Fucking hilarious, the imagery is absolutely hilarious. 

"Marry me, he thinks, as he comes around Sakusa's fingers and all over himself.

This. This is exactly why you don't let strangers or very attractive teammates finger you out of the blue.

Everyone knows that the ass is the shortest way to the heart."

Or

When it comes to sex, Atsumu has rules. Guidelines! SOPs! He swears they work, they've always worked.

Until they don't.

 parallax error: angle of inclination, by min_mintobe (10k. T. canonverse)

But now there's the one person Atsumu'd promised himself never to touch. His eyes leave Atsumu breathless with guilt at seventeen, and he spends the next six years safe in the satisfaction of making things right.

Feelings, of the physical kind, and one kiss.

ft. competitive spirit, childishness, and late night conversations.

Atsumu POV.

 autumn ends, but we remain, by wolfsbvne (5k. T. canonverse)

Author says in their ending notes that they're not an ‘author’, but methinks they should write more and pursue that career path because this was wonderful.  

atsumu stares at his ceiling at 2am. he stares until he can make out designs in his popcorn ceiling. a cat there, an onigiri here, and then something that suspiciously looks like a mop of hair, triangle eyebrows, and oh those two bumps are moles right above what atsumu just mapped out as an eye.

(or, atsumu is in kind of in love. sakusa is maybe in like.)

I left a taste in your mouth, by emso (26k. E. bodyguard au)

Because obviously 

Sakusa fixes him with a vague expression of something like distaste. There's a scathing edge to his tone when he speaks. "Contrary to what you seem to believe, not everyone who meets you is instantly dying to get into your pants, Miya."

"Lucky I don't really care right now what 'everyone' wants to do, then." Atsumu swivels his mug around on the tabletop a few times, and then brings it to his mouth to drain the last few dregs of his latte. Over the rim of his mug, he adds casually, "Just you."

Whoa hey Bodyguard Omi, I think Spoiled Rich Kid Tsumu might possibly have a teensy crush on you. 

 How do you know you're in love?, by spiritscript (12k. T. canonverse)

Pure art

“So, how did you know you were in love? How did it feel?” Atsumu felt nervous asking this, a slight wiggling in the pit of his stomach, unable to look at the man beside him who rolled his shoulders in an attempt to reset his posture. “I mean, you didn’t resonate with what I said, so, what is love to you Omi-kun?”

Atsumu thinks he must be in love with Hinata Shouyou and so asks the best person he knows to help him understand his feelings

 san'yo expressway, 6:17 pm, by yamabota (13k. T. canonverse)

Of violent forethoughts, and handheld car vacuums. 

Atsumu tilts his head to watch a slice of orange light bend over the impassive planes of Sakusa’s face. He is absolutely, ruthlessly beautiful. It makes Atsumu want to punch something—put his foot through the windshield—scream, maybe.

Kiss him again, maybe.

They have 344 kilometers to figure this one out. 

Different Kinds of Dysfunctional, by DeathBelle (Series, 5 works. T-E. Canonverse)

Honestly, I think this one is kind of famous amongst Sakuatsu readers but I can’t not include it. If I recall correctly, this is the fic that got me into Sakuastu, so thanks, DeathBelle. The characters are portrayed really well (i.e. Sakusa is disgusted and confused, and Atsumu is a little shit). You’ve got a good balance between conversations and descriptive thoughts and all-in-all it’s just a really good read. 

 Atsumu said into the heavy silence, “You can’t say you’ve never thought about it.”

"Thought about what?" said Sakusa.

Atsumu smiled to himself, smug. "You know."

"No, I don't."

"You know. Of course you’ve thought about it. There’s no reason to be ashamed, Omi-kun. I’m a real catch.”

Sakusa was appalled. "You're disgusting."

"You flatter me. I'm not judging you. I can't lie and say I haven't thought about it, too."

Sakusa shifted, slowly, to peer over his shoulder. He wasn’t scowling, but his expression was unreadable. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Atsumu wasn't joking, and he was about to get more than he bargained for.

i'll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands), by liliapocalypse (7k words. T. canonverse):

Oh, god. This one was so cute. Super fluffy. Loved the metaphors and symbolism. Sometimes you just can’t say things out loud. 

When a bad injury shocks the whole V. League, Sakusa finds himself paired with Atsumu for more rigorous assisted stretches before every training. Atsumu then finds himself writing random letters on Sakusa’s skin to soothe the spiker, forcing Sakusa to reevaluate how his touch aversion became an irresistible yearning for more, and how the boy with the annoying hair somehow brought that hunger to life.

Or, the fic where Atsumu mindlessly writes a confession on Sakusa’s back when he thought Sakusa wasn't paying attention. Sakusa always did.

 mortality is found is the flesh of your sins, by novrik (10k. M. canonverse)

This is literally my favorite fic of all time. Not just of Sakuatsu, not even of the Haikyuu fandom. Ever. Favorite fic ever. Listen, I’m an atheist, but this fic took me on a religious experience that I haven't come down from yet. The symbolism had me actually shivering, and I had to put my phone down quite a few times. Just, oh wow, just read it. I’d like to share my favorite line; ‘And if Sakusa is Eve, if he takes a bite, what then? Perhaps, he is a little afraid of the knowledge he will gain’. My god, author, if you ever see this, this is not only a plea for you to continue writing, but also an offer of marriage. Your hand, author?

 dickhead one, sakusa kiyoomi. dickhead two, miya atsumu. neither understand how to communicate.

Pray tell, why are you drawn to him?

Are you drawn to him in the way he looks beautiful even when crying?

When his eyes are red, shiny tears streaking down, lips quivering, is he beautiful?

 sakuatsu domesticity simulator, by pseudoanalytics (75 words. T. canonverse)

75 words because it's actually a digital art simulator. An interactive fic! How frickin’ cool is that? The art is so beautiful and I love the plotline and ugh, just everything. Please read, or watch, or click around, yes. Good. 

Update: artist created another interactive fic and of course it is wonderful. SunaOsa this time! https://newttxt.itch.io/cheesecake honestly just check out @newttxt their work is amazing and I love everything they do. 

a vaguely interactive mixture of fic, art, and html, where you too can experience the inherent romance of a big fat jerk and a too-blunt jerk attempting intimacy

***

(this is the result of letting the sakuatsu brainworms really get to you...)

 Pas De Deux, by hatsuna (19k words. T. Ballet/college au)

There's just something about prim, proper ballet Sakusa and human-benign-tumor Atsumu that makes my heart burst. Seriously gorgeous writing style, loved every second. By the same author who wrote ‘liminal spaces’ (which is also just perfect) so that should give you a good idea of the style. 

The mystery athlete gives Kiyoomi a once over in the mirror. “Yer pretty tall,” he observes. The twang of an accent rasps low in his throat. His brazen eyes drift to Kiyoomi’s legs, and something like exhilaration glints gold in his gaze. “Good quads, too. Ya ever played volleyball?”

 Ah. So it’s volleyball.

“I’m a dancer. Ballet and contemporary, mostly.”

 the affective presence of our black and white reruns, by kozumess (19k. E. canonverse)

Beautiful, classic misunderstandings, my heart actually physically ached at that one scene (you’ll know the scene when you come to it). Kiyoomi is so refreshingly relaxed(? Is that the right word to use? We all know Omi never truly relaxes). 

but the want, it's always there, constant like the static playing on every television channel, present even when the station disconnects.

 cut the conversation, just open your mouth, by meeksoo (E. 16k. canonverse)

Absolutely filthy...BUT WITH FEELINGS! Completely nails the Sakuatsu dynamic, and protective ‘Tsumu? Love it. 

Sakusa opens the door. He always does.

 They’re teammates first, barely even friends. But they hook up on the regular and it works. It’s simple, easy. But then a fan gets too close, Sakusa reacts, and Atsumu is swept up in how quickly things can get complicated.

__

As Atsumu palms himself over his briefs, still feeling off, he realizes it’s because he still wants it. Him. Sakusa. Even after already having him earlier.

He should probably feel self-conscious, mildly ashamed even, that he’s panting ‘Omi Omi’ into the dark beneath the steady thrum of the AC unit when Sakusa’s right down the hall, probably good for it if Atsumu ended up back at his door. Instead, he lays there, writhing and sweaty, alone in his hotel room bed thinking about Sakusa and touching himself.

Afterward, as cum begins to cool on his chest, Atsumu really can’t help but face the fact that things may be getting complicated.

 the hands that beckon me to come, by Ellieb3an (4k. E. canonverse)

So hot, what the fuck! 

The toss, the run, the spike-serve at the end of it all—Sakusa sees it happen in perfect clarity as if time has slowed and his vision narrows to the center where just Miya exists, all powerful muscle and extraordinary skill and that air of confidence.

Sakusa isn’t one of the best receivers in the league for no reason, so his body moves on muscle memory, forearms absorbing the sting of the hit. It’s not enough. But his eyes are still on Miya—on the way his shorts ride up his muscular thighs as he lands, on the bead of sweat dripping down his forehead, on the clench of his fist thrust into the air—when the ball ricochets out of bounds.

***

Atsumu stays late at practices to work on his new third serve, even when his frustration with it starts throwing off the rest of his game. Sakusa notices and starts hanging back to secretly watch him from the gym doors. He’s fascinated with Atsumu's determination... and more than a little turned on by it, too.

 you're the flame i use (when it gets dark), by starkartifices (55k. M. canonverse. Ongoing)

Everything is the same except the Sakusas are super rich. 

“Oh, if you want dear, you could bring a plus one. Though, I doubt you have a partner yet.”

“I do actually.”

“What was that, dear?”

"I do have a partner, I mean."

alt title: crazy rich sakusas 

 the inherent romance of classical conditioning (or; the fine art of emotional recognition), by pseudoanalytics (13k. E. canonverse)

Ah, yes. A Pavloved sex life. A Pavloved LOVE life?? 

It's stupid. Atsumu isn't a romantic, no matter how many times he's imagined laying Sakusa out and finally really touching him.

So there's no explanation for why Atsumu is constantly stuck thinking about brushing his fingertips against the meat of Sakusa's palms or the prominent tendons in his freaky wrists.

There's no explanation for why doing dishes sets off a warm burn in his ribcage, or why when he smells disinfectant he inhales like he's walking past a bakery.

Yer doin' this to me, he thinks furiously, as Sakusa derails his thoughts with kisses that come more and more frequently now. Yer conditionin' me, and I can't stop it.

 flutterbird (a collection of sakuatsu oneshots), by wordstruck (5 works. T-E. canonverse)

Works 1-3, I think follow a linear story, whereas the last two don't. 

All sakuatsu works are just the angstiest, most miscommunication filled pieces of absolute gold and this one is no exception. Wow. These men are assholes and they bring out the worst in each other, but I’ll be damned if they’re not soulmates. 

Collection of SakuAtsu fics. Several fics are loosely set in the same storyverse. Not necessarily directly connected and can all be read as standalones.

[softly-savage-mint-yoongi]

Heat Seekers I

Genre: Dark Cyberpunk AU Pairing: Chanyeol x f.reader Words: 5k Fic Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. I’m serious people. If any of the chapter warnings are uncomfortable or triggering for you, please do not read this. Do so at your own discretion. Lots of angst and hurt, eventual smut. Chapter Warnings are below the cut. Author’s Note: There are some specific things in this fic that I’ve personally experienced, and some that I have not. Please understand my intention with this fic is a way of healing not just for myself but hopefully for others who unfortunately have experience with these types of situations. I did a lot of debating about whether or not I should even post this fic, and have spoken to a few individuals about it. Ultimately, with the intent of healing and moving past such trauma, it’s been decided OK to post. Please take my warnings seriously.

Chapter Warnings: Metaphoric descriptions of statutory rape. Assault, sexual assault. Gaslighting. Attempted murder. Brief mentions of substance abuse and prostitution. Minor character death.

You always believed there was no such thing as Heaven, but surely there was Hell. Several iterations of the grotesque and horrific afterlife; because humanity is a plague and that is what each of us deserved.

Perhaps in your younger days, you didn’t know it… no, even then you knew. Deep down inside you remember nothing of happiness or blessing. No memories of a person’s presence, actions, or words doing anything considerably good for anyone else. Certainly not without a motive. Certainly not out of empathy.

Before you could walk, throwing yourself into the repetitive ease of programmed machines and technology brought you peace. Technology is predictable and massively accessible to anyone. Technology is your comfort.

Electricity became nearly free and unlimited after the revolution that ended the War on Power in 2045. So long as the sun rose every day, there was never a shortage, and the resulting surge of technological advancements that boomed, as a result, have made most fairly new tech obsolete.

Sustainable, economic, and eco-friendly power became the way of the world. Wind energy became the norm. Buildings were now made from fiberglass solar panels, stronger, taller, and widely available, so every surface collected energy from the sun. Window glass collected heat to use in the winter, eliminating the need for natural gas heat altogether. More room for technology to grow. More surface area on the ground for parks and forests. Resorts built above an ocean’s surface harnessed the energy of the currents moving below their supports. Anything that wasn’t hovering in midair could collect energy from earthquakes and natural disasters alike, as long as humankind was lucky enough to have built something that could capture the energy and withstand the storm. The earth was well on its way to healing by the time you were born in 2051, and although humankind flourished along with it, the world was still a dangerous place. Corporations rose even higher and politics declined, dissolving into a place wrought with criminal activity and fear. Yes, humans were healthier, stronger, lived longer if they were lucky. But was that really such a good thing? Your parent would throw anything she didn’t find valuable at you whenever you locked her out of the apartment, and she was too weak to force her way inside. You were smart enough to know you would be no match in the likely event someone tried to break in, so you had to defend yourself. You wear wary of the men she brought inside, always idly wondering if any of them were your father, but so few of them ever returned.

You don’t remember ever knowing you even had a father before that, unknowing until she told you about sex and what makes a human child when you were four. Not that you’d asked and not that she would care to speak to you when she was anything other than suffocatingly drunk.

In a room that was barely such, the feeble plywood walls held together as if by magic and the curtain strung up as your door sagged so low it only served to be a nuisance to your agenda. Outdated machines and technology stacked high around the walls, most were scrap parts for your projects.

You dedicated every day to sitting in the same spot, surrounded by computers and machines, and learning what makes them function. The finite possibilities, yet the scope of their differences, is something that brought you peace and kept the gears in your own head turning. Sometimes, you would pretend and daydream as if you were an android yourself. You were not lucky enough to be born as one with artificial intelligence.

You attended virtual school whenever you felt like it, or at least you knew the basics. Your parent didn’t care. She nearly pretended like you didn’t exist, which suited you just fine. From the time you were five, she began leaving you alone at home. You knew how to pull the cracked plastic stool over to the counter and get yourself some goldfish crackers or something else simple. You weren’t allowed to use the stove even though you’d repaired it twice, but the microwave was fine.

You knew how to bathe and how to use the restroom and clean up after yourself because you had to. There was nobody else for a long time. Days came and went when you weren’t sure if she would ever come back, only for her to come banging on the squeaky front door or crashing through it slurring her words and waking you from a fitful sleep to wipe at your tear-stained cheeks in the middle of the night. The notion of your tears on her behalf was always something unpredictable and confusing to you. Why would you cry over such insignificance, you sometimes wondered to yourself.

If she stopped coming back one day you would figure it out. The nice man across the street from your apartment building ran a tiny tech store and he always had a smile for you and something that needed fixing. Most days he would ask you math problems as something he called a “lightning round” of questions for an extra quarter for every right answer. Surely the three dollars he gave you for what your fixed every time was enough to put what little food you needed in your stomach.

By the time you were eight, the habits you and your cohabitant fell into became routine. You became accustomed to sleeping during the day while she was out, setting your school live feed on record so you could watch it later. At night, while trying to drown out the sounds of her screaming or sex or shattering bottles, you would work. In the world you knew, the industry wasn’t as slow as it used to be. Too fast-paced for most new phone models to make it past their six-month mark before it was time to stop manufacturing and making capital, moving onto the next one. From what you understood, a new model of home security cameras could go on the market one day and be in the clearance pile before you got your next paycheck. Security tech became your playground after a few years, and you didn’t have enough money to buy anything. It never bothered you that you were always a step behind the latest tech because you had to wait a week until the latest model began showing up in dumpsters. It was never your intention to be faster than that. By the age of ten, you knew your priority was survival and in order to do that, you had to protect yourself with whatever means necessary. You had six different checkpoints in security on your living space not long after you became familiar with it. An additional four security cameras had been installed by your own two small hands around your building as well, at the entrance, elevator, your floor’s hall, and in front of your flimsy front door. All secretly controlled by you, without the knowledge of the outdated model of AI that ran your front desk, passively named Al- born of the building owner’s lack of creativity or care. Probably both.

You spent your days alone, in the tiny, insufferable hole in the wall place called your ‘home’. Where, as the years propelled to 2063 on your twelfth year, you chose to ignore most of the other inhabitants of this world. On a worn-out and broken faux leather armchair, perpetually stuck in the reclining position. Where you sat to work and where you slept and where you held your breath at the groaning sound omitted from its cushions every time you moved. You kept fixing it whenever it would break, dumping you from the side of it with a ‘plunk’ as the bars jumped off their tracks. You scowled every time they snapped the tracks completely. You worked to hone your skills in the world of technology, tinkering and learning every detail of every machine you could get your hands on from the dumpster behind your building. Sometimes if you were lucky, the building owner would forget to pay the trash removal services and it would pile up for weeks. Heaps of smelly trash were a small price to pay if it meant you could hit the jackpot and take several trips up and down the rickety old elevator with your arms full of tech.

Those were your happiest memories. Your body felt like jelly by the time you finished sorting through it all and bringing it up to your stash, carefully removing casings of microcomputers or game cartridges to get to the gold inside.

Everything was fine and although you couldn’t say you were content with your life- you didn’t hate it. You loved the freedom to be left alone and the peace of your tinkering tech. Perhaps a little impatient to grow up, but with every passing year, you celebrated quietly to yourself during the days you had been told your birth date fell. Somewhere between these seven days, you pulled up the same app on every smartphone you had in your possession and ran quickly around your makeshift room trying to blow out twenty digital candles in one big breath- careful not to trip over small piles of tech as you went.

It became a blur after you turned twelve. Somewhere along the timeline not long after that, a man started showing up to the apartment and threw off the balance you had so carefully maintained. You never knew his name, but you remember his face, his cologne, and his voice, and the way his eyes sparkled with something that sank in the pit of your stomach the first time you laid eyes on him. Most of all, even now, you remember him in your restless nightmares and the raw feeling of vindictive rage that in your weakest moments, reminds you that you’re alive, if only by the boiling heat of your blood rushing through your ears. In those moments, when your vision goes fuzzy with the desire to see him suffer and rot miserably in the deepest pits of hell, preferably bleeding and screaming.

You remember him from a time past, standing in the kitchen with your parent, one of her arms curled around his thick neck and the other raised in the air, his fingers closed around her slim wrist. The suit he wore looked expensive, and their bodies were slowly bending over the kitchen table in a strange dance, waiting for her back to snap and flatten against the wooden surface. Their eyes flashed to yours for less than a heartbeat as you walked to the refrigerator, laughing at something that lulled in the silence.

The next time you saw him he had fed your cohabitant something so toxic she passed out on the floor beside the couch. Then he spoke to you. In his deep baritone, he sounded like he smoked too many cigarettes too often. Or drank a bottle of razor blades.

“Pretty little thing ain’t ye?” he asked, dipping his head through the curtain that thinly veiled your world from outside eyes.

You ignored him, choosing to pretend as if the headphones situated on your head were actually producing audio. So he hit you.

Then he hit you again, screaming at you for ignoring him and calling you a bitch, whatever that meant. You heard it slung at your parent enough to know it was derogatory.

You didn’t even scream, you remember. Very clearly you sat shocked, but tears spilled down your cheeks from the pain alone. The heat you felt on your cheek, swelling and rough as if you’d fallen off a motorized bike and gotten road rash on your face.

Your fingers rose and you can recall them vividly, shaking as they reached to touch at your cheek and the hiss of pain as you recoiled from yourself.

Then, you try not to visualize it, but it won’t go away. You remember the feeling of his hand grabbing yours as it froze in midair, yanking you from the protection and warm affection of your old faux leather chair. It growled as he ripped you from its grasp in protest, pulling you so hard the force nearly dislocated your shoulder while he simply tossed you on the floor.

You remember the feeling of his fingers pulling at your clothes and then pain. Extreme pain, so brutal and fast it took your breath away. Your face throbbed as his palm fit perfectly across your whole skull, pushing your head onto the rough wood planks below.

You screamed, but you don’t remember if any sound came out, or if it was just that nobody cared that you did so. You screamed and cried, trying to crawl away as he grabbed at you. There was a ‘whoosh’ feeling as the air was ripped from your lungs when something burning sunk, forcing itself a home of darkness that never should have been between your soul and your corporeal form.

And then nothing.

You remember waking up to the sharp scent of blood, confirming it when you saw it on the floor around you, glistening and wet in the faint glow of computers. You remember the pain that shot between your legs as you tried to sit up properly, groaning as fresh tears worked down your cheeks. The cry that left you rippled pain across your face, too, and you remember crawling yourself over to your beloved chair and leaning against the comfort of its worn fabric as you reached for any of the smartphones you had.

For the first time ever, the brightness of a screen made you flinch back in the darkness. Persevering, you opened the camera and turned it to selfie mode, inspecting your face in the digital reflection. Your right cheek was fat and red, and two purple circles were clearly left in the wake of where his gaudy rings hit your skin. The stain on your skin crept up below your eye.

You made yourself calm down enough to quell the sobs wracking your chest to softer whimpers and tears to help the pain in your cheek stop.

It happened again some unknown weeks later. Your parent so stoned and drunk she passed out blissfully somewhere else and he came to you again. Your begging did you no good, and you were no match for his strength. Why hadn’t you run the moment you could stand on your legs again after the first assault? Why hadn’t you hauled every piece of your tech and saved dime from your bank account or gone to the nice old man across the street for help? Deep down, you knew. You were confident enough to know he would find you and smart enough to know he would kill you when he did.

The second time, you wished you had a gun or a knife. Not just cameras to catch him in the act. Or something that would make him stop and leave you alone. It was just as bad as the first, except this time you didn’t pass out. You did your best to stay still, compliance your only weapon in hoping he goes away that much sooner if you let it be over with. It still hurt just as bad, and he still left you in a puddle of white and red wetness on the floor. The scent of blood made you dizzy.

For the first time in your life, you begged. You begged the adult that raised you and fed you until you could do it yourself. For just once you desperately wished to talk to her and confirm. To make her do something to save you. You were terrified you wouldn’t be able to save yourself, and if this were the last thing she would ever do for you, if it were the last time you would ever see her, you would be grateful if she would just do something to save her daughter.

Hopelessness and an unending free-fall of terror are what you received. You were stronger than she was, and nearly her height by now, with a young healthy body not wrought with substance abuse. You forced her to sit still and keep her eyes open. To keep watching the video even though you couldn’t watch it yourself, barely able to weather the sounds coming from the captured footage.

When it was over, you hadn’t realized you were crying. Your vision blurred when you opened your eyes, with wet cheeks that felt the rush of air as you maneuvered in front of her and gingerly knelt on the floor to beg at her knees. You gathered her hands in her lap, struggling to hold them as you repeated your pleas.

She ignored them, literally shaking and gasping for breath and telling you it wasn’t real. Telling you it never happened. When you forced it upon her and threatened to go to the police with it she pulled your hair and screamed at you. Screamed that you were an idiot and that he would kill you both because didn’t you know who he was? Didn’t you know the power that man held over so many? No, you didn’t.

And it suddenly dawned on you, she was just as scared. She was scared and terrified and unable to grasp any semblance of control over what that man did anymore. She was a fool to think she ever did, and you were a fool to have a sliver of faith in her. So you left to clear your head, much to her cries not to. Born out of anxiety, fearful you would go to the police.

You walked farther than you thought you could as you attempted to regain the strength in your legs. Slowly, and by the time you returned the sun had fully set, but an orange glow caught your attention from the rooftop, one floor above yours. Wisps of smoke, too. Odd, nobody ever went up there.

A single stray cord and a plastic piece of backing laid on the floor between the elevator and your door, and your heart sunk back down all fourteen floors. You were out of breath and the pain between your legs was searing by the time you shoved your way through the metal door to the roof.

Sitting on the ledge was a gaunt, familiar face. She was smoking a cigarette, watching the flames and smoke from three rust-stained barrels. Inside of them was most of your tech. Your cameras, a few handfuls of smartphones, seven computers, gaming consoles, tablets.

You barely remember what happened after that, but you know it was a lot of screaming and a burn when you attempted to kick one of them and stomp out the flames. That day was the catalyst that made you take action, planning to escape from hell. If there was no chance to be saved by someone else, you would have to do it yourself.

Racing the clock on a high of anxiety, you only prayed that for three days he wouldn’t show up. You only needed three days.

On the afternoon of the second day, you hadn’t realized you were alone in the small apartment of your old and outdated building. You were too busy working like lightning to beat an imaginary deadline on your heels. You hadn’t noticed she had left until you came out shortly to use the restroom and find some crackers.

There he was at the kitchen table, the cheap metal legs of the chair bowing under his mass. You froze, watching him in shock and briefly you let your eyes wander around the living room to realize she wasn’t there. His voice was low as he told you she passed out in the elevator hours ago.

The chair made a horrible scuffing sound as he stood up, and you flinched. It didn’t matter once he took your wrist in his grip, and he made you suffer once more.

Something unhinged him this time, and even through the pain and nausea and the attempt to make yourself faint just to not have to live through it, you felt it. Felt the psychotic shift in his brain as he laughed at your pain.

It broke something inside of you. Escape. Do not let him do this to you. Definitely do not give up and let it happen. Retaliate. Fight. Get away. Run. Live.

You barely recall how you came to the conclusion, or how you stomached the grotesque way, when he leaned over your back, you turned your head. How you took the easiest thing to reach- his right ear lobe- between your teeth, and mangled him for all you were worth.

The gratification was immediate as he sprang from you, shoving you forward and holding his head. You remember no pain in that moment, and smiling with adrenaline, breathless but with lungs full of oxygen at the same time. You bolted before he could come back to his senses, grabbing your bag from your chair, thankfully nearly complete, and ran out, fixing your clothing along the way.

He tried to get up fast enough to stop you, lunging for you with one hand as you made it into the hallway, but whatever adrenaline you were on was potent, and your senses were razor sharp. You ducked his hand, hearing him barrel into the wall with his momentum as you made for the elevator.

You watched in slow motion the hopeless rage morph onto his stubbled face, knowing he wouldn’t catch you in time. Letting go of his ear, you saw it maimed, the bottom half missing, an obvious mouth-shaped crest bleeding heavily onto the floor as he reached instead to procure a gun from his jacket.

Although your heart leaped at the sight of it as the metal door creaked open behind you, his hands were messy, and the gun slipped from his bloody grip.

Turning to get on, you hesitated for just a second when you saw her there, passed out in the corner of the elevator. You shoved the button for the lobby as hard as you could, planning to rip the wires from the panel behind Al’s desk the moment it reached the bottom. It would give you enough time to get away as he descended the stairs.

You remember watching her sleep, but an eerie sense of foreboding grew in the intimate space the lower the elevator went, despite the beauty of golden hour cityscape from the window that served as the back wall of the capsule.

It took a few moments for you to realize the sun looked odd against her skin. Her hair didn’t catch the rays, nor did her lips hold the same color or fullness of your own, a feature you had in common. She looked sick.

An unfamiliar emotion welled in you. Some concoction of fear, sadness, and a heavy sense of solitude congealed in your chest and your throat as you crouched beside her quietly, afraid to make a sound.

Hesitantly, you touched her shoulder, immediately recoiling at the unnatural stone of her form, refusing to be pliant under the gentle press of your fingers. Swallowing the bile that rose in your throat, you grasped her shoulders, shaking her. Her body slid further down the wall when you let go. It remained there on the floor in an unnatural and rigid stillness, heavy.

You tripped as you receded backward, falling against the smooth metal of the door. Terror overcame you and a bewildering sense of lonely unknown stood towering before you in your mind’s eye. Not that you expected to ever see her again. Not that you expected to care, you hated her. But you hadn’t wanted her to die.

“Mom,” you remember choking up her title in reverence, the one and only time in your life you’d ever said the word.

You groaned with pain, suddenly powerless without the adrenaline that was just coursing through your veins. Everything hurt. Your vision, your head, your body, your heart. You were going to throw up. But you’d be damned if you did it before you escaped. You were so close. Just a little further.

Your mouth watered with the impending expulsion of your gut, but you managed to fall backward out of the elevator and stumble to your feet, feeling heavy as you trudged past Al’s inquiry of your health to the panel, ripping every wire out with your fist.

Just once you threw up beside the revolving door of your building before entering. You staggered through it after, feeling a rush of fresh air that told your very soul it was over.

You did it. Now you just had to make sure you survived, but you were good at that.

_________________

April, 2072

You pursed your lips, scowling at the bitter, sour flavor of the lollipop settled on your tongue. Leaning to the right, you lifted your hand from the grip of your bars, reaching through the thickness of your helmet through the open visor and whipping the candy from your mouth with a grimace.

You slowed, unable to afford a littering fine if you just threw it to the wind behind you, even though you wanted to rebel in that way. Too many high-tech cameras on the city streets to get away with anything unless you had the money to pay off the cops.

Which, unfortunately, you didn’t.

Twisting forward to squeeze the brake, you let your bike lull into a quiet purr as you pull off onto a quiet road, looking for the correct receptacle. You let it crawl forward, along the curb, and over a storm drain so you can lean over and drop the candy into the trash. For a moment, you lick your lips, pulling your backpack around to rummage through the bag of lollies inside for a better flavor.

While you search for a strawberry- your favorite- you weigh the pros and cons of just buying a bag of strawberry flavor instead of the assortment. Price, for starters, you scoff to yourself, remembering to pluck the sour apple wrapper from your pocket to toss into the trash. Exclusive flavor bags are more expensive, but you don’t waste as much by throwing out every god damned green apple you pluck from the bag.

Frowning when you come up empty-handed, you take the second-best choice, unwrapping the dark red of a cherry lolly when a presence catches your attention. A man, tall and thin, clothed in dark colors standing still against the bustle of the city. There’s a black baseball cap on his head, pressed down over dark red curls that peek out at the edges.

He’s wearing square, dark-tinted sunglasses that block out his eyes, with ears that bow out from his skull, and you briefly register that he’s built the same all around, in large proportions, from his hands to his face to his towering height.

Even in the late afternoon, his visage glows with artificial color as he basks in the light of a large television displayed in the storefront window. Although his attire tells you he’s trying to conceal his identity, he doesn’t seem to stick out, going ultimately unnoticed by the people passing by him.

His face is turned towards the television as a news channel covers a fire at a large corporate building from last night. It shows impressive plumes of flame and thick smoke, even darker than the night sky, glowing faintly with billions of lights.

The man watching the television bounces a short stick between his teeth, but you can’t tell what it is from this distance. You notice his face moves, the apples of his cheeks rising high as he smiles wide, easily a head above the crowd.

The sound of sirens from the recording of the fire dins away to the sound of an audio clip taken from a phone call. A man’s voice, clearly distorted with an autotune. Raspy, dark laughter, and a bitter promise to chase someone to hell.

A small part of you is smug, rooting for the villain even, and his vicious words to whomever the message are, or was, intended.

The sun is starting to set, and you hate having to watch the skyline glitter with the golden light as you drive on. It’s an unwanted and unnecessary memory, unforgiving in the distance of your timeline.

Luckily, you enter the undercity just as the light grows intense, escaping into the sleepless neon of your world. Into the black market and the tech industry, rife with people who thrive on a never-ending night, as if their veins are made of glass and filled with inert gases to make them glow just as brightly as the buildings here.

You’ve got a lead from a friend of sorts. Someone who you’ve got a history with from your days at the bordello, and who kept you alive once upon a time when you first came to the undercity, terrified but determined to forget yourself and be born as someone stronger, smarter, better.

He’s never given you bad intel before, so long as you could get to it before a clan or a faster loaner. Luckily, you have a natural gift for hacking and the latest model of ‘unhackable’ Hyperbikes are no exception to your deft fingers.

You pull up outside Blue House, scanning the digital bulletin for the job he mentioned. You press your finger to it, holding your breath for the marquee to inform you whether it’s still up for grabs, or if it is unfortunately for you- in progress.

A smile cracks your lips when the green light pops up, and you whip your glove off when the prompter asks to scan your left thumb. A second passes as the soft blue light moves across your finger, chirping in confirmation when it’s done.

You don’t even care what the job is- but Chan promised it would be something you could do. All you remember is hearing a payment sum that could put good food in your stomach for a month straight. The only question you had was why a tech hacking job was showing up on a brothel’s bulletin board.

Ultimately, what was one more undercover prostitution job? You were familiar with the work that came through the bordello, and its basic services. In the last two years, you’ve moved away from it little by little, having made some waves with your work as a hacker in the undercity. Your moniker started to be whispered across the shadows as the underdog, a  genius ‘for the people’ hacker that put bad men where they belonged. Only Chan knew you by two names. The rest of the world only knew one.

The name Maneater.

[dreamescapeswriting]

The Palace Gardens ~ MYG [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 5K

↬↬↬Genre: Fluffy

↬↬↬Pairing: Prince!Yoongi X Reader

↬↬↬A/n: I hope this okay for you love! @cutegyrl927

The sun was shining down on the palace Roses beautifully so you took your sketchpad out that morning and made your way through the maze in the main garden to sketch some of the flowers. It was Sunday meaning it was your day off from working and you could do whatever you wanted within the palace quarters and you were doing something legal. You had been working in the palace since you were 4 years old and your mum took you to work with her you even continued after she passed away. It was the only good paying job in the Kingdom and it had many benefits to working there, a roof over your head, meals, health care and being able to stay there safe instead of out in the Kingdom where you could be killed by thugs any moment.

The King and Queen were some of the meanest people you'd come into contact with and you didn't even want to think about their son - Prince Yoongi - one of the most big-headed people you'd ever met. He thought he was better than everybody he came into contact with which was only partially true. Sure he was a Prince and he was better than you but he thought he was better than everybody including his parents, other people from other Kingdoms. Not to mention he thought he was God's gift to women and thought that everyone should love him and if they didn't they were clearly wrong and would show them how wrong they were.

"Y/n! Just the person," You looked up from the sketch of the rose you were doing to see the court Lady standing there, she was out of breath and holding her stomach as she tried to steady her breathing.

"Mina quit," You stared at her wondering why she was telling you that but then it came to you, you were Mina's replacement if anything happened to her which wouldn't be a big deal only...Mina was the head servant for Yoongi and his room. She was in charge of him and him alone, making sure he was up in time for appointments, drawing him baths, cleaning his room, serving his food...Everything.

"No." You said snapping the sketchbook closed, there go your Sundays. The chambermaid that was to serve Yoongi was to always be ready for him, day or night. No matter the time you were to serve whatever the Prince may need.

"You have to, you took that job-"

"Thinking she would never quit, she was one of the toughest you have." The court lady shrugged her shoulders at you, she didn't care if you didn't like the job it was now your job. If you didn't like it you would have to quit and become homeless and jobless all in one.

"Think of it this way, you get an upgrade." You stared at the side of her face as you made your way out of the maze together. The job upgrade was a new room and a new uniform. Going from the Hanboks all the maids wore to a goddess-like gown that the chambermaids were. It was a simple white gown with the colour of whoever you were serving sewn into the front, for the King and Queen the chambermaids had gold sewn into the mid-section of the dress and for Yoongi you would have black sewn around the mid-section.

"I'm sure you're aware of the duties you have to him." She mumbled as you both walked up the steps into the palace, greeting the guards with a bow and heading up the stone flooring towards your new chambers. It was just opposite Yoongi's in case he needed something in the middle of the night and had to wake you up.

"Yes Ma'am," She nodded and unlocked the door, your room was cleaned and fresh dresses were hung up in the wardrobe behind a changing screen. It wasn't huge but it was better than the room you had before.

"I'll have one of the girls bring your things up later." You nodded, all you had back in the other room was some more drawing equipment - not that you would need it anymore. No more time to yourself, goodbye relaxing Sundays and hello bossy Prince Yoongi.

"He's in training with the palace Guard so you have some time to drawer his bath and clean his room."

His room was a state, clothes were thrown around the floor. The silk bed sheets were on the floor and he had pieces of paper and paints all over the place. You never knew he painted but he was good from what you'd seen in his room so far, there was a recent one drying by the window, it was the palace gardens are night. Stars chartered perfectly on the black sky and it looked amazing not that you would ever tell Yoongi that - you couldn't even if you wanted to. Chambermaids were to be seen and not heard. You groaned bending down and picking up his dirty clothes, you threw them into the basket by the bedroom door and started there. It was easier to start with the clothes than to make the bed and then the clothes. He had fresh sheets to go on anyway. Humming to one of the palace songs you began cleaning up the bedroom, being careful not to put anything out of place. You didn't want Yoongi to fire you on your first day there.

The bath was run to the perfect temperature along with the expensive bubbles you knew the Prince liked - he'd had them imported from another part of the Kingdom especially for his baths.

"The new maid?" You turned to see him standing there in the door, drenched in sweat from his training and wearing his metal armour, you bowed to him and went to leave but he cleared his throat to signal you to stop.

"I want to take a look at you." You stood up straight and kept your eyes trained to the floor, he hated eye contact. You'd heard the stories from chambermaids before you and you were going to do everything you could to not get fired.

"What's your name Kitten?" Your stomach flipped at the nickname and he tilted your head up by your chin so he could look at you, he smiled as you locked eyes for a second only to glance away when you'd stared at him too long. He was going to have a lot of fun with you if you were this timid to be around him.

"Y/n." You answered keeping your gaze back on the floor and he hummed shaking his head,

"I'll call you Kitten, it just rolls off the tongue better." You nodded knowing better than to talk back to him and besides...The nickname was kind of cute and made you feel a kind of way you'd never felt before.

"I'll have dinner in two hours please, I won't be eating in the grand hall and I want you to join me. Might as well get to know you since we're going to be stuck together for a while." You nodded and backed out of the room to go and tell the kitchen workers what was happening. You were confused by what he meant by stuck together for a while he would normally fire anybody within a matter of weeks if they didn't quit first. Mina had been the only one to stick around longer than the usual girls.

"He's asking you to eat with him?!" Jisoo asked she was one of the main chefs in the Palace Kitchen. She'd asked to be his chambermaid before you but was turned down since she was needed more in the kitchens than his room,

"I didn't do anything wrong. I did the right thing and he just asked-"

"Probably going to ask you to sleep with him, he's nothing but a man whore." She scoffed at you turning her back on you and going back to cooking the dinner you were going to be eating later. You made a mental note to check the food before you took it to Yoongi if she was going to be this mad over practically nothing.

"What did you do before you joined the castle?" Your eyes widened as Yoongi asked you a question that wasn't about him, you'd heard stories of him being nothing but selfish and yet here he was asking you about your life, you cleared your throat and poured him his wine to go with his food.

"Nothing, I've been working here since I could walk." He stared at you and frowned as he rose the cup to his lips taking a drink. He'd never seen you around the palace before and he was sure he would have remembered seeing your face around there before.

"You're sure?" You giggled a little,

"Since I was four, my mother brought me in. I worked in the gardens when I was 10 and then I made my way to the chambermaid." He nodded along as you spoke, you didn't mention anything else. No personal history or what you did with your free time and yet he found himself interested in wanting to know you more. There was something that drew you into him.

"What else do you do?"

"Freetime?" You questioned, you hadn't touched your food. You weren't allowed to eat until he did and you were starving. You hadn't eaten since the night before and you didn't want to break the rules so you ignored the hunger in your stomach,

"I draw sometimes, mostly in the palace gardens." He put his cup down and began eating the food that had been made for him,

"I paint. I'm sure you saw when you were clearing up earlier. Thank you for that by the way." A frown formed on your head and he could tell you were confused and it was just how he wanted it. Everyone outside of the room thought he was the evil Prince that hated everyone but it was far from the truth. He would tell the maids to tell each other that, he didn't want to be seen as soft and it annoyed his parents to see so many maids fear him.

"No problem Sir, it's my duties." He chuckled, he loved how innocent you were with him.

"You'll have to show me your sketches sometime since you've seen my work." You nodded and he went back to questioning you on other things.

"Why do you want to know so much? Not that I'm trying to disrespect you, it's just you mentioned we'd be stuck together for a while and I'm wondering-"

"I'm not allowed to fire any more maids, I have to make you comfortable and want to stay here. So we're going to be stuck, I figured instead of making it worse for both of us to make it easier...Besides, I'm not as mean as I make out." He went on to explain what he had done with the other maids, an exchange was made. He would let them stay for as long as it took him to get the money together for them to leave and go and live somewhere else as long as they didn't tell anyone and made out that he was the worst person in the world.

"Why would you do that?" You asked it was amusing to know that he wasn't as mean and self-centred as originally thought. He shrugged his shoulders at you, he'd never had a real reason except for annoying his parents,

"Annoys my mum and dad and besides, being Prince isn't everything it's cracked out to be." You hummed and he went on to explain that he didn't want to train all the time or go to royal meals. He wanted to paint and find someone to love,

"You'll find someone-"

"Someone my parents approve of, someone they set me up with. I want true love, you know?" You shook your head at him, being totally open with him was easy. It felt like you'd been friends with him for years rather than him being a Prince.

"I've never been in love, I've lived my whole life in this palace." You motioned around to the room and he sighed leaning back in his chair and shaking his head.

"Where do you want to go?" You stared at him with a raised eyebrow,

"I don't know anywhere but here. Where do you want to go?" You could tell he had an itch to travel somewhere far and wide and he smiled at you jumping up and going over to a bookshelf. He pulled down a leather bond book and brought it over to you. He turned the pages until he hit one, France was written across the top and it was filled with photographs.

"Whoa." He chuckled at you as you stared at them beautiful far off places with many things to see or do there.

"I wanted to travel everywhere, take someone with me but it'll never happen while I'm stuck here." You nodded along with him and watched as the smile dropped from his face, he handed you the book and watched as you flicked through the pages. Your eyes lightening up whenever you saw something you particularly liked, it made his heart flutter seeing you so excited about something.

"You should rest kitten, I want to go to the gardens tomorrow and I want you to come with me. I'll need some help carrying my painting equipment. You should bring your sketch pad." You nodded at him going to give him the book back but he shook his head,

"Keep it." You placed it onto the table and began to pack everything up, the half-eaten food was still on your plates but you were full and couldn't eat another bite if you tried.

"Goodnight Yoongi." You placed the book on top of an empty cup to stop yourself from spilling something onto it or dropping it on the floor it was far too expensive for that.

"Look! Little Y/n got a present!" Minho cooed as you walked into the kitchen, he was one of the other chefs within the Palace and hated you just like Jisoo did.

"It's nothing!" You said as you tried to get the book from his hands but he held it up high so you couldn't reach it, he flicked through the pages and scoffed.

"As if you could ever go to these places!" He threw the book to Jihop who started to flick through the pages while you stormed towards her,

"Where did you even get this?! You couldn't even afford a trip to town." She squealed and just as you reached her to get the book back she dropped it into the sink filled with water and faked a gasped.

"Whoops. Oh no." They both laughed leaving the kitchen while you took the book from the water staring at the soggy pages, it was useless now. You had to find a way to dry it out before Yoongi ever found out that it was damaged. You rushed back to your room to try and find a way to dry out the pages but it was long gone. Nothing could save it from returning back to his original shape now it had taken a soak in the water.

A couple of weeks had passed and you'd managed to keep the book from Yoongi, coming up with excuses as to why you hadn't given it back - excuses like you were still reading it, you'd forgotten to bring it and that you wanted to re-read all of it again. You'd grown closer to the Prince, spending a lot of your time in his room with him while he painted, he requested you stay there and draw while he painted. Claiming it made him calmer to have you sit there while he did so but he would never show you anything he'd been working on. Whenever you couldn't draw you'd switch to reading something from his collection of books, switching between classic love stories he had and horrors that were among them all. That day you'd been reading Wuthering Heights and he'd insisted you take it with you, you hadn't been able to put it down since opening it but you told him you couldn't. It would be too much for you to take it and you could just read it tomorrow when you came to clean up for him.

"It's a date." He laughed looking at your shocked expression as you walked to the door he was serious about it being a date but you thought he was joking.

"See you tomorrow your Highness," Your hand touched the door handle and he shook his head at you, placing his hand over yours and turning you to face it.

"I mean it. It's a date. No more, your highness or Sir...Call me Yoongi." You stared at him with a blank expression, you'd grown close and sure you got butterflies whenever he would touch you or speak to you and your heart would skip a beat when he called you by your real name.

"You're not allowed to date the help-"

"Who says?" He questioned, he was a little hurt that you weren't jumping up at the chance to date him but he understood that it wasn't that simple.

"The palace rules...Your parents," He smirked leaning down to your face, you were inches away from one another. Your heart thumping against your chest as he stood that close to you.

"When have I ever done what my parents wanted me too." With that he moved closer and pressed his lips against yours, at first you stood there frozen but your eyes fluttered shut and although you'd never kissed anyone before your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer to you. The kiss was sweet and loving as he wrapped his arm around your waist while the other cupped your cheek, running his thumb along your skin as he pulled away.

"See you tomorrow."

Shutting the door behind you you smiled to yourself until you saw Minho watching you from down the hall, Jisoo and more palace maids by his side all of them watching you.

"You're a tramp." He said as he walked closer to you, you tried to rush into your room but you'd gotten into the habit of locking it after one of them had placed a mouse in your room one night.

"Leave me alone Minho, I've done nothing wrong." You rushed to get the keys from your pocket but you were moving to fast you dropped them onto the floor, Jihoo was with him staring down at you as you picked up the key from the floor. She pressed her foot down onto your fingers and glared at you.

"That job was supposed to be mine, I'm going to make your life hell right until you quit." You whimpered trying to get your fingers out from under her foot but she only applied more pressure.

"What are you doing?" Minho and Jihoo jumped away from you and you held back the tears as you held your hand in your other one trying to pick up the key and get out of sight before you could hear them being yelled at.

"She stole something from your room, we were making sure she'd returned it." Jihoo lied, you looked at Yoongi who locked eyes with you before turning to Jihoo.

"What did she steal?"

"A book, I saw it too your highness," Minho added and you looked at the floor as you realised they meant the travel book.

"I'll take it back, Y/n. Let me into your chambers to see this stolen book." Minho and Jihoo walked away laughing to one another as they did so, the hard facade that Yoongi had put on faded as he walked into your room.

"You okay?" He went to take your hand in his but you walked away from him going to get the book back for him,

"Here. They ruined it when I got it and I've been trying to fix it since." He stared at the book before throwing it onto your bed, he didn't care about that. He cared about you being okay but you were being calm and weird around him.

"My hand is fine Sir. You should go to bed, you have training tomorrow." You reminded him and he frowned shaking his head as you used Sir for him when you'd spoken about that before.

"I told you I want you to call me Yoongi," His hand was on your cheek and you let the tears roll down your face as he came into contact with you.

"What's wrong?!" He panicked as you dropped down onto your knees in front of him, he sat beside you and brought you into his chest wanting to hold you and comfort you in any way that he could but as you tried to speak it came out as a sob.

"We can't date." You stuttered out pushing away from him and pointing over at the door,

"That's all I'll get. Abuse from them and many others if anyone found out. I should quit-"

"No, you shouldn't." You shook your head at him, you knew you should have quit. It would be easier than falling in love with someone that could never love you back.

"We can't- I can't." You told him as you stood up from the floor brushing off your legs. You'd already found yourself falling for him the moment you'd walked into his room that first night and when he kissed you everything fell into place but it wasn't supposed to be like that. You were supposed to be the maid, nothing but a maid.

"Why? Give me one reason why." You stared at him,

"You can never love me, look at me-"

"I do. Everyday," He took your hand and dragged you across the hall to his room, he walked you into his wardrobe and pointed at all of the paintings that were lit up by candlelight.

"Yoongi what-" Each canvas as a painting of you, sitting and reading in a couple of them and a few were of you sketching in his chair in his room.

"This is what I see every day, someone I've been in love with for a while, someone who I want to spend my life with." You turned to him looking into his eyes to search for any hint of a lie but there was nothing, it was all true and he needed you to see it.

"I love you." He mumbled taking your hand in his and bringing it up to his lips so he could place a small kiss on it,

"I love you too." You whispered scared what all of this meant for your future at the castle but right now that wasn't important, what was important was Yoongi and you spending time together. He kissed you lovingly once again and pulled you closer to his body as you made out in the middle of his wardrobe.

It wasn't easy news for the Kingdom to digest when Yoongi announced your engagements and it hadn't gone down well with his parents either but Yoongi insisted that he was going to marry you. You'd managed to hide your relationship for six months when he decided that there was no one else out there for him, it was you and you alone for him and you felt the same way. No one could ever replace Yoongi in your heart. The announcement was made and you were being moved into a bigger room within the Palace since you were going to be Royalty once the wedding went ahead. The maids hadn't taken to it greatly since Yoongi then requested for a male maid for his room, someone new that hadn't worked there before and someone who could be trusted not to poison you. Though you'd taken to making your own food or going to get something from the markets instead of eating something that Jihoo or Minho had prepared.

"What is it that you can give to our son to make you worthy?" You choked back on the drink of water you'd gotten and Yoongi ran his hand over your thigh trying to comfort you, you knew it was going to be a tough meal since it was with his parents, grandparents and another king and queen from another Kingdom. The Kingdom who was originally supposed to set up a date between Yoongi and their Princess. Princess Sana, she was perfect in every way possible from her red curled locks to her perfectly slim shapes. She was gorgeous.

"Princess Sana could have brought in land and royal guards...What do you bring?" His mother asked sipping on her wine and staring at you, they'd made it clear that they disliked you from the start and you told Yoongi you didn't want to do this tonight.

"She brings him, love, she brings him happiness what more could you want for your son?" His grandfather yelled slamming his walking stick against the floor and staring at his daughter, he turned to look at you and Yoongi sitting together.

"She seems to forget that her husband was nothing but a royal Guard when they were children-"

"Still of royalty, he wasn't a maid!" That was stung as she spoke about you as though you were nothing, you'd gotten it before now from her but this time it was in front of people. People who could have made Yoongi's life better for him,

"She's right Yoongi," You whispered and he squeezed your hand,

"No. She's not." You were both so quiet no one had noticed the conversation happening between you both.

"I can't bring you anything, money, land, I can't-"

"You bring me joy and love, that's enough for me." You shook your head tears welling up in your eyes as you felt Princess Sana staring you down from across the table.

"Excuse me." You got up and left the room at once, not wanting to stay there any longer than you had to. It was too much, all of them speaking down to you as though you were nothing but something that had stepped in, it made your heartache as you thought about leaving Yoongi and letting him marry for the land and everything Sana could give him but it was what was best. It was clear no one was going to allow this wedding to continue.

"Y/n?" You wiped your face of the tears as you heard a female voice calling out for you, you stood up and bowed to Sana as she came into the middle of the maze where you'd run off to.

"Yoongi said you'd be here." She laughed softly, even her laugh was perfect just like the rest of her.

"You don't have to bow to me," You sat back down on the concrete bench and stared at the roses in front of you, she sat down next to you in silence. Neither of you spoke for a couple of minutes until she broke the silence,

"You're doing me a huge favour by the way. My parents would never admit it but Marrying Yoongi would have made me miserable," You turned to look at her,

"Not that he's not great. He is it's just...I'm in love with one of our royal guards and now that Yoongi is spoken for. I can marry for love instead of power." You smiled at her and she rubbing your hands comfortingly.

"You shouldn't let them tear you down, they're doing it to get a rise out of you. To make you leave him. If you love him make sure you stay." You stared at her as she spoke to you, giving you real advice and helping you realise that you and Yoongi were meant to be together.

"I should go and see him, he's probably being harassed by his mum." You both stood up from the bench and walked out of the maze together, engaging in conversation about the royal guard she was in love with back home and how he'd won her heart.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked as you stood in front of the arch in the palace gardens,

"Aren't you asking this a little too late?" You questioned with a small laugh as you stared up at him, he was holding your hand as you waited for everyone behind you to sit down.

"Not if you're not sure." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, you were standing in front of a priest and getting ready to marry him in front of everyone despite the fact that his parents didn't want this. He made it clear he was going to marry you with or without their blessing he didn't care that they disapproved because he was hopelessly in love with you and was going to be that way for the rest of his life.

"I've never been so sure about something in my life." You whispered to him right as the vicar began to speak out to everyone and you and Yoongi. You locked eyes with one another and the ceremony began, making you his wife and the future queen.

"If anyone has a reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace." Everyone stayed silent as you and Yoongi stood together - his grandparents made it clear to their daughter and son in law that Yoongi was to marry whoever he wanted and that he had their blessing and didn't need anyone else. Now here getting married in your favourite place with your favourite person in the entire world with the blessing of his grandparents as well as his blessing since he'd told you that was all that mattered to him.

A/N: I hope you liked it hun and it was something like you imagined xx

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies​ @snowy-meowl​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @lynnthevirgo​ @fan-ati--c​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @callingmyangel​ @rjsmochii​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​

[writeblrfantasy]

i am thrilled to present to you another short from acogs: khyris mi'hail, or khyris the beloved in my conlang!

i'm especially happy with this one, but i say that about all of them, don't I? this one is inspired by the story behind the hanging gardens of babylon, how the king had them built for his homesick wife.

like most of my shorts, you don't need to know acogs to understand this <3 enjoy!! word count about 5k

~

“Everybody wake up, c’mon, everybody up!” The sound of pans banging together accompanies Major Malika’s shouts.

Khyris has been awake for an hour already, but he still groans at the thought of leaving his warm cot. The other corporals in the tent with him grumble and swear at the major with more colorful language than Khyris would dare risk.

Khyris sticks his head out of his blankets, bracing against the freezing winter air and squinting into the bright morning light of the tent. A few bastards who wake with the sun are sitting on the floor drinking coffee, the smell of which finally draws Khyris out of his warm cave.

“We were afraid you were dead,” says Eric, mumbling like he’s half dead himself. “You don’t move at all.”

“Nice to know you’re watching me sleep,” Khyris retorts, pulling on his three extra layers to fight back the biting chill. “Give me some of that.” Coffee in his system makes him feel a little more human, enough to make him realize there’s a group huddled around the morning campfire just outside.

Khyris joins them, coffee in hand, and finds them all staring at a map. “What’s going on?”

“Big news today,” Aeron says, grinning, full of energy no matter the time. “The queen’s visiting.”

Khyris almost spills his coffee. “What? Why? That man couldn’t lift a sword to save his life, what does he want with us?”

“Stow your hatred for a moment, my dear Khyris. He’s here to pick a spouse.”

Khyris stares, then laughs. “For a moment I thought you were serious.”

The other’s smiles slowly fade. Delia stares into her coffee like it holds the answers of the world—or more accurately, an escape from Khyris.

“You are serious. Sweet Cai.” Khyris buries his head in his hands. “Explain.”

“He’s here exactly because he can’t lift a sword to save his life. He wants someone who can. Solid strategy, I think.”

Khyris shakes his head. “He has hundreds of willing options back at court, the experienced soldiers paid too well to be out on the field. Why doesn’t he pick from them and leave us alone?”

“He doesn’t want a lazy court soldier. He wants a fieldman. Someone he knows he can trust with his life.”

“So he wants a bodyguard for a spouse, is what you’re saying. I thought he already had a team of those.” Khyris looks around. “Do you think Major Malika would notice if I disappeared for a week or two? Tell her I was indisposed. I was longing for home. Let me be a deserter, anything but having to see that bastard’s face.”

“Why are you so against him?” Aeron asks.

“Because he doesn’t give a damn about any of us. He just throws money at us, gives us more orders to build more cities, and every year checks in to see how we’re doing. He’d rather entertain the fools and artists of his court than pay mind to us.”

“So you don’t want to see him, but you’re mad he hasn’t come yet? Make up your mind, man!”

Khyris sighs. “I just don’t think you all should be kissing his ass, is all. He should be appreciating what we do for him. We just finished building him al-Hasa, he should be grateful.”

“We’re not kissing—” Aeron breaks off into a devious grin Khyris has seen before, and it’s never ended anywhere good. “You like him, and you’re mad he doesn’t like you back?”

Whistles and laughter go around the fire. “What?” Khyris sputters. “This is the queen we’re talking about, not some barmaid. You lot are ridiculous.”

Apparently happy with being labeled ridiculous, what Khyris thought were friends begin singing, “Khyris the Angrily Smitten” in an off key parody of a song he can’t remember.

“You sound like you’re drunk and it’s only sunrise,” he says in disgust, burying himself in coffee, his only friend this morning.

Later that day, he’s in the middle of a group training session and managed to forget about the queen’s newest joke. The stress of the major’s shouts during exercises in the middle of winter doesn’t leave much room for Khyris to think about anything else, though Aeron finds a way around it as always. Aeron’s only here to support his family’s farm—cooperation doesn’t matter much to him as long as he still gets paid.

In the middle of another round of hot yet cold push-ups, Major Malika calls for a sudden stop. “His Majesty is here,” she snaps. “I want to see some salutes, hear some respect. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Major,” they chorus, lining up to watch His Majesty Amoun’s brown and gold carriage pull up to the campsite. Khyris’ left hand goes to the side of his head like all the others, trying to keep his eyes in line as the carriage stops in a cloud of dust. The door opens with a click, and out steps a shadow cloaked in black, unusual for Kadar. Khyris’ eyes drift despite himself.

Khyris forgot how young the queen is, and how attractive, despite his own dissenting opinions. A dark, neat sheaf of hair and mustache frame a smiling face. His long winter cloak shows hints of Kadar yellow in ribbons and pins, but otherwise everything from the fur to his shoes is black.

“Welcome, Your Majesty,” Malika says with a deep bow.

“Thank you, Major. I’m delighted to be here.” Queen Amoun approaches the line of soldiers with his coat sweeping out behind him, just short enough not to get dirty on the sand. The soldiers drop their salutes as Amoun slowly walks in front of them like he’s inspecting them. Khyris fights not to close his eyes and disappear into a safer, less ridiculous world. He has many choice words for the queen, but keeps them all wisely to himself.

Amount is just passing Aeron and Delia, about to pass a stiff Khyris, when he stops and looks him up and down. “What’s your name?” Amoun asks.

Khyris swallows, cursing Cai in every way. He can feel Aeron’s traitorous, poorly smothered grin on his profile. “Khyris, Your Majesty.”

“Khyris,” Amoun repeats, slowly, like the sly tongue of a snake. He grins. “What a beautiful name.”

What to say to that?

Amoun solves the problem for him. “I look forward to seeing your face during my trials, Khyris.”

Khyris’ mind races, thinking of the Cairic Trials of Taru. They are Kadars, dammit, not Cairic. But, if the queen wanted to find a spouse who could defend him, there is not a much better way than that. “Trials, Your Majesty?”

Amoun laughs, a gentle, warm sound. “Wipe that fear off your face. I am not referring to the Trials of Taru, as thrilling and testing as they are. The trials I have created are much simpler, and will be much more to your taste, if that quiver on your back means anything.” He takes a step back so more soldiers can hear him.

“I wish we had a forest to do this, but alas, we are not in the north or in Tel Cairis. As you can see, there are three targets there.” Amoun gestures grandly to the three red targets being set up several hundred paces away, in the middle of the desert. “Whoever can perfectly hit the three targets”—he pauses for effect— “will get a private dinner with me.”

Khyris struggles not to laugh.

“The trials begin immediately, for all of you,” Amoun says. “You are soldiers, I’m sure you’re used to quick thinking and quicker requests. Come on, now.”

Khyris shuffles into a single file line with the others, Aeron at his back. “Not a word,” he hisses.

“Not a word,” Aeron echoes, but Khyris can hear his grin. Worst of all, he begins humming that awful song, Khyris the Angrily Smitten. He actively wishes for death even as he’s pulling his bow off his back and nocking an arrow into it.

Fail Amoun’s stupid target challenge. The easiest task in the world. He’ll be officially taken out of consideration, free to go back to the idiots at the campfire in the morning.

His focus drifts in and out while waiting for the other soldiers to shoot, even if they’ve never touched a bow before. Evidently Amoun believes miracles are possible. He seems like the type.

Amoun stands to the side of the line drawn in the sand where the archers must stay and shoot, his presence undoubtedly helping no one. Ever since he was a child, Khyris couldn’t stand people watching him practice or hunt. He savored the quiet of the northern forests where he grew up, savored the peace and focus in his heart while he hunted his family’s dinner. To have anyone else watching him, waiting, judging if he shot wrong, would ruin that sacred peace.

He sighs and shifts his weight impatiently.

“Relax, would you? You’re the best archer here, I have more reason for nerves than you do,” Delia says from somewhere behind him.

“That’s exactly the problem,” Khyris says. “I’m afraid I’ll do well.”

Someone scoffs ahead of him. He doesn’t keep his dislike of the queen private, but the way Amoun looks back toward the sound makes Khyris flush. Please don’t notice me, don’t notice me, look away.

“Then miss and make a fool of yourself,” Delia says. “You’ll be known as the army’s best worst archer, but not the queen’s spouse, a title I wouldn’t mind having. It’ll be a steady source of income for my family, at least.”

Khyris smiles. He and Delia became friends because of their similar situation. Aeron barged his way into their lives with no possibility of leaving. “I’ll be in the front row at your wedding.”

“I’d prefer your blessing on my bow.”

Khyris watches sorry swordsman after swordsman point their bows at the targets only for their arrows to land somewhere far off in another direction. Major Malika barks at them that they’ve failed, which is not an unusual thing for her to say, but they’ve never had to perform in front of the queen before.

People who have never touched a bow in their life still stutter and apologize for wildly missing. That’s the effect the queen’s presence has—not that it affects Khyris, of course. He glances sympathetically at the losers and thinks, I’ll be joining you in a minute.

At last, it’s his turn. Major Malika orders him forward with her usual grit, but Amoun is smiling with his big brown eyes and it’s every bit as unnerving as Khyris predicted.

“Let’s see what you got,” he says quietly, where only Khyris can hear. Khyris grits his teeth, mentally ordering him to shut up and let him focus.

Why is he trying?

Because it’d kill him to miss, he decides. He hasn’t missed since he was eleven, and he won’t start now. He has too much pride in his finest skill to be a laughingstock. Major Malika would know he wasn’t trying and would make him try again. He’s too good an archer for his own good.

He closes his eyes, trying to ignore Amoun’s presence, and lets the bow do the work.

The first arrow hits. He doesn’t stop to check. His focus is on the second target, and a minute shift of his position readies him for the next shot. Khyris disregards all other sound but the grip of his fingers adjusting on the bow, the whoosh as the arrow flies free. He can’t quite block out the gasp Amoun makes, but shaking it off is easy.

The wind begins picking up just slightly, hardly noticeable to anyone else, but Khyris knows the song of the bow like his own skin, and it’s not what he needs.

You’ve done well, says the voice in his head. No one will believe you purposefully failed if you miss. You will be free, and your dignity will be intact.

The other archers shot in quick succession, too eager or humiliated to wait. Khyris knows he’s already taken longer than anyone else, but he waits another few seconds before nocking another arrow and letting it fly.

Khyris opens his eyes to find his arrows in the center of all three red targets. He sighs in relief.

Relief for what?

All is deadly quiet, and then some idiot begins cheering. Khyris shuts his eyes again.

Aeron. Of course it’s Aeron.

Soon, everyone is cheering or clapping, Amoun loudest of all. Khyris flushes hot, looking around for him, who’s grinning like someone just handed him all the wealth of Kadar.

Khyris goes over to him and wraps him a hug, drawing laughter and ‘aw’s from the onlookers. It’s just an excuse to whisper, “I hate you to the skin of your bones,” in Aeron’s ear, who just laughs louder.

#

Khyris stands in front of a little pond where some fool spilled water outside Amoun’s tent, turning left and right to inspect his outfit. It’s the only fine thing he has, provided by the army, meant for rare banquets at the palace.

It’s a velvet jacket in Kadar yellow decorated with the few gold medals he has to his name, one for exceptional scouting, another for bringing down the largest hog anyone had ever seen, large enough to feed the whole camp for an evening.

The yellow tent flap opens and Khyris quickly snaps to a stiff position, relaxing when Amoun gestures for him to. “Khyris,” he says with a warm smile. “Thank you for joining me.”

You didn’t leave me much of a choice, Khyris thinks, though even he’s not bold enough to say that to the queen’s face. He’s wearing a thin golden circlet with soft brown gems embedded, the crown of Kadar. Khyris has never been close enough to see it; it sparkles in the evening sunlight.

He’s never been close enough to see the queen’s face like this—the kindness deep within earthy eyes, his short, well-trimmed beard and mustache, the single lock of black hair hanging down on his forehead. His black cloak doesn’t have a smattering of dust, and the long fur hairs poking out of the collar make Khyris ache for the crude fur coat he made himself the last time he was home—these velvet jackets don’t do much in the way of warmth.

Amoun even smells like the forests of the north, Khyris’ home, with a hint of soft incense.

“Please, come in.” Amoun steps aside to let Khyris slip past him. He takes a quick look around. Amoun’s tent is nicer than any camp tent he’s ever been in, a colorful carpet covering the sand, a table of golden wood with two chairs set up in the middle, a white curtain hiding what’s presumably a bed in the corner. Even the lanterns, burning with blessed warmth, are polished and new compared to the grimy ones in the tent Khyris shares with five others.

“Sit,” Amoun says softly, latching the tent flap closed to keep out the abhorrent wind. Khyris sits, happy to be out of the cold with a plate of hot food in front of him, if nothing else. The faster he can fail this and get it over with, the better.

Amoun sits opposite him and unclasps his cloak, revealing a finely woven black waistcoat over a long sleeved yellow shirt.

“Ah, so His Majesty is capable of wearing color,” Khyris says before he can think about it. He refuses to go back on it, even as Amoun looks at him in surprise. Khyris won’t be the timid little soldier afraid to even look at his queen. He respects himself more than that.

“I admit my dress is rather unconventional for Kadar,” Amoun says, slipping into a relieving smile. He picks up a white teapot and pours them both steaming cups. From the smell, it’s coffee—in the evening? Another oddity. “It’s one of many reasons for people to distrust me—or worse, dislike me.” He smiles again over the rim of his cup.

Khyris is holding his for warmth until he remembers that he’s not in the tent waking up to Aeron jabbering in his ear, he has manners. He quickly puts it back on the table. All the manners he learned from his father and his one visit to court suddenly leave him. Hopefully his country boy ignorance doesn’t show too much.

No, he wants it to show, doesn’t he? He wants Amoun to be disgusted with his choice and let him go.

Khyris grips the handle of the coffee cup again but after a few seconds of indecision, leaves it on the table.

“I do hope you’ll enjoy this meal,” Amoun says, oblivious to Khyris’ inner turmoil and the fact that this is the best meal Khyris will ever have in the field in the middle of winter. “Have you ever been to a palace banquet? Forgive me for not remembering your face—you all look the same in those jackets.” He shovels a forkful of something into his mouth—wait, what are they eating?

Khyris gathers himself and picks up his knife, reminding himself to breathe. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he says after what’s probably too long of a pause. “I have been to a palace banquet once, shortly after I joined your army.” He focuses on cutting what he now discerns to be lamb, a delicacy they don’t get out here at the building sites, laying on a bed but of golden rice. It’s hot and warms him to the bone, but it’s not as spicy as the kind his father used to make.

Amoun laughs, speaking with a full mouth. “Let’s not pretend it’s my army. Cai knows I don’t pay enough attention to it. Oh, forgive me”—he smiles sheepishly— “when I’m alone with someone, especially here instead of the palace, I forget my manners. My upbringing is coming back to haunt me. Perhaps that’s another reason people detest me.”

Khyris pauses. Suddenly the food is vastly less interesting than Amoun. “You grew up humble, Majesty?”

“Please, call me Amoun. I am here to court you.”

The reminder makes Khyris bring his eyes back to his plate. Make him throw you out.

“Yes,” Amoun continues, “I came from the forests of the north. My parents were well off, and I have no siblings, but it was not a glamorous childhood by any means. Not compared to what I’m used to now.”

Khyris chews slowly, hyperaware of everything. “I also came from the forests of the north, M—Amoun.”

“Really?” Amoun’s silver clatters against his plate. “I knew I chose well. Where exactly were you raised?”

Khyris tells him about the cabin his mother built, four young siblings and a father too crippled to hunt, a mother too overworked to cook, the privilege Khyris considered hunting.

He loses track of time as Amoun talks about those same forests, hiding from great imaginary beasts that were only the howls of the wind in the trees as a child, the warmth of the curry Amoun’s mother made—the same one Khyris’ mother made for his birthday.

Khyris has never met someone who grew up in the north forests before, and he soon finds he can’t keep the smile off his face.

Before Khyris knows it, they’ve both finished their meals and wine has replaced the coffee. No attendants come in to bring them dessert, Amoun only gets up and accepts plates from them through the tent flap.

Khyris doesn’t have to leave his chair the whole time—he feels like the queen here, dipping a spoon into the bowl of warmth honey cake soaked through with cream. Amoun asks him about his friends, his family, laughs at every story of his siblings, goes somber when Khyris tells him why he joined the army.

Amoun makes him feel like everything he has to say is worth something to him, that his nods aren’t the polite, diplomatic ones he’s no doubt used to putting on. Khyris is only too happy to return the favor and admire the reflection of the lamplight in Amoun’s eyes.

And then it’s ending. The wine has faded from Khyris’ system, and the warmth of Amoun’s hand as he helps Khyris to his feet is bittersweet. He doesn’t know when he stopped trying to make Amoun dislike him, if he was ever trying at all, but now he’s foolishly praying that Amoun will ask him back.

“Thank you for such a wonderful evening, Khyris,” Amoun says, smiling like the witches of legend are said to do—so strong, so beautiful, they make it impossible to look away. Khyris’ limbs seem to draw closer of their own accord before he realizes and quickly puts distance between them.

“Thank you,” Khyris says, a shadow clouding over his heart as he turns toward the tent flap that Amoun holds open.

“Would you like to go out with me again?” Amoun asks as Khyris is about to leave. He stares in hopeful disbelief. “It’s perfectly alright if you don’t. I would never force you into anything you would not want—I have heard the stories your companions tell. Khyris the Angrily Smitten.” Amoun’s lips curve into a smile with an unescapable hint of pain. “I think the angry part is more prevalent. You are one of the ones who would detest me at court.”

Khyris is again mad at Aeron, for an entirely different reason. Has this whole magical evening gone to shit?

“Majesty—Amoun”—he takes a deep breath— “I—I was wrong about you. I would like to go out with you again. It is possible for minds to change.” He laces his own fingers behind his back, arms held taught in the stiff jacket.

Amoun’s answering grin is brighter than the sun.

#

Amoun has to go back to Ramia, of course, and Khyris back to the city building corporal’s lifestyle, but they spend every chance they could get together, alone, in a welcome relief from life for both of them. Aeron and Delia have been nothing but evil about it, but it’s no less than Khyris would expect.

His and Amoun’s second outing comes mere weeks after their first, when Khyris thought he might go mad from anticipation. Would their next meeting be just as perfect as their first? He frets, despite Aeron’s relentless teasing about the fact that so recently, he’d despise himself for fretting about this.

He made the mistake of addressing the queen as Amoun in Delia and Aeron’s presence. At the risk of his own sanity, he’s been careful to censor himself since, though Aeron probably sees right through it.

Their second date is every bit as good as the first and more. Amoun invites Khyris to the camp where he’s staying, visiting another battalion of soldiers in the north. Khyris was happy to go just to escape Aeron’s teasing, but the smile Amoun gives him upon arrival did things to him he didn’t know were possible. After a few days together and the blistering kiss Amoun gives him when they part, Khyris knows his mind is made up.

It should not come as a surprise when Amoun proposes only a few months later. The whole purpose of Amoun’s visit, after all, was to find a spouse to court.

He’s not just falling for the queen of Kadar for all the perks of being his lover. when Amoun first announced this challenge, Khyris thought the steady income for his family would be the only reason he’d ever agree if miraculously chosen.

As soppy and awful as it sounds, as much as he’s becoming the very lovestruck fool he loved to hate, he enjoys Amoun for him, not for his money or his power or his safety. His company. His smile. His mix of ease and nerves, how he both seems to know exactly what he’s doing and has no clue at all.

Now, he’s in Ramia again for the first time in four years in the part of it he never thought he’d get to visit in his lifetime: the queen’s private palace apartments. Amoun is looking at him the warmth of the sun in those eyes and asking if Khyris will be his forever. What can Khyris say but yes?

Khyris might hang around court more often than he ever thought he would, but he still can’t bear to leave the army. He sees past the humor in Aeron’s voice when he asks, “Don’t forget about your fellow corporals when you’re the queen’s husband, alright?” Khyris spends half of the days leading up to wedding with the soldiers, working hard and crashing harder just like he did before, and the other half in some kind of paradise of luxury with Amoun.

He invites Aeron and Delia to the palace when he visits—he’s learned, as the queen’s betrothed, there’s little he can’t get away with, including sudden leave for any soldier he likes. Seeing the raw awe on Aeron’s face makes his own adjustment a little easier to bear.

He and Amoun decline to get tattoos of betrothal—that’s a Cairic tradition at heart, and the queen of Kadar couldn’t be seen with that, especially since they’re trying to move away from Tel Cairis’ traditions.

Being suddenly waited on and served food even better than the stuff in Amoun’s tent on their first date is nice, but jarring. He’s so used to the humble life, getting everything himself, being independent. The army only enforced that, even when he gained friends.

Now the clothes he wears puts his yellow dinner jacket to shame, and every bit of building has been made by hundreds of men compared to a few. He can only wonder how Amoun adjusted.

Amoun is a sweetheart, empathetic and sensitive. Unfortunately, this means Khyris can’t keep a secret around him, and he quickly notices Khyris’ discomfort.

“Mi’hail, please,” he implores one night, because of course he’d be the type to use old fashioned terms of endearment like that. “Tell me what I can do to make this place feel as much as your home as it is mine. All I desire is to make you happy.”

Khyris sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. His cheek is pillows on the silk nightshirt covering his arm, so light and soft and decadent you can hardly call it a shirt. His feet are made warm by the sheets of Amoun’s bed, the warm orange glow of candlelight turning Amoun’s skin the most beautiful gold.

This is not the first time Amoun has asked, but Khyris always tells him not to bother, he’s busy enough, he’s done enough already. “If we are to be married,” Amoun tries, “it cannot be on unequal footing. I will not have you be a sacrifice to be with me. You grew up with so little—let me repay you now.”

“Oh, and you grew up in luxury?” Khyris counters.

“Stop trying to switch the subject.” Amoun sits up against the cushioned headboard. “Tell me, or I will not leave it alone.”

Khyris knows how capable he is of that. He manages a small smile.

“A garden,” he settles on at last, thinking of the northern forests, how he loved the trees but always wished for a more glamorous, well-tended grove. “Remind me of the north, where we are from. Give me a version of our forests that’s neater, that shows the nicest parts without all the ugly ones.” He sighs, already picturing it, almost able to smell the richness of the tree sap if he concentrates. “With a fountain,” he adds. “Is that too much?”

Amoun’s eyes are shining. “Not at all. I will do it, mi’hail.”

Amoun builds him a garden. He commissions a fountain. He brings the forests of the north to Ramia.

Khyris underestimates him once again.

It takes so long and takes up so much space, Khyris is eventually banned entirely from the west side of the palace in case he catches a glimpse of Amoun’s hard work. All he knows is that Amoun is always beaming and giddy with excitement and anticipation of Khyris’ reaction.

The damn thing takes so long to build, Khyris doesn’t get to see it till three weeks after their wedding, when they get back from their trip alone to the forests of the north.

When everything is finally done to Amoun’s liking, Amoun can’t let go of his hand as he leads him out to see it. He even makes Khyris close his eyes, an incredible trust exercise. When Khyris is allowed to open them, his jaw falls open.

He’d been prepared by the sound of flowing water, but nothing could truly brace him for this. From the top of the steps leading inside where they stand, Khyris can see the whole thing: the fountain of himself holding his bow, quiver at his back, free hand reaching up to fix his hair. “Wh—how did you get a statue of me commissioned without needing me there?”

Amount just grins.

None of the trees are old enough to provide shade yet, but stone beds with soil inside house several young, green trees that will grow up to be the great sprawling ones of the north. The floor is stone, not dirt, and it’s much nicer and cleaner to look at than the leafy forest floor. The smell of the trees is absent, but it’s more than made up for with the greenery tucked into every spot, the rare pops of pink flowers from the east. Everything is well tended and trimmed, from the hedges to the plants to the shape of the trees.

Each layer up to the palace entrance is covered in some of potted plant, and an artificial river runs around every bit of it to feed them, the channel carved into the stone.

Khyris can’t fathom how he imported everything and how it’s stayed so fresh—the wont of a queen, he supposes.

“The gardens of Khyris,” Amoun says quietly at his back, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to pull him closer.

After another minute of silence, he laughs nervously. “Speechless, mi’hail?”

“Uh, yes.” Khyris turns his head to kiss him. “I don’t know how to thank you. it’s absolutely gorgeous. I—seriously, all of this is for me?”

“I would be happy to ban the public if you asked,” Amoun confirms. “Does it take you back to the north forests as it does for me?”

“You know it does. It’s perfect in every way.”

Amoun walks him down the steps to the garden itself, showing him every carefully chosen detail. Khyris is happy to stand with him near the fountain, enough for the sound of the rushing water to lull him into a sense of calm. He wonders how he could’ve ever hated Amoun.

“Khyris the Angrily Smitten, they called you all those months ago,” Amoun murmurs. Khyris’ ears burn hot.

“I find it endearing,” Amoun confesses, “but I know you find it rather—embarrassing. I’d like to call you something else.” His fingers curl around Khyris’ neck, soft and warm. “Khyris mi’hail? Khyris the Beloved?”

Khyris fights the smile threatening to break out and fails. “Better than Khyris the Great, or something awful like that.”

Amoun laughs. “I am great enough for both of us,” he says, and pulls Khyris to the sound of the water mingling with the wind. An earthly heaven without Cai.

shorts taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @magic-is-something-we-create @lunarmoment @missingpeace

acogs taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @magic-is-something-we-create @inkflight @spencer-nyx @writing-is-a-martial-art @ashen-crest @wisteria-eventide @nikkywrites @denkis-phone-charger @myhusbandsasemni @lynolord @ettawritesnstudies @golden-apple-s-blog @chazzawrites @pen-of-roses @47crayons @wickerring

[lonelypond]

BETWEEN US

NicoMaki, Love Live, 3.6K, 1/1

Summary: Nishikino Maki and Yazawa Nico have many challenges ahead, but they get through them together.

Between Us

Is this what love is? Not a fire that bites painfully but two people laying so close to feel every breath, hands nearly touching, eyes on the brilliant stars opening themselves up suddenly, sure enough to share truths they speak into the night, this solitary space, this private moment between them.

Nishikino Maki spoke first, always the more impatient, curious about Yazawa Nico’s state of mind. “What do you want to do, Nico-chan?”

“Nico wants to show everyone that little and cute can be strong, sexy smart, talented, funny, hard working, successful….I’m tired of how the world treats cute girls like Nico. Nico is a star.” Nico flung her arms out, to encompass the sky. “They should be in awe.”

I am, Maki said to herself, and then thought, why not say it out loud. This was all new, why not be bolder.

“I am.”

Nico squeezed Maki’s hand, a reward for honesty. “What do you want to do, Maki-chan?”

No one said Maki’s name like Nico. It had been Maki’s anchor through the continuing craziness of Muse, Eli’s taskmaster torture, qualifying, Honoka’s collapse, then starting over, right as they discovered these new feelings, a gift from all they’d been through.

“I want to use the Nishikino fortune for new things, good things, to stop propping up out dated ways and awful people. I want to find new ways to help…” Maki was a person of specifics and she had a list. “Girls, gays, empaths, people fighting bigotry, neurodivergents, water protectors,” Maki thought of Rin and giggled, “furries, us, our friends, the world.”

“Maki-chan will do great things.”

“Once I’m 30.”

Nico Yazawa considered. This was so new and 14 years from now, when Maki was a doctor and her trust vested, seemed as distant as the nearest star Nico could see. But Nico knew naming goals was the first step to achieving them, even if it seemed a wild fantasy.

“Nico will be there.” Not flashy, just quiet determination.

Nico heard Maki gulp. She was probably tearing up and couldn’t speak. Nico didn’t really expect her too. Sharing was such a new trust. But Maki’s hand carefully kept precise palm to palm contact with Nico’s. That said everything.

“Marry Nico.”

Maki sighed. “No one can know.”

“Okay.”

YAZAWA NICO FINISHES FIRST INTERNATIONAL TOUR WITH SPRING SPLASH IN HONOLULU

NISHIKINO MAKI BEGINS RONIN YEAR SOLO WORLD TOUR SURFING IN MAUI

Sunrise. Quiet beach. Her own choices. Is this what contentment felt like, Maki wondered. Finally, moments of quiet to listen for the important things. Leaning against her duffle and board, dressed in a striped rash guard, bright lavender board shorts, and a faded denim “You Are On Native Land” cap, Maki stretched, watching the horizon as a lone speck appeared in the distance, jogging toward her, not actually growing much as the distance closed, Maki thought with a private grin. Nico, running in an oversized hoodie and bikini bottom, gasped dramatically, reaching a hand for the water bottle Maki held out as a lure.

“Still running 5Ks every morning?”

“10K when I don’t have a concert or rehearsal. Nico is a boss.”

“Umi would be proud.”

Nico dropped and did ten fast pushups in the sand next to Maki, “Not if Nico told her it was only to make girls swoon.”

“Girls?” Maki arched an eyebrow, hand sweeping through her hair.

“Girl.”

“Fiancee.”

Nico laughed, rolling toward Maki, pulling her down into a playful, sandy kiss. “Ready to upgrade to trophy wife?”

“Yes.”

But there was no hurry that morning. Both had put their other lives on multiple 15 plus hour flights and fallen briefly off the grid to sit side by side on this hidden beach, the tide surging, a rare treasured morning to share.

“Went to the symphony last night. Monica Mancini sang, Henry Mancini’s daughter,” Nico hummed the Pink Panther theme, “Nice voice, more your thing than Nico’s though. She sang a lot of Johnny Mercer. And some new stuff. Nico was taking notes.”

“You’re great on stage Nico-chan, but I guess you can always learn from other performers.”

“Nico is learning songwriting.”

Maki pushed against Nico, “Going to try to get me to put Nico Nico Ni to music again.”

Nico’s mood turned serious, “I miss watching you play.”

“I miss playing.”

“When Nico gets her penthouse, there will be a baby grand.” Nico let her hand settle on Maki’s, “Working with a portable keyboard now. And Umi’s giving me advice, so many books...I’m so busy reading, there’s no time to party.”

“Good.”

“Hey, do you have any plans tomorrow night?”

Nico stared at Maki for a moment, but there was only earnestness in the amethyst staring back, “Not since you got here.”

“I’ve been talking with some of the elders, volunteering on Maui, learning about healing plants, and aloha ‘āina.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s really cool. I’m going to get Papa to invite some of the teachers and doctors I’ve met to give seminars for us. Aloha ‘āina means so many things, but it’s mostly being determined to take care of each other by taking care of the land. It’s very land based and tradition based, here in Hawai’i,” Maki picked up a handful of sand, “but it’s caring and not soft...exactly...when you meet Kai, he’ll explain it better. We’ve been invited for dinner, his uncle plays the ohe hano ihu.”

“What’s that?”

“ A nose flute, not for big concerts, more personal...Kai says his uncle has so many stories about it being used in courting rituals.”

“Is Maki-chan taking notes?”

“Maybe.” Ah, Maki’s sexy, best musician in the world grin. Nico missed that one a lot on the road. A killer cute band was no replacement for the brilliant, lovely pianist who’d so boldly wrapped Nico’s heart in music.

They were in the teasing phase now. “Do you have to keep courting a cute girl after marriage?”

Maki shoved into Nico again, “Well, duh…”

Joint laughter, rolling out to meet the tide.

“We’re getting married.” Maki said quietly.

“Just need to take our passports to pick up the license and go to the shrine. We filled out everything else online.” Nico glanced at her bare legs, “And Nico brought a kimono. Although Maki-chan looks sporty cute just like she is.”

Maki had a far off look, not paying much attention to Nico. Happy to wait ‘til Maki drifted back to the beach, Nico was going to enjoy memorizing her favorite scenery, Maki’s beautifully expressive face, now relaxed and open, thoughts waves and clouds in constant motion. Nico knew the solitude here allowed Maki to relax, there was no family pressure, their phones were off, nothing on either of their schedules for at least the rest of the week. A rare moment to sit with each other, sharing this beauty.

NISHIKINO REAL ESTATE GROUP BUYS LARGE LUXURY TOWER NEAR NISHIKINO MEDICAL CENTER

SUPERSTAR REFUSES TO GIVE UP PENTHOUSE APARTMENT TO NISHIKINO HEIR

Fast food. School girls lingering from Otonokizaka. Two people shoved into the booth furthest from the door and windows, sitting on the same bench, hip to hip, back to the rest of the room.

“So many memories in this place.” Nico unwrapped her burger.

“So many french fries.” Maki dipped a sample french fry in her chocolate milkshake.

“Another meal Nico paid for. You got rich not paying for food.”

“Hey! You were too proud to let me pay.”

“Nico is still too proud.” Nico tapped her fingers on the table. This late afternoon, for this clandestine meeting, they’d allowed themselves the indulgence of wearing their braided gold and platinum wedding band, Maki added the simple diamond Nico had bought her for their engagement.

“Is this going to work? Us actually living this close together without rumors starting?” Maki had been worrying. So many comments in the press and on social media.

“Everyone already has us at war. Nico’s a selfish poser, Maki’s a spoiled brat. Enemies to lovers.”

“Not funny, Nico-chan.”

“Nico will throw a huge party before I leave on my next tour. My new landlord will threaten very publically to throw me out of the building. Everything will flare up, but Maki-chan will continue to do boring future doctor things and by the time Nico gets back, all anyone will be talking about is Nico’s new album.”

“They’re not boring future doctor things.”

“No, they’re smart, saving the world future doctor things and Nico is so proud.” A quick kiss on Maki’s palm.

“Meanwhile…”

“Meanwhile, Umi and Eli install a secret hatch above the decorative staircase centerpiece of your expensively designed main room.”

“I’m going to miss you, Nico-chan.” Sadness.

Time to change the mood. Nico dipped a french fry in her strawberry shake and fed it to Maki. “How’s studying going?”

Maki leaned, chin in hand, frowny. “I could be more motivated.”

“So B?”

“A minus.”

“Nerd.”

“ ‘s dull." Maki said, chewing slowly. "But have to stay on track with the family benchmarks.”

“Yeah.” Nico decided to talk about happier things, “ooohh, did I tell you Eli’s setting up a foundation for Nico as her graduation project. We’ve already donated tickets to queer youth groups in every city on the tour and Nozomi’s setting up mentor programs.”

“Expect a large anonymous donation.”

“Expect a large not so anonymous thank you.”

“I’m just proud that you’re doing things to actually help people. I want to do more.”

“You’re studying to be a doctor, Maki-chan. That’s hard. Nico’s got it easy. All Nico has to do is” Nico went into her signature gesture, “Nico Nico Ni and everything gets brighter.” Nico suddenly remembered she shouldn’t have let her catch phrase out full voice during what was supposed to be a secret meeting, but this was a low traffic period so no one seemed to notice.

“I couldn’t get that out of my head, the first time I saw you do it. It was annoying.”

“But you loved Nico.” Nico snuggled closer, enjoying a chance to feel Maki next to her.

“But I loved Nico, all of Nico, the bold, brash, terrible liar, the kind, caring sister, the determined ally and friend, the hard working and talented performer.”

“Nico wasn’t a liar, Nico was an optimist.”

“Private chef,” Maki cough giggled.

Nico grabbed the french fries as Maki reached for another one, “Confiscated for cheekiness.”

“Give me those.” Maki grabbed, Nico dodged, french fries flew loose and they giggled their way through the next few minutes until Nico leaned forward to whisper in Maki’s ear.

“So are your parents still in New York City?”

Gulping, suddenly completely flustered, Maki nodded.

Nico bounced up, offering a gallant hand, “Nico will walk you home.”

“Fancy.”

“Only the best for Mrs. Yazawa.”

“That would be Mrs. Nishikino.”

“We’ll wrestle. Nico will win.”

“Optimist.”

Nico’s hand on Maki’s waist was a gentle guide into the autumn night, two hats pulled down, two collars pulled up, Nico in a mask to protect her voice. “Wait and see.”

Maki leaned into Nico. This night, unlike too many others recently, felt just right.

HEAD OF THE NISHIKINO MEDICAL GROUP COLLAPSES, HOSPITALIZED

NICO NI NEW YEAR’S CHARITY CONCERT SELLS OUT IN MINUTES

Nico had never been so sick. She’d lost count of the medicines she was taking to sleep at night, and then the additional ones added to get her through tonight’s concert. Then she could rest. Go to her Mama’s house and get babied for a bit. Maki had been so sad at Christmas, with too many family obligations to fly to Los Angeles. Nico had gotten through their Christmas Eve quick chat and then collapsed, barely moving until yesterday’s rehearsal, which wiped her out.

Pounding on her hotel room door. What the hell? Phone pinged, the Maki-tone.

“Open your door, Nico--chan.” Maki sounded angry. Was she pounding? Nico felt even fuzzier, slumping to the door, opening it to fall against a tall, angry Maki, beanie over her hair, sunglasses, and a mask.

“Nico-chan?” Now Maki’s voice sounded tearful.

“Hi, Mrs. Yazawa.” Nico croaked out, hoping to make Maki at least giggle.

Strong arms swept her up, Maki striding across the room, putting Nico gently down on the bed, Maki immediately examining every bottle by Nico’s bedside, “What kind of quack put you on all this?”

“Don’t know.”

“Don’t know? You don’t know.”

“Trainer found ‘em…recommended.”

“You should be in a hospital.” Maki’s voice broke.

“Concert, charity, millions. Nico Nico Ni.” Nico had no idea if what she was saying made sense.

“Cancel. Refund. I’ll make a bigger donation.”

“Nico is a trooper.”

“Nico is a zombie. What the hell kind of irresponsible moron gave you all this?” Maki crashed all the bottles to the floor. “Did they inject you with anything?”

“It’s LA, Maki-chan, the beautiful people never stop.” Nico coughed. It hurt like 50 Umi arrows to the chest, “Nico is a beautiful people.”

“Nico-chan…” Maki was kneeling next to the bed, desperation and weariness lining her face. She’d never travelled well, Nico realized.

Nico managed to flip so she was on her side, managing to smile at Maki, “Hey pretty girl.”

“I am going to sue that quack into despair and destitution.”

Nico blinked, suddenly aware that Maki should be in Tokyo. “Why are you here, Maki-chan?.”

“Hanayo heard a rumor…”

“Did anyone see you?”

“I don’t care.” Maki’s head dropped to the bed, “Papa collapsed...and you’re like this and hiding it from me…and letting some greedy idiot try to kill you...if anything happens to you, Nico-chan…” And the tears, Nico could feel them as she reached for Maki, hot, heavy, rolling off pale cheeks.

“Nico will be fine.”

Maki shook her head.

“Look at me, Maki-chan.”

Maki raised her head. Her eyes were bright. She was always so bright, so caring, her native prickliness a fortification against all the emotions Maki didn’t know how to process.

“I will be fine.”

Maki surged up, her arms drawing in Nico, whose heart was really not rested enough for tackled into bed by the redhead of her dreams. “Maki-chan, you’re going to hug Nico to death.”

“Don’t say that.” Maki’s arm twitched for a minute like she was going to shove Nico away, but then Nico found herself pressed as closely as she’d ever been against a clothed Maki, which would have been amazing if she could breathe. So Nico let a cough out and Maki loosened her hold.

“Let Nico sleep.”

“Okay. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Nico had closed her eyes, muttering, “...love you.”

“I love you too, Nico-chan.”

A-RISE STEPS IN AT LAST MINUTE FOR NICO NI

NISHIKINO MAKI CHECKING OUT STANFORD RESEARCH FACILITIES, POSSIBLE PARTNERSHIP

Nico is officially spoiled. Another morning waking up to Maki curled up by her side...She’d shipped everyone else back to Japan, tour over, a solid break until Nico’s doctor cleared her for rehearsal. Nico sat up, teasing tumbles of red hair, Maki had been very clear that Nico had to clear the steroids out of her system first. But at least Maki hadn’t banned other forms of exercise.

“I’m not asleep, Nico-chan.” Maki mumbled, sounding totally still asleep.

“Thanks for coming to rescue Nico.”

“Don’t make me do it again. I might have to go back to school.”

“I thought you were joining the Board Of Directors ahead of schedule?”

Maki opened her eyes, stretching, “Order pancakes. And bacon. And orange juice. And muffins.”

“Brunch in bed.”

“I’m not leaving until I have to.”

Nico reached down to kiss Maki’s forehead, “It’s been nice having you here.”

“Then come home.”

“Nico is working on it.”

Maki raised an eyebrow. Nico sounded excited. “Is there something I don’t know about?”

“It was supposed to be your Christmas surprise, but Nico’s agent was still negotiating.”

What could Nico’s agent be negotiating that would be a Christmas surprise for Maki?

“I’m going be the main character in a TV drama, based in Tokyo.”

“Really?”

“Really. I didn’t get to be there when your Dad ended up in the hospital and I’m so sorry…I knew you needed me, but...this is our life...” Maki nodded as Nico gestured at the hotel suite, continuing, “And I knew you were going to be super busy with family stuff so I pitched an idea and two production companies jumped on board. Nico is taking a paycut and ownership, but all you’ll have to do is come upstairs and Nico will be right there, at least for six months.”

“Nico-chan…” Maki sat up.

Nico put her arm and pulled Maki in, Maki dropping her head to Nico’s shoulder, “We get through the tough stuff together, Maki-chan. We always have. I love you.”

“Love you.” Maki was falling asleep again. Nico would add coffee to their brunch order. Maki had to be awake enough to sneak out and catch a plane.

YAZAWA NICO TO STAR IN DOCTOR SMILE

DOCTOR NISHIKINO MAKI TAKES OVER FAMILY MEDICAL PRACTICE

If she didn’t have Nico, Maki would probably just live with a grand piano, a huge bathtub, and a couch to eat take out on, Nico thought as she sank into lavender scented steaming water.

“It’s not funny, Rin. And I don’t need weekly updates about who Nico’s kissing on the show.” Maki sounded aggravated. Nico giggled. She’d come home early from a weekend meet the fans event and snuck into Maki’s luxury tub to recover. Candles were lit, Idol music popping.

“Wait a minute, Rin. I think…” Maki’s steps sounded hasty and she was suddenly in the door of the bathroom.

Nico winked. “Hi Maki!”

Maki made a grumbly noise and turned sideways, “No, I’m okay, Rin. There’s just a surprise in my bathtub…” Maki glanced at Nico, “Rin says hi. And you have to stop using my cases, Nico-chan.”

“Did Rin say that? And who says Nico does?”

Maki glared, “Where do you even get your information?”

Nico raised a finger to her lips and winked.

“And that red wig. It’s awful. People think you’re making fun of me.” Maki listened to her phone. “Shut up, Rin.” And the phone went in her coat pocket.

“What did Rin say?”

“Nvermind.” Maki muttered.

“Maki-chan…” Nico splashed at Maki.

“No one would ever call me Dr. Smile.”

Nico guffawed, slapping water everywhere. “I miss Rin.”

“If I had Umi’s bow, I wouldn’t.”

“You love her.” Nico leaned back, watching her wife, who had flopped on the nearby chaise. “So who thinks Nico is making fun of you?”

“Papa.”

“PFfffffff…who cares.”

Maki glared, ‘“We’re trying to keep his stress levels low.”

“Red headed doctors are the best.”

“But I like your hair; it looks like you.”

“But our daughter will look like Dr. Smile.”

That threw Maki’s train of thought completely askew. The closest she could get was imagining Cotaro when she first met him with bright red hair.

“I wonder if our children will look like you? All your siblings do.”

“And they’re cute. But our children will be NicoMaki cute. I’ve seen your baby pictures, you were adorable.” Nico leaned back, smiling up at Maki. “Nico can’t wait to have a family to come home to.”

“You have me.”

“And I love it.” Nico blew lavender scented bubbles at Maki, “But you, me, the cutest children ever in the universe, and Christmas morning.”

Maki couldn’t keep the huge grin back. “I can tell them all about Santa-san.”

“But we’re not spoiling them too much.”

Maki pouted at Nico.

Nico giggled, “That’s what our parents will do.”

Maki got up, taking off her coat, sliding out of her jacket, unbuttoning her shirt halfway and slipping out of her pants. Then she sat on the edge of the tub, feet in the water, toes teasing Nico’s legs. “You’re going to tour less, right.”

“Nico’s not touring now. You’re going to cut down your hours, right, Maki-chan.”

“Just started the search for an Executive Director. And put the LGBTQ+ Health Centers proposal on the fast track.”

Nico leaned over, her chin on Maki’s thigh, “We’ve worked really hard for this.”

“We have.”

“I think Mama knows.”

Maki laughed, “It was that morning she surprised us at breakfast, wasn’t it?”

For once, Nico was the one blushing. “Nico needs…” Nico’s arm slipped under Maki’s shirt, a casual touch on Maki’s back, “more elegant pajamas for entertaining company.”

“No you don’t.”

“You like it when Nico borrows your shirt.”

“No, I love it when Nico-chan borrows my shirt.”

“Nico loves your pajamas.” Nico’s fingers started tracing patterns.

“Ha!” Keeping her cool with Nico this close had always been impossible so Maki just lowered herself into the water, pausing for a messy, wet kiss, “Let’s skip dinner.”

NISHIKINO MAKI AND YAZAWA NICO: DETAILS OF THEIR WHIRLWIND COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE

The interviewer leaned forward as Maki ran a hand through her hair. She was relaxed in a light gray Tadashi Shoji corded lace sheath dress, and confidently answered her question, “It was a long day, my eyes were so tired everything was blurry and I got in the wrong elevator. Nico had just gotten pics of the Ayase twins and we started talking about high school.”

“Talking?” Nico snorted, standing behind Maki, hands in the pockets of bright pink Victoria Beckham trousers, the matching blazer falling open, “It was all Nico’s sex appeal. Nico is irresistible.”

Maki leaned her head back, a private smile for Nico, “Nico is irresistible.”

“Is it irresponsible to take so much time off from your responsibilities to take a world tour honeymoon and then start a family?”

Nico chuckled, her hands on Maki’s shoulder, “We’ve planned carefully. And they’re our businesses. Nico never understood people working themselves to death, not taking time for family. We want to change corporate culture.”

“You’ve always been ambitious, Nico. What’s your next project?”

Nico winked, “That’s just between us.”

“No hints for our viewers, Maki?”

Nico leaned down, arms around Maki’s shoulders, whispering something in her ear. Maki’s full, flaring blush could have been a picture from high school. The interviewer laughed.

“Nice to see you two worked out the Penthouse Wars.”

“Nico is a reasonable person.”

Maki threw back her head, laughing, “Sure, that’s why.”

“Well, Nico is certainly a top…”

“Nico-chan!”

“I love you, Maki-chan.” Giggling, Nico kissed her wife’s cheek.

Nico might have been the only one to hear Maki’s muttered, “I love you, Nico-chan.” But it had always been true.

A/N: Another AU Yeah August request, it started out as Married Rivals, but I was reading a Dolly Parton songwriting book and in the songs about love chapter there were these lyrics from "Between Us":

In our love let's share a friendship between us Always close enough to talk things out Let's be honest with ourselves and each other And our love will never know mistrust or doubt

So I just started writing conversations.

[haiyuta]

|| sugarbaby.com || bang chan

Summary: Struggling college student Y/n is on her last year of college as the bills stack she’s in a tough situation. Her roommate recommends her a website for local sugar daddies. That's where she meets Mr. Bang Chan a producer who is just a nice guy that has a lot of money.  

word count: 5.1k || genre: smut, lots of smut, kissing, dry humping, light choking, praise kink, soft dom chan, like soft, like he’s a caring daddy btw, light barely their daddy kink. 

a/ n: the end plot is so sloppyyyy but I put lots of plot and love and smut this could be better but its 5k of hard work so enjoy yall~

Chewing on your lip you eyed the website your finger hovering on and off the signup button.

Sugarbabys.com the website read on the front page in a quote read "where sugar babies meet high-quality Sugar daddies".

Taking your finger away you gave it a thought all the scenarios going through your head. What if it didn't go well? What if the men were creepy? Your friend already gave you tips 'meet in a public place' 'only if you want to you have to' things like that.

Your bank account was desperate though. Between school and working, you were left with little money. Lingering in the back of your brain you knew you couldn't the reality of having to borrow more money from your friend making you cringe.

Were you desperate enough for money to even sign up for this site? It was something you considered before knowing a few girls who used the website your roommate included for a while until she got what she wanted her debt paid off.

'Its easy just sign up it couldn't hurt' she explained to you. You grimaced it could hurt the many thoughts popped up in your head bad and good.

Your finger hovered over the signup button with great reluctance decided to sign up. Entering your email and information you looked at the rules. It was simple enough the men contacted you based on profiles near them. They recommend you do a date in public for safety reasons etc.

Some of the profile content was questions like the financial level you needed and what you could provide and some small information about yourself.

Your fingertips hovered over the keys writing some info about yourself.

"Hello I'm a graduating student soon with ambitions to join the workforce soon financial help would be the main  and I am very open with new options and experiences"

Finishing off with some fun facts age and a pretty picture your friend took of you. etc you clicked the finished profile you sat back looking at the website shaking your head you closed your laptop work was going to be early tomorrow.

You didn't check the website but a lingering message sat in your inbox.

As the week went on it a few messages popped in your inbox with a variety of guys some seeking immediate sex for money, some promising you the world but then there was one message.

Bang: Hello I'm sure you got many messages you're very pretty I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me. I'll pay of course and see if we are matchable. If not just ignore this.

The message made you quirk your eyebrow it felt real and raw in a way the others didn't. And with no picture, you decided to go and message 'Bang' back.

You: Thanks for messaging me I would love to just send your phone number and I'll talk to you more.

Nerves in your stomach grew as you waited for his message. A night went by until his reply.

Bang: Thanks so much here's my number can't wait to talk to you more :)

You've been texting back and forth with Chan for a week till he scheduled a date setting a date that was good for both of you.

You were nervous your stomach turned with butterflies, the restaurant you were in was a fancy Italian restaurant downtown it had deep mood lighting with a clean crisp look to it.

"May I help you," the hostess gave a kind smile.

Shifting in your tight black dress your own but the gold necklace with a nice handbag were thanks to your roommate.  "Um yes," you said nervously "I have a dinner date with Mr. Bang," you said.

Looking at the list she nodded "oh yes he's waiting for you," she said leading you to the back.

Walking through the restaurant your stomach twisted leading towards the table. Questions ran through your mind. Why were you even doing this? It was to late to back down now you thought.

"Here you go," she gestured to the table. Laying your eyes on him you were slightly taken aback at his appearance. He was handsome.

Looking up from his phone a handsome smile lit his face. Slipping the device into his pocket he got up quickly.

"Let me," he gave a sheepish laugh moving toward you. The smell of his cologne filled your senses it was nice really nice.

"Thank you," you said sitting putting your loaned clutch on the table. Drinking in his features you noted he had sandy blond hair, deep dimples, and perhaps an accent. Dressed simply in a black button-up and black jeans expensive chan sat handsomely on his neck.

An awkward silence filled the table until he chuckled "I'm sorry I didn't even introduce myself I use Mr. Bang on my profile but you can call me Chan," he said. Yup, definitely an accent you noted.

His friendly smile radiated causing you to let a small smile "I'm Y/n thank you for taking me out". More like thanks for messaging me and taking me to a restaurant normally college boys would take you out to the best they could do. A local taco joint close to the university which was amazing but you did yearn for something romantic.

"You were beautiful I had to," he flirted with a charming smile. Stomach knotting at the word beautiful and how his foreign accent whispered them out.

"Thank you," you beamed shifting in your seat. The more you talked to him the more comfortable you became with him.

"So, you work in the music industry," you asked wanting to get to know him. Quickly thinking of his profile on the website. Young, producer and money to spend. The website though matched you and you couldn't directly message them until they choose you. Chan would be snatched up quickly if any sugar baby could choose.

"I do I'm a producer I also sing and rap a bit," he explained, "its something I like to do a lot" he added.

"That sounds like a lot of fun," you giggled poking at your food already full from the soup and salad but wanting more.

"It's long hours of editing and writing music," he perked up his eyebrow you noted he had a small cut in his eyebrow. "Hearing my music be sung by artist and people loving my lyrics is all worth it."

"But it's my passion but sadly my passion is mostly inside so it's hard to meet people," he explained eyeing you.

"May I ask why a guy like you would be on a sugar baby website," you said hoping you weren't overstepping your boundary. "I mean not that you can't be on these sites," you quickly blurted out feeling warm at the question you asked.

He laughed a little "I'm not a 40-year-old businessman with a wife and kids," he smirked out.

"Kind of," you trailed off staring at him.

"Well some of my friends were doing it recently saying they met some great people," he said "I also like showering my girl with money might as well see if this will work." he finished.

"Ah okay," you hummed eating some food.

"I'm just a nice guy who has a lot of money," he grinned his cheeky dimple popping out.

You snorted at the comment "wow," you laughed a little.

"Sorry was that cringy," he gave a sheepish smile.

You nodded covering your mouth trying not to laugh out loud.

"Anyway what about you," he asked.

You explained a bit about yourself adding what he needed to know you were almost out of college the struggle to finish was getting harder. He understood explaining he came to Korea from Australia looking for a fresh start. He found his talent when he sold one of his songs for the first time. You were shocked that it was called "Why so lonely" a classic a song that use to be on your freshman playlist every day.

The experience was new but something you would soon treasure a good conversation a lovely meal and getting money for it.

"Did you like the meal," he asked eyeing you placing his black card in his wallet writing down a quick tip.

"It was amazing," you gave a gentle smile. A little bummed this dinner had to end. Also anticipating if he wanted to continue this.

"May I drive you home," he asked giving you his arm. You smiled nodding slipping your arm through his arm.

The small private parking lot on the side as you browsed the expensive cars till you landed on his BMW with admiration a beautiful car that fit his aesthetic. Playful yet luxurious. Sliding into his car you shivered at the cold leather seats.

"Where do you live," he asked.

"Student apartments right next to the university," you explained "just that general area," you said hitting yourself of how dumb you sounded.

The car ride had light chatting he played some music from he wrote. You were shocked to find out it had some of your favorite artists under it. Learning he did some music for a trio group named 3racha.

Coming up to your apartment you sighed glancing at him "thank you so much," you paused letting out a soft "sir" at the end of it.

A moment passed over the both of you until Chan let out a laugh "Sir," a deep cute laugh.

A blush went to your cheeks at his laugh"You're cute enough you don't have to try okay," he assured his you pressing his hand to your cheek gently.

Your face was warm but his hand felt warmer. "Sorry about that," you said softly cringing at yourself. How natural this felt was amazing.

"May I kiss you," he whispered out his lips so close.

Your eyes connected to his light brown eyes your lips wanting to touch his "please."

It was a swift moment as his lips capturing your own. It was soft as he greedily consumed your kiss you were shocked at how good it was to be kissed.

Pulling gently apart your eyes flickered to his noting his eyes were so warm and deep you could drown in them.

"Um thank you for everything," you said feeling warm and frazzled at him. Opening the car door you could feel your heartbeat a little faster and your mind swirl with want.

"Your welcome baby girl," he winked watching you with as you trailed yourself up the steps and into the apartment building.

Its been a few months since your first date with Chan. Honestly, it felt too good to be true. Soon as got home he texted you some information and the next thing that morning a pretty number with 4 digits now sit in your account.

It took all your will not to scream in a pillow at the money. That's what you make in a month for a date.

As the relationship continued Chan was giving you money for your attention dates, kissing, sex all of the above. Honestly, he could pay you nothing and you would still jump at the opportunity to sleep with him. You shuttered a little thinking of the sex simply put it was amazing.

Some basic rules were gently inforced. 1. You or have the right to end it at any time 2. Stressed the fact that this was an exclusive relationship. Light rules but Chan was very laidback.

Currently, you were in a store way too expensive well use to be way too expensive picking out a dress that would look good for this event with Chan. "This one," you hummed walking out in a cream-colored dress. It hugged your ass but the color was sort of off-putting.

Chan sitting on the seat in the private dress area leaning back his hair messy and untamed with a touch of curls. Your fingers always itched to touch those curly locks.

"I don't love it," he hummed eyeing you up and down. "Just the color it looks amazing on you though," he grinned. Sitting next to a pile of dresses that you both didn't like very much.

You frown this was the fifth dress you've tried but to be honest you didn't love it that much either.

"Okay I have a few more," you bit your lip as you went back to the dressing room. The event was tomorrow night performance of some underground rappers and Chan said he might perform with 3racha if he had time. Being on his arm for this event was important.

You shyly claiming you didn't have many dresses for something like that.

Sipping into the dress that caught your eye the most a deep rose gold dress with just a touch of sparkle. Eyeing yourself you smiled at how the dress fit you the price tag with the glaring 1k on the tag.

Slipping out the dressing room your gazed landed on Chan his eyes ran up and down your body. "Wow," he whispered out getting up to inspect the dress. "Do you like it," he asked placing his hand on your hip.

"I love it," you paused eyeing you and Chan in the mirror admiring how you looked and how he looked next to you. His eyes glazed with lust. "It's pricy though," you hummed looking at the price.

Chan leaned over kissing your temple "you know I'll buy it for you," he grinned pushing his hips closer to you.

"You spoil me," you hummed posing lightly in the mirror. It complimented your skin the way it fell made you feel utterly amazing.

"You look beautiful," he said pressing his body against yours. His chin resting atop your head as he stared at your dress in the mirror. You giggled at the reflection. He looked at you with an admiring lust-filled look. You perked up when you felt his bulge pressing against your ass.

Glancing at him through the mirror his deep brown eyes basically told you what he wanted. You've had sex with Chan before and to say the least you would fuck this man for free. You were just lucky enough he was paying your tuition with a sweet payday every other Friday.

You pushed your ass into him feeling his eagerness waiting for you. "We shouldn't," you hummed glancing at him. Leaning over he hummed his lips connecting with your neck. You sighed at the kisses leaning away for more access.

"We just need to be quiet," he whispered in your ear. Grabbing your hand he lead you to the small bench settling you on his lap.

His lips captured yours hungrily your mouths moved in a gentle rhythm. Pulling away Chan looked at you grabbing your exposed thigh placing you across his jeans. "Come on baby we don't want to wrinkle this beautiful dress up," he said pushing the dress up.

A small mew slipped out of you at the feeling of Chan lightly bouncing his leg. Wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself you moaned as he added more pressure to your clothed slit.

Your body was heating up at the feeling "come on baby girl," Chan whispered in your ear. Biting your lip you squeezed your eyes closed feeling your stomach twisting at the sensation. God, he got you off so good your mind raced with want.

Clenching your thighs around his you gave a soft moan as you rocked against his leg. The lewd act of humping his leg made your stomach twist with want.

Chan let out a light chuckle you gave him a small embarrassed glare at your current position. "Don't pout you look adorable," he gave a small smirk. "We better finish this off before we are found," he grinned as he proceeded to bounce his leg.

You were already damp as it seeped into Chan's black jeans. Pushing your head into his neck you let out small whimpers as you got closer to the edge. Ready to fall any moment but Chan holding you so tight you never wanted to let go. Pushing down on his thigh you gave a deep moan as you desperately humped his leg.

Leaning over you placed your lips moaning in the kiss. Your eyes twisted shut as waves of heat rolled down your body.

Chan pressed his lips hard against you as you sloppy kissed him. You came down from your high it took a moment but you felt Chan hand run up and down your back.

Biting your lip you gazed up at him giving him a light smile "we should get out of here," you hummed pushing your dress back down and getting up,

You lightly grimaced at his leg with had a decent size wet mark on them. "Fuck sorry," you said also eyeing his bulge.

He hummed grabbing your hand "don't worry about it lets just buy the dress and go back to my place," giving you a wink.

Your stomach stirred thinking of going to his house with him laying in his bed as he pushed your deep into his sheets "Let's," you grinned eagerly.

"How does it look," you asked your roommate coming from your room in the dress you bought last week. It took a dry clean to get the smell of sex from the dress but it still looked clean and new.

Her gaze went from her phone taking a double-take at your dress. "Look at you in that dress," she hummed. Smiling you gave a small twirl the gold shimmering.

"I know I love it so much," you hummed going to the mirror to check your makeup and hair.

"So Y/n how's Chan," she said leaning on the couch her eyebrow raised at you.

"He's good he's taking me to a club tonight," you said.

She nodded "so you don't have feelings for him or anything right," she hummed out looking at you.

Pausing you stared at your eye makeup looking at her through the mirror image you felt your heart leap "of course not he pays me," you told her.

"Yeah I mean your college semester is almost over when will you break it off," she asked. You paused wondering if you would. You did get mostly what you wanted. Clothing, money, your schooling has been paid up to last semester. The thought of breaking it with Chan made your stomach drop.

Before you could answer you heard your phone ring. Grinning you picked it up avoiding your roommates grilling question.

"Hey baby are you ready," Chan spoke.

Glancing at your makeup and outfit you looked good. Shyly remembering what you did in this dress earlier that week. "Yeah I'm good," you hummed out.

"Great I'm downstairs," he said.

"Okay bye," you said clicking off the phone.

Your roommate was still looking at you "you're like into into him," she commented.

"I'm into his money," you easily lied to yourself. The money was great the clothing, the tuition all was amazing. But Chan as a person he was the best of all the gifts. Repressing these growing thoughts was the best you could do.

"Sure you are," she said pulling out up her Netflix. "Just let me know when you move into with him so I can find a new roommate," she teased.

Rolling your eyes you stuck out your tongue  "will do but won't happen," you said leaving.

"Have a nice night," she called out.

"Thanks," you yelled back leaving. Your stomach turned excited to see Chan. Hurrying downstairs you quickly came outside to see Chan leaning on the side of his car. You eyed him loving his outfit.

"Hey," you grinned going to him wrapping your arms around his neck. Your eyes held his from the told of his dirty blond hair to the way he had a smile chain around his neck and his signature black style.

"Aw you missed me," he grinned a small dimple popping out.

"Always," you flirted back.

Giving you a quick peck he opened the door for you. The drive to the small club was nice his hand firmly on your thigh as he navigated the roads driving up to the club.

"You'll meet some of my friends just fellow producers," he explained. The word date stuck to your brain well you were his date. The words girlfriend would be amazing to hear out his mouth.

"Do your friends have any sugar babies," you asked out the blue. Remembering he told you months ago some of his friends use the site.

He pursed his lips "some do some have two or more," he explained closing the door on the side parking.

Taking his arm nerves bubbled up in your stomach as you entered the low lit club. It was loud with live music on the stage was a male he had dark black hair with deep black makeup and he was rapping.

"That's Jisung he's a close friend and producer," Chan said leading you toward the back. The club was lowkey as people enjoyed the fast rapper on the stage.

"He's really good," you called out to Chan.

He nodded "yeah we are underground rappers are normally producers but we like to stay out of the limelight," he added. "I'll be on stage in a bit hope you'll cheer for me," he grinned.

"Always," you grinned. Sipping on the drink you were introduced to lots of people Felix an upcoming solo artist in the company.

"Time to get on stage baby girl," Chan hummed giving you a light kiss on your lips. His eyes lingered on you for a moment "After my set will get outta here," he said.

"Sounds good," you replied.

Felix stayed next to you as you two chatted while Chan was in the back. "Yeah, Chan told me a lot about you."

You nodded "can I ask about," you asked curiously.

Felix nodded his head "just you're really good for him is what I'm going to say," he explained.

Before you knew it the lights went down once again as Chan got on stage with Jisung and another male "who's that," you asked Felix.

"That's Changbin he is just an underground rapper Chan likes to promote with they call themselves 3racha," he explained.

You watched Chan on stage it was like he was a natural. His smile lit the stage his outfit clean making him look fashionable and handsome. That messy hair was darkening.

Your heart speeds up as you watched his performance him bouncing on stage, the way he hyped up the crowd and his fellow rappers.

Chan never really talked about the performing aspect of this. You were transfixed on the performance the lyrics, his movements it was all amazing. Then cheers filled your ears Chan had a small layer of sweat on his forehead "thank you for coming everyone we have so many new acts tonight please keep a lookout for them," he yelled in the mic.

"They were amazing," you said excitedly.

"Yeah, I love watching them perform," Felix agreed. "It doesn't happen often but when it does it's always great," he praised his friends.

Soon after Chan came back to the table with Jisung and Changbin behind him. A layer of sweat on all of them. "Guys I want you to meet Y/n," he said. "My girlfriend," he said glancing at you for a second.

Your eyes widen at the work girlfriend but decided to act cool "um Hi guys I love your music Chan's showed me some samples," you said.

"Ah thank you so much welcome to our little circle Chan's been meaning to introduce us to you," Jisung said giving a wide smile.

"Has he well my boyfriend is so mean not introducing me to his friends sooner," you side-eyed Chan. You felt Chan wrap his arm around your waist.

"Well we should all get together for some food soon," Felix added.

"That would be great," Chan said slipping his arm around your waist. "Sorry to be rude me and Y/n have to dip," Chan said. Giving his friends a few fist bumps he pulled you out the dark club soon after.

The cool night hit you giving you some much-needed space to breathe. "So Chan girlfriend," you quirked an eyebrow stepping away from his. Your insides turned at the word.

"I'm sorry that just slipped out," he spoke quickly apologizing, a red from the tips of his ears to his cheeks maybe from performing but it made him look different. Vulnerable to you like a confession. "I meant it I'll admit it," he added.

There was a pause as you looked at him and he looked at you. Before you knew it your lips were on his. His plush lips felt so good your heart beating rapidly at his confession and you think you got your answer across. He wrapped his arms around your waist pressing deeply into the kiss.

Pulling apart you gazed up at him he had a handsome smirk on his face. "your place," you bite your lip.

He hummed "I gotta hear it one time," he raised an eyebrow.

"Can my handsome boyfriend take me to his place," you admitted your arms thrown around his neck.

Grabbing his keys he and you hurried to his car. You praised his performance as you rode to his place. His hand now firmly placed entwined in your hand.

Stumbling into his condo you and his lips were attached to one another. Closing the door behind him you giggled as his hand slide through your once neatly curled hair now messy from the night.

Grabbing your hand you lead him to his bedroom it had deep blacks and grey al round. Your lips met in a messy haze of lust.

"Fuck you do things to me," Chan whispered pulling his lips away from you. His fluffy hair was now matted to his forehead attractively from his performance those brown eyes of his blazing with want.  

Sitting on his bed eyeing you from the high ground. "Look what you've done," he chuckled out touching himself. Your fingers itched to unzip him and help him.

"Can I," you asked reaching for his zipper.

"Ask properly," he leaned his hands behind him his hooded eyes stared you down.

"Please daddy," you whined out  On your knees, you unbuttoned his pants revealing Calvin Klein's you loved so much. When you got a peek of those they really set you off.

Slowly touching the hard outline you licked your lips in concentration as you teased him from the base circling around the tip feeling he was wet.

"Fucking hell Y/n," his hips involuntary jerked up to your touch. Your fingers raised under his black tee feeling his solid abs under your fingers tips.

"I love your body," you hummed feeling his stomach circling little shapes right above his waistline.

"Yeah," he stared down at you with hunger loving the praise that you gave him. Something you learned early about Chan is praise could get you a long way. Your nails dragged down his abs loving the feeling of them under your fingertips.

Pulling him out you admired his length. You gave his slick head a small kiss as you gently bobbed.

Chan lifted his hips letting you slip more into his mouth. "Fuck," he moaned as he started to hit the back of your throat.

"Relax your throat Y/n," he said gently brushing your hair. Chan gently rolled his hips deeper in as you relaxed your throat. You lightly choked on it pulling off quickly. You blushed realizing even with the training you couldn't take him very far.

"Sorry," you flushed embarrassed you couldn't even deep throat him.

Pulling you onto the bed Chan's eyes were gentle and lustful. He lightly patted your head lovely "you got better," he hummed. Grabbing your wrist he gently took it placing gentle kisses across your wrist. He stared at you with a smoldering look of want.

Leaning down his mouth attacked your neck you felt so close to him you could hear his heart race just like yours. His dick hard against your thigh so close to your entrance.

"Chan I need you," you moaned in his ear as he left wet kisses across his neck.

Pushing your dress up his fingers went to your panties taking them off "where do you need me," he groaned. His finger went across your slit petting you lightly.

"Right there," you moaned body heating up from the petting. He pulled your hips so close to him "please chan," you hummed desperate him to fill you.

He gave a cheeky smile "no need to beg," his Australian accent deep and thick. He grabbed your leg hiking you up. Hooking your leg around his hip as he entered you. The feeling of him stretching you making you wince as you took him between your folds.

"Ah fuck," he cursed out his face twisting into pleasure. His nose scrunched up in pleasure as his hips rocked into you.

Pushing your head into the pillow you let out mews of pleasure as he gave gentle thrust. The closeness of him in you made your head twirl. "Harder," you panted feeling him almost hitting that sweet spot.  

You felt his hips pace start to pick up as he went deeper. "Ah," you moaned out feeling the tingle of an oncoming orgasm come. You pushed the feeling down trying to savor the feeling of the pleasure.

Looking up at Chan his mouth slightly slacked as he focused on his thrusts fuck he was handsome you thought. A vulnerable look of want and pleasure twisted on his face.

He looked down at you a small smile lit on his lips "you look hot on your back for me." His words made your stomach twist with want and love.

"May I," he hummed his fingers wrapping around your neck. Your stomach tingled with want something about choking made you excited.

"Please," you begged.

Wrapping his hand on the side of your throat made you lick your lip making your head dizzy. Honestly, you didn't know you had a choking kink until Chan introduced you to it.

"Thank you, daddy," you hummed loving the way he pressed lightly on your throat his thumb gently tracing your windpipe. His thrust hit hard as he tightens his hold restricting your breathing.  

"Your welcome baby," he said thrusting into you deeper. Lifting into him you enjoyed the way his body pressed into you.

"I'm close," you moaned out feeling him hit that spot over and over making your eyes roll back.

"Hold your breath baby," he said tightening his hold. His pace got faster as he chased his own orgasm small groans left his lips lovely. "Fuck," he moaned "You feel so good," you moan feeling the sudden warmth of his cum spurt out. The warmth of it pushed you over the edge.

Clutching your leg behind his back black and white spots filled your vision. Chan let out sensual groans as he came down from his high. His hand released your neck as he went to pet your hair. 

Shifting your leg you felt him pull out of you. You bite your lip smiling at the feeling of him pulling you close. 

“Fuck,” he moaned taking off his shirt laying on the silk sheets. You turned to him a grin on his face. 

Wrapping his arm around your midsection he curled up to you. “Chan you smell like sweat,” you whined at the smell. 

“You know you love it,” he grinned as you pushed your face into his curly hair. 

“Mmmhh,” you hummed feeling him pet your head as his fingers up and down your body.