#but yeah one time someone gave him a very expensive watch because apparently in his own way he's like the father of the oil field

[cluethegirl]

There is an art to looking and appearing rich as shit in public, like the type of rich that does not care about the looks, and I seem to nail it. here are the instructions:

ok thanks that's all

[daylander1000]

Will you watch season 2 of HotD or you've lost interest in the show? I wasn't thrilled with season 1, but I do like some characters and I'm curious to see if they'll do them any justice in the next season(s). I'm still trying to be optimistic (which is definitely against my nature 😁), although the latest leaks from Spain (which I desperately hope to be false) doesn't sound promising.

Idk it you read Fire & Blood, but that book is often overrated imho, almost all the characters there are painfully one-dimensional, shallow and bland, while the plot is full of illogical things (especially the Dance part) . So, as you can see, I'm not the biggest book fan, and I do believe that the show did some things better and gave a bit of depth and complexity to certain characters and fleshed them out. However, at the same time it seems to me that they didn't complete what they started, like, you see the potential of the characters and understand their motivations, but then out of the blue they do or say something totally nonsensical and OOC. Take Alicent at the end of episode 8. Rhaenyra says something nice to her and she suddenly forgives everything and forgets that's the same woman who wanted to "sharply question" Aemond after her son Luke maimed him over an insult (a fact, actually), the woman her husband always favoured at the expense of Alicent's own children and finally, the woman who is married to Daemon, the sociopath who hates Alicent and her children and who will kill anyone (and apparently with Rhaenyra and Viserys' blessing) without remorse if it benefits him and his side. I mean, the guy even had the gall to look annoyed during the prayer for Vaemond. Still, according to the show, Alicent somehow needs to "misunderstand" Viserys' last words to crown her own son, and not because it's probably the only way to keep her and her children alive and safe and because her son actually has the strongest claim to the throne according to Westerosi laws avd tradition. And don't get me started on the Velaryons who are collectively depicted as "Dae and Rhae fan club". Like, what is Corlys even thinking?! I won't ask about Baela and Rhaena because they obviously don't get to think and are just unconditionally supportive of Rhaenyra and the Strong boys. Rhaenys is contradictory and inconsistent. It's frustrating, really. Also, the fact that the narrative/the framing of the show heavily favours team black is also off-putting. Nevertheless, I'm still curious and just a bit hopeful that season 2 will balance these things a little. Maybe I'll just be terribly disappointed, but oh well. Sorry for the rant :D

Anyway, as a fan of your fic, I would like to know your opinion. Does the show deserve our optimism and what are your predictions regarding season 2?

S2 predictions? 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Why would you ask me this? This is a show where someone in a professional HBO writers room said, "So what if a dragon just bursts up from the underground?" And the showrunner was like "Fuck yeah!"

I don't think they even thought to do a camera pan of the carnage. It's like they wanted to make Rhaenys look badass but did a Koolaid Man scene instead.

Tell me that this isn't Rhaenys

Predictions? This is not Leftovers where you could do a whole video essay on foreshadowing and subtext and hidden clues. This is a series where there's a horse running loose in a writer's room and nobody knows what it's going to write next.

This is the most bizarre thing I've ever seen.

My prediction for S2 is that during the time off at least one person realizes that they failed to make Aegon into Joff 2.0, that instead of having him be affably evil, he's onscreen affable and offscreen evil, and they'll try to double down on actually showing that he's evil and actually showing that he's worse than Daemon and Rhaenyra.

We've seen Daemon in brothels, grooming and marrying children, killing Rhea, killing innocent people and murdering lords at court, but we've only been told (by very minor characters) that Aegon is a baby-eating rape monster. It's all extremely "tacked-on."

I think Aegon's the biggest problem that they have to work on. Just getting at least this one character to make sense moving forward.

When Jahaerys is killed, I think they'll use that to really commit to making him the bad guy. Like he'll have to be killing a baby or raping someone or eating someone so that it's not Rhaenyra and Daemon killing a child but "Look at what this bad man was doing instead of protecting his son."

As far as predictions go, that's all I can see. If they only develop one character in S2, it needs to be him. Rhaenyra has Rockstar!Daemon, Rhaenys and Corlys on her side, so they'll have to upscale the green threat otherwise it's a bunch of grown people and veteran soldiers fighting two children who have no experience at anything because the oldest one is a 20-year-old frat boy and his brother is still a teenager. Aegon's going to have to really be villainous.

I feel like there's a reason all his nude scenes are with his mother, it's one of the few consistent things between them through the time skips and actor changes, and I feel like they're going to go fully 500% in that Commodus direction

and have him just be creepy and rapey with her in a "bad incest," how-the-turntables, "be careful what you wish for" way. Alicent's defining trait seems to be "perpetual victim," so I feel like they'll go this way and frame it as if she's getting what she deserves for slapping him around. Ten extra points if they have Rhaenyra or Rhaenys there on hand to be like "Is this your king?"

I don't see them doing anything with Rhaena besides sending her away, and I actively don't want to see Baela going out there getting her dragon killed and her face burnt off in defense of Rhaenyra.

I honestly try to not think about s2 of this.

I was a hardcore asoiaf fan but I didn't like Feast or Dance. I read Dunk and Egg, but he didn't finish that either. And when F&B came out, I got the audiobook and I listened to it for a few hours, probably less than five, and I couldn't concentrate because I kept thinking "Did this bitch seriously package his story notes as a novel for sale??? This is an insult to storytelling."

And I deleted it.

It's the quality for one thing. It's the lack of diversity, it's the author not finishing anything, it's the fandom being 20% fantasy fans, 80% trump rally...

Like, in just 10 episodes HotD has managed to give a voice to pro-rape feminists. Didn't even know that was a thing until I saw it on Twitter.

I saw some of the leaked pics of Helaena at the funeral on my feed, didn't have to scroll far to see people just casually r-wording Helaena and acting like having six fingers is a killing offense since eugenics rhetoric is apparently thriving in this fandom.

And on top of all that, the story doesn't even make sense.

I don't want to be like "dramaturgically speaking" but narrative coherence is a thing. Just from bing chat (yes, I'm using bing 😣):

Narrative coherence is the degree to which a story makes sense. Coherent stories are internally consistent, with sufficient detail, strong characters, and free of significant surprises. The ability to assess coherence is learned and improves with experience. Individuals assess a story's adherence by comparing it with similar stories. The ultimate test of narrative sense is whether the characters act reliably. If figures show continuity throughout their thoughts, motives, and actions, acceptance increases. However, characters behaving uncharacteristically destroy acceptance.

This show has curb-stomped narrative coherence.

Like, take that scene where they killed Vaemond. The way they write it, Rhaenyra has come back after 6 years of never visiting her father to drag him off his deathbed so he can support her in taking Driftmark, the seat of house Velaryon, away from Velaryon people to give it to her son by Harwin Strong. Vaemond is killed for telling the truth.

With different lighting and music, that's peak tyranny. That's some Mad King Aerys shit. In full view of all the lords at court. Every single person in that courtroom is aware that Luke is a bastard and they've just witnessed a lord like themselves get beheaded over it. This isn't Daemon killing commoners. He's killing the lords and ladies of Westeros.

But there's no fallout. Nothing. All the lords of Westeros cease to matter. It's just another Tuesday to them.

Hell, they go even further and frame the scene like Viserys is Old Theoden fighting off the curse of Wormtongue. Otto, Alicent and her goblin children all but shrivel and wither from the sunlight that Rhaenyra brings as Vaemond is cut down by noble Daemon. In that scene, Dark Sister might as well be Andúril, Flame of Old Valyria, sword of justice.

There are shows that are easy to watch that we say are "no brain cells required," but HotD is like, "No brain cells allowed. Switch them off or put them on silent so you don't disturb anyone."

I have no hope for season 2. I would never rec this to anyone or say that I think the writing will improve. The foundation is shit. You can't build a strong s2 on a shit s1 unless you're writing a procedural or an anthology where nothing that comes before matters.

You can't undo things like Alicent supporting Aegon as king because of a misunderstanding. There's a limit to how many things you can retcon without destroying all sense of continuity and they've already gone beyond that in s1.

They're past plot holes. They have whole parts of the world that are just void of all thought. Alicent and Rhaenys are characters who respawn and disintegrate from scene to scene as needed. Corlys is three lines of dialogue in a trenchcoat. Daemon Targaryen is somehow, impossibly, a less-developed Damon Salvatore.

No optimism here.

I'm that jaded ex fan who's like, "hotd is a barren wasteland, riddled with racists, ableists and toxic stans, and those are just the writers. The very fandom air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten-thousand Lindelof-level writers could they fix this shit."

But that being said, I have a really bad habit of watching shit TV.

I've seen Catwoman more than 5 times.

Waterworld, Jonah Hex, Elektra, Daredevil (Ben Affleck and Colin Farrell), Battlefield Earth, Supernova. At least 8 of the Fast movies. All the Transformers. Dracula 2000. All the old school classics of bad cinema.

I haven't watched Morbius as yet and the only reason why is because I feel like Jared Leto is intentionally trying to become Nicholas Cage and I don't want to support that.

There is something about the cringe that hooks me. And with a TV series? That weekly cringe? That is peak entertainment.

It used to take me 4 sometimes 5 hours to watch and digest a single episode of Titans because there were so many questions to think about.

I hyperfixate on bad writing. Trying to figure out all the ways it went wrong and why and what they were trying to do. Once I start, I can't stop thinking about it. I'm hoping swhhw gets it out of my system, but I don't know.

Like, anybody can make good TV. Anybody can do that if you try hard enough. But truly horrible TV isn't supposed to exist. It's like 20 million an episode to make HotD? Nobody is supposed to invest that in a show where the showrunner doesn't even know how old the characters are. Bad TV shows are supposed to be snuffed out before they see the light of day.

But HotD is something special.

You don't accidentally end up with a Koolaid Dragon busting up through concrete. A director described that scene to a VFX crew. The actors had to rehearse that repeatedly. They had to do a read-through...

Like, just think about that.

And then they announce that they're going ahead with s2 without writers?!

That is insane. Part of me says look away, and the other part of me says that s2 of HotD will be something the likes of which I'll never see again.

I really don't want to watch S2, but honestly, I might. Not because I think it will be better but because I'm dead certain it can only get worse.

[mod-kyoko]

Nice to have you back! Hope you had a Merry Christmas.

I’d like to Humbly request Celeste, Ibuki, and Mikan’s reaction to witnessing their S/O knocking out 12 people in a bar fight and getting out with very little injuries

tysm anon! i had an amazing Christmas. hope yours was the same.

i do like this request hehe

celeste, ibuki, mikan x s/o in a bar fight??

the bar celeste liked to drag you to was usually civil

it's was mostly older men who came to gamble and drink

totally something you would expect from celeste

because of the more mature audience, you never really witnessed any fights in this particular bar

in fact, it was the one bar in this town that actually provided stress relief

so one day, when you heard yelling, it was very confusing

turns out, a frat had come in thinking this was the kind of bar for the younger audiences who tend to get more rowdy

they had gotten to loud while drinking, and an employee had to ask them to quiet down

you were in the middle of a game of poker with celeste and a few other adults when the first punch was thrown

all heads turned toward the frat boys, who were now arguing with each other

the poor employees stood by not knowing what to do, no one ever fought in this bar

you looked over to celeste to see her sighing and tapping her fingers on the table impatiently

you wanted to get rid of this disruption for her so you could keep playing

so you stood up, walked calmly over to one of the boys, and rested your hand on his shoulder

"hey, guys, let's settle down, yeah? i think you all should leave now."

this only set them off even more

they were all clearly drunk off their asses, so you weren't surprised that when one of them swung at you, he lost his balance

"come on guys, is this really how you want this night to go?"

you had to pretend to be annoyed, of course, but a smirk was tugging at the corner of your lips

after the humiliation the guy suffered from missing his shot at you, you thought he would walk away, but he wasn't done

this time he charged at you with his whole body, which was a dumb idea considering how easy it was for you to just take him by the shoulders and slam him onto the ground

apparently he was too drunk to get up, so his buddies started coming at his defense

one by one, you gave them all the same bloody treatment, and when it was all over, simply walked back over to your empty seat and sat back down

"let's get back to it, guys."

she hid it with her fan, but celeste was clearly blushing

as much as she likes to keep a poker face, watching you take down those lame frat guys made her feel something she couldn't hide

when she was finally able to calm herself down, she put the tip of her finger under your chin, looking down at you with flirty eyes and a sly smile

"thank you for dealing with that mess, dear. it was incredibly irritating."

you know how rowdy ibuki can get, it was bound to ruffle a few feathers

one time at a bar, she got a little too rambunctious and ended up knocking someone over, spilling food and alcohol all over his expensive jacket

he reached for her collar, screaming profanities at her, but before he could even lay a finger on her you were already between them

"bad idea, man," you pressed your hand to his chest

"that bitch just ruined my fucking jacket! you know how long it took me to save up for this thing?"

"you didn't even give her a chance to apologize!"you yelled back, but it was no use, he was drunk and angry

he called out some name, and a bigger guy appeared seemingly out of nowhere

after that, a few other guys noticed the ruckus and came to watch

with a sigh, you shove the guy away from ibuki, who at this point was starting to fear you getting hurt

"Uh, haha, let's just go, s/o..." She laughed awkwardly, but this guy was not done with you

you barely turned around in time to see him throw a punch

fortunately it just grazed your cheek

you retaliate by grabbing his arm and twisting it until he begged you to let go

a smile appeared on your face when he ran to hide behind his bigger friend

but now, he was yelling at his companion to go after you

"aw, geez, this is gonna get annoying..."

you vaguely hear ibuki shouting at you, but this time it sounds more like encouragement

you swear you heard her say "beat his ass!"

before you knew it the big guy was charging you

all you had to do was simply dodge, though, he might have been big but he seemed really stupid

instead of running into you, he ran into some other dude behind you, who then joined the fight

you felt someone behind you grab your collar

soon enough, that guy was on the ground with your elbow digging into his chest

by the time you were done, glass had been shattered, tables were broken, everything was wet with soggy food and drinks, even a little bit of blood

ibuki grabbed you by the arm and dragged you out of the bar just as you started hearing police sirens

once in the safe comfort of your own home is when she started yelling again

"s/o that was so cool! i mean i was totally scared but you really showed them didn't you?? but don't ever do that again it was sooo scary" she heaved, dramatically waving her hands around in the air

to shut her up, you pulled her into a hug

she took a whiff of you. you smelled like alcohol and sweat, but it didn't matter to her

"you're a goof," she giggled, pressing a kiss to your cheek

you had finally convinced mikan to leave her comfort zone and take a trip to the bar with you

a couple drinks seemed to loosen her up, and she was actually enjoying herself by the end of the night

but, all good things have to come to an end

you heard the table next to you getting heated all night, but you thought it was just friendly squabble

but then, one of those "friends" tried to slap the other, but while he was winding his arm back he smacked mikan in the head

she squealed, covering her head with her hands and sinking down in her seat

the second you saw her fearful eyes looking up at you, you were it of your seat

you jumped over the booth, grabbing a fistful of his shirt

"who the fuck are you? get off me!" He yelled, raising his fist

mikan was fully sobbing at this point, begging the man not to hurt you

you watched her stand up and grab his arm, but he shook her off so hard she fell back on the ground

this was your last straw

before he could see it coming, you threw a punch to his jaw, leaving a stinging sensation in your knuckles

with a grunt, you shoved him to the ground and turned around to find one of his friends tugging at your pant leg

of course his buddies had to come to his rescue

you delivered a swift kick to his gut, and he was out of commission

the rest of his friends tried to get their way to you, but couldn't even lay a hand on you before you took them down

after you finished off the last one, you picked mikan up off the ground

she was hysterical now, and didn't even recognize that it was you holding her

you carried her in your arms all the way home, where she finally began to settle down

"i'm so sorry, i shouldn't have been so persistent about going with me, it's not your scene" you apologized to her after laying her on the couch

she opened her eyes, sniffling

"please don't ever do that again" she cried, clutching onto your shirt

♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

it was so hard to come up with 3 diverse situations for the same prompt but i did it augh

thanks again for the request my friend

-mod kyoko

[kaelsleftverdantsphere]

Modern AU Kalecgos x Khadgar because I love them

More of a crackfic but whatever

<><><><><><><><><>

The two men were seated at a beautiful café, one of them slowly sipping his coffee, looking at the other, who was somewhat restless for some reason.

"Are you alright?" Khadgar asked. "Are you feeling unwell?"

"Huh? No! No, not at all.... not by any chance, I- I'm fine." The bluenette gave him a second of eye contact before looking out of the window once again.

"What is it? You know you can tell me..."

He took a long breath. "It's just that... I haven't been on a date that went well... Like ever. In my life."

"That went well? What do you mean? Does someone always die at the end? Should I be worried?" He chuckled in an attempt to lighten up the mood.

"Well..." He took a sip from his tea cup. "My first date was with this one girl in highschool. And I got the most beautiful flowers I could afford, went to her house... And I was so nervous I-" He stopped for a second, giggling softly. "I threw up on her."

"You did what?" He examined the half-elf infront of him, never expecting such a sentence to come out of him.

"You heard me..."

He started laughing. "And that is, precisely, what I love about you!"

"The fact I get so nervous my insides decide the best course of action is to get rid of the nerves by scaring the source?"

"Yes!"

"And then the next date I had, in uni this time, was in this pretty bar in the city centre... And this time I didn't vomit on anyone... or anything..."

"Uh-uh?" He nodded, smiling.

"It was alright while we weren't drinking alcohol. I was funny, talkative, I told them EVERYTHING about Ravasaurs, I might've even thrown some pick-up lines in there! But then we started drinking... And then I remember waking up in just my shirt-"

"Oh my- that's spicy-"

"It's not, -shirt and pants, my watch and all the other expensive stuff was gone..."

"Ooooooh... that's not very pleasant."

"Yeah." He brushed back his hair. "But that's not all! The last date I went to was a date with a girl who's parents apparently need to meet every man she likes... And so I went to their house for dinner. And somehow set, the most expensive table cloth I've ever seen, on fire."

"Oh wow, what happened after?"

"I climbed out of the bathroom window and ran home."

"Kalecgos!" He laughed.

"What? I was pretty sure her father would kill me if I went out the door."

"So... do you feel less nervous now?" He smiled and reached his hand over the table.

Kalecgos looked into his eyes, reaching out as well, holding the other man's hand. "Not sure, maybe I'll set a table cloth on fire again..."

[sweatygrealish]

just a dream (jack grealish x reader)

word count: 1612

warnings: bit angsty. 

sorry for any mistakes, I finished this along with a bottle of wine :)

*

He was sitting opposite you in the living-room, nervously fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt. It was an absolutely odd thing for him to do, and it worried you.

“I need to tell you something,” he began, not being able to look you in the eye. You needed him to say it, as soon as possible, so the emotion that was nearly choking you to unconsciousness could finally break free from your throat.

“What is it, Jack?” You demanded to know, your voice thick with impatience and fear. It was nearly unbearable.

“I slept with someone else.”

There it was. What had been hovering above your relationship for quite a few weeks now was out. It sat there, comfortably, between you and your long term boyfriend of five years, staring at you with a dead serious, almost threatening stare.

“So you don’t love me anymore.” You stated a fact. It wasn’t a question, nor an assumption, just a simple fucking fact.

Jack’s face lost all its colour. His open mouth closed and opened again, you could see him swallow hardly, his Adams apple bobbing up and down.

“Of course I love you, baby. That hasn’t changed, I-“ he tried to continue but you cut him off.

“No, Jack. You don’t. You don’t do something like this to someone you love.” You rose from your seat, noticing how weird your body felt, how much every fibre of your soul was hurting. Almost, your knees gave in, gave up carrying your body’s weight, the weight of your pain. Jack stood up with you, reaching out for your hands, but you were quick to withdraw them.

You walked a few steps back to the living-room door which led to the hall. With trembling hands you got a hold of the baseball bat which you always kept hidden behind the curtain, in case of a burglary when Jack was away. Jack watched with wide, incredulous eyes when you lunged out, aiming for the way too big and expensive TV he always spent too much time in front of anyway.

Shooting Jack one last glance,

you woke up.

Lying on your back, your pyjama and the bed sheets were clinging to your sweaty skin. You could literally see your heartbeat hammering through your chest so furiously it nearly hurt.

You were hurt. Hurt by the man sleeping soundly next to you with his warm hand resting on your belly. His mouth hung slightly open and his eyelashes fluttered delicately with the subtle movements of his eyes beneath closed lids.

6:32 am.

You gulped painfully. Your mouth was dry.

Carefully not to wake your boyfriend, you sneaked out of bed and grabbed a cardigan from the chair next to your dresser, tiptoeing out of the room. You knew Jack’s alarm clock would go off at eight, that gave you 90 minutes to pull yourself together. Of course you didn’t want to let a stupid dream ruin your day.

Upon going downstairs, you couldn’t ignore the urge to check the living-room in order to see if the TV was okay. It was fine. Everything was fine. You kept repeating the sentence inside your head like a mantra before brewing yourself a cup of tea.

Jack opened his eyes just two minutes before his alarm would wake him up. He grumbled something before discovering your empty, cold half of the bed. He sat up and frowned- you were usually up before him but most of the time, especially on a Saturday, he would wake up to you reading a book or checking your phone.

His gruff morning voice called out your name but no response came. Jack sighed and shuffled into the bathroom to get ready, hoping to find you downstairs when he was finished.

He did. You were in the middle of making breakfast, the heavenly smell of eggs wafted through the hall when he entered the kitchen, smiling.

“G’mornin’ love.”

“Good morning,” you half smiled, letting him pull you into his side.

“You’re up early,” he pointed out as he gratefully accepted a cup of tea from you, adding, “didn’t sleep well?”

He really knew you like the back of his hand. There wasn’t a chance you could hide something from him.

“Just woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.” You couldn’t look at him any more, afraid to give away too many of your thoughts. Worrying him about something like a stupid nightmare wasn’t something you were keen on doing right before an important training session of his.

You noticed he wasn’t satisfied with your answer, so you quickly handed him a plate with eggs on toast before he could ask any further questions.

“Thanks, you’re the best,” he smiled before his soft lips brushed your cheek.

During breakfast you had the strange feeling he was eyeing you very carefully. You hardly looked up from your plate to avoid any awkward moments or questions. For the first time in years, you just wanted him to leave for training so you could manage sorting your thoughts and emotions. You weren’t able to do that when he was staring at you from across the dining table, probably wondering what the fuck was wrong with you.

He knew something was definitely wrong. He wasn’t stupid. Maybe he was lacking intelligence as in cognition and logic, conversely his emotional intelligence was impressively high. So when it was time for him to go, your pulse quickened inevitably once again.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jack searched your face for any kind of hint, a blink of an eye, a frown, a wrinkle. But you kept it under control, nodding and just swallowing everything instead of spitting it out. You were sure it would all go away eventually before he came home in the afternoon.

“Alright. See you later. Miss you already.” He pecked your lips, mouth lingering a little too long for such an innocent kiss, and briefly tapped your nose with his index finger.

“Yeah, enjoy training.” Your reply was half-hearted and both of you were aware. Jack smiled awkwardly and approached the door, unsure weather to assure himself once more that, apparently, nothing was wrong. He decided against it, waving one last time, before shutting the door behind him.

Training was tough. Jack checked the time unusually often along with his phone for a message from you. A life sign, any sign to soothe his nerves. But- nothing. It was just agonizing- being absolutely sure that something wasn’t quite right but being absolutely clueless about what it could be.

He couldn’t run as fast as he wanted, couldn’t kick the ball as hard as he wanted, couldn’t mess around with his team mates.

All he wanted was get home to you, engulf you in his arms for the entire night and stroke your hair.

Finally it was time to go home. Jack was annoyed that he had to run some errands before eventually getting home, time that separated him from you furthermore. Stupid errands like stopping for gas and picking up his suit from the dry cleaners.

His pulse was racing unusually fast at parking the car in the driveway. Because he didn’t know what to expect, a feeling of insecurity was spreading in his chest.

Jack opened the front door and found the house practically silent, and for a split second he wondered if you were even there. After having closed the door he was able to make out a sound from the kitchen that could’ve been music from the distance. In search of the source, he strode through the rooms until he reached the back garden. He spotted you huddled up in a blanket with a glass of wine in hand, staring into the distance.

“Hey.”

Your head turned towards him with a weak smile.

“Hey.”

“Can I join you?”

You simply nodded, making some space for him on the lounger. For a moment, you just sat there in silence.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly said, nearly whispered.

Jack looked at you, his eyes full of worry.

“I’m sorry for being so distant today. It wasn’t fair on you. I’ve had a nightmare last night. You told me that you’d slept with someone else.”

Your words were lingering in the air like puffed out cigarette smoke. Jack didn’t know what to do, all the things he wanted to say weren’t coming together into a proper sentence. So instead, he wrapped both his arms tightly around you and pulled you into him.

It was the best reaction to your “confession” you could’ve wished for. Sometimes, silence indeed spoke louder than words.

“You know I’d never do that to you. Don’t you?” Jack whispered after a while.

A single tear rolled down your cheek, landing on his hand, “I know.”

You were still looking straight ahead, feeling his burning gaze on your face, not yet able to face him fully.

“Nightmares suck,” Jack muttered against your temple, his thumb stroking circles on the back of your hand, “everything’s alright, love. I’m here for you.”

In that moment, you were so thankful for him, so so thankful. You broke free from his grasp slightly to look into his hopeful eyes. There was a sparkle in them, along with one particular emotion, so visible it was impossible to miss.

Love.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you this morning. I felt stupid.”

Jack’s big, strong hands framed your face as he knocked his forehead against yours.

“It’s fine.” As soon as the words had left his lips, he kissed you tenderly, gently sucking your bottom lip. Without hesitation you kissed him back, sighing deeply in happiness.

You really were so lucky to have him.

[rogue-durin-16]

UNSURPRISING

Summary: There were a few moments during Fred's friendship with Y/n's in which they were a bit too close to kissing. Then, there was that one time they did.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality

Warnings: language maybe, murder

A/N: this one was not scheduled for tonight but I wanted to cheer @meph1stophelian up because she deserves it, so enjoy your dose of Fred fluff <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Okay, Y/n," Ginny grabbed a pastry from the platter which we had stolen from the kitchen and that now laid on a small coffee table in the middle of the Room of Requirement. "truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to... Wait." She thought about it for a second before leaning on Luna to ask her something. "I dare you to kiss Fred."

"Uh-uh." Fred, who had just moved to the higher table where the drinks had been laid, was quick to respond, "Not happening." shortly after followed by me.

"I'm not doing that."

"You can't skip a dare!" Ron exclaimed outraged.

"I can if I'm over eight years old." I replied, leaning back on the couch with my arms crossed.

"What she said." Fred agreed, raising his glass at me before drinking.

"Since when do you two back out of a dare?" Ginny questioned with a frown.

"Since this girl here" he motioned at me "started dating Pucey."

"What?" Harry asked in shock. "Pucey? Pucey as in Adrian Pucey?"

"Yeah?" I replied.

"You and Pucey?" Hermione raised her brows and gave Ginny a confused look. "I don't quite see it."

"Oi, what's there to see? I'm the only one who has to see it, don't you think?" I responded, slightly annoyed. "And why is no one talking about this bloke's love life?" I pointed at Fred who now stood behind me. "He's dating that Hufflepuff girl too!"

He tsked his tongue. "Not anymore."

"That's... unsurprising." George commented.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fred questioned suspicious, kicking my leg for me to move aside so he could sit.

His twin snorted. "You know what's supposed to mean." He took a sip from his drink before nodding at Ginny. "C'mon Gin, change the dare— for Pucey's sake." George scanned us both with analyzing eyes before adding, "we don't want Y/n to end up ditching his boyfriend for this twit, now do we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"YEEEEH" I was already down on the arena, clapping, when Fred landed with a wide cocky grin on his face, his breathing ragged due to the match's intense last few minutes.

I had rushed down the moment the snitch was caught to be the first one to congratulate him, so I was quite breathless too.

"Did you see me up there? Saving the bloody match!" He exclaimed, tossing his broom and bat on the ground in order to catch me when I threw myself to him.

"You were brilliant oh my gosh!" I let out a surprised laugh. The match seemed pretty much lost until Fred's performance came into play. "Oi, don't let it go to your head!" I was quick to add, pulling away from his embrace.

"Y/n Y/l/n just said I'm brilliant," He stated, the grin not leaving his face. "it's definitely going to my head."

I groaned, letting my forehead fall against his chest. His heart was beating fast, but I blamed it on the adrenaline of the match.

But what was I supposed to blame on the way my own heartbeat picked up when his hand found the small of my back and casually pulled me a tad closer?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oi," I slid open the door's compartment and scanned it briefly before saying, "everything's full, do you mind—"

"Not at all." Fred rapidly answered, sitting up slightly but quickly returning to his laid back position after I had taken a seat by his side.

I had a brief exchange of words with George and Lee before silence fell upon us; it was quite unsual, yet understandable due to the exhaustion we had been put under during the last semester.

It was because of it that Lee fell asleep, shortly after followed by George. I took the chance to grab my book to avoid giving in to the sleep, though my reading was soon disturbed by Fred's foot tapping over the upholstery of the seat.

"What?" I questioned quietly, my brow quirked at him while my eyes peeked over the book.

"What are you reading?"

"Advanced Potion-Making— what do you want?"

"Rude." I rolled my eyes, making a smirk dance on his lips. He seemed to weigh what he was about to say. "I got you something for Christmas."

"Wait— you what?" He got up, ignoring my shock, and, stretching his hands to reach his bag, he pulled out a small package. "I— you—"

"Speechless, I see." He pointed out amused, handing me the package before plopping back down, his gaze trained on me. "C'mon, open it." His teeth trapped his lower lip in anticipation, and I felt how my blood started to pump violently through my veins before I unwrapped the present. "A little birdy told me you liked... What's it called? Chokers?" I could only nod, speechless at the delicate choker in my lap. "I mean, my hand would have been just as good but you can wear this one in public too."

My face flared up at his words and astonishment was replaced by the usual need to fuck that little bastard up. "I hate you."

"I'm kidding, love." He chuckled, tugging on his sleeves and nodding at the jewelry. "You like it?"

The softness in his gaze made my anger go away as I took another look at the choker. "I love it, but you didn't have to." I scrunched my nose. "it looks very—"

"If you say expensive I'll shove it up your arse so watch your tongue." He warned me, half jokingly and half serious.

"What a way of ruining a sweet gesture." I pointed out, feigning a pout.

"Don't worry, I'll make it sweet again, you'll see—" he pushed himself away from the wall and scooted closer to me, tending his palm. "Give it to me." I obeyed and shifted my position so I would have my back to him. His fingers moved my hair away before his hands carefully placed the strap of velvet around my throat and clasped it. "There." He whispered, putting my hair back in place.

I turned around again without any clue of what to tell him. "I-I'd have gotten you something—"

"Y/n, it's a gift, not a trade." He gave me a warm smile, one that anyone rarely got to see, and my face heated up once more. His eyes seemed to flicker to my lips just for an instant, but he soon averted them from me to check on our peers. "Don't tell them, I won't hear the end of it."

I too peeked at them before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on Fred's cheek. "Merry Christmas, Fred."

The little smile grew into a wide side grin while he casted his face down, fixing it on his hands. "Merry Christmas, Y/n."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was out after curfew, yes, but I wasn't doing anything bad, just visiting my friends in their common room; I only had to be careful and no one would notice me.

Or so I thought.

To my luck, while I was tiptoeing through one of the halls, none other than Fred Weasley bumped into me.

"Shit!" We both took a moment to observe one another. "Alright, sorry in advance." He apologised, taking a peek at the path he had taken before grabbing my hand and pulling me with him.

I didn't hesitate on running with me; I knew he had brought trouble directly to me, and if I didn't follow, I would get detention and, with Umbridge in control, I had to avoid that at all costs.

"Wait wait— Here!" He tapped what I assumed was a camouflaged door and pulled me inside before it could open completely.

We both reached for the door at the same time, shutting it as fast and quiet as possible and stepping back right in time to hear what I assumed was a part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad.

Fred was so close that I could feel his heavy breath tickling my neck while we stumbled back into the pitch black darkness of the narrow passage.

"Well, that was close." I commented, trying to keep my pants at bay; it was the only sound heard —our pants.

His hands left my biceps to presumably fall limply on his sides, but he didn't step back to put some space between us. I couldn't see anything, but I still turned around and instantly knew his eyes were trying to find mines, just like my fingertips attempted to intertwin with his.

It was a bad idea, but no one had to know; the lack of light in the secret passage would prevent anyone to witness it, even us.

No one would see it, I thought, trailing my fingers up his arm until I reached his cheek.

His own hand made its way to my waist, giving it a squeeze and pulling me to him.

I pushed him away as soon as we heard Filch's cat miaowing at the hidden door, followed by the erratic running of the caretaker.

Fred grunted in frustration. "C'mon!" He rushed me, taking my hand once more and running down the ginnel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were running breathless, hands held, casting spells left and right.

'Don't stop moving' Arthur had said when the part of the castle we were defending fell into the Dementors' claws.

One of the Carrow apparated a few feet ahead of us, sending a Cruciatus in our direction even before we came to a halt in our running.

Fred raised his wand, quick as lightning, shielding us from the curse, and I didn't miss a beat before hexing the death eater, hitting her right in the chest.

Fred spun around to guard my back from another death eater that stood behind us while I, seeing that the Carrow sister attempted to get up, casted another stunning spell at her, only that this time it hit her shield.

Both Fred and I duelled the two Voldemort's acolytes until we managed to take them out almost simultaneously, yet in very different ways.

"STUPEFY!" Fred yelled out loud to enhance the spell's effect.

I did the same, knowing I needed that extra push to take Carrow out only that my spell was way more harmful. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Fred turned around, still gripping my hand, to see the death eater's corpse on the floor. "Fuck!" He exclaimed.

"Was that a good 'fuck' or a bad 'fuck'?" I inquired, adrenaline pumping through my veins when I turned to meet the redhead's eyes, sparkling with excitement.

"Definitely a good 'fuck'." We both let out a laugh as if I hadn't just murdered someone. "Kiss me." He demanded; fortunately, I was thinking that same thing, so my lips crashed against his in a rough kiss right after he had finished the sentence.

We both tried to pour into the kiss as much sentiment as possible to let the other know how much we had craved to do that for the last three years. Our hands and arms were wrapped around each other, pulling our bodies as close as possible in the now empty corridor as if the world was about to end; it most likely was.

"Being realistic," I began speaking against his lips, once he had pulled away only enough for us to breathe. "we might be dead by tomorrow," if the situation was a bit different, we would probably be crying, but our little victory had made euphoria flood our hearts. "so know that—"

"I love you too." He finished with a nod.

I nodded back, pecking his lips before untangling by limbs from his and pulling him with me in order to resume our jog away.

[astaroth1357]

IT'S RAINING (DEMON) MEN!!!

I asked my sister for a prompt to get my creativity going. She played this song. Nuff said.

Intro:

It's been two months since the MC went back to the human world, and the demon boys are getting desperate to see their human… How desperate are we talking? Desperate enough to try their hands at some questionable sanctioned magic to get themselves to the human world... Good news is, they'll get there!

Just probably not in the way they expected. 🤷‍♀️🤭

Lucifer

He is going to KILL Mammon the next time he gets a hold of him…

He had no intention of taking an impromptu trip to the human world. He actually has clearance to go there when he needs to, thank you, so he didn't need to use any underhanded tricks to go between realms...

But he had made the mistake of walking too carelessly into Mammon's room while looking for a book he stole and stepped on a sigil half-obscured by an old pizza box…

...which is how he ended up falling from the Devildom to the human world at an unimaginable speed. It was like someone was yanking him to the Earth by the goddamn foot!

The unsuspecting MC was just out window shopping when suddenly an empty parked car across the street was utterly decimated by his falling body…

Of course, HE was fine, but that poor car never stood a chance… 😣 They had to help Lucifer pry himself out from the caved-in metal…

While he watched the MC fuss and try to brush all the broken glass off of him, Lucifer had only three things in mind:

(1) They look so cute when they're worried about him for practically no reason...

(2) Since he's already here, he may as well keep them company for… oh, a couple days at least?; and

(3) He was going to punish Mammon slightly less brutally than usual this time… May just fling him into a car too and leave it at that. 😌

Mammon

Okay, Mammon isn't stupid. He can do magic, he swears!!

He's just… rusty. Yeah. That. 🙄

That's the only reason the sigil that he haphazardly drew in his bedroom flung him to the human world like a catapult instead of neatly teleporting him like it was supposed to...

When the MC woke up that morning, they heard something familiar… Sad, pitiful little cries for help from outside their bedroom window….

Really only one person sprang right to their mind.

When they ran out to check, they indeed found Mammon tangled up in a tree like a wooden spider's web... He wasn't even facing upright!

It took them a half hour to detangle their poor demon from the tree… They almost gave up halfway through and had to call the fire department to pull him out like a trapped kitten... 🤦‍♀️

To say that Mammon was pretty clingy after they got him down hardly covers it. They were now his savior! (Yet again)

They had better not have any plans for the next day or two because he's going to want to spend every second he can with them… 

Or at least until Lucifer finds him and drags him back home by the back of the neck… 😰 (Hope they don't mind housing this figurative fugitive for a while…)

Leviathan

So in his defense, he didn't actually think the "Return to Lover" spell he saw on TSL would work, but he got so desperate to see MC again that he half-jokingly tried it one night...

Unfortunately for him, he also forgot that Simeon tends to use a lot of real-world influences in his writing, so… 😥

He hadn't wanted to be dragged to the human world quite so violently, and let's say he is NOT a graceful faller (arm flailing, girly screaming, spinning all over the place, etc.). 

Only when the smell of beach sand and sea salt hit his nose did he begin to calm down a little and get a good look at the surroundings he was hurtling towards… The ocean!

Video game logic dictates that if you land in water, you should be fine, right?? (Well, that's not how it works in real life, but when you're in a super sturdy demon body, there can be expectations 🤷‍♀️)

The MC was not expecting someone to splash down into the water next to them like they fell out of Heaven, nor for them to enter the water with the poise of an Olympic high diver…

They REALLY weren't expecting to see Levi surface beside them, demon form in the all it's sea serpent-y glory, totally stoked that the stupid thought he had actually brought him to them!

… Of course, he also has no idea how to get back, but who actually cares about that?? Lucifer will figure out he's not in his room eventually. For now, there wasn't anything in the ocean or beyond that could separate the MC from their adorkable otaku… 🤭

Satan

Okay. Teleportation magic is hard. Very, very hard. It basically requires bypassing several different physical laws by breaking down one's essence into a transmigrational-uh...

Whatever, the point is it's difficult, and mistakes happen even to the best of us.

Satan genuinely thought he triple-checked the symbols on his sigil… He must have made a crooked stroke or forgot a step in completing the seal properly… Either way, the spell he intended to bring him right to MC might have made a… slight miscalculation.

Rather than effortlessly stepping out beside them, he found himself hurtling towards the human world like a falling comet… If he hadn't known a few spells that could slow down his fall, he'd have had a pretty nasty meet with the ground... 😣

The MC was visiting a local park when pretty much everyone in their vicinity heard the sound of trees rapidly snapping nearby. At first, they were concerned it was a large animal… and then Satan stumbled out covered in twigs and leaves!

They, of course, ran over to see if he was alright, and the cheeky bastard just denied that anything had gone wrong. "Apparently," this was all according to plan… 

(Truthfully, he'd rather call Mammon some unsung genius than admit that he got the spell wrong, even if it was complex… 🙄)

Truthfully, Satan wasn't going to try making a return sigil for a while, so at least he and MC could be together for a time! Do they know if there were any cat cafes nearby??

Asmodeus

Asmo was PISSED at Solomon, furious even because he wouldn't help him sneak away to go see his beloved human! Didn't he know how hard the distance was on him?? The nerve!!! 😤

So, to him, it only seemed fair to steal some of the sorcerer's tomes and equipment… If he wouldn't help him in person, he could at least (unknowingly) do so in spirit!

… He just wasn't expecting the spells to be that difficult. Asmo is decent enough at magic, but some of those explanations were honestly beyond him… They bordered well into Satan or even Lucifer territory...

He tried his best, he really did, but the gentle teleportation that he was after actually flung him to the human world like he had been shot out of a cannon…! And while it was raining in the human world too!! 😫

The MC was walking home in the rain, umbrella and everything, when they heard screaming from the sky...

Thankfully, Asmo remembered just enough magic to cushion his fall… But that didn't save him from landing right into a massive puddle right next to the MC, effectively soaking them both.

On any other day, he'd have been angry that his expensive clothes were covered in rainwater, but that day? The second he saw the MC was there (and also tastefully soaked in water 😏), he just flung himself at them with a squeal of delight!

The MC had to convince him to let them get inside before they got too cold, but every step of the way was full of laughter and cuddles between the two of them...

Asmo would have to call Solomon to fess up to his theft, but hey, he got to see MC out of it! The bruised tailbone and ruined clothes were more than worth a treat like that.

Beelzebub

Beel genuinely wasn't intending to go to the human world; he really wasn't. He hated the distance like everyone else, but he knew better than to mess with magic that dangerous…

What happened was that he was walking by Satan's room one day and he smelt something inside… apples. A lot of them. He just couldn't help himself…

He didn't know that Satan was using those apples as test subjects for his teleportation magic… Unfortunately, the first fruit that he grabbed actually put him right smack dab in the middle of an incomplete sigil…

Beel kind of blacked out for whatever happened during the next part, it happened really fast, but it was the smell of more apples that woke him back up… and pears, peaches, pineapples, plums-

It's a farmer's market. Beel fell into the apple stand of a farmer's market….

The MC was out shopping there when they heard two things: the screams of shock and horror from the end of the market and a familiar voice shouting, "I'M HUNGRY!!!"

Of course they ran towards the screaming, defying all survival instincts (because who else are we talking about here?) and found Beel, mid-rampage, eating every scrap of food he could get his hands on…

But he actually stopped when he heard them shout his name. That's right, he stopped eating right then and there to turn and see them in the crowd... Oh, the smile that popped up on his face could have reignited a sun!

Beel had no idea how he got there and even less idea of getting back, so the MC had to eventually call Lucifer. They did get to spend the day with their gentle giant, though! (Just don't mention the massive bill for all the fruit he ate… 😣)

Belphegor

So here's the story. Belphie was sleeping in the library, as he sometimes does, and the next thing he knew, he was free-falling through the sky.

No, he didn't know what happened either. Maybe he rolled onto a stray sigil Satan left behind. Perhaps he was accidentally summoned to the human world. Mayhaps he even dreamed about MC so hard that it broke a rift in space-time to try and bring the two together... 

Who the hell knows? His more pressing concern was less how he got up there and more where he would end up.

Unfortunately for him, all he could see below him was a human residential area, and even worse yet, it looked like he was hurtling towards someone's roof… The MC's roof, to be exact!

MC was incredibly lucky to have already been up and starting their morning routine when the seventh-born came crashing onto their bed. Who knows how much damage he could have done if he had landed on them...??

That didn't change their shock to see Belphie, covered in plaster and wood fragments, sitting himself up while looking more annoyed to have been woken up than that he… you know... crashed through their roof...

He was grateful to have popped up close to them because it would have been pretty awkward to land in some random human's room. The MC was… less enthused that they now had some significant repairs to do.

Smooth-talker he is, Belphie not only managed to convince them that Lucifer would take care of the payment (which he would) but also not to call him just yet. Not until he could get himself cleaned off and maybe have a nap or two… Say, they weren't going anywhere today, right? Good. 😏

Check out my Masterlist for more wacky ideas.

[redhead-batgal]

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Fem! and Vigilante! Reader x Damian Wayne/Robin

Content: Some angst and lots of Fluff, some cursing, violence and an oblivious reader. Aged up Damian, 15/16yrs old.

Y/N: Your Name, L/N: Last Name, V/N: Vigilante Name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is a moment when you realize that you love some one, there is also a moment when you realize you hate someone. However, it's the moment realizing that someone loves you that usually hits the hardest. Unfortunately, this was not the moment for you. Instead it was the moment you realized that Damian Wayne hated you.

And honestly it pissed you off. You had done nothing to warrant his hate, in fact the two of you had been friends until he decided to be a pompous ass. Your opinion might be a little bit jaded considering you were hopelessly in love with him... but that didn't mean he had any right to be a dick to you.

It had started with avoiding you, he would see you walk into a room and he would turn and leave it. Sometimes you would be walking towards him and he would turn around and begin heading in the opposite direction. It extended into ignoring you, you would try and talk to him and he would ignore you and walk away.

Once, he was having a conversation with Tim, Tim mentioned how you would be able to help out much better then he could. Damian looked to you for a moment and you raised an eyebrow almost in question. Then he shook his head before leaving the room muttering something about how he didn't really need the answer.

It was infuriating. Maddening really, being ignored and avoided. But you knew it was best to let Damian do what ever the hell he wanted and he'd regret it later. However, when he asked to be paired with someone else on patrol when you didn't even have to speak to each other, to say you nearly lost it was an understatement.

It was the reason you nearly got shot, your mind was clouded with violent thoughts, anger at Damian and at yourself for being so hurt at the rejection.

You and Red Hood were paired together for patrol. You were supposed to be watching the turf of a gang called the Scarlet Soldiers. Word was that a war was brewing between The Scarlet Soldiers and The Unseen Devils. While your mind was off arguing with itself and shouting curses at Damian, The Devils made their move.

You didn't even realize what exactly had happened, you remember Red Hood shouting at you to get moving then everything was a blur. The next thing you remember it a feeling like fire slicing your side, gun shots were ringing around you and you felt another slice across your cheek and left arm. Someone shouted for you to get down and you dropped to the ground almost in a trance.

It wasn't until the gunfire stopped and the slices felt like they were a blaze did you come out of the trance. Someone was yanking you to your feet, however it felt as though everything was muddled and distant. Someone began to shake you and suddenly your hearing cleared and you found yourself face to face with Robin.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

He seemed concerned but you wrote that off as the adrenaline pumping through your veins due to being shot at and the fact that you had gotten grazed at least three times.

Rolling your eyes you shoved him away.

"Oh fuck off," You snapped.

He did not in fact fuck off.

Instead, he grabbed onto your right arm, forcing you to face him once again. You shot him a glare but he returned you one that rivaled your own.

"You," He began almost as if he was restraining himself, "could have gotten yourself killed, V/N."

You couldn't believe it, was he seriously acting like he cared? That he was worried about you when you both knew that was the farthest from the truth.

Pressing a hand to your forehead you shook your head and weakly laughed, "Please don't start this shit with me right now."

He blinked in slight confusion and looked at you the confusion overtaking the apparent anger he had previously had.

"Excuse me?"

"Your bullshit," You began shooting him an irritated look, "already has a body count you don't need to add more to it."

That only seemed to confuse him more. He did not let go of your arm, instead he took a step closer to you, "What?"

"This- this fuckary about 'caring'."

You threw your hands up as you shook your head and effectively slipped from his grip. But it didn't matter, he was close. Close enough you could see a slight hitch in his breathing.

" I do care-" Robin began but you cut him off shaking your head.

"Don't you dare, don't even try saying that you give a fuck about me because we both know that's a damned lie." The words slipped off your tongue and you felt your heart raging in your chest.

You had unintentionally let your feelings, the ones you'd been trying your hardest to push back, to beat into nonexistence, shove themselves forwards. The pain you had felt, not only at the rejection he kept seeming to shove your way but because of your stupid love for him. No matter how hard you tried it seemed your dumb heart was saving all it's love for him.

It wasn't until you saw the shock on his face you realized that he, luckily, didn't see all that you felt. His face hardened and he took another step forwards. If he got any closer the two of you would be touching.

"What in the hell made you think that?" His voice was low, you could see him clenching his fists and you had a feeling was he not wearing his mask, his eyes would be blazing. You had made him angry.

Great. This was just perfect.

However you couldn't stop yourself from replying. You had gotten all your pain out on the table, why not throw the anger out there as well?

"YOU! You and your pompous assery! Avoiding me, ignoring me! Of course you don't care, it was obvious... why would you?" You found yourself nearly shouting as you lurched forwards, your voice cracking at the end.

He blinked a few times, the anger slowly leaving him. You could tell because his body began to relax and his fists unclenched. This made you even angrier. Taking in a breath to stop yourself from breaking the boy wonder's nose you realized how close the two of you were.

Well shit.

He was close enough you could make out the pattern on his mask and uniform. You could hear him breathing and had the sneaking suspicion if you were to let out a breath, he would be able to feel it. You could practically hear him in you head scolding you for ruining his outfit.

"Don't even breathe on it," He had told you when you first saw it, "it's very expensive."

"How much?" You had asked in curiosity.

He shot you a look then rolled his eyes and replied, "It's worth far more then you are."

The sight of him moving his hand brought you back to the present. Looking at him you found him studying you. Suddenly he sighed and shook his head. Your noses were almost brushing when he said,

"Well, I never said I didn't care, So don't go thinking that."

Before you could reply someone called your name causing the both of you to look in their direction. Nightwing was making his way towards you a concerned look on his face.

"V/N, are you alright?" He asked moving forwards, hands out as if to examine your wounds.

You noticed how Robin took a few not so subtle steps away from you and you waved a hand at Nightwing.

"Honestly I'm fine, it's just a couple of nicks. I'll be okay."

Robin snorted as if he disagreed and you shot him a slight glare. Turning back towards Nightwing you noticed how he gave Robin a worried look before meeting your gaze.

"Just to be safe, let's get you back to bat cave and let Agent A take a look."

Reluctantly you nodded and let Nightwing begin to drag you away, a strange feeling burning in your chest. You hadn't fully realized what Robin had said until then.

I never said I didn't care. So don't go thinking that

What on earth did he mean by that? You were thoroughly confused. He acted like he didn't care, then said things like this. You hoped you didn't get whiplash from this sudden personality change, however you knew that it was more likely that you were going to just end up getting hurt. Your heart had begun to sing a little song almost as soon as it heard his words.

I never said I didn't care

That must mean he does care, your heart cheered. Your feelings were confusing... very confusing. On one hand you were angry, on the other hand you heart seemed to be making you feel a bit fluttery.

The sharp sting of rubbing alcohol on your cuts yanked you out of your thoughts. Alfred stood in front of you gently cleaning the minor wounds you gained earlier. Meanwhile, Tim seemed to be explaining something he invented to Duke.

"What do you mean it might explode?" Duke asked still wearing at least half of his vigilante outfit.

Tim shrugged as he deposited another coffee cup into the overflowing trashcan near the bat computer.

"I'm like eighty-five percent sure it won't."

"Eighty-Five percent?!"

"Uh, Well more like seventy-seven."

"WHAT?!"

You knew under other circumstances you would have laughed an such an interaction. However after what happened you were lacking your usual humor and it didn't go unnoticed.

"Is everything alright Miss. Y/N?"

You blinked and look at Alfred. He was tending to the wound on your arm and gave you a expecting look.

"Oh, I- uh yeah. I mean it's not alright but nothing is really wrong." You explained with a shrug not wanting to get into it.

"Is that why Master Damian hasn't stopped staring at you?"

"Yea-Wait, what?"

You looked up and found, nearly on the other side of the bat cave stood Damian, clearly watching the progress of you being taken care. Three words popped into your head.

Overbearing Mother Hen.

This was nearly exactly like how things had been before Damian decided to turn into a dick... well more like a prick.

He would worry about any injuries you got, of course you felt the same about him, but it was strange to see him back up to his old ways... it made your heart do the weird fluttery thing again and you really didn't like it.

A stinging on your cheek caused you to wince. And you blinked once again back into reality.

"Apologizes Miss. Y/N."

You shrugged at Alfred, now deciding to focus on him... well for at least the moment.

"It's fine, it's the least I deserve for being an idiot."

Alfred raised an eyebrow as he pulled the cloth away, but other then that he didn’t react to your comment. Looking for a bandage in the first aid-kit, Alfred let out a slight hum. After a minute's search he pulled out a old looking band-aid.

"Unfortunately, Miss. Y/N this is the last band-aid we have."

In his hands Alfred had a pink hello kitty band-aid, it had tiny little hearts and hello kitty's face adorning it's surface. You didn't really mind, a band-aid is a band-aid after all.

Alfred place the band-aid on your face and you waggled your eyebrows remarking,

"It's alright, I don't mind, I think it give me a punk edge. What do you think?"

He replied without missing a beat as he began to clean up the area, "I think you should go and talk to Master Damian."

Of course he did, he probably had heard about your argument from someone or heard parts of it over the comms, the possibilities of him hearing about were endless after all.

Shaking your head you sighed, "Alright, alright, fine."

Hopping down off of the counter, you began to walk towards Damian. As you went you passed by Steph and Cass, who both shot you looks as you headed towards him.

"Nice band-aid!" Steph remarked as she shot you a wink.

You rolled your eyes smiling as you fought off a laugh. Giving her a thumbs up you continued to walk. Stopping in front of him you notice how he's giving you a strange look.

After a few moments of awkward silence and rolling from the ball of your foot to your heel you nodded and decided to break it.

"You are being really creepy you know, you should stop."

Damian blinked in surprise and his brooding look dropped as he gave you a confused one.

"How so?"

You didn't understand how he couldn't see that he was being weird, weird and creepy. Staring at someone relentlessly and not turning away when they look back at you is fairly weird.

"Just standing there staring," You explained waving a hand, "it's weird. Stop it."

Damian's face stiffed for a moment and his entire body tensed. You didn't know exactly what you did, but something you said clearly had upset him.

"Why am I scaring you?" He asked fairly curtly.

He- he thought that he could scare you? Something was clear wrong with him because he must have forgotten who you were and what you've seen.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head as you crossed your arms. Letting out a scoff you looked him dead in the eyes and gave him a tight smile.

"Do you really think you could scare me? Sweetheart, I've met babies that are scarier then you."

It occurred to you, after you said it that you called him sweetheart. For a few seconds panic began to ensue in your mind until you saw his natural scowl and the rolling of his eyes. He didn't take it as flirting as you feared, instead he took it as a taunt... or at least that's what it seemed like.

The scowl slips away from his face and instead he looks at you frustrated and he opened his mouth only to close it. Clearly he wanted to say something, what scared you was how much you wanted to know what it was.

You fiddled with your hands for a moment before he finally cleared his throat and spoke.

"I- I wanted.... I wanted to apologize for my behavior."

Initially shock came over you, was Damian Wayne... the Damian Wayne apologizing? It sure as hell was what he said and as far as you could tell it wasn't a joke. Then again you don't exactly know what he's apologizing for.

Pushing your surprise back you raised an eyebrow and inquired, "And why is that?"

He fidgeted for a moment before looking you in the eyes, he seemed upset- a look you knew meant he was not upset with you, but himself.

"Because I was not right to treat you the way I did."

Pardon? You were astounded. Not only was he actually apologizing, he was admitting he was wrong... well not even admitting it. He was saying it, you hadn't really told him his behavior was wrong more as told him it pissed you off. For half a second you felt the fluttery feeling but you shoved it back.

What exactly was he expecting to get from this apology? Did he expect you to instantly forgive him and for everything to go back to the way it was? Or did he expect you for forgive him and then you apologize for something? You didn't know and frankly were irritated at any of the possibilities.

"Okay and?"

He swallowed and you swear you could see his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

"You are a very dear... friend of mine and I would hate to loose that friendship because of a fault on my part."

Your jaw nearly dropped, did he just call you a dear friend? Tonight was full of miracles. Your heart began fluttering again and you were to shocked to even try and stop it.

We're friends... dear friends, your heart began singing. But you cut it off before it could get any further. No, no you couldn't keep playing this game with yourself, with your heart and feelings. For your own sake you were going to force your heart to find someone else to love. No more saving all your love for him. You were going to find someone.... someone less of ass. However that didn't mean the two of you couldn't be friends.

He seemed genuine enough and seeing the kicked puppy dog expression on his face was seriously starting to wear you down.

"Ugh, fine." You sighed giving him a irritated look, "Just don't do it again alright? I really don't like pompous you, jackass you is much better."

Relief quickly appeared on Damian's face and he seemed to be fighting off a smile suddenly.

"Thank you... I'm assuming jackass me is the version you deem normal?"

Despite yourself you snorted, rolling your eyes you smiled and gave him a long look. He was an idiot and sometimes weird, but other times he could be kinda cute... alright more then kinda... wait did what he just said about being dear friends- was that an emotional speech? You couldn't help but tease him about it.

"Yup. By the way, I didn't know you were the emotional speech kind of guy."

He blinked and then his eyes narrowed and he leaned in towards you, his arms behind his back a strange look on his face.

"Well special circumstances call for special responses however if anyone ever finds out about this there won't be a body left for them to find." He muttered to you.

For some reason, you found this hysterically funny. You smiled at him and he gave you a confused look. Laughing you rolled your eyes.

"Okay, then."

A temptation washed over you and you gave Damian a look, he raised his eyebrows in confusion. You leaned in a bit more and for a moment you relished the surprised look in his eyes. Leaning in even more you quickly pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, then you pulled away smiling.

His eyes widened and it was hard not to laugh at his expression.

"Did-did you just kiss me?" He asked clearly in shock

Laughing you shook your head in disbelief, it wasn't that shocking was it?

"It was only on the cheek, geeze. You do know that friends sometimes kiss each other like that right?"

He blinked twice and then he nodded and turned away from you his face turning all different shades of pink and red.

".... I do now." He replied nearly whispering.

It suddenly occurred to you that you had completely and totally flustered him. You tried to stop yourself but you really couldn't. A snort escaped you and you pressed a hand to your mouth to push back your giggles. Damian blinked a few times and your entire body shook.

"Oh no!" Jason shouted, "I think the demon spawn killed Y/N."

That did it, you burst into a fit of laughter. Your entire body shook and you nearly collapsed in on yourself.

"Oh my gosh," You said in between your laughing fits.

After a few seconds of you cackling and everyone staring at you in confusion, you were able to calm down... well it was more like a few minutes but that's besides the point. Wiping away imaginary tears you let out a sigh and smiled brightly at Damian. His face softens and he sighs slightly before straightening out.

"I hope you fully recover from your injuries L/N." He says in a strange tone, turning to leave.

"They were just scrapes." You reply, waving a hand as if to brush off.

He pauses for a moment and turns back to you. Tilting his head he looks you over.

"Regardless, I dislike seeing you hurt..." He softly says, he then blinked a few times as if he just realized what he said and he got an embarrassed look on his face. " Well goodnight."

In that instance it was almost like cupid shot an arrow straight at your mind, not your heart. Mainly because your heart was already certain about what it felt, your mind on the other hand was causing all the trouble. A warm feeling rushed over you and softly both in unison your heart and your mind began to sing.

It was then that you realized, at least for now, there wasn't really anyone else you could find yourself loving. Or at least feel the same way you do about him.

Damn it.

Sighing in defeat you watched him walk across the bat cave and slowly up the stairs. Shaking your head you watch him go and find yourself muttering under your breath.

"Looks like I'm saving all my love for you."

Fuck.

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (4/?)

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Word Count: 2.6k words

Warning: 18+ (discussion of assault, nervous breakdown, anxiety attack, just don’t read this whole series if you are a kid)

You woke up to a night of dreamless sleep like you always did, but then the events of the previous night hit you. You wished it was a dream, but one look in the mirror and a bruise running along your cheek was enough to confirm. Not only that, but you remembered asking your boss to stay over, but you didn't expect him to. The blanket on your living room’s couch and the bowl of fruits and a glass of juice situated out for you on the kitchen counter proved that he did stay.

And then the reality sunk in, you have a decision to make. You can either go to the cops or let that guy get away. The latter sounded not so great, but you knew going to the cops isn't going to be great either. You've seen enough detective shows to know that. You've had enough, and you just wanted to forget it. 

What did Mr. Barnes mean when he said you were going to talk about this? Are you supposed to visit him before work? Is he going to come to your place?

You decided to work on your book but ended up not being able to concentrate, so you started watching a show and fell asleep while watching it. Maybe some Chinese take-out could make you feel better. It didn't. Nothing made you feel better. You wished you had some friends in this new town because you didn't want to burden your work friends. 

After a horrible day of trying to cope, when you finally made your way to the club, you noticed the security was increased. Usually, security guards weren't present inside the club, but today it was different. Everyone was so vigilant and you felt a little safer. If you didn't know any better, you'd think Mr. Barnes did it for you, but again he would have done the same thing for any other employee. 

"Boss wants to see you," Pietro told you. You were about to head for Clint's office when the blond twin spoke again and pointed his finger towards the stairs." The boss."

Okay, well maybe playing naïve couldn't avoid this meeting, so you slowly walked upstairs. How bad could this go, it's not like he saw you in your most vulnerable state? Oh, wait, he did. 

You knocked on his office door, wanting to rip the band-aid and get over with it. 

"Hey," you said, faking a smile. "Thanks for getting me home last night and for breakfast today. I didn't even know I had fruits and juice at home because let's be honest, I'm a toast and coffee kinda gal."

Mr. Barnes didn't say anything, he just looked at you as if you were a confusing puzzle that he couldn't solve. He raised a hand towards the seat in front of him and you took it, nervously fiddling with your fingers under the table.

“You do that a lot, you know?” he asked, it wasn't a question, it was merely an observation.

“What?”

“Deflecting a serious issue by using a joke.” Mr. Barnes observed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What are you? My therapist?”

He arched an eyebrow, indicating that you were literally doing the thing he pointed out. 

"Yeah, well, it's called having a healthy coping mechanism. You should try getting one, brooding is only gonna help you this far."

 "It's not healthy if you're not dealing with it," Mr. Barnes pointed out. 

You scoffed in incredulity and you felt very, very attacked. 

What is it? Attacking y/n day?, you thought. 

"Anyway, I think I want to press charges," You changed the subject to a more serious conversation to avoid him calling you out on your bullshit. 

"Okay, I understand.” 

“You do?” You asked, bewilderment clearly written all over your face. “I mean, letting an employee go to the cops is not gonna be great for your club's reputation and yours too. And, you know, considering the shady business, you do-” 

"What exactly do you think we do?" He asked.

And that's when it hit you, you didn't know what he did or mob bosses do in general. All your knowledge about it came from movies and Wattpad, both of them are not a great place to gain knowledge.

“What exactly do you do?” you pondered.

 He obviously wasn't expecting you to directly ask him, nobody has directly asked him or even made it known that they are aware of his work. It was kind of like a silent pact that everybody signed for, everybody except you, apparently. 

“Um, you know, I've been working for almost 2 weeks here now, and I haven't seen any drugs around here, so it's obviously not drugs. You don't look like the sex trafficking types-”

 "Jesus, woman!" He exclaimed, offended by your assumptions. 

"Then just tell me what you do."

You expected him to tell you something, but he just kept looking at you with a face void of emotions.

 "Fine, don't tell me," you mumbled, raising your hands dramatically in defeat. 

“So you don't mind me ruining your reputation by going to the cops?” 

“I told you I don't care. Your safety is my utmost priority,” your face might have given away the surprise you felt because he quickly backpedaled. ”I mean, the safety of my employees.”

“The safety of my employees is my utmost priority,” he told you, providing an extra emphasis on the word employees. “Anyway, one of my people would take you to the police station near-"

You cut him off immediately. 

"No, you can't tell anyone else. I don't want everyone hopping on the pity train. I'm already ashamed that you know about it," you pleaded but your voice was firm, telling him that this was not up for a discussion.

At this, his eyes and features softened. Bucky didn't want you to feel guilty or ashamed for somebody else's actions, but clearly, you did. 

"Okay, then I can take you. You just had to explain to the officer last night’s events, and they'll ask you to recognize Rumlow and then we can-"

Mr. Barnes’s voice faded into the background when it finally hit you.

"You know what, I changed my mind. It's too much. I don't want to press charges anymore. I didn't think this through," you backtracked. You did think this through, but now all the factors were adding up in your brain. You'd have to explain the details to a cop who is probably going to be another man and a stranger, and then they'd ask you to identify the guy. You didn't think you had it in you to face him. At least not now. 

He interpreted your thought process and promptly changed the topic. "Okay, we can work with whatever you want, and at least let Peter escort you home after work."

"What? No!” You quickly declined.

“It's for your own safety,” Bucky tried to reason. He wasn't letting you get off this easily.

 “I'm a strong, independent woman and I'm not scared of anything.” 

That was a lie. You were scared of many things like heights, dark, spiders, confrontation and the list goes on and on. 

You remembered all the lectures your mom gave you telling you that women should be scared because men are monsters, and you'd lose your honor if you are reckless and some other patriarchal crap that you didn't pay attention to. But you weren't scared, you were just always careful. You'd always put the keys between your knuckles when you went home alone. In your previous job, you used to laugh it off whenever your coworkers made a sexist joke. You'd ignore the subtle shoulder touch that your previous boss did. You told yourself that this is what it takes to make it. If you were to run away every time someone eyed you in a wrong way, then you'd spend your whole life running. 

Women usually shrug this behavior off as it is what is, but the truth is it shouldn't be like this.

“Please, I insist.” 

“I'm very capable of taking care of myself. Just because one bad incident happened doesn't mean I'll fucking break!” You stated, your voice louder than your regular voice to get across your point.

That was also a lie. You were walking on a thin line and you were ignoring your emotions. You were one outburst away from a breakdown, and you just couldn't bring yourself to feel anything. 

Mr. Barnes tried to call your name, but you were already bolting out of his office. 

You needed a drink. No, fuck that. You needed multiple drinks. It wasn't exactly wise to get drunk during work, but it couldn't get any shittier than this, right?, you thought.

Right?

 Wrong. It could get way shittier than this. Now it was almost midnight, you were kind of tipsy, and you could see two Mr. Stark, your regular customer, in front of you. 

Did he have a twin? Is he and his twin brother one of those identical twins that dress up the same? Because that's what it looked like.

 “Earth to y/n," Mr. Stark said, or was it his twin? It was getting hard to keep track anymore.

 And that's when you noticed. 

“Holy, Shit. You're triplets, Mr. Stark," you announced. 

"Okay, kid, close my tab.”

“Hey, y/n. Are you okay?” Peter asked, noticing the concerned look Mr. Stark gave him before leaving.

“Yes, I'm fine. Absolutely fine.”

***

Turns out you were not fine. You've been pretty much hammered for the past week, and you could barely get a sentence out without giggling or slurring. Your colleagues took notice of your state and whenever someone pointed it out, you'd just shrug it off as a bad day or a bad week. There was no concept of time in your drunk state.

You couldn't concentrate on your book, you could barely look at someone without squinting, and you've been eating takeout and leftovers for the past few days. 

James would have fired if someone working under him was this irresponsible, but he knew your reasons. He knew you clearly weren't coping with the trauma well. Your work ethics were shoved down the trash that even Clint asked why you weren't fired yet.

Bucky didn't want to talk to you, he thought that maybe giving you some space would do you good, but clearly it wasn't working. Usually, the mob boss didn't interfere in the affairs of his employees, it was Clint's job, but when you smashed a bottle on the head of a customer, he had to interject.

“I TOLD THIS FUCKER NO!” you yelled, Peter’s hand around your middle from behind. Another empty beer bottle was in your hand, ready to be smashed across the face of the drunk dude in front of you.

Pietro and Wanda were enjoying the show. Peter, being the peace lover he is, held you back when you smashed a bottle across a drunk customer's face. Even though Peter was younger than you, he was stronger, and he was not only holding you back but also himself. He didn't want to cause a scene and that is why he was mulling comforting words in your ear like, he's not worth it, you're gonna kill this guy.

Damn right I am, you thought.

It was ironic because everyone in that club had killed someone except you.

When Bucky walked into the room, the drunk guy turned towards him and pointed at you. ”You are hiring crazy bitches now? Just called her baby girl and she went psycho!!!”

Bucky didn't understand what was happening. He told the security guards to take that man outside his club and he walked towards you. He firmly yet gently took a hold of your left arm, signaling Peter to let go of you. Without a word, he started walking in the direction of his office, dragging you along with him.

Once near his office, he lightly yanked your hand and shoved you inside, making you stand in front of him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he inquired, having had enough of your incompetence.

You were seething with rage. "Wrong with me? I told him no, but he didn't listen."

Bucky stepped forward, his anger dissipating into sympathy. " I know, he mumbled, "and I'm so-"

 "No, you don't know!" you yelled, body trembling and tears welling up in your eyes. "I told him no multiple times, I even tried to push him off me, but he just kept coming back."

Bucky's eyes furrowed in confusion. He didn't understand your words, the drunk customer didn't touch you. And that's when he realized, you weren't talking about the drunk customer. He cognized that the drunk guy purely triggered something that you've been suppressing for days now. Bucky was aware that you needed to get it out of your system to cope healthily.

“I told him no, you know? But he just wouldn't listen,” you stated, trying to convince yourself that you didn't lead him on. ”And he was so…. so strong and… and then he hit me and everything just went blur, I couldn't see but... but I could still feel him with me.”

Not realizing that you were not in that place anymore, you wrapped your hand around yourself to seek some sort of protection and comfort, bottom lip quivering, the welled up traitorous tears were streaming down your face and all you could think about was that night. 

“I… I can't get his touch out,” you stammered. ” I shower, multiple times a day, but I still can't get his touch out.”

With that, you broke down completely and shattered on the floor, sobbing ferociously. Your knees ached because of the position you were situated in, but the emotional pain was enough to overshadow the physical one.

For once in his lifetime, Bucky did not know what to do. Cautiously, he made his way towards you and knelt down in front of you. He did not know what to say or do to make you feel better.

You launched your body towards him, snaking your arms around his shoulder to settle on his neck as if he was the only thing grounding you. You lurched onto him like he was your anchor, and maybe he was. It took a minute for Bucky to register your actions, and when he did, he wrapped his arms around your middle and closed the minuscule distance separating you.

He surprised himself with the way one of his hands automatically reached for your hair and whispered words of comfort in your ear. He caught you as you crumpled physically and emotionally. 

”You're going to be okay, doll,” he whispered and kissed your temple with sincerity. ”I will make sure of that.”

The second part was barely audible, it wasn't meant for you, it was a promise he made to himself.

Bucky held you tightly yet gently while you sobbed on his shoulder.

 He didn't know how long he held you, it felt like an eternity to him with the way he could feel the guilt and rage inside him. When you passed out in his arms, he gently placed you on one of the comfortable couches in his office and draped a blanket around you that he had for when he would work late at night.

An office chair might not be the most ideal place to spend the night in, but it didn't matter to Bucky. All that mattered was you.

TAGS: @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​  @rivers-rambles21​  @emmabarnes​@goodcleanfunsis​ @valsworldofcreativity​

[mandoalorian]

The Nanny [Maxwell Lord x Dave York x F!Reader] SMUT

Summary: Dave York is cold and rough around the edges, but he’s all you’ve ever been used to. And you’ve never been opposed to the amazing sex that comes alongside working for him, as a nanny for his two young daughters. However, things seem to spice up when you’re requested to watch over none other than Maxwell Lord’s son, and the two meet in an unlikely situation.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: SMUT; threesome, unprotected piv, fingering, male receiving oral, female receiving oral, orgasm denial, creampie, cunnilingus, choking, slapping, use of handcuffs, use of vibrator (on Maxwell!), face fucking, degradation kink, voyeurism kink, praise kink, food mention, allusions to murder/missing person. The suburban murder daddy and my sexy capitalist boyfriend come with their own warnings ;)

Word Count: 7000>

Masterlist

REBLOGS ARE SO APPRECIATED. 💛

He was your best customer. You’d been a nanny for the York family for two years now, and Alice and Molly were sweetest children you’d ever worked with. They were good as gold, always doing their homework to the best of their ability, they had wonderful manners thanks to their parenting, and they played nicely together. However, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a second motive for babysitting the girls.

Dave York was a single father. Despite being close to the family, you never asked what happened to Carol (his ex-wife/Alice and Molly’s mother), you assumed it was a touchy subject and quite frankly, none of your business. It did pique your curiosity though, how she had just seemed to vanish into thin air. It was unexplained, and you assumed it was hard on the family, especially the kids. Although Dave had been handling it quite well all things considered. It was strange to you, how they never spoke a word of her. She was truly an enigma. You saw her face in the very few family portraits that were peppered around the house, but that was all.

When Carol disappeared two years ago, Dave figured he’d need an extra pair of hands to help around the house while he was at work. You had your own place, sure, but you practically lived with the York family anyway. You had the mornings and early afternoons to yourself because Molly went to school, Alice got sent to daycare and Dave went to the office, but it was at night when he needed you the most.

You didn’t know where Dave went at night. He’d call you, once or twice a week on short notice, telling you he needed you to watch the girls. Whatever he was doing, he called it business, and didn’t explain it further. Dave was super accommodating to you, immediately telling you that you could just make yourself at home in his beautiful, extensive sized suburban house. He was like family to you. In fact, he was more. Dave relished in his own independence, but the truth was, he relied on you more than he’d like to admit.

You had your own room-- a soft, plush queen sized bed all to yourself. He even let you decorate. You smiled fondly at the memory of getting the girls to help paint the walls with you while their father was out on a ‘job’ one night. Your smile grew even wider when you remembered hearing the front door open in the early hours of the morning, and shuffling about downstairs. Every time Dave would come home, he’d slide into your bedroom and climb on top of you, smelling suspiciously like blood and sweat (although you knew better than to question it). His demeanour was ravenous and primal as he’d slide his thick, calloused fingers along your body. He’d push your nightgown up, squeeze your thighs, lift your legs up and wrap them around his waist. You were fucking him, sure. And you had been for the past two years. He was the most attractive man you’d ever met, with dark hair and big brown eyes. He was rough around the edges, intimidating, but it only spurred you on even more. Of course, nothing was ever made official. You were nothing more than his daughters’ nanny, just lucky enough to have your own bedroom in the York family home.

Dave was your only source of income, and he provided you with enough to get by. You never requested a large sum of money for watching the girls-- to be honest, you’d be satisfied enough with just the sex, but the pay was decent. You hadn’t really gotten any other babysitting jobs, and when you had, you’d deny them for the sake of keeping Dave in good spirits. You’d favour him over any client. Except today.

Your phone rang and you dived into your purse to answer it. The girls were playing on the floor and Dave was buttoning up his winter coat. “Hello?” you answered, not recognising the number.

“Yes, hello,” a feminine voice replied. “This is Raquel, I’m an assistant to Mr. Maxwell Lord, the CEO of Black Gold Cooperative.”

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head upon recognising the name. “The oil guy from TV?!” you gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth in disbelief. Dave turned to you, quirking an eyebrow as he tried to gauge your reaction.

“As you may know, Mr. Lord is an esteemed businessman and well, he saw your advertisement in the paper saying you were a nanny-for-hire.” Raquel trailed off before pushing straight to the point. “He has a son, Alistair, six years old. He was wondering if you could watch him tonight? We’ve tried every other nanny in the area but no one else can take him short notice.”

“I- I’m actually on a job right now…” you bit your lip nervously.

“Mr. Lord will pay handsomely.” Raquel hummed, trying to coherese you.

“Just a moment,” you placed your mobile on the coffee table and looked up at Dave, whose dark eyes were already burning into you. They hadn’t left you once. He gave you a questioning look and a shaky exhale left your lips. You didn’t know why you were this nervous -- maybe it was just the intimidating aura Dave gave off. “Uhm… you know that guy on the television with the blonde hair who sells oil?”

“Maxwell Lord.” Dave said, matter-of-factly. You were slightly impressed that Dave already knew who he was.

“Uh… yeah, well. He has a son, apparently. And he can’t get a sitter. And he’s asked for me.” Dave’s expression didn’t change once.

“And?” 

Why was your heart beating this fast? Why were you so fucking afraid of pissing Dave off?

“I-- nothing. You’re right. I’ll just tell him--” you stammered, reaching to grab your cell again.

“--tell him that you’ll take the job, I hope.” Dave’s lips curled into a smirk as he finished your sentence for you.

That was… weird. He didn’t seem jealous or anything like he’d usually be. He fiddled with the rest of his buttons on his coat before flicking his wrist out and checking the time on his watch.

“Are you-- are you sure?” you asked cautiously.

“Of course!” Dave beamed. “How old is the kid?”

“Same age as Alice.” you hummed.

“Perfect,” Dave smiled before kneeling down to kiss the forehead of his two little girls. “Daddy’s heading out now but there’s gonna be a little boy coming over to play with you. So be kind to him, okay?”

“Okay daddy, love you.” Molly smiled, wrapping her small chubby arms around her father’s neck.

“Love you too princess.” Dave chuckled and your heart gushed with warmth upon witnessing the interaction. Dave York might have been a scary man but he was a hell of a good father.

“Hi,” you said, picking the phone back up and putting it to your ear. “I can watch his kid but-- he’ll have to bring him here. Uhm… how long for?”

“One second,” Raquel hummed, holding the phone to her chest and looking over at the blonde haired businessman who was sitting at his expensive oak wood desk, neck deep in paperwork. “Mr. Lord?” Maxwell glanced up at Raquel, his eyes tired and a strand of his hair falling in his face. “She can do it but she requests that you bring Alistair over to the house she’s currently working at. And she wants to know how long she’ll have to watch him for.”

Maxwell sighed, exasperated, before looking back down at the paperwork and trying to gauge how long it would take him. “Three… four hours maybe?”

Raquel nodded her head in understanding. “Four hours max,” she promised you. “What is the address?” You gave her the address of the York homestead, watching Dave as he left the house without even muttering as much as a goodbye. Raquel scribbled down the address and handed it over to Maxwell who stood up and fixed his tie. “Thank you Ms Y/L/N, your service is very much appreciated.”

“Oh please just call me--”

And then the line went dead. That was… weird.

Maxwell grabbed his suit jacket and straightened out his clothes, grimacing at the ache in his back that he had from sitting at his desk all day. He shuffled out of his office, took the elevator downstairs, and found his son Alistair playing with a train set in the lobby of Black Gold Cooperative.

“Daddy!” Alistair cried out excitedly, shooting to his feet and running up to his father.

“Hi buddy!” Maxwell grinned, forcing out some enthusiasm as he knelt down and wrapped his arms around Alistair, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Are you finished work now? Can we go home?” Alistair quizzed, and Maxwell’s heart broke at the hopeful spark in his eyes.

“Ah-- not quite,” Maxwell admitted and Alistair’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. “But I’m going to take you over to someone’s house… a uh-- a friend! And she will watch over you until daddy finishes work. I just don’t want you to be bored, okay? Raquel is going home now and I can’t… I can’t watch you. So…”

Alistair frowned sadly. “But I don’t want to go… I want to stay here. With you.” he mumbled.

“I know sweetie, but I won’t be too late, okay? And once I’m done tonight we can spend the whole day tomorrow together. How does that sound?” 

“You said that yesterday…” Alistair whispered.

Maxwell sighed and pulled his son into an even tighter hug. “I-- I’m sorry. You know I’m doing my best, don’t you?”

“I know.” Alistair sniffed.

“And I want to give you the best life. Better than all the other kids. And better than what your old man had when he was your age. So… I have to work hard, okay? And one day you’ll get your pool that you want. And the pony and the race car…”

“I don’t want that daddy, I just want you.” Alistair confessed, his dark eyes glazed with unshed tears.

Maxwell pressed a kiss into Alistair’s forehead and pulled off him. “Okay. Go get your coat and I’ll pack up your trainset.”

“Can I take it to your friend’s house?” he questioned, his lips curling into a smile.

“Of course.” Maxwell replied.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Holy shit. He was even more attractive in real life than what he was on television. You weren’t necessarily nervous when you heard the knock on the door, but when you answered it, your heart slammed against your chest. Maxwell Lord stood before you, holding the hand of his son, but your eyes were just completely fixated on him. He donned a slightly oversized power-suit that broadened his shoulders significantly. It was a pale blue colour and even under the dark evening sky you noticed the lilac and purple tie and matching pocket square. It made you smile. It was endearing, almost.

“Good evening.” Max grinned that same, charming, TV smile that was so familiar. 

“Hi.” you sighed longingly, your eyes wide and doe-shaped as you became lost in his gaze.

He looked like a fairytale prince. His hair was styled perfectly and despite the hour, you’d never expected his designer outfit to be pressed so perfectly.

“I’m Max Lord.” Maxwell greeted.

“I know.” you hummed, biting your lip as your eyes trailed down his body.

Maxwell chuckled, finding you absolutely adorable. He cleared his throat and gently pushed a begrudgent Alistair in front of him. “This is my son, Alistair.”

“Yeah…” you murmured. Molly tugged on your arm and pulled you straight out of your thoughts about Mr. Lord. “Uhm-- shit! Right. Sorry!” you gasped, becoming flustered. “Oh fuck-- I didn’t mean to curse-- I just--”

Maxwell raised his eyebrows and gently placed a hand on your arm. “It’s okay.” he said slowly and you felt your cheeks flush with heat.

“Um…” you took Alistair’s hand and grinned. “Hi love, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Hello.” Alistair said quietly.

“Now Ali, don’t be shy.” Maxwell chastised.

“It’s okay,” you reassured Maxwell. “Uhm, this is Molly.” you presented Alistair and Maxwell with Dave’s little girl who had been standing by your side the entire time.

Alistair’s eyes lit up excitedly when he saw Molly. “Hi Molly, I’m Alistair Lorenz--Lord. Do you maybe want to be friends?”

“Hi Alistair Lord. I’m Molly York. Do you like popcorn?”

“Yes.” Alistair nodded merrily.

“Okay. We can be friends. Come with me.” Molly said, grabbing Alistair’s hand and pulling him into the house.

“I don’t have many friends…” you overheard Alistair say as the children padded into the living room and your heart shattered. He was clearly such a sweet little boy. 

“Uhm, thanks for the favour. Short-notice and all.” Maxwell said, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s honestly fine.” you assured Max.

“Okay. Good. It was uh-- nice to meet you.” Maxwell smiled, before taking your hand and brushing a soft yet polite kiss over your knuckles. His gaze didn’t break away from you once and the butterflies in the pit of your stomach were overwhelming. His soft lips against your skin felt like an electric and you couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel capturing your own lips with his.

“You too.” you gasped.

“I’ll… see you later tonight.” Max grinned, dropping your hand and straightening out his suit once more.

“Okay. Yeah. Tonight.” you replied nervously, fluttering your eyelashes.

“Good night.” Max said politely before spinning around on his heel and walking back down the lawn to his Cadillac.

“Night!” you called after him, and he waved his hand.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As it turned out, Alistair was the sweetest little boy you had ever watched over. After Molly insisted you make popcorn, and Alice begged you to put on The Little Mermaid, the four of you were lounging on the floor in a hand-crafted pillow fortress. The conversations between the three children were endearing, to say the least.

Alice: Y/N, what do you want to be when you’re older?

You: Well, when I was little I wanted to be a veterinarian and look after all the sick animals.

Molly: That’s what I want to do!

Alice: I want to be a princess. 

Molly: What do you want to be, Alistair?

Alistair: I want to be like my dad, I s’pose.

Alistair didn’t talk much-- he definitely was shy and you could tell he wasn’t used to being around other kids, which was truly a shame. He didn’t have the communication skills that Alice and Molly had and by the sounds of it, he was living a pretty sheltered life-- private school and all. But if one thing was clear, it was how much Alistair idolised his father.

The kids played well together, all three of them dressing up as different Disney princesses. Before the movie even finished, they passed out and fell asleep on the floor. You didn’t bother carrying them to bed, not wanting to wake them. They looked comfortable enough in their LED lit castle made from blankets. So you just left them there, and changed into your own pajamas. You settled down for the evening with a glass of red wine and changed the movie to something you figured you’d enjoy more.

You found your mind wandering, thinking about the businessman whose son you were babysitting. In fact, you hadn’t even thought about Dave once. It was a welcome change. Maxwell was definitely gone for over four hours but he was so handsome, you absolutely could not stay mad at him for one moment. When the knock came at the door, at around 2a.m., you gasped and raced over to the mirror to fix your appearance the best you could. You grabbed your silk robe and wrapped it over your body before padding to the front door and unlocking it.

Maxwell greeted you with a bouquet of roses, and your jaw dropped. “Oh my--”

“These are for you.” Maxwell beamed. “An apology for being so late.”

“You really didn’t have too…” you smiled but graciously took the bouquet from him nonetheless. “Where did you even get these from? It’s so late. Nowhere’s open.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Maxwell hummed, watching you intently as you turned away from him to place the roses on the side table in the entryway.

His eyes clung to your body and he admired the way the silk robe hung against your perfect shape, emphasising the curve in your ass and even the way your nipples poked through the material. It was cold outside, afterall. When you turned back to face him, you noticed that his eyes were almost black and lust blown. You swallowed and offered him a nervous smile. 

“Alistair is asleep. Would you uhm-- like to come in? For a nightcap?”

“Yeah,” Maxwell’s response came instantly in a breathy sigh. He let himself in, pushing past you and his broad chest grazing against your own, much softer chest. “Nice place you have.”

“Oh… thanks. It’s actually not my home-- I mean, I live here but…”

“I used to live in this neighbourhood,” Maxwell muttered, nosing around the different rooms. “Before my big pay rise, obviously.”

You gulped and looked down, following him around the house. You opened the living room door. “Alistair is sleeping.” you whispered and Max just smiled. “The kitchen is this way. What do you usually drink?”

“Do you have whiskey?”

Yeah. Dave’s whiskey.

“Um yes… I think so…” you mumbled, checking the liquor cabinet.

You gasped when a strong arm wrapped around your waist and gave your hip a little squeeze. Maxwell nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and pressed a soft kiss into your skin. “Is it okay if I do this?” he whispered, licking a stripe across your jaw.

Your eyes snapped shut as you tried to fight back a moan. “Y-yes.”

Maxwell skillfully navigated his hand to the ribbon that binded your robe together and tugged on it so the thin material fell open. His large ring clad fingers rolled over your stomach and grabbed your tits, squeezing them a few times as he nibbled down onto your skin.

“Your wife… I mean-- uhm… Alistair’s mother?” you huffed, leaning into his touch. You had to make sure.

“Divorced.” Maxwell promised, and you smiled longingly before turning around and pressing your palms flat against his chest. He chuckled darkly and pushed the robe off your shoulders, letting it fall to the tiled kitchen floor.

He swallowed upon seeing you in your short lace nightgown, that cut off mid-thigh. He felt his cock began to throb within the confines of his tailored suit pants just from looking at you. 

“So… hard day at the office?” you cooed, helping him out of his suit jacket and tugging on his tie.

“So hard.” Maxwell grumbled, biting his lip before leaning in and capturing your lips into a kiss. You moaned under his touch and pressed your body into his. His hands found your ass you began to rub your knee over his erection.

“I see,” you giggled. “Would you… would you like to see my bedroom, Mr. Lord.”

Maxwell grinned and pecked your lips. “Yeah, but please, call me Max.”

Max. 

God, you were smitten.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You had been so caught up with Maxwell you had honestly forgotten about Dave. The same Dave who came home at around 3 a.m. every single night, who fucked you senseless until you couldn’t walk the next morning. He was a man who didn’t want to be messed with-- but shamelessly, you had completely forgotten about him. And poor Max hadn’t even got a warning. The second Dave got home and saw the discarded bouquet of roses on the side table, he saw red. Someone else trying to seduce you? That was never going to be okay with Dave. You were his and his only.

“Oh fuck Max please,” you gasped, thrusting your hips upwards as he needlily sucked on your clit. You arched your back, burying your face into your soft pillow. “So good.”

“You taste so fucking sweet.” Maxwell gasped, the curve of his nose nudging against your sensitive bud. You cried out with pleasure and grabbed a fistful of the blankets as you felt yourself begin to chase your oncoming high.

“Doesn’t she?” Dave’s deep voice came from the bedroom door, where he’d been watching Maxwell go down on you for the last ten minutes. Your heart dropped when you heard him-- and clearly, it was unexpected for Maxwell too. His chocolate brown eyes looked up at you as he tore his face from your soaking pussy. His lips were wet with the sheen from your arousal and he licked at them, relishing your flavour before turning around to face Dave.

Dave chuckled dryly. “No, please, don’t stop. I can't have you deny my nanny of an orgasm, can I?”

You felt your eyes go comically wide. “Dave I-- I can explain-”

“No need babygirl,” Dave reassured you, but his tone was dripping with malice. “Now… why don’t you show Mr. Lord how good you can be by cumming in his mouth?” 

Maxwell hummed in surprise and proceeded to press a sloppy kiss into the apex of your thigh before giving you a kitten lick between your folds. “Fuck!” you gasped, celebrating in the way his golden tongue felt like magic. He was a salesman, sure, and a persuasive one at that-- but Maxwell Lord knew how to use his tongue efficiently, that much was clear.

“Didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.” Maxwell growled, pinching your skin between his teeth.

“I don’t.” you sighed, tossing your head slightly and reaching down to lace your fingers into the CEO’s hair.

“So who is he?” Maxwell interrogated. You held back, knowing that if you replied he might stop lapping you up. It felt too good to risk it. Maxwell plunged a thick finger into your entrance without warning, causing you to squeal at the intrusion.

“Shit!” you cried out. Maxwell steadied his finger inside of you and began to brush the digit against your sweet spot as he began sucking on your clit, his cheek even hollowing. “I can’t-- I can’t hold on. I’m gonna--”

Your orgasm struck you before you could even get the words out. The hot blaze of wildfire rushed through your body and your mind was filled with such haze you hadn’t even heard Dave discard his belt and unzip his own trousers.

Maxwell dug his fingernails into your inner thighs as you came undone in his mouth. Gently, he pulled away from you again and stood up. His eyes followed Dave who was now naked and pumping his cock by the side of the bed.

“Who are you?” Maxwell changed his tactic by asking the darker haired man this time.

“You’ll soon find out,” Dave shot back. He turned to you and raised his hand, slapping your cheek so you focused your attention on him rather than Max. Maxwell was taken aback by his action, but truth be told, sex with Dave was always on the rougher side. “Open your mouth.” Dave commanded, and you happily obliged.

Still laying on your back, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. Dave pressed one knee down onto the bed next to you and pushed his cock in between your lips before fucking your mouth. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you adjusted to his length, and he thrusted into you with no remorse. You were used to it though, gagging around his girth and letting a mixture of your saliva and his precum dip down your face.

Maxwell’s eyes darted between you and Dave. He didn’t think he’d ever been this turned on before.

“Take your clothes off,” Dave said to Max, before groaning as you swiped your tongue along the underside of his cock. “Baby, why don’t you watch him undress.”

Maxwell stood up, even feeling slightly nervous. He shouldn’t be nervous. He’d hosted thousands of high press business meetings before, he’d even spoken at the White House and done broadcasts that had been seen by millions all around the world. He stood up and began to slowly undo the buttons down his shirt, and, just like Dave had requested, you watched him with a primal glint in your eye.

He was so hot. He wore an undershirt too. And when he took that off, it revealed a gorgeous tan chest. You watched him pull down his tailored pants and noticed the small pink blush cross his cheeks. That’s when you decided you actually, really liked Max.

You liked Dave too. Dave knew how to satisfy you in every way possible. He was always there, ready to go. And Dave was your protector. Somehow, you just knew that if anyone ever hurt you, Dave would make sure they never got the liberty of meeting you again. Dave was brutal, and certainly a little rough around the edges, but you didn’t mind it.

This thing with Maxwell though was new. He was handsome and polite. You’d never had a customer bring you red roses as a token of their appreciation before. He was flirtatious but also, so far, sex with him had been a lot sweeter and passionate. It was a new experience and you certainly weren’t opposed to it.

Once Max was completely naked, Dave’s lips curled into a smirk. “Good boy,” he cooed, and Maxwell felt his cock twitch at the appraisal. “You can use her, you know? Do whatever you want. Why don’t you fuck her?”

Of course the thought had crossed Maxwell’s mind, but he’d never got off with a woman in front of another man before. His delay in a response prompted Dave to speak up.

“I see you on TV,” Dave chuckled. “I know you’re not shy.”

That’s when Max remembered he had a reputation to uphold. Dave was right, he wasn’t shy. Maxwell Lord was powerful and he exuded confidence and charisma. He wasn’t going to let Dave intimidate him anymore.

You pulled off Dave with a wet pop and gasped for air. “He’s right Max,” you assured him, wiping your lips. “Anything you want.”

“I want a blowjob,” Maxwell shrugged casually. Dave quirked an eyebrow. 

“From me or her?” He asked incredulously and Maxwell felt his cheeks heat up even more.

“Her obviously!” Maxwell said, his voice heightening an octave and you burst out into a fit of laughter.

“Okay,” you agreed and gave Dave a tug on his dick. “Change positions.”

Still hard, Dave padded over to the end of the bed and Maxwell knelt next to you.

“You’re so big Maxie,” you hummed, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock and starting to jerk him off slowly. Your pace was teasing, but Maxwell didn’t press you to go further. He knew you would in your own time. The nickname ‘Maxie’ had the blonde haired man throb in your hands and you giggled, pressing a sweet kiss to his tip.

Dave turned around from the bed for just a second, and opened the bottom drawer of your dresser. He knew you kept a box of very special toys underneath all your panties, since he was the one who had bought them for you in the first place. Opening the velvet black box, he sighed in delight, reflecting on all the different things he could use.

Dave took out a pair of padded handcuffs and presented them to both you and Maxwell, the metal chain dangling before your eyes. He passed the cuffs to Max and pointed his finger.

“Tie her to the bed. It’ll keep her still while I fuck her.” Dave ordered and you felt your pussy clench around nothing as you anticipated what was to come.

“Are you alright with this?” Max leaned into you and whispered, wanting to be sure. His hot breath fanned over your earlobe and it sent a shiver down to your core. You nodded your head ‘yes’ and Maxwell unclicked the cuffs before carefully attaching them to your wrists, and then the bars of your headboard. You wiggled around, getting comfortable before spreading your legs wide for Dave.

You already felt yourself becoming increasingly sensitive from when you’d just come from Max’s tongue, but countless experiences with Dave meant that you could go at least another two or three times.

“Shit baby,” Dave muttered under his breath, drinking in the sight of you. Your folds were glistening and it was clear that Max’s thick finger had already stretched you open quite a bit. “You’re beautiful.”

“Come on and fuck me,” you moaned before turning to face Max again.

This entire time you’d been stroking his length, and like a good boy, he’d just been taking it. But Max had asked for a blow job and that was exactly what he was going to receive.

You started by giving him small kitten licks along his slit, collecting his salty precum on your tongue. You had to admit, he tasted delicious. He was thick though, thicker than Dave, and you managed to wrap your lips around just his head before feeling the need to take a moment to let your mouth adjust.

As you sucked on his tip, part of you wished that you weren’t cuffed to the bed. You would have brought your free hand down to the base of his cock and begin to cradle his balls, squeezing them and tracing your fingers along the skin there. The guttural whimpers that escaped Max’s throat were enough to soak your cunt again, which was just as well when you started to feel the bulbous head of Dave’s cock teasingly slide between your pussy lips.

The shock when Dave slid his entire length inside of you came without a warning, and somehow, it got you to open your mouth even wider so you could fit more of Max into your mouth. You supposed it all worked out.

The sound of the chain clanking against the metal bed frame filled the room as Dave began to thrust his cock in and out of you, his movements fast and rough just like always. He pulled your legs over his head, giving him complete access to sink himself right into you. You wanted to scream as he filled you up, his cock brushing against that sweet spot he had memorised inside of you every damn time.

Instead, you forced yourself to keep your cool and continued sucking off Max. You made the effort to open your eyes and look up at the boy who you had wrapped around your lips. His once styled hair was now disheveled and falling into his face, and you had to fight the urge to push it back. His chocolate brown eyes were on Dave though as he watched the man fuck you fast and hard. Dave’s pace was bruising and you knew that you wouldn’t last long.

Dave could tell you were close by the way your pussy walls clenched around him, aching to milk him of his seed.

“Want me to cum inside of you, pretty girl?” Dave asked, and you nodded your head desperately. 

“Jesus-- fuck!” Max gasped, his large ring clad hands coming down to hold your head in place. 

“You gonna cum down her throat, Lord?” Dave quizzed, but there was almost a taunting nature to his question that Max didn’t like one bit.

Getting a few more sucks out of you, Max doubled back and pulled himself out of your mouth completely, depriving himself of his own orgasm. You were surprised to say the least.

“You could’ve-- fuck-- you could’ve cum down my throat,” you moaned as Dave leaned over your fully exposed body and thrusted harder. “I would’ve let you.”

But Maxwell’s eyes had caught focused on the velvet black box Dave had left out. Curiously, he wandered over to it and took a look at the contents for himself.

While Max was momentarily absent, Dave made it his mission to get you to cum again. He brought his thumb down to your clit and began to rub tight circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves. You were so wet, the noises that were coming from your cunt were obscene and if you weren’t already so comfortable around Dave, you might have been embarrassed. His thrusts became sloppy and erratic as he started to chase his own high.

He knew that the second you came, the second your perfect pussy tightened around his cock, he’d spill inside of you. So that was his goal.

Maxwell familiarized himself with a small bullet vibrator, silver in colour, and switched it on. The buzzing noise alerted both you and Dave, your heads snapping to face him. Dave halted in his movements and you couldn’t hide the way your lips curled into a grin, seeing Max with the vibrator in his hand.

“Come here and untie me,” you requested of Max. Max gulped and removed the handcuffs from your wrists. You rubbed the skin where they’d been gripping you and took the vibrator from Max. “Have you ever used one of these before?”

“Huh?” Max asked, furrowing his eyebrows together. He’d initially planned on using it with you. Holding it against your clit while Dave fucked you.

You giggled and held the vibrator to the tip of Max’s cock. The vibrations ran through his body and his eyes snapped shut as the pleasure consumed him. How come he’d never thought of trying this before? It felt so good.

Dave resumed fucking you and now, with your free hands, it meant you could stroke Maxwell’s cock. The combination of the vibrator and your hand was enough to send Maxwell over the edge.

He came, all over your face, his milky white seed spurting out. His load was impressively big and you opened your mouth wide for him, hoping to at least taste some of it.

After that, it was like a chain reaction. Once Max had finished, the feeling of his warm cum dripping down your skin sent you into a frenzy and you came around Dave, your walls clenching around his manhood. The feeling of you gripping him tighter than a vice meant that on Dave’s final thrust, he spilled inside of you, just like he wanted. The heat of Max’s cum on your face and the warmth of Dave’s cum fill you up felt amazing. You laid there, panting and breathless, wondering how you had ever gotten so lucky.

You tossed the vibrator to one side and extended your arms, pulling Max down on top of you and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “Was that okay?” you asked him, and he nodded his head, unable to hide the grin across his lips.

“Never done anything like that before,” Max admitted bashfully. “But I’d like to do it again.”

Helping Maxwell explore his sexuality like this could be really fun, you thought. You cupped your hands around his cheeks and he nudged his nose against yours. The intimacy between you both was outstanding and you loved every second of it.

“Good,” you smiled. “By the way, that’s Dave. He’s uhm.. I watch his kids.” 

Maxwell looked back over at Dave who was tidying up the little black toybox. “Hi.” Dave mumbled awkwardly.

You shot your employer a glare. “Really Dave? You just fucked the shit out of me in front of Max, and now you’re gonna be all weird with him?”

Maxwell reluctantly pulled away from you, stifling a laugh before putting his clothes back on. 

“You can uh, stay the night. If you like,” Dave offered. “It’s late and I’m sure you don’t wanna wake your kid up.”

Maxwell scratched the back of his head as he contemplated Dave’s comment. He made a good point. “I can take the couch?” Max asked. “I really don’t want to intrude.”

“Don’t be silly,” you smiled, interlocking your fingers with his and pulling him back over to your bed. “You can sleep with me… if you’d like.” 

And boy did Maxwell like the sound of that. “Do you uh-- do you sleep with her? I mean. Besides her?” Max asked Dave.

“He never sleeps next to me,” you replied for him. “Prefers to sleep alone like the cold man he is.”

“Whatever,” Dave sighed. “I’m going to bed. Night.” 

You rolled your eyes and blew Dave a kiss goodnight before turning back to Maxwell and pulling him back down onto the bed. You worked at the buttons of his shirt and pulled the expensive material off his broad shoulders.

“Is he… married?” Maxwell asked you nervously.

“Why? You interested?” you asked, a joking lilt to your voice, but Max just scowled. “No,” you told him. “His wife uh-- went missing a while ago. Before I worked here. She was presumed dead. Sometimes I think Dave killed her.” you scoffed incredulously and Maxwell’s jaw stood agape.

“Are you serious?” he asked and you laughed.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said, swatting his arm playfully. “Dave can be cold, and rough. But behind that mean face he’s actually a good guy. A good father.”

Maxwell nodded knowingly. “Well that’s good then.” he mumbled. It was so easy to compare himself to other dads out there, knowing he’d never be good enough for Alistair.

“Are you okay?” you asked Max, smoothing out his dark blonde hair and kissing his jaw softly.

“Yeah, of course,” Maxwell reassured you, suddenly flashing one of his famous, charming television grins. He picked the bullet vibrator up and twiddled it between his fingers. “What do you think about going for a round two?” he smirked. “Just us. And maybe this time I can use this on you?”

You smiled, roaming your hands along his soft chest. “I like that idea.” you whispered wantonly before attaching your lips to his and pulling him on top of you.

You liked Dave. He knew his way around your body, he knew how to make you feel good and safe. But Maxwell came with feelings. He was attentive and affectionate, things you’d never had in a sexual relationship before. You were excited to see where things went between you two.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711​​ @supernaturalgirl​​ @phoenixhalliwell​​ @ah-callie​​ ​ @stardust-galaxies​​ ​ @wickedfrsgrl​​ ​@goth-topic ​​ ​ @nerdypinupcrystal​​ ​ @wonderfulfluffer​​ ​ @kiwi-the-first​​ ​ @pedroepascal​​ ​ @castiel-barnes​​ ​ @honeymandos​​ ​ @rocketqueen​​ @ladycumberbatchofcamelot​​ ​ @dybalalover10​​ ​ @girl-obsessed-with-things​​ ​ @elena-myth​​ ​ @moth-guillotine​​ ​ @pedro-pascal-love​​ ​ @hayley-the-comet​​ ​ @pinkninja200​​ @maxiarapamaya​​ ​ @autumnleaves1991-blog​​ ​ @artsymaddie​​ ​ @harrys-stan​​ ​ @kennedywxlsh​​ ​ @cripplingmoon​​ ​ @cheekygeek05​​ ​ @mrschiltoncat​​ ​ @rye-flower​​ ​ @theamuz​​ @persie33​​ ​ @sleepylunarwolf​​ ​ @martellthemandalor​​ ​ @pedro-pastel​​ ​ @steeevienicks​​ ​ @rrtxcmt​​ ​@saphic-susperia ​@ladyjenny19 @readsalot73

Taglist for this one shot in replies.

[lubdubsworld]

Better Man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~`Just to see you smile, I’d do anything. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung x Oc

Rated 18 +

Post Divorce, Getting Back Together, Second chances, Angst.

Chapter 1    Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Do you ever truly know what someone is feeling?

You could spend decades , breathing the same air, hands held , your fingers brushing ....connected physically and even mentally but a person’s emotions, they’re hidden away. 

You only ever know what they’re willing to show .

And yet, 

all of us build relationships, convinced that we know exactly what the other person will feel when we act a certain way. Buying her flowers will make happy....visiting him at work will take away that little bit of stress.

But sometimes, what we think someone feels, may not be what they truly feel.

And that’s when your actions, well intended actions..... end up with disastrous consequences. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So....last night...” Jungkook’s teasing voice did nothing to ease the pounding in my head.

“I do believe you promised not to tease me about it if I drank two glasses of water, which I did by the way.” I told him firmly, trying to bring the words on my planner into focus as i squinted. Three meeting. Each two hours long. 

kill me now. 

“I wanted to ask HR to give you the day off but you have quite a schedule today. “ He said casually,  leaning over me to peer into the planner . I glanced at his wrist resting on the table, the expensive rolex showing that it was a little past 9. 

“ We’re planning out the Christmas campaign first and I have a meeting with Taehyung’s team in the afternoon so we can go over the contract see if they have any requirements and then the social media team in the evening at four to discuss promos and revamping the website.” I glanced up at him. 

He gave me a smile before casually leaning down, lightly gripping my chin and tilting my face up. I felt the brush of his lips against mine, fleeting and gentle. 

‘You’re beautiful.” He smiled. 

I blinked.

And then took a deep breath.

“Your wife...” I said softly. “ I saw her today.” 

Jungkook went completely still at that. 

“She was waiting in the lobby on my way up. I didn’t know who you were married to and I was a little shocked and also little upset because....” I glanced at him. “ She was my best friend in college. “

Jungkook swore. 

“Fuck.. I told her to stay the fuck away from my company. Did she say something to you?” 

i shook my head.

“I didn’t greet her because I wasn’t sure if she remembered me. And I wasn’t sure if i was remembering her right. i didn’t know she was your wife till i heard someone mention it in the elevator on my way up. Did you know that she and i knew each other?” 

Jungkook looked just a little guilty.

“When you first joined the company, she saw your resume on my cvomputer. told me a lot about you. She remembers you. Fondly. She wanted to come meet you but...things happened.  “ He shrugged.

Things like infidelity and divorces . 

“Ahh...” I smiled. “ Tell me i wasn’t another way to get back at your ex wife, Jeon Jungkook ssi...” 

He made a noise of protest.

“no... No of course not Christ...it’s just...I’ll admit she made me curious about you. She spoke of you being spontaneous and fun and wild and I’d seen you as this demure, elegant woman in the office. i was curious. I wanted to know which one was the real you. “

“Were you curious before she cheated....or after?”

“ Jang Mi...this isn’t what it looks like .. I’m done with her. She fucked my best buddy and ruined my fucking life...” He sounded pained. 

I frowned. 

“It’s hard to believe she would do something like that. The Aera i remember had a very strong moral compass.” 

“Yeah well, apparently, you can live whole entire lives with someone and never really know the person. Listen, do we really have to talk about my ex wife?” He asked, eyes shining with discomfort. 

I shrugged.

“I’m not fond of drama. I won’t tangle myself in a relationship that risks hurting a lot of people Jungkook. That’s just not the kind of person I am. I’m sorry.” 

He made a noise of impatience, shaking his head. 

“We won’t be hurting anyone... We have fun together. We like each other. We’re attracted to each other...that’s all that matters....” He said sharply.

“ If we were in our twenties , without kids ....maybe. But that's not how it is now. I have a son, you have a daughter and I think I’m not completely over my marriage yet.” I said softly. 

He froze.

“And i don’t think you’re completely over your wife either.” I smiled.

He glared at me. 

“Ex-wife.” He snarled.

“She makes you feel things, Jungkook. You need to sort that out before you start something new with someone else. I’m only saying this because we’re old enough not to 

He growled and punched the desk. 

“God, how can she keep ruining my life even when she’s out of it.” He muttered, stepping away from me and moving to the door. 

I watched him storm out of my office and bit my lip. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time evening rolled around, I was exhausted. But the day had been productive and I was happy because the contract had been finalized, the theme had been decided and we’d also spent an amazing three hours redesigning the website. Although it wasn’t in my job description I had studied web design in college and the creative department always welcomed my inputs. 

“You’re in a good mood...” Taehyung’s voice was a complete surprise and I turned to him, shocked. He was dressed in a black t shirt and blue jeans and sneakers and looked a whole decade younger. 

I felt affection rise up my throat so fast I nearly choked. 

“What are you doing here?”

“My agent told me you guys were incredibly cooperative today. She also told me you were quite possibly the loveliest woman she’s ever met and that I’m an idiot to have let you go.” He smiled. 

I laughed, shaking my head and my gaze shifted to the small bunch of tiger lilies in his hand. 

I felt warmth bloom in my chest. 

“You remembered.” I said softly, pleased. 

“Thirteen years since our first date.  The lily to my tiger. ” He held the flowers to me and I grinned, pressing the flowers to my chest. 

“Man I feel old.” I muttered.

“You are old.” Tae grinned and i grimaced, before tossing him a glare. . 

“You’re supposed to say I still look as beautiful as i did thirteen years ago.” I said. 

“But you don.t” He grinned impishly. “ You look a billion times  more  beautiful.” 

I felt the atmosphere shift, the air charged with something dangerous and i looked away. Usually, this was when I would laugh and throw my arms around him. Pull him close and press my lips against his , slip my fingers into his t shirt and trace the skin of his back. Feel his hands on my waist as he lifted me up to twirl me around and kiss me just like that. 

How often had we kissed that way? Thirteen years is a long time to count the number of kisses we’d shared. 

We both stayed quiet, looking anywhere but at each other.

“I...there’s a reason I came.” He said finally.

I glanced at him.

“Oh?”

“The lawyer. Ms. Lee she ... recommended a relationship counselor”

I blinked, my breath catching in my throat. 

“Taehyung we’re-”

“Just hear me out. Its not mandatory and it won’t affect the divorce in anyway. its just something the court offers all couples going through a divorce and we’re free to refuse it. “

“Did you?” I asked. 

“Did I what?”

“Refuse it. Did you tell her no?” 

He stared at me. 

“No.” He said finally.

I exhaled sharply.

“Wow.” I whispered, feeling jittery and unbalanced. He sighed and came closer, reaching out to lightly grip my wrists. I let him tug me closer into a hug and held him tight, my heart pounding with anxiety.

“Mia.... I just... I’m not saying we should try to fix this.... relationship.” He said softly, eyes gentle and pleading, “  I just think this whole thing has taken a toll on both of us and maybe we can heal better if we get the help of a professional. Come out of this with closure. Instead of battling guilt and regrets everyday. Just ....it could help us move on. Don’t you think?”

You could never really tell what the other person is feeling. 

I couldn’t tell what Taehyung was feeling right now? 

Hope ?

Hope that we would fix our marriage....

or maybe hope that he would finally move on from me.. Maybe this whole thing was his final attempt to end things with me for good. So he could walk out of my life forever without any lingering guilt or regret. 

I would never know. 

I clung to him harder and somehow the pain of the entire two years we’d been apart, rammed into me at once. 

I choked on a sob. Breathing became difficult and I felt myself gasping for air. 

“Mia?” Taehyung’s panicked voice was the last sane thought that registered. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I can stay the night if you want. I’ll sleep in the spare bedroom . ” Taehyung whispered,  seated on the warm fluffy blanket that he’d managed to dig out of the closet in the spare bedroom. i was already tucked into the bed, fingers clutching the satin lined edges . 

i shook my head.

“I know how much you need your gazillion pillows. Go on... I’ll be fine.”

“i feel terrible. i pushed you into a panic attack.”

I waved off the guilty words. 

“You didn’t . i was already a little frayed and i guess i haven’t really been processing all the stuff between us the way i should have. i just got a little overwhelmed.” 

A panic attack. At the age of 32. The last time i had one I was twenty four. I wanted to crawl into the bed and never resurface. 

Taehyung’s gentle fingers , stroking my cheek brought me out of my own head. 

“I was so scared.” He said softly and my heart ached.

“I’m sorry i scared you.” I said apologetically, gripping his wrists lightly and stroking the skin there with my thumb. 

“I really want to stay. i don’t think I’ll be able to sleep if I go home right now.” He whispered. 

I bit my lips. 

“Okay... but... You need to hug something. To sleep. “ 

He grinned at that. 

“I’m old enough to survive one night without a pillow, Mia .” he chuckled. 

I flushed, sinking deeper into the covers.

“Okay.” 

“You don’t have to worry about the counselor thing. I’ll tell Lee we don’t want to do any-”

“No!!” I said quickly, a lot  louder than I’d intended. 

Taehyung blinked.

“I just... I realized that I haven’t been dealing with any of this...the right way. I’m so confused and disoriented all the time and I .. I don’t mind getting some help. To sort things out. Just for myself you know...without the pressure of trying to fix...well us.” I finished .

Taehyung gave me a wide smile before bending down and kissing my forehead.

“ Okay, Mia mine. Sleep well, and I’ll see you in the morning.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

[bastillewolf]

Kinda Sketchy (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Request: “Can you do a part two of kinda sketchy where they slowly fall in love?”

Notes: Sorry this took me so long, but I had zero inspiration as the request left a lot of questions hahaha. Still fun to write, I hope you like it!

Tag list closed.

Chapter II

You’d fallen into a routine for a while. You’d do groceries, he’d do the dishes. You switched cooking, though it was also fine if neither of you felt like it, which is when you’d just order takeout or eat leftovers. But what seemed like the normal thing for two roommates to do on a spoken terms of agreement, it actually appeared you did those things for each other because you wanted to. You’d find some left over dishes in his room which you’d clean, and the next morning you’d find the forgotten tea on your nightstand already back in the cupboard. If you fell asleep working, reading, or watching something on TV, you’d somehow always end up in your bed even though you couldn’t remember getting up to get there yourself.

It had grown into this wonderful friendship between two people who had found it convenient to live together. You knew he could just as well live on his own now, knowing how big his YouTube channel had gotten within the time you’d first seen it up until now- in only a few months, at that. You’d asked him about it, but he’d simply brushed it off, saying it was easier for him this way. He wasn’t sure if he would ever do a face reveal, and having you go outside so he didn’t have to was a great bonus to the shared rent and company. It had hurt you slightly to hear him talk about it so plainly when you had already realized you were starting to feel more for him than you were supposed to.

It had started gradually, to be honest. You hadn’t noticed it at first. You simply took for granted all the times he jokingly bumped his shoulder into yours, or when he hugged you tight when he saw you needed it, or when he even kissed you on the cheek while having a debate with you on what a ‘chef’s kiss’ meant when you’d cooked a – if you may say so yourself – sublime meal.

But now, you had to miss all of those things. It seemed, when you agreed to his basic explanation of how easy it was for him with you living here in order to hide your disappointment, he’d seen it as a sign to stop doing all of those things for granted.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, please. But it’s just easier. I’ve gotten recognized before in a drive-through and I don’t want to go through that ever again,” he said.

You shook your head, even though your heart was plummeting down a set of stairs. “No, I completely get it. We’re roommates and it’s what we agreed upon. That’s it.”

“That’s it,” he repeated.

And that was it. The cups of leftover tea on your nightstand had started to form a fort, and you suddenly found yourself waking up on the couch in the middle of the night, feeling cold and grouchy as you realized you had to walk back to your bed. If you did sleep there until morning, you’d wake up from the sound of the coffee machine with a mumbled ‘sorry’ from your roommate, but other than that, he never said anything about it.

You’d wondered if he was angry with you. You’d even made a peace offering by cleaning up the mess in his room. Even that he didn’t mention.

So, one night while you were waiting on him at the table to show up for dinner, he didn’t come. He wasn’t in the apartment, he hadn’t texted you, he hadn’t left a note. He was nowhere to be found. Of course, you’d think something happened to him. You called Sykkuno first, and luckily you’d chosen exactly the right person.

“Oh, yeah! We’re playing Mario Kart, and he’s staying over. I thought he’d told you?” he said.

“Eh, no, he didn’t,” you replied, rubbing your eyes. “It’s fine. You guys have fun.”

“Thanks! You should come next time too, if you’re not too busy. Corpse told me how much work keeps you up.”

“He did?” you ask, sounding as monotone as could be.

“Yeah, but I think it’s just because he doesn’t want you to meet us yet. We kinda make a crazy first impression on everyone, and I’m pretty sure he wants us to be on our best behaviour when you come over… He- He does talk about you, a lot.”

“He… what?”

“Rae started teasing him about it, but then he brushed it off saying he’d never cheat on me, which is kind of weird considering we aren’t-“

“What did he say about me?” For a moment you felt guilty cutting him off, but your curiosity and heart got the better of you and Thomas didn’t really seem to mind.

“Oh, you know, how you’ve been taking care of him more than he’s ever taken care of himself. I thought it was kind of sad, but he talked about it pretty fondly. Rae caught a hint of that and started asking very personal questions, like what’s going on between the two of you, and then he stopped. I think he just doesn’t want to throw things out there, you know? I think he- Oh, here he is now! Do you want to me to hand you over?”

“No. Thanks, Thomas.” You’d quickly ended the call, but it seemed to late when you’d still heard him ask with that raspy voice of his, “Who are you talking to?”.

So, you ended up eating your dinner alone. He didn’t come home until after midnight, when you were still sitting at the same table, this time with your laptop in front of you doing some last bits of work so you wouldn’t end up falling asleep on the couch again.

You didn’t even turn around when you heard him walk in. He seemed to even hesitate for a moment, judging by his footsteps, before he said ‘hey’. You muttered it back, pretending to be engrossed in your work.

He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, before leaning back against the counter, his face turned to you. “You know, maybe you should just work in bed. I highly doubt falling asleep with your face smashed against the keyboard is very comfortable.”

You suddenly stopped typing, leaned your elbows against the table and linked your fingers together, looking him dead in the eye. “Maybe I want to feel the pain in my back as a punishment knowing I fell asleep like this again.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed.

You let a silence linger just a bit longer, before you continued typing and said, “You could’ve told me where you were.”

He was probably staring at you, but you still pointedly ignored him. “I didn’t know that was in our arrangement.”

“Well, I didn’t know our arrangement was that unpersonal to you. Seems like all I am is someone who just gets your groceries for you.” It was a low blow. But you just needed to make him feel the stabbing, the way he stabbed you.

“Jesus, I told you not to take that personally. That’s not what I meant at all,” he said.

“I didn’t take it personally until you thought that conversation was enough to start ignoring me,” you lied.

“I think you know just as well as I do why I’m keeping my distance.”

You met his eyes. Nothing you could see in there, besides the frustration, gave you any answers. You couldn’t help it, you were glaring back at him just as hard even though all you could feel right now was confusion. He shook his head and sighed.

“Maybe it’s time this agreement ends.”

The thought had crossed both your minds, but he was the one who had said it out loud. And probably stung harder for you than it would have for him if you’d cut the cord. He left you sitting there, with tears now blurring your vision, slamming the door behind him for good measure.

***

He wasn’t home again. It gave you the perfect opportunity to quickly pack the rest of your shit up and leave, quietly. A cowardly move, perhaps, but you knew you didn’t have it in you to face him for this. You still hadn’t found a new place yet, since everything in Cali was way too fucking expensive and most ads looking for a roommate even sketchier than the one from Corpse you’d replied to. One of your friends had come to your aid, however, so you had at least a temporary place to say without having to suffer in this tension any longer.

You were just shoving the last of your books in a cardboard box when your phone rang. It was Thomas.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Uh… well, I was wondering if you could tell us that…” Sykkuno hesitantly asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh- give me the phone-“ “Hey!” there was an evident struggle, before Rae was suddenly talking to you, clearly having ripped the device from Thomas’ hands.

“Corpse is acting all weird! We know something happened between the two of you, but he doesn’t wanna talk about it! It’s like he’s gone back to his brooding old self and I’m worried! So you better start talking!”

“Unless it wasn’t your fault-“ you heard Thomas call out. He was quickly shushed by Rae.

“There’s nothing to say. He made it very clear that our living arrangement was just that; an arrangement, and he stopped talking to me. I confronted him about it, he started saying vague shit and asked me to move out.”

“Wait, what did he say?! I need specifics!” “Rae talks Corpse language, apparently,” you heard Toast mumble in the background.

“He said ‘I think you know just as well as I do why I’m keeping my distance’,” you imitated, your voice not nearly going as low as his.

“Wait, what?”

“I think he just figured out I have feelings for him. I understand how he wouldn’t want to be friends anymore.”

“Oh my god, you’re both such idio-!“

The call ended before you could hear the rest of Rae’s frustration. You shrugged it off, understanding why she would be mad at you by upsetting Corpse. He was her friend first and foremost, after all.

You stuffed your clothes in garbage bags, tied them up and pushed all of it into the living room. You’d dusted, vacuumed, and taken the bedsheets off. While balling all of the laundry up in your arms, you heard the door open. You immediately froze.

Footsteps were coming closer. Maybe if you didn’t move he would think you weren’t here. You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to see that he didn’t care. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your hands were wringing the fabric of the bedsheets. God, you should’ve packed quicker. You shouldn’t have been so organized, you should’ve just shoved everything in a few boxes altogether and made a break for it. You should’ve.

He was at your door opening. The footsteps had stopped. You still had your back turned to him.

Just keep walking. Please, just keep walking, you pleaded, closing your eyes. Waiting for the final blow.

However, it didn’t seem to land. Not anywhere near you, at least.

You simply heard his breathing, which seemed more erratic than usual, but perhaps you were just imagining things. Please, just keep walking. Please, I can’t-

“Please don’t go,” he rasped.

Your brows furrowed. If anything, your eyes squeezed shut even tighter. He had to be joking with you.

But then he said your name, pleadingly. He stepped behind you, and you could feel his warm breath against your neck. “Please don’t go. I don’t want you to go.”

“I think you do,” you tried to convince him, as well as yourself.

His hands found his way around your waist and across your stomach until his chest was flush against your back. “No, I don’t.”

Your hands felt numb, so numb you barely noticed them dropping the bedsheets. He turned you around slowly, and you opened your eyes.

“I… heard what you said to Rae.”

“Oh.”

You watched as he leaned in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You didn’t stop him- of course you didn’t want him to. His lips pressed against yours gently, in a question, which you responded to. It was still laced with a certain hesitance, but not one strong enough to make either of you want to pull back. It was tingly, warm, and comfortable as the stress of the past few days came washing over you.

He smiled shyly as he pulled back. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew about how I felt.”

“I’m sorry too. I think we need to set up some things in our agreement about communication.”

“Please, no more fucking agreements. I think Rae would definitely kill us.” You both laughed.

TAG LIST CLOSED!

@annshit @simonsbluee @majolittlemixgurl18 @redosmo @mythicalreader @gracehaileym @leikarinn @its-bootz @ollwinchester @thehatredofshiprrick @curlyhairedbrock @thatbandchick39 @reddeserths @mitseuul @potenzel @tanchosanke @tooturntashbash @stephn-prkr @missingpuzzlepiece @sweetasphyxiation @goldiefox1 @imrisaluk @chimchimsugakookies @helena-way07 @danny-devitowo @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @cherry-piee @artist-bby @bluewneptune @bratttyaphrodite @eccedxntesiaast @faithneko @thebootythrasher @bethpiercwhy @theeerealpunkin @heartbroken-writer @chisaikuki @realnicoleworld @candystoregirl @derpygiraffe43110 @rintomoj @phantomamethyst @helloitsmeamie203 @falcon-arrows @nvthvlyy @ellomellows @loraleiix @ladolcedea @lunaruss @princess00wifi @pennnyroyalty @cultofandom @easygoingtheatre @crpseclt @thatonefangirlbornonfriday @myherotrashbin @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @martinimom @gummybear123 @sparklingblacktea @lovelynervouskingdom @kingsuals @weeblyheaux @flightsandfantasy @chanelle-jackson @actual-spawn-of-satan @dixielumsden  @consumegods @mirandabarry @ikearandl @narwhalsaremagicalbroski @armycandy10 @chillininahottub-withaghost @mitchiesdungeon @yeolliedokai @alyofmusic @qatiee @dzzizzi @johnjacobjingleheimerschmidt @leilanixx @thefuckthesaurus @hughugh20 @thanossexual @moneybagmara @squintyangel @motheroffae @arossebyanyothername @vacaprincess @jinxedanxrchist @peterparkerspjsuit @chrysanthykios @wildflowerwhore @punkrainbows  @justalilsimpsometimes @bunniwritesx @sunnsettee @justxanotherxshipper @alilshit @dekahg @laugh-like-the-moon @sadness-babee @corpsie-bby @corpsesgirl @dead-boys-stuff @roses-and-grasses @sakusawife @byunniebaekhyunnie @lazy-little-me @phantomamethyst @letsloveimagines @polahorvat @sokkas-paintings @possiblyanxioushuman @a-dot-dev @aniyahsucks @choicesstan1 @error-loading-sorry @bi-andready-tocry @agustdpeach​ @xibrokensunriseix @genjicats​ @forest-rav3n @devilishducky97​ @alyss01​ @anacrcarvalho​ @siriuslystupid​ @bakugonua​ @n0t-a-simp​ @notmewrongb1tch​ @c00ln3rdz​ @rolls-and-rolex​  @namjoons-crabssss​ @laurenfangirlsout​ @lickmyleeches​ @and-claudia​ @netflix-imagines​ @bigdickdaddysatan​ @iambashfulperson​ @helloitsmeamie203​ @peachdoppi​ @easygoingtheatre​ @danielle143​ @kyky9103​ @tayloryorkscurls​ @v-kouya​ @jeezkiddo​ @smokeynaomi​ @lukoivichi @boiled-onionrings​ @nerdinthecorner​ @corpse-husbandsimp​ @ramdomtails​ @elebeleb​ @captainbuckyy @smile-its-psychotic​

[sunfleurry]

Hold Me

Click here for part 1

Part 2 of Fires and Flames.

Disclaimer: I write stories and use Harry Styles as a face claim. In no way shape or form does my writing reflect how I perceive the actual Harry to be. These are my characters, the face is just a bonus!

“Have a nice evening!”

“You too!” I yelled back before clocking out of my shift and making my way out the door.

It was dark outside, the king of night that begged to be breathed in and admired. Normally after a nine-hour shift, I would be exhausted and more than ready to go home. For some reason tonight, I wasn’t in the mood to turn in just yet. It was summertime and I loved the city lights when it was dark out. I eyed my car parked on the curb and ignored it, opting to go for a walk along the pier not too far from MediBrooke Pharmacy where I worked.

A year ago, I was at a low point in my life. I tried not to think about it too often, but every now and then, I would compare my life now to then and it reminded me to be proud of myself. I got through it, didn’t let it affect my grades, and now I was set to graduate with my PharmD degree in less than twelve months.

There weren’t too many people around as I made my way to the boardwalk, the clicking of my heels on the wooden path echoing in the quiet night. I checked the time on my phone. 20:30.

The pier was big. It was more intimidating during the wintertime when the water was turbulent, but today, it was still as a predator.

There was a man at the end of the pier, right across my destination but I did not pay him any mind. He was leaning against the railing, head hung low as he stared into the dark waters.

I was almost at my destination–a spot on the pier right under a lamppost with a built-in heater. I had left my jacket at home. At the sound of my approaching, the man across from me looked over, and my steps faltered as I beheld his face.

“Shit,” I mumbled when my phone slipped out of my hand.

Trying desperately not to look at the man, I held the strap of my purse against my shoulder and bent over to pick up my cell.

“I got it,” his deep voice said.

I hadn’t heard him approach, but I watched as he crouched down and wrapped his fingers around the device before standing back up and holding it out for me.

Harry looked different. His hair was longer and he seemed bigger–broader. I could tell he spent a decent amount at the gym since the last time I saw him over a year ago.

I jumped at the sound of my name coming out of his mouth, and seemed to remember he was still holding my phone.

I grabbed it, carefully avoiding touching his skin. “Thank you.”

He nodded.

He watched me and I watched him–both at a loss for words. I never expected to see him after our breakup. I applied to transfer to a pharmacy school away from the city, yet there he was, at my favourite spot in town, looking at me like he was seeing a ghost.

“What are you doing here?” I asked finally, almost breathlessly.

He blinked and looked over my shoulder at the water behind me. “My nan lived here. She passed away last week.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Harry glanced back down at me with heavy eyes. Grief. “Thank you.”

A lump formed in my throat as I felt his pain like it was mine. I wasn’t sure if he even had any family left. He never gave me details when we were together.

With him standing there in front of me, I felt an internal dam break, and memories and emotions started flooding to the forefront of my mind. Pain, happiness, heartbreak, love… It was all rushing back to me.

With him standing there in front of me, I felt an internal dam break, and memories and emotions started flooding to the forefront of my mind. Pain, happiness, heartbreak, love… It was all rushing back to me.

“How are you?” The words came out of his mouth with care but also with wariness.

“Fine.” Five minutes ago, I wanted to add. Because I wasn’t fine anymore, not with the source of my heartbreak suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

He nodded.

“You?” I wanted to slap myself. His grandmother just died; of course he wasn’t doing well.

He saw the look on my face and smiled reassuringly. “Habit.”

I smiled gratefully at his understanding.

Harry suddenly grabbed my elbow and pulled me towards him. I didn’t get a chance to react as my body fell into him before a group of teenagers ran by us right where I was standing. Had he not reacted, they would’ve toppled me over.

“Sorry!” One of them yelled half-heartedly over his shoulder.

I breathed heavily as I watched their bodies get smaller and smaller the further they ran away.

I didn’t realize how comfortable I was engulfed in Harry’s scent with my cheek pressed against his chest before he started pulling away, releasing my elbow.

I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”

He rolled his lips inward and rubbed the back of his neck. “You look good. Very professional.”

I looked down at my pleated pants and button-down shirt and offered him a small thanks. “I work at the pharmacy down the street,” I explained.

He smiled. It was the first genuine smile I’d seen on him since we ran into each other. “I always knew you would succeed in what you do. You’re still studying?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to mimic his smile, but I was too busy trying not to cry in front of him. “One year left.”

“I’m so proud of you,” he said. I knew he meant it.

I bit my lip. “I know you are.” He always used to tell me how proud he was of me. Despite the way he treated me, the way I let him treat me, I knew deep down that he cared for me. He just didn’t know how to show it.

His smile fell as the memories of us came back to him. I was positive he was thinking about all those times he cooked us meals or did the dishes while I stressed over my notes, preparing for my exams. He was always supportive of my career choice and did his best to make me comfortable while I doubted myself and my capabilities of succeeding in my program.

“Look, can we just—“

“Harry?”

I whirled toward the foreign voice to see a woman whose beauty rivals any Hollywood actress approach us with a relieved smile.

“Harry,” she said again while wrapping her arms around his waist. I watched as he wrapped his own around her shoulders and held her at his side. “I was looking everywhere for you,” she scolded. “I convinced myself you fell in the water.”

He chuckled. “Sorry, I got caught up.”

It was then that the woman looked at me, as if just noticing my presence. Her blue eyes were so bright they were mesmerizing even in the minimal light offered by the pier in the darkness of the night.

She held out her hand, displaying short manicured nails. “Hi! I’m Christina.” She held up her other hand that was clutching car keys. “His chauffeur, apparently.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic.” Then he addressed me. “Christina and I met around nine months ago. She wouldn’t leave me alone since.”

“You would be lost without me,” she scoffed.

Harry only looked at her with fake annoyance for a few seconds before nudging her playfully. “Yeah, you’re right.”

She laughed.

I watched the interaction between the two with more care than I would’ve wanted to admit. A part of me felt hot jealousy start boiling from the pit of my stomach, another part of me was over the moon seeing a smile on Harry’s face that didn’t seem forced.

My eyes flicked to Christina’s hand that was clutching his forearm. I used to do the same when I caught a girl staring at him–I would touch him to silently warn her he was mine. Was that what Christina was doing at the moment?

I couldn’t suppress frowning as I forced my eyes to look away.

“We’re going to be late,” I heard her whisper.

Harry cleared his throat and said my name.

I didn’t want to look at him. I wanted to hide the tears that had already formed in my eyes that I knew must be already as red as my cheeks.

He touched my shoulder as a second attempt to get my attention.

I finally blinked up at him.

He inhaled. I shook my head with as much subtleness to make it noticeable to him only. He seemed to understand.

“Christina and I need to go.” He said, sympathy coating his voice.

I cleared my throat. “Okay. It was nice seeing you, Harry.”

He took a step toward me then seemed to stop himself. Were you going to hug me Harry? Kiss me? Why did you stop?

My eyes flickered to Christina who was texting someone on her phone with one hand, the other still clutching Harry’s forearm.

“I’ll see you around,” he said. It almost sounded like a question so I nodded.

I stood under the heating lamp post and watched the pair walk away.

_______________

“Just one shot, come on!”

My friends cheered when I finally gave in and took the shot glass from Jeremy.

I laughed at their antics before throwing my head back and welcoming the burn in my throat.

“To our final semester!” Someone yelled. We all cheered.

I made a nice friend group in my new university. I met Jeremy first when we were assigned to work together for one of my courses, and he introduced me to his friends who turned out to be great people. Today, we wrote our last final exam of the semester. We all agreed to go out and treat ourselves to a more expensive club for some celebratory drinks before the winter break separated us.

A popular song started playing and suddenly the bar blew up in cheers and synchronized singing. People rushed to the dance floor like a herd of elephants. I watched them stumble over each other, trying to find their friends to enjoy the song when a hand cut into my view.

I glanced up to find Jeremy’s brown eyes on me waiting for me to put my hand in his. When I did, he pulled me off the stool and I swiped my purse off the counter as he dragged me towards the crowd of moving bodies.

Being in the crowd made me realize it wasn’t as dense as it seemed from our table. Jeremy wrapped an arm around my waist and held my hand up to the side as he encouraged me to move to the beat with him while keeping a respectful distance between our bodies. That last detail didn’t go unnoticed by me. I appreciated it.

The song ended but another played, and the crowd screamed to the loved and familiar beat. Even I couldn’t help but sway my hips and mouth the lyrics as Jeremy lifted our joined hands and twirled me. I squealed at the motion and slammed into his chest clumsily, the both of us giggling before we continued dancing with everyone.

We stayed on the dance floor for two more songs before I told him I needed some water. He nodded and walked behind me as we started making our way to our table when I heard him ask, “What’s up, man?”

Frowning, I turned around and found him speaking to someone whose hand was on his shoulder.

I risked a glance at who caught his attention and my heart stuttered when I recognized Harry. As if feeling my gaze on him, Harry’s eyes landed on me and mind fogged up. I didn’t know what to think as I took in his soft wavy hair and green jumper that made his eye colour brighter than it actually was. I could hear him  ask Jeremy if he could steal me for a second, eyes never leaving mine.

Jeremy looked hesitant at him, unsure who Harry was but then turned towards me, passing the decision on to me.

I nodded and Jeremy’s bent his head to be at eye level with me. “If you need anything…”

I offered him a smile. “I know him.”

He seemed to relax and smiled back before making his way towards our table where the rest of our friends were watching the exchange.

I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I was left alone with Harry. My breath hitched when I chanced a glance at him and realized he was already staring at me.

“Harry,” I said quietly, enough that he could hear me over the music.

“Can we talk somewhere more quiet?”

He seemed to have noticed my hesitation. He took a step forward. “You can tell your date if it makes you more comfortable.”

I frowned. “More comfortable? You think I’m scared of you?”

Harry bit his lip and looked away.

I touched his arm. “I would never…”

I felt his bicep lose tension under my fingers as he let out a breath, as if he was afraid I didn’t trust him with me alone. It broke my heart, if I was being honest.

I followed Harry to the entrance and he held the door open for me to walk outside. The air was cool, nothing I couldn’t handle under the summer night with my skirt and long sleeve blouse. The quiet of the night hit me like a brick as we stepped out of the crowded club into the silence of the almost empty street.

Harry led me to the nearest bus stop, silently asking me to sit on one of the wooden benches before joining me. I smoothed out my skirt, nervously playing with the seam.

He cleared his throat. “So… How have you been?”

I inhaled, and the scent of his cologne overwhelmed my nose. I welcomed it. “I’ve been good,” I said honestly. I was. I moved to a new place, made great friends, got the job I wanted and I was set to graduate soon.

Harry smiled, looking almost like he was relieved. “I’m glad.”

I played with a frayed end on my skirt. “You?”

“Same.”

I peered up at him, thread forgotten. His piercing eyes were already looking at me, wide and he started nodding.

“I mean it. I am good,” he smiled. “I’ve been getting help, I changed jobs, made friends.”

My heart swelled for him. I put my hand on his and squeezed. “I’m proud of you.”

He separated our hands and I suppressed my disappointment. “I just wanted to bring you out here to check up on you. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” I breathed. “Thank you.”

I couldn’t deny that everything about the interaction was awkward. I could’ve asked Harry about what help he’d gotten, about his new job, his friends… But when we were together, over a year ago, I learned not to pry when it came to his personal life. I wasn’t sure if he still felt that way.

We were swallowed by an uncomfortable silence, neither one of us sure on how to approach any subject that came up in our minds. I started focusing on my breathing as I prepared myself to stand.

“I think I’m going to head back inside,” I said, eyes everywhere but him as I picked up my purse and smoothed down my skirt.

He relaxed into the bench. “Your date must be worried about you.”

I stopped. “Jeremy is not my date.”

Harry’s head snapped up. “I didn’t mean to assume…”

I huffed a laugh. “It’s okay, he’s just a friend from school. I’m here with a group of them.”

I could tell he was recalling the people at the table Jeremy headed to before we went outside. “They seem nice.”

“They are,” I smiled. I decided to take the bait. “What about yours? Do I know them?”

He shook his head. “Just Christina. I, um, I met her in therapy.”

I had to swallow down the rising jealousy at the mention of her name.

“She was kind enough to wait with me even after her appointment was over,” he continued. “I was rude and cruel towards her, at first. I think I was trying to chase her away. I didn’t want anyone’s pity, but she stuck like a bucket of glue.”

I chuckled. “It’s hard to stay away from you,” I admitted.

His face fell. “I felt like I didn’t deserve anyone’s attention, not after what I did to you.”

It was like a bucket of water was dumped onto my head, my expression immediately morphing into one of sadness.

“Christina became a big part of my healing. Sometimes I felt like I didn’t deserve her help because I’m a grown man. I don’t need someone holding my hand along the way, but she was there. And I’m grateful for it.”

Hearing him talk about another woman like that had my feelings in a puddle. I wanted to be happy that he found someone who he could relate to and guide him through his pain and his past but I couldn’t quash the betrayal for the simple fact that he refused my help but accepted that of a stranger’s. I didn’t say anything though. No, I would never even think of interrupting him. I watched him with wide eyes as he explained everything because this was the first time my Harry had ever spoken this much about himself so freely. It made me want to cry.

“She was also dealing with some things of her own. For some reason, she still wanted to stay by my side and I kept her around. For selfish reasons, she reminded me a lot of you.”

I stiffened at the confession. He studied my reaction but I tried to pretend like it didn’t affect me. I knew I failed when my voice came out shaky and disbelieving. “Why?”

“I don’t know… She was stubborn, always forcing me to do what’s right for me even though I fought it. She checked up on me all the time, and she just…” He held my stare. “She cared.”

My eyes started watering and my anger was slowly rising. “And why, Harry, if she was so much like me, did you not think of me and all that I did for you, instead of finding someone who was just like me?”

His shoulders slouched and I watched as he fiddled with the pendant against his collarbone. “Because I didn’t deserve you,” he said pointedly. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to mother me. I was holding you back from being happy all because I refused to take care of myself.”

The tightness in my chest worsened. “You don’t get to decide what’s right for me.”

Harry’s jaw clenched. “You’re the one who left.”

I gasped. “You’re really going with that argument?!”

He sighed and slumped back against the wooden bench. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry you let me leave to instead be with another woman who reminds you of me?” I rolled my eyes.

Harry rubbed his chin as he regarded me with lines forming between his eyebrows. “Be with… Are we still talking about Christina?”

I wanted to scoff with disbelief. “Are we having the same conversation?”

“You think I’m with Christina? As in…she’s my girlfriend?”

I felt my jaw slacken. “Are you not?”

It was then that Harry threw his head back, laughter escaping from his mouth. I watched him with my widening eyes as I replayed our conversation in my head to figure out what was so funny.

He said my name with laughter in his voice after a few seconds of trying to calm himself down. He cleared his throat and turned his body to face mine on the bench. I tried my hardest to ignore the hand he laid on my knee. “Christina is just a friend.”

I shook my head. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “Besides, I don’t think her girlfriend would appreciate her cheating with me, a man.”

“Girlfriend?”

Harry’s smile widened. “She’s gay.”

I was at a loss for words. “Oh.”

My stomach fluttered when Harry lifted his hands and held my face between his palms. “You think I would replace you?” He asked quietly.

I prayed he couldn’t hear my rapid heartbeat. “I—” I tried to communicate with my eyes that I didn’t want to answer that question. I didn’t know the answer to it. He’d been unpredictable throughout our relationship and I wasn’t sure if he had changed or not and I refused to believe it until I saw it.

Harry gave me a mirthless smile and let go of my face. I felt heat in the spots where his fingers touched my skin and I almost asked him to put them back. “I miss you,” he whispered.

I closed my eyes then, and the tears I tried holding back fell down my cheeks. I tried stopping them, but they started coming faster and I didn’t have the choice but to drop my head into my hands to silently cry. Many thoughts and emotions were flying through my mind and I couldn’t keep up with their overwhelming pace. I felt Harry’s arm wrap around my back and pull me to him until I was flush against his side.

“I’m so sorry,” his voice broke on the last syllable. I felt him kiss my hair and squeeze me harder as I cried harder. The past year, I pushed my emotions back. I suppressed any thoughts and feelings left behind by Harry and focused on work and school. I ignored all stimuli that reminded me of him. At this moment, I knew that it was a bad idea as the heartbreak flooded my senses and I couldn’t escape it no matter how much I tried. Harry never let go as he wrapped his other arm around me until I was pressed against his chest, the fabric of his jumper muffling my sobs.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, holding me for the next few minutes until I finally stopped crying. I didn’t let go right away, I wasn’t ready to. I missed him immensely and didn’t have the willpower to separate from the familiar feeling of being so close to him, or the smell that is so distinctly Harry that it comforts me no matter where I am. After I controlled my breathing, I finally mustered up the courage to push off of him and face him.

“You didn’t bring me out here to just check up on me,” I said, not leaving room for the statement to sound remotely like a question.

Harry sighed. “No, I didn’t.”

I stared at him while holding my breath in anticipation. I knew what was coming before he even said it, but I still felt anxious.

He swallowed audibly and craned his neck to the sky as he gathered his words. “I want to try and win you back.”

Heat tingled in my heart and it spread like wildfire over my skin until I was covered in a mix of relief and desire. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I figured,” he nodded. “I don’t want you to make a decision right away.”

“I wouldn’t be able to even if I wanted to,” I said honestly.

Harry’s head dipped to his chest and he started fiddling with his necklace again. He expected my answer, but still hoped I wouldn’t say it. “I understand. Which is why I wanted to ask you out on a date.”

“A date?”

He smiled. “I want you to get to know me–”

“But I already know you.”

“No,” he said. “I want you to meet the new me. I want you to give me another chance to prove to you that I am not the Harry you knew.”

The reminder of who he was reminded me of who I was with him. I was happy to be with him, I loved him. I still do, I realized, but the love I had for him overshadowed the anger and pain that our relationship carried for the year and a half we were together. He was full of self-loathing and that only took a toll on who we tried to be–who we used to be. There was Harry, in front of me, promising a second chance for the relationship we had sans the pain and I didn’t know if he was serious or not.

I looked at him with helplessness. “I don’t know…”

He rubbed his upper arm, a nervous tic I recognized a long time ago. “Please. Do you still love me?”

His piercing gaze was suddenly too intense for me and I looked down at my lap. “Why are you asking me that?” I stammered. The day I confessed my love for him was the day I left him. The memory only brought a squeezing sensation to my heart. Heat prickled in my eyes.

“I just need to know, if you still do. Because, I was too much of a coward to tell you,” he took my hands in his and held them up between our chests. “I love you too.”

I felt lightheaded as my mind processed the last four words he’d just uttered. A whimper escaped me before I threw a hand over my mouth.

“Don’t cry,” Harry whispered, bringing my hands to his mouth and pressing kisses to my knuckles. “Please.”

I expelled a shuddering breath. “I think it’s the shot I took an hour ago catching up to me.”

Harry laughed, only because he recognized my attempt to lighten the mood.

I stared at our joined hands as I tried to regain my breathing. My palms started sweating when I thought more and more about the two of us together, something I never imagined becoming a possibility ever again. I glanced at him to see nothing but genuine hope in his eyes.

Harry confessing his feelings to me was something so foreign, my body had no idea how to take it and create a reaction. It was unknown territory and I promised myself that I must tread lightly all the while keeping maximum defence surrounding my already fragile heart.

Knowing Harry, he would never lie about something like that, he had always been a straightforward man. He was against bullshitting and it was with that thought in mind that I finally stared back into his eyes and said:

“Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.”

[angellesword]

MAGIC SHOP | JJK (08)

Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?

Alternatively:

“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.

Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader (side pairings: Reader x roommate!Jimin | Taehyung x Yoongi)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

Series: CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 9

Chapter’s OST: Talk by Kodaline

"Where is he?" Yoongi didn't sound annoyed when he asked this. He knew he should be but then he realized he was more worried than angry.

"In my room," you responded. Yoongi gave you a quick nod before rushing inside your bedroom.

You were left standing in front of your apartment door, waiting for Jimin who you guessed was parking his car.

You wondered if your roommate was upset too. You couldn't blame him if it was the case. You knew it was cruel of you and Taehyung to bail on your double date with him and Yoongi tonight.

However, if you were given a chance to redo this night, you would probably still choose to go home with your brother.

Pretending was becoming taxing on your part. You were sure Taehyung felt the same way as well. He was done acting like he could walk inside a fine-dining restaurant and pay for his meal. Yoongi said Taehyung didn't need to worry about things like bills—that he got it, but your brother was too proud to allow that to happen.

Taehyung and Yoongi had been dating for almost two years now, yet the former still felt abashed when money was involved.

He was so opposed to the idea of Yoongi treating him well. Taehyung didn't like the idea of him leeching off of Yoongi for money. You, on the other hand, were done acting as though you weren't hurt every time you see your brother struggling because of this.

Taehyung burnt himself out by keeping his promise to pay back Taemin. As far as you knew, he still owed your father an estimate of eight hundred thousand dollars. Taehyung had no idea how to pay off his debt, considering that his bank account had zero balance now.

He couldn't even afford to pay rent that's why he usually stayed in your shared apartment with Jimin. Taehyung's excuse was that he didn't like staying alone in his place so he'd rather sleep on your couch.

Yoongi asked your brother to move in with him but the Taehyung refused, saying he wasn't ready to take their relationship into another level. You and Yoongi knew it was a lie. It broke your heart every time Taehyung made lame excuses like this.

You wanted him to be able to freely express his life struggles to you. You would never judge him. It was okay to admit that he turned down Yoongi's offer because he didn't want to be dependent on him, that he didn't want to feel like he was 'useless.'

There should be no shame in admitting that you were having a hard time. It was a normal thing. Many people experienced it, but even if only the minority experienced it, we should still be understanding since not everyone was privileged, some people were struggling just to survive—this was Taehyung's case as of the moment.

He was a freelance model and he's still working as a curator, not at his mother's company though. Taehyung hadn't spoken to his parents, not even to his siblings. You were the only family member he talked to.

Sometimes you felt guilty thinking that one of the reasons why Taehyung turned his back on the Kims was because he wanted to help you forget.

"Come to New York with me," your brother offered this to you a week after you broke up with Jungkook.

You were miserable. You were having a hard time pushing Jungkook away. He was so persistent, begging you to take him back, saying things like he would do whatever you asked him too.

But you couldn't. Everyone knew he and Soojin were getting married. You couldn't afford to shame and hurt your sister like that.

"I could hook you up with this company. They're looking for a graphic designer. You're perfect for the job..."

You had to admit that you were skeptical about Taehyung's preposition. Sure, you wanted to get away from Jungkook, but not to the point of leaving Seoul.

It felt too rushed. New York was a foreign place, you hadn't been there before. You didn't know if you could survive there.

"I don't know, oppa..." You expressed your doubt, fortunately Taehyung knew exactly what to say to successfully coax you.

He said you had nothing to worry about since he would be there for you. Taehyung also promised to introduce you to Park Jimin, his best friend since high school.

Apparently, Jimin was the sweetest person in the world and you needed someone like him in your life. Taehyung thought that the universe wanted you to be close to Jimin since it so happened that the latter was also looking for a roommate.

Originally, Taehyung planned to move in with his best friend to save more money, but he figured it would be best if you took the opportunity instead. As said, your brother wanted you to hit it off with Jimin. Apart from this, Taehyung believed he was better off alone.

He was wrong though. Few months after moving back to New York, Taehyung realized he couldn't handle his expenses.

He needed a roommate too. Sometimes he hated himself for turning down Yoongi's offer, considering that the sole reason why Yoongi decided to go to New York was to be with Taehyung.

Your brother wasn't stupid. He was certain Yoongi was in love with him. The long distance type of relationship wasn't working anymore. They both crave each other's touches and kisses.

A few months after you and your brother left Seoul, Yoongi called to say he had been offered a job in New York too. He said he accepted it despite Taehyung's opposition.

It wasn't like Taehyung didn't want to be with Yoongi. Your brother was just upset that his boyfriend was making all these sacrifices for him. Yoongi was a well-known fashion designer in Korea. Why would he want to be an assistant of a fashion designer here in the United States?

It was absurd. But Yoongi didn't complain. He never did. Many months later, his patience and hard-work paid off.

Yoongi was able to close deals with different clients using his own name. He wasn't hiding in the shadow of his boss. He wasn't an assistant anymore. This was also the reason why Yoongi wanted to go out on a double date with you, his boyfriend, and Jimin tonight.

He wanted to celebrate his success with the people he loved, but Taehyung's 'mood' ruined Yoongi's night.

"Hey," while you ruined Jimin's.

"Hey you." Your roommate's voice was laced with exhaustion upon seeing you waiting for him at the door.

Your heart recoiled at the sight of his tired face. You were aware that his job as a professor was exhausting, it didn't help that he and Yoongi waited for two hours in that restaurant only to end up leaving and not grabbing something to eat.

"I'm really sorry about tonight," you smiled apologetically. You hated disappointing him.

"At least I saved some money." He laughed and this was when you came to know that he was holding a box of pizza.

A smile bloomed on your face.

"Is that garlic and shrimp?" You couldn't contain your excitement. Jimin chuckled and nodded at you, pleased that you appreciated the food he brought.

"Yay!" You grabbed the pizza box, rushing towards the kitchen so you could open it.

Your stomach grumbled, your eyes turning into the shape of a heart as you grabbed a piece of pizza.

"So good!" You moaned, relishing the taste of your food for tonight. Jimin grinned, handing you a can of beer.

You gladly took it. Jimin knew you so well. Pizza and beer were your favorite food combination.

"Corndog’s sold out," your roommate mentioned as he grabbed a slice of pizza for himself.

Your smile faltered. Yeah, right. How could you say that pizza and beer were your favorite when nothing could ever top corndogs, your favorite brand of probiotic drink, some chocolate bars, and Jungkook's smile?

"Is everything alright?" Jimin asked softly when he noticed your frown.

"Yeah."

Should he believe you?

"How's Tae?"

"Better, I guess? Yoongi's with him right now." You wanted to give them some slices of pizza. Taehyung's probably hungry, but then you didn't want to disturb him and Yoongi. Maybe they're still in the middle of a serious conversation.

Your brother's most likely explaining to his boyfriend why his mood suddenly turned sour. Yoongi asked you to tell him the truth, sadly you felt like you're not in the position to tell him anything.

You didn't even understand what's running inside your brother's head, and so you simply texted Yoongi and Jimin this: have to take a rain check for dinner tonight. sorry. Tae oppa's not feeling well.

"What about you?"

Your head snapped up to meet your roommate's thoughtful gaze. "What about me?"

"Are you okay?" Jimin sounded so sweet that your heart was filled up with so much warmth. Taehyung's right. You needed someone like Jimin in your life.

"I'm fine," you lied. You're not. Lately all you could think about was him and what could've been. "Wanna watch Breaking Bad and hate on Walter White?"

The worry painting his face vanished when you mentioned his favorite T.V series.

"I still don't get why you hate Mr. White when a whole Skyler White exists." He gasped dramatically, shaking his head before making his way to the living room.

You sighed, smiling albeit the pain in your chest. You couldn't help but compare the two men who had a huge impact in your life. The first one never forced you to share, he was very easy to reassure that you're okay, the other man, on the contrary, wouldn't stop until he's sure you're really feeling better. He liked prying into your personal life, acting like he could stop your despair.

Your chest ached because between the two men, you didn't know who you preferred.

Yoongi and your brother couldn't be bothered and you were certain it was because they're busy fucking. It was Taehyung's way of making it up to his boyfriend.

"He's getting so worked up over a fly! Gosh, he's so annoying!" And your way to make it up to Jimin was trying to keep your dislike of Walter White to yourself. Keyword here? Try. It was so hard not to talk shit about Jimin's favorite fictional character.

You tried. But you couldn't anymore.

"oh gosh," you pouted when you noticed your roommate's being too quiet. "I'm not supposed to rant because I know you're mad at me."

That broke his silence.

"I'm mad at you?" He looked at you as if you're crazy. "Why would I be mad?"

"Uh..." You winced. "Because I bailed on our date?"

Jimin laughed. He actually laughed! The corner of his mouth twisting upwards.

"I guess I haven't made myself clear about that, huh," he rubbed his chin, realizing that he didn't explicitly tell you it was okay, that you didn't owe him anything.

"I like you..." He confessed, uttering your name. "You know that, right? I'm glad you even agreed to go on a date with me."

You bit your bottom lip.

"But liking me doesn't mean you're not allowed to get mad at me."

Jimin chuckled again, amusement was dancing in his eyes. He lowered the volume of television before turning to face you.

"But I'm not mad. I know what I was getting myself into when I told you how I feel about you. Liking someone means you should also accept the risk of getting hurt, you know?"

You shuddered, heart thumping. You felt like your head was spinning.

As usual, Jimin simply giggled at your reaction.

"You're acting as if liking someone is such a scary thing..."

"It is." You replied, voice still mixed with slight fear. "Love too. Imagine waking up one day only to realize that someone has the power to hurt you."

You made that mistake once. You're still paying for it now. Love...be it romantic familial, or platonic, it still hurt the same. You made sacrifices for them, making yourself your last priority when it should be the top one.

"Imagine waking up every day realizing you have the power to make someone's life a little bit better, and doing it." Jimin retorted and for the first time, you couldn't answer.

You simply rested your head on his shoulders, grabbing the remote to increase the volume of whatever episode of Breaking Bad you were watching.

At the end of the episode, you saw Walter White closing his eyes, finally dozing off, a yawn escaped from your lips and before you knew it, you fell asleep too.

You jolted to consciousness when you heard your phone rang.

Grunting, you immediately answered the call even though an unknown number was ringing you. Jimin was sound asleep beside you. You couldn't risk waking him up.

"Hello?" You squinted, sleepiness still staining your eyes. "Who's this? Why're you calling me in the middle of the night?"

There was a pregnant pause on the other line, making you huff and yawn in annoyance. Was this a prank call?

"I'm gonna end this call if you don't speak." You yawned again when the caller still didn't say anything. "Goodnight—"

"Wait!" The stranger said before you could hang up.

Your heart suddenly skipped a beat. The voice of this caller sounded familiar—too familiar to the point that you could feel your stomach stirring.

"It's Jungkook," he mumbled. "Jeon Jungkook..."

He said his name as if you'd ever forget that. Your stomach continued to protest.

"I'm sorry for calling you so late..."

You were holding your breath, unable to speak.

"But it's an emergency."

"Emergency?" You startled, very awake now. Jimin stirred in his sleep because of your abrupt alerted movement. "Where are you right now, Kook? Are you okay? Did something happen?"

You stood up, pacing back and forth. Jungkook was silent once again. You felt tears filling your eyes. Why was he taking this slow when he said it was an emergency?

"Y-Yeah," his voice was shaky, as though he was having a hard time. Your heartbeat doubled as he said this:

"You and Taehyungie-hyung have to go back here in Seoul. The whole family needs you."

[sariahsue]

Footsteps

Marinette’s about to get married to her soulmate, a man she’s never met before. Too bad she meets that cute groomsman in the hallway first. Rated G. 4,000 words.

***

Marinette bunched the white lace of her train into her fists and walked faster, eyes searching the empty marble hallway. Just keep walking. She could get through today. One foot in front of the other.

All she needed was some fresh air. She thought a building as enormous as this one would have at least one window that she could open. Instead, sunlight streamed through vaulted arches taller than the bakery she'd lived in her whole life, mocking her.

Marinette poked her head around a corner into a side hallway, saw nothing but closed doors, expensive paintings (that couldn't be an actual van Gogh, right?), and a plush white rug, and walked past.

All she needed was a few quick breaths, a little bit of air to cool off her flushed face, and a few minutes away from her hovering family and bridesmaids so she could pull herself together. And then she would get right back.

How big was this building? Each hallway she looked down offered a new way to get lost, with smaller hallways coming off of the side hallways and as many doors as there had been guests and staff just an hour ago. She gripped her train harder. Staff that had disappeared to the banquet hall to set up for the reception. Guests that were nowhere in sight because they were being seated in the chapel right now.

A door snapped shut somewhere behind her, and she whirled around, her heart in her mouth at having been caught, but no one was there. Her eyes traced crystal vases on marble tables only put there to break up the vast space the building contained. Nothing moved. And nothing looked familiar.

Can I even find my way back now? 

It was a problem she would have to deal with later. She didn't have the capacity for one more thing to go wrong right now, so she marched forward to continue her quest.

Her heels click-clicked as she walked across the polished floor, and she could have sworn she heard the door closing once again.

The shoes were going to give her away. With shaking fingers, she reached down and unstrapped them. They swung from her hands as she kept going.

Just a few days ago, Marinette had been so excited to finally meet her soulmate and get married. Why had the feeling deserted her today?

She knew the answer. All week it had been building, but now that the day was here, the swirling anxiety that had been simmering below the surface of her joy just couldn't be ignored any longer.

Most people gave themselves a few weeks or at least a few days after meeting their soulmate to get married, but her husband-to-be, Adrien, had insisted on being "traditional." No seeing each other until the wedding. She hadn't even talked to him on the phone yet. They would fall in love at first sight, as she walked down the aisle. If she'd met him before, maybe right now she wouldn't be so-

Marinette bumped into a glass-topped side table, sending the empty crystal vase on top tilting dangerously. Dropping her train, she managed to grab it before anything smashed. She stood there, frozen, listening, waiting to see if anyone would scold her, but no one was around. With a whispered "Sorry!" at the vase, she put it back in its place and kept searching through the maze of hallways.

It must have cost a fortune to rent this humongous mansion for the day. A new worry stuck in her throat. I'm not going to be able to fit in with my husband's family, am I?  Adrien would love her completely. That's just how it worked. But what if her in-laws hated her because her parents weren't rich too?

Her panic spiral was halted by the sight of a familiar blue rug pattern in one of the side hallways. Marinette made her way over, window quest forgotten, and she tripped over her dress the whole way there.

The long, white walls were filled with paintings of fruit and flowers, like the ones she used to make in art class (but with lighting skills so good it made her want to cry), and no… she hadn't been down this way before. Even as upset as she was, the artist in her would have remembered.

Marinette took a few seconds too long to glare at an apple, and by the time she heard the whispering, it was far too late for her to hide.

"Sneaking," a male voice whispered.

Marinette turned toward the voice. Had someone seen her? Did someone know she was roaming the building alone? She saw no one. And she saw nowhere she could quickly hide.

A few feet in front of her, the hallway turned a corner and continued out of sight. Some of the hallways had been like that, leading to more corridors and rooms that she hadn't bothered to explore. The footsteps came closer.

"Sneaking around the corner."

If she held very still, maybe he wouldn't notice? She walked backwards and pressed into the white wall, the fabric of her dress rustling loudly with every step, every breath she took.

His shoes squeaked as a hunched figure came into view.

"I'm not sneaking!" Marinette blurted out as soon as she saw him.

He jerked up straight.

She noticed three things instantly. He was blond. He was holding his hands around his eyes, like binoculars or a mask, and he was in the nicest tuxedo she had ever seen.

The man was also quite a bit taller than her, but he still jumped back in alarm when he saw her, and finally lowered his hands. Brilliant green eyes went from shocked to soft and warm and inviting.

"S-sorry," he finally said. "I was the one sneaking around. No worries."

"Oh," Marinette said, heart beating in her throat. "Right. I wasn't sneaking."

He smiled, and Marinette was glad she was already leaning against a wall. He had to be the single most beautiful human being she'd ever met her in life.

"Um, nice to meet you?" he said. When he held out a hand to shake, she quickly took it. His hand was soft and gentle and warm. No ring on either hand that she could see. Gorgeous and single!

Guilt swept through her, making her drop his hand. Here she was, getting married in literally a few minutes and ogling someone else. But he was still smiling at her. No, she had to stop thinking like a single woman. But he was so pretty.

"Of course. So, uh," He looked down at her dress. "You must be the bride, huh? Marinette? Nice to meet you."

Sweat prickled on the back of her neck. Judging by his outfit, she'd just been caught by a member of the groom's wedding party, a groomsman or a family member. Would he tell her future husband that she was out here getting cold feet? Not that it wasn't true, but she didn't want her soulmate to know about it.

"And you are?" she asked, hoping to divert attention away from herself. "One of the wedding party, right?"

"Yeah," he whispered and reached for her hand again. "I am. I was out here looking for you. I'm A-"

She shrank back. No matter how much she wanted to, she shouldn't be thinking about him this way. She was getting married to someone else.

The man dropped his hand quickly, eyes roaming her face, like he was looking for what he had done wrong. When he couldn't find anything, he ran his fingers through his hair and stammered out an apology. Marinette watched each lock fall back into place, the light catching each strand and making him glow.

"I'm-" he tried again, a blush rising in his cheeks. "Ni- W-winston."

"Winston?" Marinette couldn't help but laugh a little. That was the least French-sounding name she'd ever heard.

"Winston the groomsman," he said, not looking at her. "Yes, old family name. My father's name, and his father's name, and I think I have an old uncle. Because we're British way back there somewhere on my mother's side-"

"Nice to meet you, 'Winston.'" It was apparent he was nervous, and she didn't want him to feel uncomfortable, so she changed the subject. "What are you doing out here? You were looking for me?"

"Um." He looked around the hallway for inspiration, and Marinette immediately regretted her question as she watched his discomfort grow.

"I- He- The groom wanted to meet you before the wedding," Winston confessed.

"He did?"

"Yeah, he wanted to break tradition and see you, but Fa- his father is stifling stick in the mud."

"Yeah?" The knowledge was somehow both comforting and unsettling. She and her future husband had both wanted to meet first, but her father-in-law… she wasn't going to fit in.

"Yeah," he breathed. "He can't wait to meet you. But he couldn't get away, so I thought I'd come out here. And, wow, he's going to love you. You're amazing."

Marinette flushed at the compliment. "Isn't that how it's supposed to work? Love and first sight and everything?"

"Sure," Winston said, "but you know what I mean."

In the distance, an organ started playing softly, but Marinette barely heard it. This man would go through all that trouble for a friend of his? He was so kind, and she was going gooey under his intense gaze.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked quietly.

Just like that, the glow was gone. Would he believe the truth, that she was just hoping for some fresh air? He might be sympathetic. But he might not be. Who would feel sorry for a bride on her wedding day?

"I was… looking for the bathroom and got super lost." She adjusted her skirt with one hand to give herself something to do and then laughed nervously. "This place is such a maze."

Winston didn't answer right away. He studied the train of her dress, mouth a thin line of disappointment. Her shoes dangled from her loose fingers as she waited, and she adjusted her grip.

"You don't have to get married today, you know," he said. "You can call it off."

Marinette squirmed at how perceptive he was - or maybe she was just obvious - and pushed her hair out of her eyes. When it fell back into place, Winston reached out to tuck it behind her ear but stopped himself. His hand hung there awkwardly between them until he let it slowly fall.

"It's okay to be nervous," he said. "I know lots of people who didn't go through with their weddings. Loads."

Marinette smiled at the lie, grateful he was trying in spite of everything, though she was still a little worried he was going to tell Adrien about this conversation, or that word would somehow get to her future in-laws. She wasn't sure which would have been worse, giving her in-laws ammunition or disappointing Adrien.

"No, I really did get lost," she said. "I didn't mean to get all the way over here." And to make it sound convincing, she added, "Do you know the way back?"

"I can walk you." Adrien stood up straight, his smile returning.

"Oh, you don't have to," Marinette said quickly. There might still be a chance for her to find a window and that breath of fresh air she'd been hoping for.

"I insist." Winston held out an arm for her, and like the idiot she was, she eagerly took it. His free hand settled over hers, and they began to walk.

Her heels swung from her other hand, and without their added inches, the difference in their height was ludicrous. But Winston didn't comment on it, just matched her pace without making her feel rushed.

Together, they left the small hallway and stepped back into the still deserted main hallway. Sunlight poured through the windows, reflecting off the gleaming floors and sparkling crystal chandeliers high above. Winston's hand on hers was comforting, and he was so sweet to help her, but now there was no chance for her to get away.

Feebly, she said, "I think I recognize this part now. You can get back."

"Oh, they won't miss me," Winston said. "I'll make sure you get back safe. Is there anything else you need?"

Marinette sighed. As kind as he was handsome, and she hoped he never removed his hand from hers. Why did he have to be so nice and gentle?

After several more turns, she really did start to recognize things. How had she wandered so far? Her family must have been worried by now.

Marinette didn't bother to escape from him again, and Winston didn't let go of her, even when they stopped in front of the bride's room with its white and blank, gleaming, bronze plaque.

"I can't wait to see you coming down the aisle in a few minutes," Winston said. He lowered his arm, and her hand slipped away from his sleeve. She felt the loss of his touch immediately. "I mean, if you still want to," he added quickly.

"I'll be fine," she squeaked. "Thanks."

"Okay," he said, waving goodbye without moving away. "Great. See you."

Yup. He was definitely the most adorable, sweet, and beautiful man she'd ever met. "Why couldn't I be marrying this guy?"

Winston took a step back. "What?"

Huh? She'd said that out loud? She'd said that out loud! 

Fumbling for the handle behind her, Marinette said a hasty goodbye and launched herself through the door and slammed it shut without looking at his expression. What was she supposed to do now?

"Girl, where have you been?"

In seconds, Alya, Sabine, and Tom were gathered around her. Marinette leaned her back against the cool door, wondering if Winston was still staring at the spot where she'd been standing.

"Are you all right?" her father asked.

"Just needed some fresh air," Marinette said, staring at their shoes. "Then I got lost. Have you seen this place?"

"Marinette," Sabine said, lifting her daughter's chin with one soft hand. "You can tell us the truth."

The tension in Marinette's body all came out in a rush. Her shoulders slumped, and she slid down the door two inches.

Tom brought over a chair, and Marinette tried to sit down, only to find that her dress was caught in the door. What else could go wrong today? Without peeking into the hallway, she opened the door and removed her train - to her relief, it didn't look like she'd ripped it - and then collapsed into the chair.

"It's okay to be nervous," Sabine said.

Marinette nodded, though that wasn't the entire problem anymore. She was supposed to be marrying a friend of "Winston's" in a few minutes, maybe his best friend or even his brother. He would be standing there, witnessing her marriage, knowing what she'd just said. How was she supposed to show her face out there now?

Her parents and Alya doted on her, trying to put her fears at ease, but it was only making everything worse. She couldn't ignore her anxiety while everyone was talking about it. They flitted around the small room, fetching her water, guiding her to sit down in front of the triple mirror vanity, offering to brush her hair out. "That always calmed you down when you were little," Sabine said.

Marinette nodded.

"If it makes you feel better," Tom said, "I'm sure he's just as nervous as you are. I was nervous, too."

"Everyone expects you to be a little anxious." Sabine picked up the bristle brush while Marinette avoided looking at herself in the mirror. "You're marrying someone without ever having met him. That's terrifying. But you're going to be okay."

Marinette nodded again, dumbly. They waited for her to say something, respond with her usual cheerful attitude, and when she didn't, Alya jumped in.

"Sabine, didn't you get married and move to France at the same time?"

All four of them knew the story. Marinette had grown up hearing it, had loved hearing her parents' own love story.

"I found out my soulmate's name two days after my twenty second birthday," she said. Marinette could almost mouth the words along with her mother, they were so familiar. "I couldn't believe he was so far away. I started teaching myself French almost immediately, but the first time we got on the phone to speak to each other, all I could say was hello!"

A tug on Marinette's scalp told her that Sabine had found a small knot. She set the brush down and started to pick at it with her fingers.

"I moved away from home to a strange country, and was learning a new language, and was nervous about meeting my soulmate, but as soon as I saw him, it didn't matter," Sabine said. "You're going to be fine. As soon as you see him, you'll love him, and everything will be okay."

"I know all that," Marinette said. "But I'm scared now!" Not to mention distracted by "Winston," and the crushing guilt that reminded her she shouldn't be.

"Well," her father cut in. "What do you want to do about it, Marinette? Do you feel like we should wait a little bit?"

"Yeah," Alya added. "We can tell them there's something wrong with your dress or whatever if you need a few more minutes."

"I'm sure Adrien would understand," Sabine said. "He seemed very kind when we talked to him."

A few more minutes sounded wonderful, a chance to collect herself, do delay the inevitable. Or a chance for her anxiety to get worse. She took a deep breath. "No, let's just get this over with."

"Very convincing." Alya picked her clutch up off the vanity and started fishing around inside it. "You sound so pumped. Let me just text Adrien." Alya pulled out her phone.

"No," Marinette said, covering the phone with one hand. Her fake nails clicked on the screen.

"Waiting's not going to make it easier. I don't need any more time to worry. It's like you said, when I see him, everything will be fine. So let's just so see him. I want to see him."

"All right." Alya dropped her phone onto the table and grabbed the eye shadow. "Come here, then."

Marinette sat as still as she could while Sabine finished her hair and Alya did her makeup and Tom hovered around, asking what he should do to make her feel more comfortable. When they didn't give him any ideas, he started telling funny stories from Marinette's baby days.

Marinette only half listened, making sure to smile when someone else laughed. Maybe Winston had asked "What?" because he hadn't heard what she'd said. She had said it quietly, after all. That was logical.

Eventually, Tom had to leave the room to check on how things were progressing. Marinette missed his voice and his stories. The silence was too easy for her anxious mind to fill.

If she could just make it a few more minutes, if she could just make it to the altar, then she'd fall in love with her soulmate at first sight and everything would be great. No more worrying. No more wondering.

The final piece of her outfit, her veil, was laid out neatly on the flower-print sofa, waiting for her. When Alya declared her face perfect and Sabine could find no hair out of place, Marinette strapped her heels back on and stood, knees shaking, and retrieved her veil. She seemed like another woman in the mirror as she watched herself put it on.

Marinette did want to meet Adrien. She did. A few days ago, she'd felt excited. Just his name was enough to put a smile on her face. Her parents had met him, and she'd devoured every detail of him they could give her. Elation had bubbled through her chest as she had designed her wedding dress. It had taken weeks to finish simply because she was having so much fun designing it that she hadn't wanted to stop. If she could remember what it had felt like then, maybe she could recreate the feelings now.

The door creaked as it opened, and Tom walked back in. "It's time," he said, extending his arm for her.

Marinette plastered a smile onto her trembling lips and leaned on his arm to compensate for the weakness in her knees. No one else needed to know about her struggle, least of all Adrien.

The walk down the hallway to the chapel didn't take as long as Marinette thought that it should have. The organ music was too loud, but still not loud enough to drown out the breathing and whispers of a room full of hundreds of people, everyone who was ever important to her, and more that she would get to know well in her lifetime as Adrien's wife.

The processional song began to play, and Marinette walked in, staring at the pink petals on the carpet in front of her. Pews creaked and fabric rustled as everyone stood for her. And she kept her face down.

Don't make eye contact with the groomsmen. You're getting married to Adrien, so don't look for adorable "Winston."

Marinette forced her face up, searching out the people she knew. For her bridesmaids and Alya, her mother in the front row. Her school friends throughout the year, aunts and uncles who had flown from all over the world. A few held tissues, some waved at her. They were all smiling.

Everyone was smiling except for her.

She should be looking at her new husband - her soulmate - for the first time. He was probably looking at her. Had he already fallen for her? Was he wondering why she wasn't looking at him?

That curiosity was nothing compared to how much she wanted to look for the man she'd met in the hallway. There was something seriously wrong about that. It went beyond the guilt that she felt. It was a strangeness in the situation that she didn't have time to think about.

The line of petals thinned and disappeared halfway to the altar, and the organ music swelled.

The temptation was too great. Marinette raised her eyes, looking at the groomsmen first, looking for the friend that shouldn't have liked as much as she did. Because she was marrying someone else, she reminded herself as she quickly scanned their faces. And because she had only known him for about two minutes. What was wrong with her?

Her gaze skimmed them all twice, three times, but Winston wasn't there. Her footsteps stuttered to a halt before taking a big step to match her father's long stride. The hand holding her bouquet started to sweat.

Could he not bear to watch her marrying someone else? No, that was ridiculous. He didn't feel the same way. He wasn't feeling torn like she was.

He had definitely been part of the wedding party. He'd said so. So who was he?

The carpet ended, and Marinette heels clicked on marble as realization clicked into place. He was part of the wedding party, but not one of the groomsmen, so that must have meant…

For the first time that day, her heart pounded from something other than anxiety.

Marinette held her head high and looked for him. And she found him. "Winston." It had been a ridiculous name anyway. Adrien suited him much better.

Adrien smiled broadly at her. That wonderful smile she first saw out in the hallway was now a hundred times brighter, focused solely on her. He had snuck out to see her, had so gently guided her back when she was lost, had made sure she was comfortable, and offered to call off the wedding.

No wonder she had liked him so much. Love at first sight, just like everyone said.

He reached out a hand for her as she took the last few steps to the altar. Marinette slid her fingers into his, and they fit perfectly.

"Hi, Winston," Marinette whispered as she nestled herself into his side. "Could the groom not get away again? Are you getting married for him too?"

"I said the groom was going to love you," he said. "And I was right."

The last notes of the organ faded away, and a hush settled over their friends and family. This was it. They stepped together up to the altar. The first step of their lives together.

***

Author's note: Merry Christmas! You're getting something completely un-Christmasy. Huge thank you to @ours-polaires, @khanofallorcs, @vivalasaturn, and @noirshitsuji for reading over my outline of this and making sure everything made sense!

[sachigram]

“With Teeth” Chapter 5

((click here to read on ao3!!))

Izaya is frowning down at his computer, his hands hovering above the keys of his keyboard, not moving. Next to him, Namie is typing away, a bemused little smirk on her face. She's enjoying this, clearly, and she's itching to say something biting.

“You're handling this better than I thought you would,” she says, her tone forcibly bored. Izaya blinks at her, lifting his hand to motion for her to continue. “Your little monster friend has a girlfriend now. He'll have less time for you, right? I assumed you'd be setting fires across the city by now.”

“You know what they say about assuming,” Izaya says breezily. “If anything, she's distracting him enough to leave me be.”

The chatroom is full of people chattering away about Shizuo and Vorona, who are spending a lot of time together, holding hands, exchanging glances, sharing beverages. It's sickening. Izaya feels vaguely nauseous just reading about it, but he thinks that's probably due to his insane schedule at the moment, and his lack of sleep. He keeps meaning to take a healing potion, but he forgets every time.

“Distracting. Right.” Namie types another response, fanning the flames of all the rumors circulating about Ikebukuro's hottest couple. Her smirk drops, and Izaya can't resist the temptation to dip into her mind, just a little, to see why she isn't enjoying this as much as she thought she would.

She's thinking of Seiji, of course, but also of Mika, and of Celty's head, and all the times she's been overlooked in favor of someone else. She thinks Shizuo dating Vorona is distasteful, because she's set on the idea that Shizuo must be fucking Izaya, and that's why he comes by so often. Izaya withholds a snort at that, and he graciously doesn't comment on the fact that Namie could probably have anyone she wanted, if she wasn't so obsessed with her own brother.

“Who cares, anyway?” Namie asks, closing her laptop. “The two of them together probably have conversations as interesting as watching paint dry. It's not worth even talking about anymore.”

“I couldn't agree more,” Izaya says, pushing away from his desk. He tilts his head at her. “Let's order out for dinner. My treat.”

“In that case, I'm craving something expensive.”

“Of course you are.”

***

Izaya is watching the sunset from a small window when he realizes he must have fallen asleep. He isn't at home anymore, and this is beginning to feel like the kind of dream he's been dreading to have lately, one where he knows Shizuo will show up at some point.

“Who are you?” A child's voice asks from behind him. Izaya turns, looking down at Shizuo, who is in a hospital bed, his arms wrapped, a brace around his neck. He's frowning up at Izaya, who sighs loudly before plopping into the vacant chair next to the bed.

“Oh, why does it even matter? You won't call me by my name anyway.” Izaya pulls his knees up to his chest and studies Shizuo closely. “You're here alone?”

“My family just left.” Shizuo looks up at the ceiling, seeming to decide that Izaya isn't a threat to him. “They used to stay with me a lot, but this happens all the time now, so they can't stick around as much.”

“I see.”

“I'll only be here one night anyway.”

“So who was it this time? Was it another fight?” Izaya asks.

“It's not like I wanted to fight.” Shizuo's eyebrow twitches. “I threw a swingset.”

“A swingset?”

“Yeah, but apparently it was bolted into the ground or something. Really fucked me up.”

Izaya can't help it. He laughs hard, curling into himself as he does so.

“Hey, fuck you, it isn't funny!” Shizuo snaps, but he seems to be trying not to laugh himself. “Well, maybe it was a little. The look on their faces was pretty funny.”

“Did you at least manage to hit them?” Izaya asks, still giggling at the mental image.

“No. Turns out all the time I spent lifting it gave them some time to escape.”

Izaya laughs harder. When was the last time he found something this genuinely funny? Lately all he does is work until he passes out, and he deserves it, he knows. Still, as he feels tears stinging the corner of his eyes, he thinks he feels good now, here with this kid version of Ikebukuro's monster. There doesn't seem to be anything else to do but talk to him, and their dreams keep connecting them no matter what Izaya does. He's tired of fighting it.

Shizuo is gazing at him with poorly concealed awe and wonder.

Pretty.

Izaya snorts at Shizuo's thought. What's so pretty about this scene right now? The sunset outside? The various machines hooked to Shizuo, beeping idly in the background? Shizuo keeps looking at him, and Izaya realizes, feels his face grow hot.

“Who are you?” Shizuo asks again.

“Your worst enemy.”

“Really? You don't seem all that bad.” Shizuo shifts a bit, winces. “You're not scared of me, are you?”

“Not now, not ever.”

Shizuo nods, and his lip wobbles. “People tell me all the time they aren't scared of me, but I know they are, deep down. How could they not be? They'd have to be crazy. But...” Shizuo chokes up, laughs a little. “I can tell you mean it. And if that makes you crazy, I think that's okay, because it feels good to not be feared, for once.”

Izaya lowers his legs, leaning closer to the bed. He idly touches the flimsy fabric of the blanket draped over Shizuo, who is watching him curiously. Izaya looks away.

“Sometimes you're so pathetically simple it makes me want to vomit. Sometimes it feels like a chore, hating you. Did you know that?” Izaya asks softly, and there's a long pause after his words, no sounds aside from their breathing. Even the machines have somehow gone quiet.

“So then why do you?” Shizuo asks at last.

“Isn't it funny that it's been so long of us hating each other that I forgot what caused it in the first place? I think you did, too.” Izaya crosses his arms over the bed, puts his head down. “People like us will always be at each other's throats. It's just the way it is.”

“You sound like a grownup,” Shizuo says, glaring now. “They always say that, when they don't know the answer to something. 'It's just the way it is.' If you don't know, then why does it matter in the first place?”

“Believe it or not, I am a grownup. I'm only a kid right now because you're one, too. We're always the same age in these dreams, even if only one of us remembers the future at a time.” Izaya lifts his head enough to grin at Shizuo, who blushes and immediately turns away. He seems to be trying to gather the courage to say something, but there's suddenly a knock at the door, and Izaya turns towards it. “Expecting someone else?”

“Huh?”

“There's knocking.”

“I don't hear anything.”

Izaya stands. “Oh. This may be in real life. I think I'm waking up.”

“Waking up? Does that mean leaving?” Shizuo's eyes look panicked. “When will you be back?”

“I never know. Why do you keep wanting to see me so badly? You're the one pulling me back here, you have to be.” The room starts to grow fuzzy as the dreamscape begins to fall apart around them.

“You're not scared of me. You laughed at me instead of running— Fuck!” Shizuo seems to be trying to get up to grab Izaya, but he can't with his arms bandaged. “Tell me your name so I can find you again!”

“You'll just call me a flea anyway, won't you? So it doesn't matter.”

***

Izaya opens his eyes to discover he passed out at his desk at some point. He sits up and frowns at the container of pasta next to him. He remembers ordering dinner for himself and Namie, and then...

“Ugh. Of course she just left,” Izaya mutters to himself. Namie is an opportunist if nothing else. She isn't the type to stick around and see what happens next, unlike Izaya. Another knock sounds at the door. “Who is it?” Izaya calls, feeling sluggish. He checks his phone to find he's been asleep for about two hours.

“Me!” Shinra's voice replies, muffled from the door. “Let me in, would you? I've been knocking forever!”

Grumbling, Izaya makes his way across the room, opening it for Shinra, who waltzes inside like he owns the place.

“Hi! I'm working late tonight, and I didn't have time to eat dinner before I left, so I figured while I was in Shinjuku I could come see what you had—“ Shinra stops talking and tilts his head to the side, observing Izaya. “You look awful. What have you been up to?”

“Also working,” Izaya says. He reaches up to wipe crusted drool from the corner of his mouth. “So you came to raid my fridge?”

“Ah, yes!” Shinra turns and continues his march to the kitchen. “I just got done with an emergency call, and next I'll be going to visit another patient. I didn't want fast food, so here I am! Did Yagiri-san make anything?”

“Should be leftovers somewhere around here.” Izaya looks back at his own pasta, feels his stomach rumble. He can't remember the last time he really ate or slept fully.

“Why don't we eat something together?” Shinra asks. “You look ready to fall over.”

Izaya ends up tossing the pasta. It was congealed together, and not very good in the first place. Namie picked the place to order from, but he'll definitely complain enough about it later to where they don't order from there again. Shinra actually goes through the trouble of throwing together some fried rice, because Izaya doesn't have the ingredients for much else. He'll have to send Namie for groceries.

“So what are you working on so religiously, anyway?” Shinra asks as they sit down. “I haven't seen you this absorbed in work for a while.”

“It's not just one assignment, but multiple. All of them are due around the same time.” Izaya eats a bite of rice and shrugs. “It's just poor timing.”

“More than that though, right? I heard Shiki-san was pissed at you for multiple reasons. Sounds like he's keeping you overloaded on purpose.” Shinra smirks at him. “You can never leave well-enough alone, Izaya-kun.”

“'Well-enough',” Izaya scoffs. “If he had his way, I'd be locked in a cage, of use only to him and his little cronies.”

“That's what you signed up for. You'll get yourself killed if you keep meddling. I mean, come on, Akane-chan? What did you think would happen by sending her off on her own like that?”

“Who says I was behind any of that? Akane-chan has a smartphone. Kids like her are always going to be involved in things, because they want better than they're given.”

“I don't believe you, and I know Shiki-san doesn't, either. It's clear he's punishing you, but...” Shinra leans closer, lowers his voice like he thinks Shiki is in the next room. “To be honest, I thought you'd have it way worse than this. You ordered Shizuo-kun's attack too, didn't you? I thought Shiki-san would hang you upside-down.”

“Again, Shinra, you're reaching way too far. I never said I was responsible for Shizu-chan either.”

Shinra pouts, and then sits back in his chair, shoveling down more rice. “Fine. Don't tell me. Just take better care of yourself, at any rate. It's not like you can't cure the effects of fatigue with your power. You're choosing to suffer, right? But then again, you've always been like that.”

“Don't you have another appointment soon?” Izaya asks, annoyed by Shinra and his big mouth. He's often wondered if friendship is supposed to be this exhausting, but it isn't like he has anything else to compare it to. Shinra was always the only one crazy enough to stick around.

“I'm only saying. You should accept your punishments and actually learn something from them every now and then. It seems like you just bounce back, more determined to make a nuisance of yourself than before.”

“If I don't make a nuisance of myself, I'll die from boredom,” Izaya lilts. “It's really that simple.”

“More like you're worried about being forgotten.”

Izaya resists the urge to throw something at Shinra, who is wearing a strange expression, something akin to actual concern.

“You've improved on your acting ability,” Izaya says, pushing away from the table. “Don't act friendly towards me now. It doesn't suit you.”

“I am your friend,” Shinra insists. “I'm the only one you've got, so maybe you should listen to me once in a while.”

“It always goes back to Celty anyway. What, are you worried I'm going to use her for something too dangerous?”

“Celty agrees with me that it's unusual for you to allow Shizuo-kun to be in your space as you have. Are you actually feeling guilty?”

“Are you?” Izaya stands and grabs a bottle of red wine from his counter before he pads over to his desk. “I don't have the time for this, Shinra. See yourself out when you're ready to go.”

Shinra sighs loudly, finishes his dinner, and picks up his briefcase. He walks towards the door.

“Take care of yourself, Izaya-kun. If you even know how to.”

Izaya uses his magic to slam the door shut behind Shinra, and then he drinks until he passes out.

***

He wakes hours later, in bed somehow.

Groaning, he sits up, trying to remember the night before. His mouth feels like cotton, and his head feels like it's trying to split itself open. He thinks he may throw up at some point in the very near future.

“Feeling better?” Tsukumoya asks from beside him. The shades are drawn closed, and the room is still dark despite the sun being out. Izaya glares at the vampire in his space.

“Why are you here?” he croaks.

“You don't remember? You invited me. We fucked.” Tsukumoya has his laptop, and is typing ridiculously fast even as he speaks. “It was quite the evening.”

“I'm serious. You just keep popping up. It's annoying.”

“Mm. I had a feeling you were being your usual destructive self. There's water for you on your nightstand.”

Izaya reaches next to him, grabs the glass before chugging it. His stomach immediately churns dangerously in protest.

“Why not take a healing potion? I know you have plenty of them,” Tsukumoya says, still not looking at him.

“Don't need it.”

“Right, you don't. The great Orihara Izaya doesn't need anything or anyone, how could I forget?” Tsukumoya finally glances over at him. “You might need to reconsider. Tonight's the night of the full moon. You'll need to be alert when your puppy visits.”

“Fuck, is it? I forgot all about it.” Izaya groans and flops back into the bed, rolling away from the annoying vampire in his space. “You weren't supposed to come until tomorrow.”

“Stop complaining so much. Do you need more water?”

Grumbling, Izaya tries to piece together the night before. He drank too much, he remembers that. Shinra was being annoying. He definitely fell asleep at his desk, meaning Tsukumoya carried him to bed.

“We didn't really fuck, did we?” Izaya asks.

“No. Did you want to?” Tsukumoya's voice is annoyingly smug. “I wouldn't be opposed.”

Izaya snorts and closes his eyes, wills the room to stop spinning. “Don't flatter yourself. You're not my type.”

“I'm not? Here I thought you had a thing for monsters.”

Izaya considers throwing Tsukumoya across the room, but that would be rising to the stupid teasing, and it would require more effort than he currently wants to exert. He stays where he is, listening to the sound of Tsukumoya's fingers on the keys.

“You're being especially pitiful lately, Izaya,” Tsukumoya says after a while. “So you've lost control of your little game, so what? Maybe you should think of what to do next instead of working to the point of exhaustion. You know I hate it when you're predictable.”

“Why does it matter what I do? I'm trapped.”

Tsukumoya sighs. “Yes, you are. And what are you going to do about it?”

“Right now, I'm going to be miserably hungover. Next, who knows? It'll surprise us both.”

“If only I found you sooner.” Tsukumoya goes back to typing. “The things you could've done. Humans are always finding ways to control what they don't understand or fear. But now, you can only help yourself. If you believe you're going to be trapped forever, they've already won.”

“I know that.” Izaya thinks of the work assignments that aren't ever going to stop, and he thinks of Akane, of Shizuo. He knows he went too far, but he has to go even further still.

Tsukumoya seems like he wants to say more, but he pauses, and the typing stops once more.

“You really might want to take that potion now,” he says. “One of your executives is on his way here.”

***

Izaya does not take the potion, and when he answers his door, it's with a slightly green complexion. Akabayashi takes one look at him, and promptly bursts into laughter.

“Oh, wow. And I thought I drank too much. You look awful, brat.” Akabayashi invites himself inside, stepping around Izaya. “I'm doing a wellness check on behalf of the boss. You understand, right?”

“Seems like I have more people in my life than I thought,” Izaya says, closing the door before moving to his couch. “This is my third wellness check.”

“Hard to believe a roach like you has friends, but then again, this city has an infestation. You missed a deadline today.”

“I got a little carried away last night. I've been in bed all day.”

“But you answered the door fully dressed, like you've been up and about,” Akabayashi presses.

“I sensed you coming,” Izaya lies.

Akabayashi hums in thought, and he grins menacingly. “Ya know, I ran into Heiwajima the other day at Sunshine. He seemed really interested in who bit him and why.”

“You should tell him,” Izaya says. “If anything, it would get him off my back for a while.”

“Oh, don't act innocent. We all know who made the phone call that started everything.”

“Clearly what I want doesn't matter. You've made that abundantly clear.”

Akabayashi walks closer to the couch, and he leans closer to Izaya. “Watch yourself, kid. Just because you haven't been caught in the act yet doesn't mean we don't know you're guilty. That magic of yours will only get you so far with us.”

“If your power spans so far, you shouldn't be worried about what I did or didn't do. If you really knew I was guilty, you'd have killed me by now,” Izaya says.

“Assuming monsters like you actually have enough humanity left to die.”

“Why don't we both find out?”

They glare at each other, and Izaya can sense from Akabayashi that the executive would like nothing more than to tear him limb from limb, but he won't. It would be against Shiki's wishes, and as much as Akabayashi hates it, he has to follow orders, or he'll be next on the chopping block. He takes another step towards the couch, but before he can do or say anything, the door slams open with such force that it bangs against the wall and cracks it.

“Hello, Shizu-chan,” Izaya calls without breaking eye-contact with Akabayashi. “Entertain yourself for a moment, will you?”

“What the fuck is this?” Shizuo asks. He growls when he notices Akabayashi. “Oi! I still have questions for you, asshole!”

“I'm sure you do,” Akabayashi says, standing up straight again. He grins at Shizuo. “I can't answer 'em for you, though. Sorry about that.”

“I could always beat it out of you,” Shizuo says, cracking his knuckles. “I'm even stronger than I used to be, since you bastards made me into a monster.”

“You wouldn't get far. I'd relax, if I were you.” Akabayashi turns back to Izaya. “Get to work, brat. Shiki's only so forgiving.” With that, he turns on his heel, and goes towards the door. Shizuo makes to stop him, but Izaya lifts his hand and summons Shizuo backwards, towards the couch.

“What the fuck!” Shizuo shouts, fighting it. “Let me go!”

“Don't make me exert myself, Shizu-chan. I'm having a rough day,” Izaya says. Shizuo turns and glowers at him, but his features soften.

“What's wrong with you? Are you sick?”

“Yes.” The door opens and closes, and Izaya knows he's alone with Shizuo once more. “You didn't knock this time.”

“Didn't think I needed to. It's not like you weren't expecting me.” Shizuo leans down, scrutinizes Izaya. “You're hungover.”

“Don't read my mind,” Izaya huffs, curling into himself.

“I didn't. You reek of alcohol.”

Grumbling, Izaya summons a blanket and throws it over himself. He doesn't know if he prefers Tsukumoya's company to Shizuo's, but at the moment, he thinks he'd rather deal with the vampire. At least for a little bit.

What a messy flea. Shizuo thinks, and then he walks away from the couch. There's the sound of him sifting through the fridge, but there isn't anything for him to find. Namie had the day off, and Shinra cooked what little was available the night before.

“You might have to order out,” Izaya calls. “You have a couple of hours before sunset.”

Shizuo growls loudly, thinks something about Izaya being useless, and then pulls out his phone. Izaya stays where he is and doesn't move, enjoys the silence for a few moments before it's ultimately shattered by Shizuo, who is suddenly sitting on the couch near Izaya, but still far enough to where they're both comfortable.

“I ordered pizza,” Shizuo says, and he leans back against the couch cushions. “You should foot the bill.”

“If you wanted me to pay, you could've ordered something better,” Izaya replies.

“Nah, everywhere else would've taken too long. Pizza is fast and easy.”

Izaya watches sleepily as Shizuo picks up the remote and turns the TV on, flipping through a few channels before settling on a soap opera. It should feel weird, sitting here with Shizuo, watching a woman sob because she caught her husband having an affair, but it really doesn't feel weird at all. Maybe Izaya is too tired to feel one way or another about it, or maybe their strange mental link has done the majority of the work in making them civil towards one another. Either way, Izaya feels comfortable enough to let his guard down a little, and it's an instant relief, like setting down something immensely heavy.

“So, I don't get it. Why are you just sitting here feeling like shit when you can heal yourself easily enough?” Shizuo is still looking at the screen, but he's back to poking around in Izaya's head, whether he knows he's doing it or not.

“Shut up, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says without any real bite.

“Oh. You just want to feel bad. Seems like a stupid thing for someone who's supposed to be some kind of genius, but whatever.”

The woman on screen is confronting her husband's mistress, and it winds up in a fist fight on a balcony. Izaya snorts when the mistress is pushed off to her death. How predictable. Shizuo is scowling at the TV, but he's thinking about his shared dreams with Izaya, and also about some images he's been seeing through Izaya's side of the link. He's also thinking about Shinra, who apparently ran into Shizuo last night after his last appointment. Shinra seemed worried about Izaya.

He's a good actor. Izaya sends. He always has been.

I don't think he was acting. You look worse than you normally do.

I'm hungover, as you so aptly put it. You being in my head isn't helping me feel better.

“I'm not doing it on purpose!” Shizuo snaps, and the sudden loudness has Izaya flinching. “I don't get why it's happening either, okay? I'm only just now starting to believe it's not actually you doing it.”

Because you've seemed like such a mess ever since it started. Shizuo thinks, and Izaya grinds his teeth in frustration.

“I'm not a mess.”

“What did that guy want?” Shizuo asks, changing the subject abruptly.

“Akabayashi-san stops by from time to time to threaten me. It's a pastime for him.” Izaya is starting to feel nauseous again, so he closes his eyes and wills it to go away.

“Don't you work for him, though?”

“I don't work for anybody. I'm a freelance informant for hire, and I give the organization he's part of information when they pay me for it, same as anyone else.”

Shizuo frowns, thinks something biting about Izaya working for the Yakuza. “He seemed like he wanted to hurt you.”

“Oh, he does. They all do,” Izaya says. “They'd kill me if they could.”

Shizuo doesn't like that he has something in common with the Yakuza. He grimaces before he says, “So what? You're just too strong to die or some shit?”

“No,” Izaya replies. “I'm just too important for them do dispose of. I'm part of the reason they're as powerful as they are, and they know it, even if they hate it, even if they hate me. I'm the strongest tool in their arsenal. Killing me would be crippling themselves.”

Silence follows Izaya's words. Shizuo's mind is a whirlwind now, thinking so many things at once, all laced with rage. He doesn't like anything about what Izaya said, the way it was said so flippantly, the way Izaya doesn't seem to mind. Shizuo doesn't like that Izaya thinks of himself as a tool, as something other than human, even if it might be true. Shizuo doesn't want to think of himself as other than human, either.

Shizuo doesn't seem to do well with the truth.

“That isn't true,” Shizuo growls, no doubt in response to Izaya's thoughts. “You're a person. I'm a person. We're other things too, but whatever we are, we're human first. You said so yourself, right? You can die, you can be killed. You're human enough to die.”

“I'm telling you this once, and once only, beast,” Izaya murmurs, opening his eyes to glare at the TV as he speaks. “It would be the exact same as breaking a screwdriver, or losing your favorite toy. If I died, that would be it. They would just replace me. They want to, and they would if they could, but I'm one of the last of my kind, and I'm definitely the most powerful one left. I don't care about it, because I've always known I was only useful for what I knew and what I could do. If you're going to be hated, you damn well better be useful. That's the way it is.”

“Fuck that!” Shizuo yells, and he stands, his hands clenched into fists. “What the hell are you talking about? You think it's okay to sit here and feel sorry for yourself, like you didn't have a hand in being the hated little rat you are? You think it's just because of your magic? You're the one deciding to do the shitty things you do. People hate you. If they knew you were a witch, whatever, maybe some of them would hate you more, but it's only because they hate you already. Get the fuck over yourself.”

Izaya laughs, delighted at the outburst. Doing so hurts his head, and his vision swims. This is pitiful, isn't it? Feeling useless, being forced to lie back and swallow vomit just so no one else can ask anything more of him. If he's a tool, he's a damaged one, and every time he's human, he dulls himself a little more. If this is a game to be played, and his opponents have the winning hand, Izaya will make sure none of them win. He'll destroy himself if he has to. He'll destroy everything.

“Trust me, Shizu-chan,” he croaks, “I know they would've hated me either way. The difference between us is you're searching so hard for a place to belong, and I've accepted long ago that it doesn't exist. Now would you kindly shut the fuck up? My head hurts.”

Shizuo is seething, his breaths labored as he works to calm himself down. He wants to lift Izaya up and shake him until his head pops off. Then Shizuo wants to tear apart everything in the apartment, maybe go punch Akabayashi for good measure. He hates that he sees the reasoning in Izaya's words. He hates himself, and he hates Izaya more than anything else.

“Get out of my head,” Shizuo grits out.

“I'm trying,” Izaya says, and he leaves it at that.

They lapse back into silence, and when Shizuo flops back onto the couch, his brow is furrowed, his jaw set. It's clear he isn't going to let this go, but he at least doesn't want to be in a terrible mood before his transformation. The bloodlust is worse when he's angry. He has to keep reminding himself that Izaya is a liar, first and foremost. Izaya uses words to protect himself, and Shizuo doesn't have to, and won't, ever do the same.

“Well, isn't this cozy?” Tsukumoya's voice asks as he walks down the stairs. He's wearing a hood, covering himself from the weakening rays of sun that still shine through the windows.

“I thought you left,” Izaya calls as Shizuo whirls to growl at the vampire.

“I was going to, but I figured I'd stick around to make sure you didn't die,” Tsukumoya says. He smirks at the scene of Shizuo and Izaya sitting together almost peacefully, watching trash TV in silence. “I wondered how your nights with the puppy went. I suppose I can see for myself now.”

“Why the fuck are you here?!” Shizuo barks, and then he whirls to face Izaya. “Does he always just pop up like this?”

“Not always,” Izaya says. “He stayed the night.”

“What?”

“Relax, Heiwajima-san. Rest assured, I didn't touch him.” Tsukumoya flounces past the couch while Shizuo's face turns a variety of fun colors. “At least, not much.”

Shizuo stands from the couch, and Izaya sighs loudly.

“Don't you have anything better to do?” he asks Tsukumoya, who is still looking at Shizuo appraisingly.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I trust you won't drink yourself stupid a second night in a row?” Tsukumoya says, looking at Izaya.

“I don't have the luxury tonight,” Izaya answers.

“Right, you're puppy-sitting.”

“Do you mean me, you fucking—“ Shizuo starts, and he barrels towards Tsukumoya, who easily side-steps him.

“Make sure you eat something at some point,” Tsukumoya calls to Izaya. “That pizza will help you feel better.”

“I don't want it,” Izaya grumbles, covering his head with the blanket. He hates both of the people in his space right now, and he just wants to sleep.

You must be making a conscious effort to not heal yourself if you're still this sick over a hangover. Tsukumoya's voice sounds in Izaya's head. Is this really helping anything?

Yes. Izaya can't escape either of them, can he? They're both annoyingly perceptive and persistent. He can feel fondness radiating from Tsukumoya, but it's quickly being overshadowed by the amount of fury pouring from Shizuo, who is clearly listening to their mental conversation.

“Your pizza is here,” Tsukumoya says, and the knock comes a moment later. “Make sure he eats something, please,” he says to Shizuo, and then he vanishes before anything else can be said.

***

Shizuo scarfs down the entire pizza at breakneck speed, once or twice trying to get Izaya to accept a slice before giving up. He doesn't care if Izaya eats or not, and he doesn't care if Izaya feels sick or not. Shizuo's mood increases as he eats, and by the time he's finished, he's as mellow as he ever is while sharing a space with his mortal enemy.

Izaya, for his part, is starting to feel a little better. His stomach rumbles a bit at the scent of the pizza, but his appetite wanes at the grotesquely barbaric way Shizuo eats. It seems worse than usual, more...animalistic.

In fact...something seems off about Shizuo, even for a full moon. Maybe something happened earlier, or maybe Shizuo just went too long without eating until now, but Izaya can sense the bloodlust permeating from Shizuo like a miasma.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, slowly sitting up to level his gaze at his unwanted guest. “Have you taken your potion?”

“Huh? Of course I have,” Shizuo replies. His hair is glowing from the fading rays of the sun as it descends behind the tall buildings outside.

“Have you taken it exactly as you should, the way I instructed?” Izaya asks through clenched teeth, already knowing the answer.

“Well— I drank it all a couple of days ago. I spent all day with Vorona, and I didn't want—“ Shizuo pauses at the look on Izaya's face. “What? What did I do wrong? You said to take it all before the full moon, and I did!”

“I told you to drink it every day, bit by bit, and to finish it before the full moon. The exact way you've done every month until now, because you're so pathetic in the presence of that woman that you can't follow basic fucking instructions!” Izaya snaps, and Shizuo's eyes widen.

He looks scared. Shizuo thinks, and then a beat later, Oh fuck. He's scared of me.

“Izaya, I—“ Shizuo begins, and then his hands grip his knees as his body begins to shake. The sun's rays fade at last, bathing them in twilight. “I feel...wrong.”

Izaya stands from the couch, the room spinning as he does. He's not at his full power. Even if he weren't hungover, he hasn't been eating or sleeping the way he should, buried in work as he is, and reluctant to care for himself as ever. He starts towards the stairs, in search of the healing potion he should have taken earlier, but he knows it's already far too late, as Shizuo's body is already beginning to crack and twist, and his mind is already gone, replaced by that of a true monster.

“Shizu-chan, you're such a fucking idiot,” Izaya hisses, and his sentence is barely finished before Shizuo is lunging at him, aiming for his throat.