#i miss sleeping on an elevated surface

[theragethatisdesire]

"nel bene e nel male" - eren x reader, 18+!!!

i have several other wips working right now but i fell in love with the "ti penso" universe so i wanted to follow this eren x reader a little further down the road. i wouldn't call it a series but....i love them. this is from eren's pov, so we get to see how he thinks of reader, their relationship, etc. and it was SO fun to get in his head. i love ti penso eren sm and he's adorable, so i hope u guys like this one as much as the last!

pairing: eren x afab!reader

wc: 4.8k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut (duh), knife (not in a sexual way like a cooking way bu still), consensual hook-up, established relationship, unprotected sex, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving) penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby), crying, cheating (don't worry it's a trick), multiple orgasm, creampie, aftercare, eren being a nervous wreck

title means "for better or for worse" in italian i LOVE these two mwah xxxx

Eren isn’t really a middle-ground kind of guy. The world’s black and white the way he sees it, so he either loves something, or he hates it. He hates the soreness settling in his bones, loves seeing the familiar city lights again after the last few days.

He’s been in Dubai on business this week; loved the food, hated his hotel room, loved the locals, hated the plane ride, and while the loves outweighed the hates enough to make the trip great, it didn’t compare to what was waiting for him in New York. Eren’s fortunate enough to be coming home to a little slice of his own personal heaven, ready to open his apartment door to find you in his favorite position: wearing one of his old t-shirts, snuggled up on the couch, reading if he had to put money on it. Maybe he’ll get lucky, and you’ll be cooking. God, he’s so sick of hotel food and airport food he could cry. 

In the elevator, sliding up through the building to the seventy-first floor, he gets a rush of elation at the familiarity of it all. He studies the mirrored wall, smirking to himself when the memory of him pressing you against it, two fingers deep in you, surfaces. That’s something else he loves: unraveling you where someone could see, watching how flustered you get. Eren’s first order of business, he decides, is to shower. His second order of business will be to bury himself between your legs: cock, face, fingers, whatever you prefer. He’s feeling generous and homesick.

The smell of garlic and oil hits his nose when he opens the door; Eren has to bite back a groan. After Ymir and Historia’s wedding, you two developed a bit of a love affair with Italy, and had returned enough times for you to master the cuisine. Italian food now reminds him of you, of that first indulgence in years against the wall of his villa apartment, and his legs nearly buckle at the sensation of it all.

“Missed you.” Your back is to him when he ambles into the kitchen, cutting tomatoes, so he settles for pressing himself up against your back, cradling your hips in his hands. Your little sleep shorts rub against his crotch, and Eren hopes he has the willpower to at least make it through dinner without tearing you open.

“Mm,” you hum noncommittally, letting him grope you. Eren frowns into your hair; that wasn’t exactly the enthusiastic welcome he was expecting.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” you shrug. He peeks around your shoulder; your cheeks are wet.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Eren grabs your shoulders and turns you to face him. When he recognizes the look in your eyes, he almost wishes he hadn’t.

When you’re angry, you shout, you cry a little, normal stuff. When you’re really angry, you’re cold. The look in your eyes tells him he’s done something very bad, a look of icy apathy, disinterest. He hasn’t seen it since you left him on the sidewalk outside of your last apartment together, before Italy, before the last two years of domestic bliss he’s enjoyed with you amidst your crazy work schedules. Eren’s heart drops to his stomach.

“Baby…”

“Who’s Anna?”

Your question nearly knocks him on his ass. He’s vaguely aware that his face must show that feeling, making him look more suspicious than he really is. How the fuck is he supposed to explain Anna without ratting on himself?

“Who?” Idiot, Eren thinks to himself. Who? is never the right question when your girlfriend asks about another woman in your life, Eren knows that by now. The pure shock has turned the sensical part of his brain off.

“Who,” you repeat, scoffing and turning back to your cooking.

Very aware that you have a knife, Eren rounds the counter so he can see you, monitor that look in your eyes while also putting some space between himself and the nine-inch blade in your right hand. “I know it sounds cliche, but it’s not what it–”

“Looks like?” You cut him off, eyes down towards the cutting board. “I’m sure the nine zoom calls I found on your personal laptop are nothing, nothing at all.”

Eren swallows, thick around the lump in his throat. He should have had his fucking assistant do this, he thinks, shouldn’t have been so picky with everything, but it was something so special, so personal, he couldn’t bring himself to ask for help. Hell, he hadn’t even told Armin and Mikasa yet.

“She sent you a very vague email, but I’m sure you’ll get the message. She said she has some ‘really special’ things picked out for you, if you missed it,” your gaze finally meets his, chilling him to the bone and boring into his very soul, “La Perla or Agent Provocateur? You’ve always preferred the Perla, but–”

“It’s nothing like that,” Eren mumbles, twitching where he stands. “I’d never cheat on you, you know that.”

“I’m sure,” a mirthless laugh slips from your pretty lips. Eren wants to cry; if only you knew, if only he could bring himself to tell you, but that would ruin the point of it. If you’d just understand– “My bags are packed either way. Booked a flight to London, too. I’ve always wanted to live there.”

Eren’s heart drops further from its tight pit in his stomach; it’s surely fallen out of his ass onto the floor now. “Bags? Baby, no, just let me exp–”

“Let you what?” Here’s your anger, refreshed and fiery in your eyes, rearing its head. Eren balks.

“Well, I– I can’t really explain, but if you just trust me…”

“Trust you? I did trust you, all the way back in Italy!” Your voice cracks at the same time as Eren’s heart. “I took a chance on you, and you fucked me. Do you remember how afraid I was to dive back into you again? And look where it fucking got me.”

Another furious, disbelieving chuckle. Eren hates that laugh, hates it so much he can feel his skin prickle. Against his better judgment, he scowls.

“You actually think I’m cheating on you? When the fuck would I even have time?”

“Is she from Stockholm? Paris? Skinny bitch from LA, maybe? You spend an awful lot of time on the go,” you hiss. Eren rolls his eyes.

“I fucking love you! You’ve never been able to get that through your thick-ass skull,” his voice is getting louder, but he can’t stop himself. If he was thinking rationally, he knew he could make you understand, but he’s not thinking rationally. Eight days of jet lag and work are catching up to him, and his temper leaps out ahead of his words.

“Well, I hope Anna does. I hope you love her, and I hope she fucks you good,” you sniffle, another hot rush of angry tears streaming down your face. Eren hates that too; can still feel the visceral pumping of his heart where it’s sitting discarded on the floor.

“She doesn’t love me,” he grits out, “and she definitely doesn’t fuck me.”

“Well yeah, I’d assume you fuck her,” you snap, chopping into a tomato furiously. Maybe it’s your tone, maybe it’s the tears, the finality in the chopping, he doesn’t have time to acknowledge what breaks something in him, but he feels it tear into two. He can’t stop himself.

“She a fucking ring designer,” he nearly shouts, hearing the cabinets rattle from the timbre of his voice, “a ring designer from Tiffany. That’s who Anna is.”

He’s hardly even aware that the words have left his mouth until he sees your reaction. Everything in your body tenses, your hand clenches down tight around the knife. Your mouth– Eren can’t help but sigh inwardly at your perfect little mouth– drops slightly ajar, the tears themselves seem to freeze where they’re rolling down your cheeks.

“A…what?”

Eren’s defeated now, and his sigh shows it. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, not feeling any better now that he’s been forced to ruin his own surprise. “Didn’t want to tell you this way, but yeah.”

“Like, a…”

“An engagement ring designer,” Eren says quietly, barely able to force the words out. Sure, he may have solved the initial issue of his nonexistent cheating, but now he has your commitment issues to work with. His breath is lodged firmly in his throat and not a sound passes between you two. He can see the gears in your head turning, brow furrowed in concentration as you try to think through your feelings.

Ordinarily, Eren loves that look, thinks it’s so sexy how your forehead wrinkles, your tongue darting out between your teeth while you write or do your morning crossword. Now, he’s watching you with that look on your face, not able to breathe, feel, or even think.

The hesitation is setting in, panic gripping him. What was he thinking, proposing to you? You hate to be tied down, married to your work. He’s hurt you so many times; God knows it was an uphill battle just getting you to let him love you again. You’re a flighty, easily-frightened creature, but he does what he can to keep you with him, keep you as happy as he can. He lives and breathes you, doesn’t know if he would survive you leaving him again.

He couldn’t help himself, though, never could when it came to you. For years he’s been needing more, more touching you, more fucking you, more loving you. This is just that in a new sense: seeing if he just could get the right ring, make the right plan to keep you forever. He’d never admit it, but he’d even gotten hard at the thought of you wearing his ring day in and day out for the rest of your life. He couldn’t resist making you his wife, his life partner, putting his babies in you–

Eren pockets that thought as soon as it crosses his mind; now is not the time for an erection. He knows you inside and out, knows how your chest rises and falls while you sleep and has the scent of your shampoo burned into his olfactory nerves for the rest of his life, but you manage to surprise him, just this once.

A small smile toys at your mouth. “An engagement ring designer?”

Eren’s chest decompresses so violently he thinks he might pass out. “Yeah. I was thinking–”

“About proposing? You’re serious?” Your face is still puffy and wet, but the grin growing on your face is worth everything Eren could ever think to own, eyes practically glowing.

“God, of course I’m serious,” Eren rasps, the air gone from his lungs, “fuckin’ love you. I’ve wanted this since the day I met you, how do you not know that by now?”

“Are you like…” you trail off, looking meaningfully at him, then the floor. Is he proposing?

Eren doesn’t even know if he is, brain foggy after the whirlwind ten minutes that’s just gone by. A lifetime with you flashes behind his eyes: a beautiful wedding, definitely in Italy, signing the papers and buying a home together, filling it with as many curly-haired babies as you’ll give him. When Eren comes back to reality, his body’s moved without consulting him, and he’s on his knees, holding your thighs– God, your perfect thighs– in his hands. He’s fairly sure he’s supposed to just be on one knee, but he doesn’t care; he’s not asking, he’s begging.

“Yeah– fuck, I think I am,” Eren laughs at himself, breathless, “I am.”

“Oh my God,” your hands are over your mouth, holding in the wet little hiccups shaking your frame, “oh my God, you are.”

And right there, all of Eren’s anxiety melts off of his body in a clean sheathe. Looking up at you, the fresh tears welling in those beautiful eyes that turn him to putty whenever you need to, he’s sure. Even if you say no– which now, he doesn’t think you will– he has to try. He owes you that, all of himself.

“You know I love you, I– I live for you. Want you to be mine, forever. Will you have me?” Eren’s voice has a waver to it, bending and wobbling under all of his emotions. The slightest inclination of your head gives way to an excited nod, and Eren practically leaps to his feet, grabbing you around the waist and spinning you, just like a movie.

“Eren, ow– s’tight,” you giggle, wheezing in his grip.

“Can you blame me?” Eren laughs back, feeling like a child instead of a full-grown man who just made the biggest commitment of his life, but as painful as it is to release his grip, he sets you down. “You're fucking serious? You’ll really marry me?”

“Yeah,” you grin, “yeah, I’ll marry you. You better get me a big-ass rock, though.”

“I’ll get you the biggest one in the world, spend every dime I have,” he says, and you’re in his arms again, legs wrapped around his waist and arms thrown around his neck, his face might burst, “you can show it off to all your friends, show ‘em just how much I love you.”

“Oh, Eren,” you trail off, kissing him in lieu of words. Eren doesn’t think your lips have ever been so sweet against his, doesn’t think he’s ever been so hungry for your body.

He’s got the path to your bedroom memorized, especially under his current condition: wrapped up in a tangle of limbs, stumbling clumsily and desperately trying not to lose his footing as you kiss your way down his neck. A low groan rumbles in his chest as he fumbles with the knob, throws the door open, practically tackles you onto the plush bed. Eren doesn’t even care that he stinks like plane and airport and travel; the scent of you envelops him.

“Love you so fuckin’ much, baby,” he mutters offhandedly against your collarbone, pausing from the bruise he’s sucking into the skin, “now you’re all mine, forever.”

“Forever,” you agree, chest heaving beneath him. Eren makes quick work of the silky sleep set you’ve chosen, has a brief moment of clarity to think how funny it was that you picked a sexy pajama set to argue with him. He loves you, God, he’s overwhelmed with love, dizzy with it, out of his mind.

Eren mouths his way around your tits, palming with one hand and pressing the other against the small of your back, pulling you up to him. He hates the idea of space between you two. You’re his forever now, his to push and pull and kiss and bite. 

“My pretty little wife,” Eren feels a grin stretch over his face, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your breast. You moan under him, music to his ears. Eren loves a lot about you, but the little simpering sounds you’re making might be his favorite.

“Like that,” it’s just a whisper above him, but it catches his attention.

“Like what? My mouth?”

“Like when you call me that.”

Eren’s grin grows wider, feral. “Call you what?”

“Eren!”

“Say it,” he slides back up to your mouth, licking into it, “want to hear it out of this pretty mouth, not mine.”

“Your wife,” you give in more quickly than he expects, warmth radiating off of your face. 

“So mean to me,” he hums, giving you one last kiss before traveling down, letting his hand come down to rub insistently at your clit. He swallows a throaty groan; you’re wet, soaked even. Just for him.

“Fuck, Eren– ‘m not mean to you,” you’re pouting through the little whimpers coming out of you, eyebrows knotted on your forehead.

“You are,” Eren insists, nosing at your clit. Jesus Christ, he thinks to himself, you smell delicious. He plants a kiss on the inside of your thigh, nibbles a little at the sensitive skin. “Picking a fight with me, thinking I would ever, ever, go looking at anyone else. How could I? Already got the best pussy in the world right here.”

That earns him another long moan from you, your hands coming to his hair and shoving him insistently towards your center. He’ll make you wait, he decides, still in control enough of his faculties to engage in his favorite pastime: teasing you to the point of tears, leading you to your breaking point and shoving you up against it.

You urge him to you, still pulling on his hair. Eren, a devious grin across his face, resists, blowing cool air on you instead. You whine, hips canting at him temptingly. Eren’s willpower falters just slightly, and he gives you a quick, tentative lick up your center, earning himself a satisfied whimper.

“Need more, baby?”

“You know what I fucking need,” you grumble. Eren chuckles.

“See? Always so mean to me. Can’t have what you want when you’re mean, you know better.”

“Please,” you breathe from above him, voice urgent at his threat, “please, Eren, I can’t take it, I–”

“There you go,” he settles himself in between your legs, pulling you to his face by your hips. If Eren loves one thing in his black-and-white world, it’s having his mouth on you. It’s probably embarrassing how often he asks to sink his tongue into you, how pitifully he begs day in and day out, but he’s beyond caring. It’s well-established in your daily routine: you have your crosswords to keep you content and clear your head, and Eren has your pussy.

He’s gone eight long days without it, and he licks into you like a starved man, hell, maybe he is. Eren groans into you, echoing your own pathetic simpering.

“Can’t wait to put a ring on this pussy, my beautiful pussy,” he speaks into your folds, tickling them in a way that you evidently like, giving him a garbled agreement. Eren relishes your cunt, sucking on your clit and tickling just at the entrance to you with his tongue, working you the way he knows will have you spiraling towards your end.

Without fully realizing it, Eren’s hand is sliding down to palm himself over his pants. Before he knows it, he’s rutting into his own hand like a fucking teenager, couldn’t keep himself together with his face between your legs. Eren prides himself on his stamina, but with the heightened emotions and the week without you, that's gone right out of the window. He’s riding a little too close to the line; he desperately wants you to cum on his face, but at this rate, he’ll blow in his pants if he lets you.

Steeling every ounce of willpower he possesses, Eren pulls his face out of you, takes a deep breath. You whine, reaching for him unsuccessfully.

“Sh, I know,” Eren shushes you, chest swelling with pride at your open need, “so needy for me, aren’t you?”

“Please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his mouth to yours.

“Gonna fuck you, okay?” You nod urgently into his shoulder, legs already hooked around his hips. Eren’s head’s spinning like it never has before, drunk on you. He manages to get half of his cock into you before he has to stop, grinding his jaw and trying to think about anything other than how your cunt’s milking him.

“Eren,” you plead, trying to urge him forward with your ankles. A deep inhale rattles practically his entire body.

“M'trying not to cum, hold on.” He’s created a monster out of you, he thinks, and maybe out of himself, too.

“I need– fuck, need to…” you slide one hand down your body, rubbing frantically at your clit. Eren’s stuck watching, watching your perfect body swell and shrink with your heavy breaths, watching you try to make yourself cum only half-full.

“Do you think you can?” His words are hardly a breath; he winces when you clench around him harder. You’ve always had trouble cumming without being full, usually finding your release with Eren buried fully inside you, nudging at your cervix. You’re always begging for more, just one more finger, want to be fucked a little harder. The fact that you need him so badly you’re willing to try, make the most out of what you have, makes his heart and his cock pound in tune. Poor thing. 

“Yeah, I, I need to cum so bad, Eren, it’s– shit, so bad, I just–”

“Go ahead, do it then,” Eren firmly interrupts your babbling, a bit of a tell that you’re getting close. If anything gets you off, it’s authority. He leans down, painfully aware of the extra inch of him the new angle pushes into you, trying to focus, trying so hard not to cum yet. He takes your face roughly in his hand, forcing your heart-filled eyes to bore into his. He bares his teeth in a disbelieving, probably half-crazed grin. He loves you so much, needy little thing that you are.“Make yourself cum on me, fucking brat. Can’t even give me two seconds, can you?”

Your bottom lip trembles as you shake your head, more tears welling in your eyes. Eren can feel the quivering of your legs around him, any second now.

“Love me so much, don’t you? So impatient,” He tsks, thumbing at your lip and throwing in a couple light smacks to your cheek for good measure. “Can’t wait to be mine, can’t wait to cum, can’t wait for me to marry you and fuck you everyday, that’s it isn’t it? Gonna fuck you as much as you want baby, my perfect little wife.”

That does it; Eren has to close his eyes when you cum, cunt tightening vice-like around him, but he can feel you squirting on his lower abdomen, feel the cum practically gushing out of you. God help him. You squirm and tremble underneath him, crying out for him to fuck you. He knows you need him, need him to move, and somehow, some way, he does.

He bullies his way into you, feeling you pulse around him and growling deep in his chest. Your eyes fly open at the movement inside of you, flitting between his face and where he's rolling his hips into you.

“Yes,” you hiss, “yeah, please–”

“That’s better, right?” Eren’s in heaven, losing his grip on anything around him that’s not your pussy. “My girl needs to be full, yeah?”

“Mhm,” your eyes are rolling back into your head, drunk on the way he’s pumping in and out of you. Eren’s in awe of you; you’re such a perfect, needy creature, and now you’re all his forever. Shit, he’s not going to last, he can feel it. He slides a hand down your stomach, thrumming insistently at your clit, making you squeal.

“Fuck! Eren, I just– shit, I just came, s’too much.”

“You can cum again, right? Can't be selfish, now,” Eren huffs, stomach tightening with the signs of his impending orgasm. “I’m gonna spend all my money on your fucking ring, and you can’t even cum one more time for me?”

“Eren…” you’re whimpering, damn near crying at this point, tears streaming down your temple. He feels you clench, somehow makes himself thrust faster. Eren loves this part. He’s got you now, and he knows it.

“You say love me, now you gotta show me,” he just needs a few more seconds, come on, “if you want that ring so bad, you gotta cum for it baby.”

Your back arches so violently that had he not known better, Eren might think you’ve been shocked; your pussy squeezes the life out of him, triggers his orgasm along with you. The sound he emits is inhuman, but he’s too lost, too gone to care, shooting rope after rope of cum deep in you. He collapses mid-orgasm, clutching your convulsing body to him, some unconscious part of his brain is directing him to kiss your shoulder, bite into it, and he does. He tastes that salty sheen of your skin, eyes rolling back into his head.

Neither of you speak, just lean into each other for a minute or two. Eren’s vaguely aware of the cum leaking out from where you’re still joined. He hasn’t bothered to pull out yet; pulling out of you is on the hate list. His cock twitches painfully, though, still interested in where he’s buried so deep he can feel your heartbeat. His dick might be aching for a round two, but Eren’s pretty sure he’d knock out in the middle of things if he tried. He groans and rolls off of you, sliding out with a pang of regret.

He props himself up on a shaky elbow, tucking a few of your stray hairs behind your ear. He wants to see your face, your perfect face, sweaty and blotchy and fucked out. You grant him a sleepy smile– oh he loves that face, quickly takes a mental picture to file away.

“You good?”

“So good,” you answer, stretching your arms. “Shower?”

Eren wrinkles his nose, not entirely thrilled at the prospect of washing this gorgeous, post-sex shine off of you. Your face grows insistent. “Shower, Eren.”

“Fine,” he pouts.

“What? You stink.”

“Not that bad,” he lifts an arm, sniffs. Oof, yeah, “not that bad” indeed. He lets you lead him to the shower, waits patiently as you test the water, even lets you rub some of that scratchy body-scrub crap that you swear by all over him.

“Better, right?” You raise your voice over the high-pressure water cascading around you, grinning knowingly. Eren hates conceding, hates admitting when he’s being a bit of a brat, but God, does he love you. He smiles crookedly.

“Much better.”

“So, about before…” Eren’s heart skips a beat, his throat closes. Is this the part where you regret saying yes? Thought he was joking? He should have found a different way out. No, damn it, he should have stuck with the plan, the flowers, the sunset, the quartet– “Can I meet the ring designer?”

Oh. “Um, if you– yeah, if you want. Thought you would like it better as a surprise.”

You cock an eyebrow. “What do you know about my taste in diamonds?”

“Mm, big?”

“Well, yeah,” you giggle, “but do you know what carat I’d prefer? Cut? Setting?”

Eren blushes, frowns. So he has been doing this all wrong. Figures. “That’s what the ring designer’s for, isn’t she?”

“You can still help,” you soothe him, a soapy hand brushing over his cheek, “I’d just like a say, if you don’t mind.”

“Are you mad?” He gives a voice to the fear thudding inside of him, the insecurity clawing at his ribs. You cock your head at him, confused and cute, but even that’s not enough to make him feel better. It’s a black-and-white world, and he needs to hear you say it, perfectly clear.

“Mad? Eren, this is…the happiest day of my life. Why would I be mad?”

“Because…” he scrambles for the words, suddenly sheepish, “I had this whole thing planned for it– for you. We were gonna be on the Empire State Building with a rose wreath and singers–”

“Eren,” you cut him off, serious as he’s ever seen you, “are you actually being serious? Like, actually?”

His face is hot, God it burns with embarrassment. “I mean, sort of.”

“It was perfect,” you sense his discomfort, running a stray hand through his hair, “okay well, not perfect per se, but it was us. We aren’t…we aren’t flowers and Empire State Building people. We’re stupid fights and long distance and hot sex people. That’s our life, and I am beyond okay with that.”

All of the unease evaporates from his body. How do you always have the answer, the words he needs to hear? You’re always right. The quartet may have been a bit much, he reflects, pulling you to him.

“If you’re happy, I am,” he means it, and places a kiss to the part of your hair. You hum contentedly against him, purring against his chest.

The shower goes on as all of your showers together do: you manhandle Eren into shampoo and conditioner (hate list: burns his eyes, slimy), grab miraculously toasty towels from the warmer by the bathtub (love list: cozy), convince him to climb into bed still half-wet, limbs heavy with exhaustion (hate list: his side of the bed’s going to smell like wet dog tomorrow), throw on the Kardashians’ new show (love and hate lists: depends who's asking).

You knock out before him, unaffected by jet lag, drooling into the cavern between his pecs and making a very unflattering face that he makes sure to snap a picture of. You need an updated contact photo in his phone anyway.

He feels unusually contemplative, staring out at the big city from your own little corner of it, making a mental list of all of the people you need to call tomorrow, and what order they should go in. Eren’s world might be big sometimes as he jetsets around, might be small when he’s buried inside of you, focus narrowed on the heat pulled tight around him. It’s always one way or the other, though, and tonight, practically his entire world is laying on his chest, glowing a bright, bridal white.

- tagging @philliamwrites as u requested for my next piece! hope u love it bestie <3

[mediumgayitalian]

“It’s half past eleven, Nico. I told you to get some rest.”

Nico’s face twists somewhere between a scowl and a frown.

“I don’t need to.”

He’s sorted the medicine cabinet eight billion times in his life — Will doesn’t need to think about it. Instead, he lets his mind wander, lets his hands handle themselves, lets his eyes stray to the hunched way Nico is standing, one knee resting on the cot Will assigned him, the other straight, foot resting, pointed, towards the door. His fingers twist and steeple together, thumb worrying his skull ring, faint scratches picked and scabbed over. His clothes sag off of him.

“It’s safe,” Will assures softly. Nico startles, turning his big, dark eyes to face him, and Will meets them head on, determined to let the seriousness show in his face. “Argus is watching the door, and Peleus is awake at the border. Nothing is going to attack us while you sleep.”

Nico worries his lip. “That’s not it.”

Half-lie. He was worried about being attacked — Will can feel it, the same way you can feel a bug crawling on your skin. Tiny brushes of something foreign along the sensitive nerves of his skin. But he’s shifty, still, beyond that, beyond the same fear they all carry.

“What is it, then?”

Nico shrugs. Squeezing his eyes briefly shut, Will focuses his energy, sending out teeny tiny vibrations too tightly wound for regular human senses to pick up, waiting for them to bounce back at him. Usually, he hates doing this — too much input. He can feel the ions shaking on the metal bed frames, feel the cling of every microbe on non-sterile surfaces, feel microscopic patch of skin flake off every person’s body, feel the ka-thunk ka-thunk ka-thunk of every heartbeat. It’s hard to sort and hard to interpret. A massive wall of noise beyond auditory.

But he focuses, channels the input as much as he can, and interprets like Rachel taught him — like picking up a handful of silt and focusing on one grain of sand at a time. One person out of the masses — one input at a time.

Sweat, gathering in the palms of his hands, chock full of DHEA and adrenaline. Pinpriked with serotonin and a sprinkling of cortisol. Elevated heart rate, barely so; increased blood pressure. Fourteen hundred hair follicle deaths. Minor lactic acid buildup in the muscles. Contracted veins and capillaries.

“You’re feeling guilty,” Will guesses.

Nico gapes.

���How did you — there’s no possible way you — lucky guess,” he lands on eventually.

“Stress is just pouring off of you, man,” Will says, holding back a small smile, “I can feel it.”

Ha. If only he knew.

“Whatever. I just —”

Will waits, tucking away the last of the half-used bottles. They’re going to have to start rationing nectar, soon. And he might have Nico cut some bandages if he’s up for it, tomorrow; it’ll save him some time before Chris’s surgery.

“You just?”

Nico gestures helplessly at where Will is finishing up the last of the inventory. “There are a dozen more deserving people than me of this bed, I can’t —”

“You’re important too, you know.”

The click of Nico’s jaw snapping shut rings throughout the quiet infirmary. It’s just barely louder than sleeping patients shifting in the cots, and a little quieter than Miranda’s snoring.

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

Hesitation. Cortisol and adrenaline, again, even higher heart rate.

“…Yes?”

Hm. Interesting.

“You’re telling the truth,” Will muses. He tilts his head. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

The immediate honesty in Nico’s voice is flattering. Will smiles, and he flushes, slightly.

Serotonin flash. Salivary gland inhibition.

Interesting.

“Listen to me, then: you’re important. And you’re still dangerously exhausted — medically exhausted. You’re a step and a half away from a coma, dude. You need this bed as much as anyone else here.”

“There are stab wounds in some of them,” Nico argues. “And missing limbs and slash marks and —”

“And they’re all stable,” Will interrupts. He raises a challenging eyebrow. “D’you think I maybe know what I’m doing after three years of this, Nico? I know how to triage. Is anyone close to death?”

Nico purses his lips. “No.”

“Right.” Will shrugs. “I know you’ve been teetering on the edge of fading, which isn’t great. The only reason I waited until now to get you in here was because I had people in worse condition. They’re stable now — and so I have space to prioritize you. Okay?”

Slowly, Nico nods. Gut serotonin and heavy endorphin release — good.

“Okay,” he says quietly.

Truth.

“You’ll sleep?”

A ghost — ha — of a smile flashes on his face. “Yeah, you nag, I’ll sleep.”

“That’s all I ask,” Will responds, meeting his smile. “Night, Nico.”

“Goodnight.” He hesitates. “Thank you, Will.”

Will grins wider.

“Anytime.”

[babyflorencee]

Only one bed

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

The anticipation for the premiere of my latest project, 'little women' had my nerves on edge as I sat in the airport, waiting for my Uber. Tomorrow's event promised excitement and anxiety in equal measure – after all, being one of the main characters in a show was a huge accomplishment for me.

As I scrolled through my Instagram feed, a message from my driver notified me of his arrival. Stepping outside the airport, I was met by a cheerful man who swiftly took my suitcase and stowed it in the trunk before we set off on the short journey, engaging in light conversation along the way.

My phone buzzed incessantly with notifications from the group chat comprised of my fellow 'Little women' cast members. Amidst the chatter, the revelation that we had to share rooms due to a booking oversight surfaced. I sighed inwardly, hoping I wouldn't end up rooming with Timothée – a fellow actor whom I didn't like, at all.

"Miss, we're here," The driver said, getting out and walking around to the trunk to get my bags. Once I got out of the car, I heard someone shout, "Y/N!" looking up I saw Florence with her arms wide open sprinting over to me. I smiled at her, engulfing her in a bear hug. We stayed that way for a while until we heard someone calling our names. We turned around to see Saoirse behind us. "We're deciding who's rooming with who." She said, walking back to the hotel's lobby with Florence and I following close behind her.

***

"Oh fuck no!" I yelled, "I'm not going to be sharing a room with this mother fucker." I said pointing towards Timothée.

"Yeah, and I don't want to share a room with her either!" He retorted, crossing his arms and pouting, causing me to roll my eyes at his childish behavior.

After a while of arguing I eventually gave up, knowing I wouldn't win this argument.

I was to share a room with Timothée. Our mutual disdain for each other was palpable as we rode the elevator to the 19th floor.

"Going up," the elevator announced as it started moving.

I shot Timothée a scornful glare, my irritation palpable at the thought of sharing a room, especially with him – the last person I wanted as a roommate.

The elevator opened revealing the floor we would all be staying on for the next few days. We all went our separate ways just wanting to get to our rooms.

Timothée and I were walking down the halls when we saw our room number. Disgruntled and resigned to our fate, Timothée opened the door throwing his bags on the floor and going straight to the bathroom, grabbing a cup, and filling it with water, while I just stood in the middle of the room in shock.

"Uh, Timothée," I called out to him.

"What n/n?" He said with attitude, walking over towards me and taking a sip from his water.

"Look!" I said, pointing to the spacious yet troubling sight – a solitary king-size bed occupying the center of the room.

Any other person from the cast and I would've been totally fine with it. Why out of all the people did it have to be with Timothée? "You sleep on the bed; I'll sleep on the floor,""He said, grabbing two of the pillows and one of the blankets.

Feeling guilt take over my body, I said, "Tim, it's fine; we could just share the bed; we could put a pillow to divide us."

He didn't reply; he just smiled, throwing the pillow and blanket back on the bed before leaving for the bathroom once again. Timothée emerged from the bathroom in casual blue-and-white pajamas, a departure from his usual appearance. He settled onto his side of the bed, slipping beneath the duvet and cuddling against his pillow. He actually looked kinda cute right now. As much as I hated to admit it, he was a really attractive guy, he just has a terrible personality.

I, too, got under the covers, snuggling up into my pillow before drifting off to sleep.

The night passed relatively quiet until the early hours of the morning, I awoke to sudden movement in the room. To my dismay, my eyes slowly opened to reveal Florence, Emma, and Saoirse standing around the bed, brandishing their phones like paparazzi. I shot up, waking Timothée up from my sudden movements. "What the hell are you guys doing in here?" I questioned.

"I think the real question is how you even got in here." Timothée said, with an annoyed expression.

"Irrelevant," Florence said as Saoirse shoved her phone in our faces.

"Look how cute you guys look!" She said, revealing a photo of Timothée and me spooning with his arm wrapped around me.

My face flushed red as I looked down trying to hide my face. After a while of them teasing us, they eventually left. "Hey, um sorry about that, I didn't know I did that in, my sleep," Timothée said, his head down in embarrassment.

I put my hand on top of his making him look at me. "It's fine, really," I said, smiling at him.

Driven by a surge of impulse, I closed the distance between us, our lips colliding in an unexpected union. Timothée responded, his touch gentle yet firm as he cradled my face in his hands. A smile crept onto my lips as I tangled my fingers in his curls, savoring the moment of intimacy. We both pulled away for air, going back for another kiss when we heard someone clearing their throat, jumping away from each other we saw Emma and Saoirse with big smiles on their face, "you owe me 20 bucks, pay up." Florence said, putting her hand out.

"Seriously how the fuck are you guys getting in here?!"

***

This is definitely not my best work ever, so I apologize for that.

[fbfh]

i just want to be tall 😪

this was super random but i had to share this with someone because i just had a crisis of not being able to find a step stool so i had to climb the fucking counter top just to get a tea bag

NO BC SAME. short bitches club unite. I have to wear platforms at work or I can't fucking reach anything skjfsljks-

the good news is that Rodrick fucking loves your height. he loves being your tall lanky grungy emo boyfriend and he loves the way you have to stretch up on your tiptoes to kiss him. he loves how you look in heels and platforms and he loves how you look in flats. he loves that he can rest his head on top of your head and how easy it is to give you forehead kisses. he'll absolutley use this to his advantage and pick you up and set you down on any counter or elevated surface just to watch how flustered you get, claiming it's "so I can kiss you easier :)" but he has that stupid smirk on his face that means you know he just likes seeing you all nervous. you are and forever will be his passenger princess, and he keeps the seat scooched all the way up for you. whenever ben or chris or ward try to move it he's like nope. that stays up front for my shorty. he'll probably call you his shorty (only if you're into that and think it's cute. if you're sensitive about height jokes he'll make sure no one makes any or they get a drumstick thrown at them from across the room.) and above all else he loves how easy it is to cuddle you, how perfecly you fit into him when he spoons you. he could sleep like that for days and ngl he's probably tried to. when greg's school does hello dolly (and greg plays minnie fay, so of course rodrick's not going to miss any of the performances) and as soon as ermengarde and ambrose show up roddy leans over and whispers "that's us". it's so fucking cute.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Necklace: Kimball Cho x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989@caitlinrosa@mcfriggingonagall@kniselle@aiko24k

Companion piece to Break

You still wear the necklace that Cho gave you. You keep it tucked under your blouse so no one else can see it. It’s a small gold medallion with a Korean character etched into the beaten surface. You developed a habit when the two of you were together, of toying with it, of rubbing your thumb over the engraving.

“It means protection.” He’d told you as he’d helped to fasten it around your neck. “I don’t believe in it but every little helps right?”

You’d caught a bullet the day before. The vest had held but it had scared the living hell out of him when he’d heard about from your partner. He’d come over to you place that night to see for himself, undressed you, loved you.

The bruising had been coming out by then, a purple blossom over the place where your heart resided. You’d fallen sleep wrapped up in his arms that night and he had stayed awake listening to the sound of your breathing, replaying how much he could have lost.

He gives you the necklace the next day because he’ll do anything to tip the odds in your favour, even something as ridiculous as a protection talisman.

It’s a year later and the two of you aren’t together anymore, you haven’t been since he ended things because it got a little too real, made him feel a little too vulnerable. He regrets that, that he chose to run when he should have stayed.

The two of you still work in the same building, different departments but he still has to live with that decision, he has to face the consequences of his actions every damn day.

Tonight it’s worse. It’s past midnight and he’s sitting at his desk finishing up reports because he doesn’t want to go back to an empty apartment when he glances up across the corridor and sees your desk light still on, your brow furrowed in concentration. A glimpse of gold captures the light and he realises your fingers are toying with the chain that’s looped around your throat. His breath catches in his throat because he realises it’s the pendant that he gave you, that you still wear it after all this time.

It gives him hope, hope that maybe one day you’ll forgive him, that he can make you understand it was never about you, it was his own demons he was contending with.

It's three in the morning when you bump into each other at the elevator, he’s finally decided to call it quits and you’re lagging, he can tell from the way you keep rubbing at your eyes. When the elevator arrives he gestures for you to step in first. The entire ride you stand beside each in silence, watching the floor numbers on the electronic panel as the elevator descends.  

It’s when you get to the parking lot that you realise the lights on the left side where you’ve parked your car are out. They’ve been having issues with flickering for a few days now.

“Let me walk you to your car.” Cho requests because he hates the thought of you alone in the dark. He’s worked too many cases that start with circumstances just like this and he won’t be one of those people you see crying on TV who say things like ‘If only…”

He expects you to fight him, to remind him you’re a trained CBI agent, one that carries a gun and teaches seminars on hand to hand combat but you don’t.

“Thank you.” You say to his immense surprise. “I’d appreciate it.”

Love Cho? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[in1-nutshell]

Maxima slice of life

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

The kids wanted a sleep over at the base.

It took weeks of begging and pestering, mainly for Ratchet’s part in it.

Ratchet, being the softy he was, eventually gave the green light for the sleepover.

The bots themselves were curious on how these ‘sleepovers’ worked.

Bumblebee, Maxima, and Smokescreen were the most knowledgeable from the group having seen more human films with depictions of sleepovers.

The bots did join in, but it was three younger bots who mainly joined in the little games the kids had.

Monopoly was now banned from the base.

“You cheat! How dare you take the last railroad!”--Miko

“You snooze you lose Miko.”--Jack

“You knew I wanted that!”--Miko

“Think of it as pay back for money I had to pay for your house.”--Jack

“That’s it! I’m going to take your house and I’m taking Maxima and Smokescreen with me!”--Miko

“Fine! I’ll take Bee and Raf then!”--Jack

“I’ll see you in court!”--Miko

Maxima carefully reaching for the board.

“How about we play something else?”--Maxima

Eventually everyone had gone to sleep.

Except Maxima.

She couldn’t sleep for some reason. Tossing and turning in her berth she eventually gave up and went to the main room.

Maybe a midnight drive around would do her good.

She walked into the main room only to spot Raf wide awake on his laptop.

“Raf?”--Maxima

Raf jumps a bit and looks at Maxima.

“Maxima? What are you doing up?”--Raf

“I could ask the same thing. I’m pretty sure humans need more than 3 hours of sleep Raf.”--Maxima

Raf nods a bit before shyly replying.

“I can’t sleep.”--Raf

Maxima quietly walks up to him.

Raf wrapped his yellow blanket a bit closer to his body.

“Nightmares?”--Maxima

“No, just can’t sleep.”--Raf

Maxima nods in understanding.

“Same here. I was actually going to head to the roof for a bit, you want to join?”--Maxima

Raf nods his head a bit tightening his grip on the blanket again.

Maxima carefully scoops Raf up, mindful of the blanket, and quietly walked to the elevator.

Once they reach the top, she walks to her spot and lays down on the rocky surface, and places Raf Burrito in her subspace chassis.

There were still some stars in the sky.

The two begin to talk about life and retell stories.

“Then there was that one time I tried following Orion to the arena—”--Maxima

“Orion? Like Orion Pax?”--Raf

“Yeah, that was also the day I met Megatronus.”--Maxima

“You met Megatron!”--raf

“He was known as Megatronus at that time. Completely different mech than the one you know now.”--Maxima

“Really? I heard from Ratchet that he was a ruthless gladiator and was almost like a brother to Optimus.”--Raf

“He was ruthless in the arena… but to me… he was just my Uncle Megatronus, trying to do his best to help other bots around.”--Maxima

“…Do you miss them?”--Raf

Maxima pauses a bit.

“Miss who?”--Maxima

“Megatronus and Orion. Do you miss them?”--Raf

“… I miss how things were a bit simpler before the war, everyone does to an extent.”--Maxima

Raf nods, still a bit curious why Maxima avoided answering the question.

“But enough of that sappy stuff. Miko and I found some music the other day, I think you’d like some of these songs.”--Maxima

Raf slowly falls asleep on her chassis after a few minutes of the softer music playing.

Maxima opens her subspace in her chassis and puts him in there while keeping the hatch open.

She stays there on her back for a bit longer thinking about Orion Pax and the memories they shared together before the war started.

A few tears spilled as dawn was fast approaching on the horizon.

Carefully, Maxima gets up, to not disturb Raf, and goes back down to the base.

She exits the elevator seeing Ratchet and Optimus walking into the main room.

They must have wanted to get in the peace and quiet of the day before everyone else woke up.

Ratchet gave her a pointed look while Optimus gave her a questioning one.

She makes a shushing motion pointing at Raf in her subspace.

The two other mech nod as Maxima gently places the smaller human back in his place with the others.

She yawns a bit, venting softly.

Tenses a bit feeling someone pick her up and placing her on their back.

Optimus has her and pulls her into a piggyback ride back to her room.

“Optimus? You don’t need to do this.”--Maxima

He looks over at his sparkling with sleep in her optics.

“Really its fine I can get to my room—"--Maxima

Optimus only tightens his grip a little and walks to her room.

Maxima looks over at Ratchet for help.

He just smiles a bit before going back to work.

“Traitor.”—Maxima

Maxima lays her helm on Optimus’s neck cables and vents softly accepting defeat.

Optimus reaches the door to only then realize that Maxima had fallen asleep on his back.

“Some things do not change with you Little one.”—Optimus

He opens the door and makes his way to the berth where he gently places her down.

The Prime gently ran his digit on his sparklings helm like he did as Orion Pax eons ago.

Maxima lets a small smile slip in her sleep.

“Rest well Little one.”—Optimus

He gets up and softly closes the door before returning to the main room.

[ceruleansol]

Just found there’s little to no written content for Suzume here, so I started another wip on a whim. This’ll probably be a mix of romance and angst.

a Souta x reader (snippet)

Plz rb if you enjoyed !

--

Eyes open, the air around you still feels ethereal.

It's gotten worse, your ability to tell the difference between your dreams and the waking world. The worst part of it is your keystone; the one thing keeping you tethered and grounded is missing.

Staring at the familiar ceiling not a couple feet above you, you reach out and touch it. The coolness of the surface tingles through your fingers. It sure feels real.

The sheets and blankets that cover you keep you wrapped in warmth as they do most mornings.

You release a sigh. Time to bite the bullet.

Reluctance and anticipation overwhelm your heart, but you bring yourself to turn your head to look past the edge of the elevated bed and over the rest of the rented flat.

There's no one.

“(Name)...”

There's no one... 

“(Name)...”

He left...? 

“(Name).”

Your eyes open, a sharp intake of air expanding your lungs. Blue eyes and a tousle of dark hair immediately greet you. His face is worried.

A pad from his finger swipes gently at your cheek, taking a tear you hadn't noticed away with it.

“Hey...” his voice is soft but laced with concern. You realize most of his body is on top of yours, providing a comforting weight. "Happy sunrise. You were in a deep sleep again. You okay..?"

“Souta?”

He smiles at that. “I'm here.”

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

Let's see what Clover did (yeah i had to play the whole game again):

Decided to find out what happened to the five missing children and bring them home to the surface

Complimented Froggit

Comforted Flier

Distracted Penilla from drawing so she could take a break

Left the exact amount of money on the lemonade stand despite there being no attendance to take it

Gave Sweet Corn a hug

Helped Rorrim fulfill his purpose (make others not criticize how they look)

Respected Decibat's need for silence

Joined Crispy Scroll's excited yelling over anime so he wouldn't feel lonely

Complimented Micro Froggit

Played count the dust with the dust bunny monster

Didn't disturb Decibat while he was asleep

Even when helpless and wrongfully attacked, decided to befriend Dalv, thus causing him to give up on his lonely lifestyle and start making friends

Because the monsters in the Ruins finally got to go outside, all this happened: 1) Sweet Corn got to open a free hugs booth 2) Penilla got to draw things outside of the Ruins, see the big corn cob picture she made for Dalv, and realize that she and Dalv ARE friends 3) Crispy Scroll got to go to the dump and find more anime tapes 4) Flier could learn new dance moves and (maybe) buy a beach house 5) Rorrim could go on adventures

Took their time to get to know Dalv and explore his house

Didn't invade Pops' privacy and waved at him before closing the wardrobe

Danced with Frostermit and got it out of its shell (literally and metaphorically)

Put Insomnitot to sleep

Ended up buying Mo's poor quality products because they knew he was struggling financially x1

Patiently explained the dangers of an open fire to Know Cone

Believed that the remnants of the snowman were full of potential for new life

Played a game with the Shufflers and became their friend

Got the Honeydew Resort band to play that furry monster's favorite song

Found one monster's mitten

Got another monster a coffee and matches so they wouldn't freeze

Found a map for the lost tourists

Freed Slurpy from the pole

Spent time chatting with the Honeydew Resort shopkeeper and learned more about Dalv, who ended up fulfilling his dream of having an organ concert in the end credits

Got Trihecta to split up and literally and metaphorically get off each other's backs so all three could be who they wanted to be individually

Begrudgingly insulted Martlet so they could spare her

Forgave Martlet for fighting them and trusted her to keep them safe

Gave Martlet the highest scores on her questionnaire

Pat Dunebud

Ended up buying Mo's poor quality products because they knew he was struggling financially x2

Made Cactony feel love for the first time

Fixed the elevator in the mines

Helped Bowll put his guard down and discover his true self

Found the mine worker's hat, causing him to get a promotion in the end credits

Did their best to dance with El Bailador despite being bad at it

Sat next to Kanako's friend on the swing

Told Violetta she had nothing to fear

Forgave Martlet for abandoning them

Saw potential in the sapling to grow into something beautiful

Hung out with Starlo and the Feisty Five despite the gang kidnapping them

Was worried about what was bothering Ceroba while she was checking out Starlo's movies that Kanako used to watch with him

Proved to Blackjack that humans can be good

Didn't attack the FF even though they unfairly ganged up on them

Even though they were unfairly attacked by Starlo, they surrendered to him

Didn't make fun of Starlo's true face

Didn't get upset with Martlet for yet again abandoning them

Cleaned Jandroid

Helped Goosic produce music that's actually pleasant to listen to

Ended up buying Mo's poor quality products because they knew he was struggling financially x3

Calmed Guardener down to the point she stopped attacking them and Ceroba

Helped Telly-Vis work together

Calmed Ceroba down while she was yelling at the Steamworks robot

Spared Axis, knowing that he was the last thing left of Chujin, and trusted Ceroba with her plan

Overall took their time to talk to everyone they met so they could understand their situation

Changed Martlet's entire perspective on humans

Tried to understand the deeper reason as to why Ceroba was doing what she was doing, hugged her and forgave her

Decided not to hide underground and willingly sacrificed their SOUL for monsterkind even after being hurt, attacked, and killed so many times (also during the 100+ runs)

Knew the sacrifice might mean nothing but went along with their decision anyway and put faith in whoever would come after them

Waited for their friends to leave before they died, in a lot of pain

Before that reassured Ceroba they'd be okay so she'd be at least a bit comforted

Delivered true JUSTICE

[holdinbacksecrets]

neighbors with seventeen

seungcheol: your balconies are side by side. at first, you simply acknowledged each other before sharing surface level conversation that evolved into pouring him a glass of your favorite wine over the railing— missed droplets met the pavement like rain. last night, he laughed after spending hours talking, wondering why you’re still meeting this way. he’d prefer having you closer

jeonghan: not only are you coworkers, but you’re also neighbors, and the people you work with have enjoyed creating their own stories as to why you arrive at every faculty dinner and party together. he’s aware. he’s heard their whispers in the office kitchen, but you have absolutely no idea. you’re too distracted by the feelings growing for him and the embarrassment you felt at the last meeting when you were caught staring by your supervisor

joshua: he signed you up for a couples pottery class, and your heart beats like crazy whenever he knocks on your front door to pick you up. you never asked why he chose pottery, but he had a plan and made you a set of tea cups and a matching tea kettle. you settled for a couple of popcorn bowls and a dish to set keys or jewelry in. he uses the popcorn bowl you gave him on a regular basis and sends pictures of the various foods it’s perfect for

jun: he’s so beautiful, and you find yourself looking through your peephole to avoid running into him because he makes you nervous. a man hasn’t made you this nervous since your third year at university, but this is so much worse. this feels so domestic. he writes his grocery list in the elevator. he hums in the hallway. he takes pictures at the park you frequent when the weather is perfect. he helped you with the massive flower pot you were struggling to get inside your apartment. he invited you over for dinner when a snowstorm kept you housebound through the weekend. he leaves your packages outside your door with funny notes taped to their cardboard… if you see him one more time you’ll fall in love

soonyoung: he got sick at your birthday party and had to leave early. he felt absolutely terrible about it and spent weeks organizing a plan to make it up to you. the very first day you met, you had a busan keychain. he asked about it. you hadn’t been for years, but you think about the trip every day— miss the ocean and its scent in the breeze. finally, when his plan was finished, he asks if you’ll be home that evening. he hands you an envelope. inside is a keychain of a plane. a second envelope contains another keychain of ocean waves. the final envelope holds a plane ticket with a note from the ocean “my breeze misses you, and i can’t wait to see you again. i’m so excited, i’ll stick to your skin”

wonwoo: he reads in the courtyard with an americano. one morning, you came down with an extra slice of banana bread. he asked you to join him after shared gratitude. you wrote down the title of his book and read it cover to cover that night. the next time you see him, you have pumpkin bread and wide eyes, excited to share your thoughts on the novel. you leave with a list of recommendations and his number

jihoon: his music is too loud, and you can’t fall asleep. you’re close to knocking on his door before realizing it’s actually him. he’s singing. he’s playing the guitar, and you forget about your long day and the craved sleep. you listen to him until the sun rises and the melody ends

seokmin: you wonder if he shows his exhaustion to anyone else but you, along with the tears and dissatisfaction. he’s so hard on himself, but you’re so damn proud. you feel lucky to know his sincerity and witness his laughter when the moon is high. he rests his head on your shoulder when the movie ends. he tilts his head from across the table while you sip tea and share dreams you’ve suppressed and described as tiny, intangible streams of thought. he told you otherwise, that they’re like shooting stars craving your nurturing and deserving of your efforts. you support one another. you love each other. there’s an intimacy existing here that has never been known by you before him

mingyu: when your parents come to visit, your mother catches a glimpse of him across the hallway. he looks at you first and smiles before greeting them respectfully. your mother immediately says “once you break up with that boyfriend of yours, go for a handsome man like him with kindness in his eyes. do you know my daughter? she’s quite stubborn and far too romantic— a dangerous combination. keep an eye on her for me, hmm?” you quickly usher your parents into your apartment, cheeks hot and blossomed. he bites his lip to keep from laughing because this all could’ve been avoided if you had told your parents that boyfriend of yours hasn’t been yours for months, and you’re entirely smitten with the kind, handsome neighbor

minghao: the walls are so thin, and he’s heard you cry yourself to sleep four nights in a row. on the fifth night, he knocks. you stop immediately, covering your mouth with your hands and apologizing. he tells you he was about to start a movie (he wasn’t) and would love some company (only yours)

seungkwan: he’s slept over and made breakfast in the morning. he vacuumed and did your laundry when you broke your foot. he helped in any way he could. he sent your parents updates via text. he kissed the tears on your cheeks when you were overwhelmed and everything hurt, when you felt a silly kind of worthlessness. but it wasn’t silly, and he told you so

hansol: you’ve watched his cat when he goes away for weeks because of work. the majority of your texting conversations are about his cat until an accidental text is received showing him with friends at the ghibli museum. you respond with ghibli reaction memes, and he brings you back a paper bag of goodies. you tell him you might fall in love with him, and he blushes even though you were mostly joking

chan: he’s been your neighbor for three years, and he’s become your favorite person. it’s starting to freak you out— how you’ve finally grasped a richer understanding of the desire for marriage, for a life partner. he’s the only person you can imagine beside you— intertwined with your journey and holding your hand, but you’re terrified to tell him so

[unabashegirl]

Enticing 32 (HS)

Summary: Harry is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?

work count: 1.7K

ALL ENTICING CHAPTERS

The city lights twinkled like distant stars as Harry made his way through the rain-soaked streets. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, a storm of memories and uncertainties. The encounter with Y/N had stirred up feelings he thought he had buried deep within him, but now they resurfaced with an intensity that was impossible to ignore.

As he walked, the rhythm of the raindrops seemed to echo the beat of his heart. He couldn't shake the image of Y/N from his mind—the way she had looked at him, her voice trembling with emotions unspoken. Harry's steps grew slower as he navigated the familiar paths of the city, lost in thought.

Back at his apartment, the solitude felt suffocating. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, hoping it would help calm the storm within him. But the amber liquid did little to quell the turmoil that raged beneath the surface. He paced the living room, his mind replaying the conversation with Y/N over and over.

The memory of their shared moments—the laughter, the whispered confessions, the stolen glances—flooded his mind. He had tried to move forward, to build a life for himself and his son, but Y/N's reappearance had shattered the fragile walls he had erected around his heart.

The next day, as the sun rose over the city, Harry found himself standing in front of a mirror, adjusting his tie. He was preparing for the meeting with Y/N, a mixture of anticipation and nerves churning within him. He hadn't been able to sleep much the night before, his mind consumed by thoughts of what their meeting would bring.

He left the apartment with a sense of purpose, the memories of his past and the possibilities of his future warring within him. As he entered the bustling city streets, he felt a surge of determination. He had a son to care for, a company to run, and now, a chance to reconnect with the woman who had once meant everything to him.

Arriving at the office building, Harry took a deep breath before stepping inside. The receptionist greeted him warmly, and he made his way to the elevator with a mixture of nerves and excitement. He couldn't shake the feeling that this meeting was a turning point—a chance to mend what had been broken.

Y/N's assistant, Sarah, greeted him as he entered the office. Her warm smile was a stark contrast to the tension that seemed to hang in the air. Harry followed her to a conference room, his heart pounding as he anticipated Y/N's arrival.

Minutes later, the door opened, and Y/N walked in. Her presence filled the room, her eyes meeting Harry's as a mixture of emotions flickered across her face. There was a moment of hesitation, a silence that spoke volumes, before they both settled into their seats.

The conference room felt heavy with unspoken words as Harry and Y/N faced each other. The past, with all its regrets and missed opportunities, seemed to hang between them like a palpable presence. Harry's mind raced, torn between the memories that flooded back and the reality of the present.

“I'm sorry,” Y/N began, her voice carrying a mix of regret and vulnerability. “Not for leaving, but for how I did it. I know I hurt you.”

Harry studied her, his gaze searching her eyes for any sign of deception. He felt a surge of conflicting emotions—the anger he had buried, the hurt he had masked, and the undeniable affection that still lingered beneath the surface.

His silence prompted Y/N to continue, her words tinged with a sincerity that resonated deep within him. “I've carried the weight of what happened between us all these months. I didn't handle things well, and I've regretted that.”

Harry's jaw tightened as he struggled to contain the storm of emotions within him. The ache of their past was raw and hearing her acknowledge the pain she had caused was both cathartic and unsettling.

“I never stopped caring,” Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not then, and not now.”

Harry's chest tightened at her confession. He had buried his feelings, had pushed aside his desire to reach out to her over the last months. Yet, here she was, echoing the sentiments he had tried to suppress.

Swallowing hard, he leaned forward, his gaze locked on hers. “Y/N, I won't deny that I cared. But we can't change the past.”

She nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “No, we can't.”

The room seemed to pulse with unresolved emotions as they sat in the weight of their shared history.

“I’m clearly pregnant” Y/N said, her voice carrying a mixture of trepidation and determination. She ran her hands over her the small bump.

Harry's heart raced as he waited for her further words, his mind racing with the possibilities of what that could mean. He braced himself for anything, knowing that the path ahead could be just as complicated as the history they shared.

The words hit Harry like a lightning bolt, a mixture of shock, confusion, and something he couldn't quite define coursing through him. He blinked, his mind struggling to process the enormity of her revelation.

Y/N nodded; her gaze unyielding. “Yes, Harry. It's yours.”

The room seemed to spin around him as he grappled with the truth she had just dropped. His mind raced, trying to reconcile the past with the present, the emotions he had buried with the reality that was unfolding before him.

“You can't just drop something like this out of nowhere,” Harry finally managed, his voice strained.

“I know,” Y/N replied, her own voice shaking. “I didn't plan for any of this to happen.”

The tension in the room was palpable, the weight of their shared history now intersecting with a future neither of them had anticipated. Harry's mind raced with questions, doubts, and a strange sense of hope that he dared not fully embrace.

“You expect me to just accept this?” Harry's frustration boiled over, his words sharper than he intended. Harry's voice trembled with a mixture of disbelief and hurt as he stared at Y/N, his emotions raw and unfiltered. “I can't believe you never called me. You never told me about the pregnancy. You hid it from me all this time.”

Y/N's expression wavered between frustration and her own pain. “Harry, you don't understand. I had my reasons.”

“Reasons?” Harry's tone was edged with disappointment, his eyes locked onto hers. “You convinced William, my best friend, to keep it from me too. That's not just a betrayal of our history, Y/N, that's a betrayal of trust.”

Y/N's jaw clenched as she met his gaze, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. “You think this was easy for me? You think I didn't struggle with the decision?”

“Of course, it wasn't easy,” Harry shot back, his voice strained. “But that doesn't excuse keeping something this important from me. We were together once, Y/N. We shared everything.”

“I didn't want to burden you,” Y/N retorted, her voice sharp with anger. “You already have Oliver to worry about.”

Harry's frustration mingled with a sense of helplessness. “And what about me? Did you think about how this would affect me? How would it feel to find out like this?”

“I'm not asking for your pity, Harry,” Y/N snapped, her eyes blazing. “I made a choice, one that I thought was best for me and for the child.”

Harry's resolve stiffened, his voice laced with a mixture of hurt and determination. “I'm willing to take responsibility. But that doesn't mean I have to accept how you handled this. I want a paternity test done.”

Y/N's expression twisted, a combination of disbelief and indignation. “You want a paternity test? You're seriously asking me to prove the parentage of my own child?”

Harry's jaw tightened; his gaze unwavering. “I need to know, Y/N. After everything that's happened, after the way you hid this from me, I need to be sure.”

Tension crackled in the air, their emotions colliding in a storm of hurt and frustration. The unspoken history between them, the choices they had made and the consequences they were now facing, hung between them like an insurmountable barrier.

Y/N's voice quivered as she fought to control her anger. “I can't believe you would doubt me like this.”

“And I can't believe you kept something so important from me,” Harry replied, his voice a mixture of anger and pain. “I need to be certain, Y/N. For my sake and for the child's.”

The room seemed to pulse with the weight of their conflicting emotions. The past, with its shared memories and shattered trust, collided with the present, forcing them to confront their mistakes and the consequences they couldn't ignore. As they stared at each other, the chasm between them felt both impossible to bridge and filled with the potential for healing—if only they could find a way to navigate the treacherous path ahead.

Y/N's eyes welled with tears, her vulnerability laid bare. “I don't expect anything from you, Harry. But I thought you deserved to know.”

As their eyes met, a torrent of emotions swirled between them. The road ahead was uncertain, fraught with challenges and revelations they could no longer ignore. Yet, amid the tension and the pain of their past, there was a glimmer of possibility—a chance to unearth truths, heal wounds, and perhaps forge a new path forward.

In that moment, as the weight of their shared history mingled with the uncertainty of their future, Harry and Y/N realized that sometimes, the hardest conversations were the ones that held the power to transform lives and rekindle a love that had never truly died.

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[michelleleewise]

Blue Dhalia

Pairing: Avenger Loki x female jotun reader

Warnings: mentions of past trauma, mentions of past torture, anxiety, panic, angst with a tiny bit of fluff, loki needs a hug, y/n needs a hug. I think that's it, If I missed anything I'm sorry!!!!

Summary: Loki tries to deal with resurfacing feelings....y/n tries to remember her past.....

**dividers by: @firefly-graphics

A/N-a very special thank you to @mochie85 for helping me work this out and brainstorming with me!! You are absolutely amazing love!! 💚💚💚

Part two--Part three-

Loki sat in his chair in the library, reading the same page for the fifth time before snapping it shut tossing it on the table giving up. Sitting back he leaned his head on his fist, looking down at his hand. Dropping his glamor he watched his fingers turn blue. "I'm the monster parents tell their children about at night.." he shuddered, remembering the day his world sharttered.. "Everywhere you go there is war, ruin and death.." Odin's words echoed through his mind "your birthright...was to die, cast out onto a frozen rock." He rubbed is forehead, trying to push the memories back feeling a tear run down his cheek. He hadn't thought about such things in years, but finding that woman pulled all of it to the surface, and he hated it.

"Brother.." he heard Thor, quickly wiping his face he put the mask back on "what is it Thor?" He asked not looking at him. "Are you...is everything alright?" Thor asked sitting across from him. "Why wouldn't it be?" He asked looking out the window. "Loki, I know with your past you may be feeling..." Thor started "Do not presume to know anything of how I am feeling brother." Loki snapped glaring at him. "Apologies, I only thought.." Thor started "well that was your first mistake." Loki snapped looking back out the window hearing Thor sigh. "Just know that I am here if you wish to talk." Thor said. "Is that all you came here to say?" Loki asked turning to him. "Not all no, banner wished me to get you, he said the woman should hopefully wake soon an wishes you present." He said standing up. "Very well, lead the way." Loki sighed standing up.

The elevator ride down was silent when Loki looked up seeing they had passed the medical floor. "Thor, where are we going?" He asked looking at him "we had to move her a few floors down." He said as the elevator dinged "but thats.." Loki started as the doors opened. Thor nodded, walking out down the small hallway. Loki cleared his throat, following behind him as Thor opened the door. He slowly walked into the large open room, the glass cell in the middle. His thoughts swirled as he stared into the room....the helacarrier...locking Thor inside....pushing the button watching the cell release... a hand touched his shoulder making him jump "it is only for her protection brother, we don't wish her to hurt herself." Thor said. Loki cleared his throat looking at Thor "Well, Let's get this over with." He said walking to the stairs.

They made it to the bottom, taking long strides towards the desk set up next to the cell "banner, i was told you needed me." Loki said crossing his arms. "Loki, yes. She should wake up soon and i was hoping maybe you could talk to her, see what happened to her." He said looking through some papers "and what pray tell made you think I was the best choice?" Loki snarked "well Thor told me your the same species...Jotun right?" Bruce asked seeing Loki look at Thor "Brother, she needs someone like her...I thought..." he started when Loki put his hand up. He looked at the woman sleeping through the glass, he honestly was curious about her. When he touched her his seidr sensed...something but he couldn't put his finger on what. "Very well, open the door." He said walking up to the cell.

You slowly opened your eyes, seeing the white ceiling like before. You shot up, looking around seeing the green eyed man sitting on a chair looking at something when his eyes met yours. You started to back away when he he waved his hands and the thing in his hands disappeared "Hey, it's ok." He said softly holding his hands up as he stood up. "Do you understand what I'm saying?" He asked. You pulled the blanket up nodding. "And can you talk?" He asked not moving. You saw movement in the corner if your eye, looking over seeing the man with the hammer making you freeze "no, don't pay attention to him, focus on me." The man said stepping into your line of sight. "O..ok." You whispered looking down.

"Can you tell me how you got here?" He asked staying where he was. You cleared your throat looking at the wall "i..I remember white...and cold." You said working through your memory "a..and then...a man. He...took me." You said fidgeting with your blanket "He said...I was important. That I needed to go home." You said seeing the man sit back down. "He..um..he said my father needed me home." You explained. "And is this home? Is your father here?" The man asked leaning forward. You looked into his eyes, looking over his features, his long black hair "What is your name?" You asked watching him "my name is Loki." He said sitting back. You looked out to the other man "Thor?" You asked pointing at him. "Yes, he's my brother." Loki said when you looked at him "adopted.." he said.

"A..and you, you were blue...and now.." you trailed off studying him. He cleared his throat looking down "I am like you, we are Jotun." He said shifting in the chair. "But, you are not now?" You asked "it is an illusion...I use my siedr to look as I do now." He said crossing his arms. "You hide yourself...why?" You asked as he stood up "we are not here to discuss me, why are you here?" He asked sternly making you jump. "I don't know, the one who took me said my father...umm...Ego!...needed me home." You rushed out gripping your blanket. "H..he said I had a purpose to fulfill." You stuttered watching Loki pace back and forth. "I..I am unsure how long I was with them when the man told me he was bringing me here, he said there was another." You said looking down. "When they left I was able to get of my cell, to get away but....they came." You said shakely.

"Loki, come out for a moment." You heard a voice say making you jump. "Stay there, I will be right back." Loki said walking out. You looked out, seeing the two men talking when the one with glasses walked up. You looked around, seeing the door Loki went through was the only one. You went to stand up, stumbling a bit as you walked over to the glass, placing your hands on it when Loki walked back to the door. "Do you have a name?" He asked not moving from the door "umm..y/n...that's what the man who took me called me." You said turning around. "Very well..y/n the doctor wishes to examine you." He said when you saw the man with the glasses put on a white coat. "W..what did I do!?" You asked shrinking back "You didn't do anything, he just..." loki started "i..I'm sorry...I won't do it again...I didn't mean to." You rushed out seeing the man walk to the door.

"Y/n, he only wishes to make sure you are ok." Loki said stopping the man at the door. "Y..you won't do the heat will you? I'll do anything but that...p..please." You pleaded dropping to your knees. "Heat..no he just.." loki started as you backed up by the bed "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I won't run again I promise." you said putting your head down, hoping they would be lenient. "Banner, take the coat off." You heard Loki say closing your eyes, wrapping your arms around your middle. "Y/n.." you heard Loki say, opening your eyes seeing a pair of boots in front of you before he kneeled down in front of you.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his "He will not hurt you, I swear." He said not taking his eyes off of you. You looked between him and the other man "he is only going to make sure you are healing, nothing more." Loki said. "W...will you stay?" You asked looking into his eyes, you weren't sure why but there was something in them that made you feel safe. "If it will help." He said. You nodded looking between them. "Very well then, come on." He said standing up holding out his hand. "But...you will..." you started "it's fine, take my hand y/n." He said. You reached your hand out, placing yours in his watching his hand turn the same as yours. He gently pulled you up, grabbing your arm to steady you when you looked up seeing the blue travel to his neck as he let you go, the blue turning to its original color.

You sat on the bed, bracing yourself when the other man came up "Hello y/n, my name is Bruce. Im just going to look your over ok." He said. You looked over seeing Loki nod "o..ok." you said closing your eyes. You watched as he put something on your chest that attached to his ears, tilting your head when he strapped something to your arm "to check your blood pressure, now open fow me." He said smiling, opening your mouth as be placed a glass stick under your tongue. He put everything away nodding to Loki as they both walked to the door. You fidgeted with the bottom of your dress when Loki came back "what is this called?" You asked pointing to your dress "that is a hospital gown." He said simply as you nodded "i..I haven't had clothes in awhile." You said smoothing it out hearing Loki clear his throat.

"Banner said he wishes to keep you here a few more days to watch you. You are malnourished and dehydrated so you need to eat and rest, that in your arm is giving you fluids." He said pointing to a tube in your arm. "Your temperature is also too high for a jotun, so I have instructed him to turn on the a/c." He said making your eyebrows furrow "cold air, it will help your healing." He explained "It also appears you have not been able to clean yourself in some time, I can do so with me seidr for now If it is alright with you." He said "will it hurt?" You asked seeing his hands glow green "no, you shouldnt feel much at all" He said. You nodded feeling your skin turn colder, your body tingling as a green light hovered over you, your hair falling around your shoulders. You looked up seeing Loki staring at you.

"There, that will do until you can shower. I will take my leave now, make sure you rest." He said walking to the door "L..loki.." you said as he turned "w..will you come visit me...while I'm here?" You asked watching him look down. "We will see." He said opening the door. "Goodnight y/n." He said walking out. "Bye Loki." You said as the door closed. You watched him walk up to the other man, Thor before leaving. You felt the air get colder making you sigh. "Ok y/n, get some rest and I'll get you something to eat." The man, Bruce said as the lights dimmed. You laid down, pulling the covers up staring at the ceiling. You hoped this time would be different, they were all being so nice, but the others were nice too...at first....

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[johaerys-writes]

Chapter 2: i'd like to mean it when i say i'm over you

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

Patroclus wakes up to darkness again. The sky is a thick, smokey grey beyond the tall windows, interrupted by the tiny occasionally blinking lights of the skyscrapers and the moon that reflects on the surface of the sea in the distance. 

He pushes himself up with a sigh, rubbing the crick in the back of his neck that the couch left him with. Achilles is still sleeping soundly in the bed, obviously much less affected by jetlag than Patroclus is, unused to travelling as he is. 

His gentle breathing is the only sound in the room other than the hum of the air con just at the edges of his hearing. He is illuminated by the distant glow of the buildings nearby, and Patroclus studies the way his chest rises and falls with each breath. In this moment, still suspended between sleep and wakefulness, nothing feels real. Them being here together doesn’t feel real, Achilles sleeping only a few feet away from him doesn’t feel real. In the past year, Patroclus has spent so many sleepless nights wishing Achilles were right there next to him, and berating himself that he did, that this all still feels like a figment of his imagination, a drawn out anxiety-induced dream. 

Patroclus gets up quietly, as quietly as he can, and searches in the dark for his clothes. 

The hotel gym is empty at this time of day—or, perhaps, night. It isn’t day yet by any stretch of the imagination. Patroclus warms up on the treadmill for a bit, flicking through the international channels on the TV in front of him, then sweats out some of his unease and pre-conference jitters on the weight machines. By the time he finishes his workout, the sky is tinted a muted, greyish sort of purple, and the hotel lobby is waking up with activity. Patroclus pats his face and his neck with a towel and takes a big swig from his water bottle as he takes the elevator back to his room. 

When he walks into the room, Achilles is already up, sitting at the table before the laptop.  

Patroclus’ laptop.

“What the fuck—” Patroclus reaches the table with a couple of quick strides. He snaps the laptop shut and cradles it protectively against his chest. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I just took a peek, that’s all!” Achilles holds his hands up in a placating gesture, but Patroclus knows him well enough to know he isn’t guilty of his actions in the slightest. “You’ve been so weird and cagey about everything that I simply had to check it out. Can’t blame a guy for being curious.” 

“This is private,” Patroclus snaps at him. “Do you even know what private means? It’s password protected for a reason! You can’t just—hack your way into anything you want!” 

Achilles breathes out an amused chuckle. “I’d hardly call that ‘hacking’. It really wasn’t hard to guess what the password was.” He tilts his head to the side with a small kitten smile. “Especially since it’s my birthday.”

Patroclus glowers at him, his face growing uncomfortably hot. He knows it’s stupid and naive of him to have the same password for pretty much all his accounts and devices, especially if it’s the same password he’s had for years ever since he and Achilles set up their first email accounts together when they were like, thirteen.

“Why do you still have my birthday as your password, Pat?” Achilles asks, his voice a velvet purr. “Is it because you’ve missed me? Can't bear to be without me?”

He leans back in the chair, his lips curling in a smug smile. His eyes are still a little puffy with sleep, a faint imprint of the pillow on his cheek, and he’s still the most beautiful thing Patroclus has gazed upon today, or possibly in his life. 

Infuriating, that. 

“Stay the fuck away from my laptop,” he growls, jabbing at the air with his finger. “If I see you anywhere near it again, I’m kicking you out of this room. And I don’t care if you’ll have to sleep in the streets for the rest of the week. Do you hear me?” 

Achilles’ knowing smirk doesn’t fade, and that spikes Patroclus’ temper even more. He jerkily shoves the laptop in its case, then slams the bathroom door closed behind him before hopping in the shower. 

If he doesn’t throttle Achilles by the end of the week, he’ll consider it a miracle.

 Read the rest on AO3

[dragonsandphoenix]

The Scene from the My Stand In Novel That Should Have Stayed

I'll be honest My Stand In is increasingly losing me as a viewer, and so I went back to the novel and the audio drama to find out why. After revisiting some scenes I've come to the tentative conclusion that MSI feels like a surface level interpretation of the novel, speaking as a novel fan.

MSI spoilers in all its iterations (drama, novel & audio drama):

What confuses me about MSI is that in terms of plot and broad character arcs, it's pretty faithful to the novel itself. And while Professional Body Double isn't my favourite Shui Qian Cheng novel I liked it for what it was and even thought the audio drama adaptation elevated its source material. And to be fair, I liked the first 6 episodes of MSI a lot, like scrolling through the tag in tumblr everyday a lot. To me, MSI shines when it feels like watching a 188 novel come to life.

But for the past few weeks, that investment has waned. Something's missing. Maybe it's the way that characters being shallower versions of themselves have caught up to me, maybe it's the way the show gets bogged down in plot mechanics when the characters' inner thoughts and feelings are meant to be what drives the narrative, and I just don't feel as invested in these characters.

This scene from the audio drama is what led me to read the novel in the first place. Its absence from the drama is emblematic of my issues with MSI. It happens right after Joe (Zhou Xiang) meets Ming's (Yan Mingxiu) brother. Instead of leaving the house he goes upstairs and goes to sleep. Then Ming stumbles into the room drunk and we get this melancholic moment.

My absolute favourite thing about this scene is the complexity of it. We get to the heart of MingJoe's relationship, and its fundamental issue: in spite of their passionate and (imo) genuine feelings for one another, they can never be on the same page. They love each other, but they're so deeply broken to the point of being destructive to themselves and each other.

The point is this is a character and emotionally-driven story.

It is especially Joe's story, he's our main POV character and he is so clearheaded about his feelings actually. He does acknowledge that if Ming showed him an ounce of care in his past life he'd accept him. But now they're way past that. He's disillusioned, and that feeling of lost love is captured so well here that isn't often captured in BL.

I honestly feel the story becomes incoherent if we don't have a good handle on his and to a lesser extent Ming and some important side characters' inner worlds.

One my main issues with MSI is that it seems to be constantly missing the Point. Part of that is due to the differing characterizations but it also stems from the scriptwriters losing sight of the heart of the story and the need to present the plot as clearly as possible with little ambiguity. Most recently, Ming spends a significant chunk of episode 8 trying to figure out if Joe 2.0 is Joe 1.0 and then concocting different ways to test if they're the same person. In a way it's pretty faithful to the novel, these are things that happen in there too. The drama adapts these plot elements, adds obvious visual cues (the egg, the sneeze), adds additional scenes of Ming consulting the blind shaman on finding Joe and place dramatic weight to them in a way that we as the audience should be really invested on whether Ming will solve this Great Mystery.

But it doesn't matter. It matters very little to Joe, he's just trying to move on with his life and it doesn't even matter to Ming, this obsession of his is just another form of his grief and denial ("I found someone else but it isn't you", "I feel so ridiculous now"). This emphasis on what ultimately doesn't matter comes at the cost of character depth. Scenes jump from one to the next with no room for characters to reflect or even react to what just happened to them. Relationships and characters get stripped down to their bare bones (the brotherhood between Joe and Wut will always be something I cherish) and I just think this is all a shame.

I'll ultimately be happy if My Stand In succeeds and does well, as it might open up doors for more challenging BL projects. I just hope that comes with more nuanced and complex narratives as well.

[random0lover]

something like a fluff soap x reader?

Hot Chocolate & Hoodies

Pairing: Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish x GN!reader

Word Count: 1,226

Warnings: Fluff, SFW, reader is upset at the beginning and a little sad, reader puts on pajama pants and a hoodie, GN!reader, although reader is called bonnie, hen, and sweets.

Notes: Honestly don’t think this is the greatest as it didn’t take me long to write. This should be POC friendly as I didn’t really do any describing of the reader's body but really only of their emotions and actions. If you find anything that makes you believe otherwise please let me know as I do not want anyone to feel excluded when reading my work!

Today had been exhausting. All you wanted to do was go home, make yourself a cup of tea or hot chocolate, and crawl into your and Johnny's bed to watch your favorite movie and hopefully not cry yourself to sleep again.

Johnny had been deployed for three months and there was a strict no contact rule due to the sensitivity of the mission. You missed him terribly and wished he would be home already but you didn’t know when that would be so for now you had to make do with wearing Johnny’s hoodie to sleep and carrying around an old pair of his dog tags which you had been anxiously grabbing all day.

Today your boss had decided to yell at you for something you had nothing to do with and you walked out. You usually didn’t deal with things like that but you had enough. It had been happening for months now, people lying and saying you did something when it was really them that did it. You tried going to HR about it and they just shoved the issue away as if you were lying and you finally snapped. You knew you probably wouldn’t have a job to go to Monday but you honestly couldn’t care less.

With a sigh you put your car in park and stare at your apartment building for a moment dreading returning to the empty space. Things always felt duller when he wasn’t around to fill the space with his stupid jokes that you loved or his obnoxious laughter that you could hear from the other side of your small home.

You quickly grab all of your stuff from the passenger seat and make your way into the building and to the elevator. You're lost in thought and before you know it you're standing in front of the grey door that’s marked with a simple gold painted “26”.

You lean your head against the cold surface and try to find all the keys to unlock the three locks.

Johnny had been worried about your safety for when he wasn’t here so he insisted on installing a security system and having three locks and an extra two on the inside of the door that could not be unlocked from the outside.

Finally pushing the door open, you sit your bag on the little table beside the door and put your car keys on the little hooks. You kick your shoes off putting them in the little basket.

Walking through the flat you turn on the lights you know you’ll need and make your way to the master bedroom so that you can change out of your work clothes, deciding that you’ll take a shower later.

As soon as you're in the room you quickly rid yourself of your work clothes and pull on a pair of pajama pants that were littered with little bars of soap and Johnny’s hoodie. You pull the material up to your nose and take in the smell on his cologne and feel your shoulders slowly going slack.

You feel the tears welling up in your eyes and shake your head trying to rid yourself of the thoughts of how much you missed him and wished he was here.

You walk out of the room and try to decide on whether you’re going to make tea or hot chocolate. You’re about to pass the living room when you hear a voice and your heart squeeze’s.

“Johnny?” You whisper and work yourself around to find him sitting on the couch and looking like he just got out of the shower.

He chuckles, “Am I really not that noticeable bonnie?”

The tears that you tried to repress are freely falling down your cheeks and you aggressively wipe them away trying not to make a fool of yourself.

He quickly comes up to you, large hands gripping your cheeks and thumbs wiping away your tears, ”Oh hen, please don’t cry.”

He starts kissing around your face causing you to giggle and snuggle your face into his chest, “I missed you so much Johnny.”

He sets his chin on the top of your head and releases a deep sigh before wrapping his arms around you tightly. You stand like this for what feels like 15 minutes before he leans back to look down at you with a gentle look. He pulls one hand from your waist and uses it to tilt your chin up higher towards him.

He places a gentle kiss to your lips and you sigh into it leaning your body more into him. He pulls away kissing you a few more times, “Were you about to make something to drink?”

You nod pulling yourself away from him to walk to the kitchen but his hand gripping yours stops you. You give him a questioning look but he answers with a nod of his head over to the coffee table where two coffee cups sit filled with a dark brown liquid.

You excitedly smile, “you made hot chocolate?”

He smiles gently before picking up the cups and handing them to you, “Why don’t you go get the room set up and I’ll get some snacks and we can watch some of our favorites? Then we can order out from that little place down the street that you like?”

You feel the tears welling up in your eyes from how loved he made you feel. He always knew the right things that would make you feel better and always had the right things to say. You loved him so much and as long as he would have you you wouldn’t let him go.

He pats your butt gently before walking around you to get some popcorn started and grab a few of your other favorite snacks.

You quickly—well as quickly as you can with two cups of burning hot liquid—get to your shared room and fix the room up. You turn the tv on and click Netflix, fix the messy blankets, and dim the lights down so that they would offer a little light.

You’re getting yourself comfortable in the bed when Johnny walks in carrying a large popcorn bowl, some candy, and a few other types of snacks. He sets it all down in their designated spots before climbing under the soft blankets and pulling you to lay on his chest.

Pressing play on his favorite movie, you snuggle yourself further into him, letting the sound of his heart beating under your ear and the smell of his cologne calm you. His hand starts to massage your shoulders, sometimes running down your back to massage the tense muscles there.

Your eyes are getting harder to keep open the more his hand roams across your back. You haven’t felt this content since he left and honestly it couldn’t have been a better day for him to come home. You needed him today and for the first time today you actually felt happy and not wanting to rip someone's head off.

“I love you sweets.”

You sigh happily into his chest and feel yourself drifting away into the best sleep you’ve had in awhile, “I love you so much Johnny.”

You feel his lips push into the hair at the top of your head before your mind is gone, floating away into unconsciousness.

I really enjoyed writing this as I’ve been having a rough few days lately and I really just need to cuddle up with any of the cod men at this point! Anyways I hope you enjoy and that I was able to give you the type of fluff you wanted <3

Requests are open! I can not promise when or if I will write them but I do prefer requests that are slightly more specific as I find them a little bit easier to write but it’s not required. Thanks for reading my darlings ♡

[forever-rogue]

Hiii and happy 11 days till Christmas!!! I saw the prompt list you reblogged and I wondered if you could write something for sweet soft boy Steven Grant 🥺I just looove the way you characterize him, it’s perfect, and I really really miss the moonknight days. Anyways, maybe this prompt with some hurt comfort goodness? " you don't have to be so strong all the time. i can be strong for the both of us, if you'd let me... "

it’s okay if you don’t write I understand 💖

AN |  A lil Christmas pressie from me to y’all! Just some angst and softness with our favorite boy😌

Pairing | Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 1.5k

Masterlist | Main, Moon Knight

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

It’s been a few days since you’ve seen Steven; a few days since he’d come by your apartment and graced you with his presence. Had it been even a few months ago, you wouldn’t have blinked an eye. Sure, you would have missed him and been dismayed at the emptiness his absence instilled in your life…but you wouldn’t have questioned it. 

But you knew him. Knew that he wasn’t just Steven Grant, the sweet mild mannered man you’d met while working at the museum. You knew his secret and had promised to hold and keep it. It was because of this very knowledge that you grew worried. What if something had happened to him? To Marc? And you weren’t able to protect either of them? You’d never forgive yourself. 

Which is why, at three o’clock in the morning on a rainy Wednesday, you found yourself leaving the comfort and safety of your warm apartment to go to his. Maybe it would lead to nothing…maybe it would lead to answers. Either way…you had to find out. You were still dressed in pajamas, trainers haphazardly thrown on, along with your broken umbrella (you’d meant to replace it but hadn’t gotten to that part yet) as you made the trek the few blocks over to his apartment. 

When you got to his building, you looked up at his window to see if by chance his light was on. But there was nothing; but then again what did you expect? Most people were asleep by now. You let yourself in and walked quickly to the elevator, pressing the button for his floor. You must have looked a sight, drenched and with wild eyes as the ride seemed to take incredibly long. But luckily, you made it after a few long minutes and got out, suddenly nervous.

All the worry you pushed down and compartmentalized were bubbling to the surface as you stood in front of his door, hand raised to knock softly. Should you even knock? What if he was sleeping and you woke him up? At least then you’d know he was okay. Should you just let yourself in? What if that woke him up and then he just found you creeping around his apartment? Maybe you could just hang around until he left the apartment at some point and you could pretend you had just been on your way over. Maybe - 

But any more thoughts, or silly plans that you could have concocted were quickly dashed when you heard the door unlock and open. You couldn’t help the small sound of surprise that escaped your lips when you saw Steven on the other side of the door. He looked tired, curls wild and roguish, along with dark circles under his eyes, but other than that he looked unharmed - fine. 

The relief that washed over you was palpable, as you realized that he was alive and well. You couldn’t help but throw your arms around him and pull him tightly into your body, swallowing him with your love and affection. He remained still for a moment before realizing what was going on, and then he hugged you back just as fiercely, burying his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. 

“Steven,” you reluctantly pulled back after a few minutes, “I-I…you’re okay. Oh, I’ve missed you, my love.”

You took his face in your hands and studied his face to make sure there were no marks you hadn’t seen initially. He turned his face into your touch, letting the soft warmth of your palm run along his cheek. The two of you were silent for a few moments before either of you spoke, but when the soft spell of silence was broken, it was him that spoke first, “I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have disappeared like that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured him softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek, taking your hand in his and threading your fingers together, “all that matters is that you’re okay.”

“How did you…know to come?” he stepped inside and flicked on the lights, gently closing the door behind him, “I thought about calling or coming to see you, but didn’t want to wake you up.”

“You wouldn’t have,” you brushed away the tears of relief that had pearled up with the sleeve of your damp sweater, “I wasn’t asleep. I haven’t been sleeping much the past few days.”

“Because of me.”

“Not entirely,” you smiled softly, settling yourself down on the couch, discarding your damp sweater and grabbing a blanket, “it’s just a lot of things adding up all at once. How did you…know I was at the door? I hadn’t even knocked.”

“Good senses,” he played it off as though it was no big deal and everyone had the abilities that he and Marc had. He joined you on the couch, eagerly scooting under the blanket where you held it up for him. You snuggled into his side and he wasted no time in wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You rested his head on his chest, listening to the steady and strong beat of his heart. You were tired, relieved to have him back, the sound slowly started to lull you to lull you into the land of slumber. 

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you before he spoke again. When he did, his voice was soft, and you could easily hear all the emotion that was behind it. You felt his thumb stroking across your arm, a habit you learned that he had when he was nervous, “I, umm…I came back two days ago.”

“Two days ago?” you moved back so you look at him, a frown settling on your features. He wished he could just brush it away with a gentle kiss, but he knew that you deserved an explanation, “but you didn’t say anything…I’ve been…worried.”

“I know,” he rubbed his hand over tired face and sighed at himself more than anything, “I should have said something but…things felt so heavy. It took a bit to decompress and sort it all out…if you know what I mean.”

And you did - to the extent that an innocent bystander could - but you still couldn’t imagine just how very hard everything he did during his nighttime adventures were. You knew it was hard, and you could see how it affected him sometimes, but there was no way you could understand the full extent.

“I can only imagine what it must be like,” you reached over and touched his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek before carding a hand gently through his hair, “but Steven, I hope you knew that you can tell me whatever, whenever. You don't have to be so strong all the time. I can be strong for the both of us, if you'd let me. You do so much for others, but sometimes it’s okay to let others do things for you. To ask for help…because I want to do these things for you. Just like you always do for me.”

“I don’t think I could accurately put into words just how much you mean to me,” you could see his eyes glistening with emotion which only caused your heart to soften further, “but you mean the absolute world to me. Thank you, for always listening to me, and always being there for me. I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Funny,” you leaned in and kissed him, nothing more than a soft brush of lips, sweet and saccharine that left you both wanting more, “I feel the exact same way about you.”

This time he took the initiative and kissed you, pulling you further into his warm body and eventually into his lap, his hands settling on your waist as you looped yours around his neck. His touch was soft and tender, something you both loved, and you easily could have let him kiss you like that forever, “I love you, you know?”

“I love you,” the words had been exchanged between the two of you many times now, also soft and reverent with the promise of more, but they still managed to make your face flush with warmth and your tummy fill with butterflies. You were sure you could easily get lost in those big, brown eyes, “and I mean it, Steven. You don’t always have to be the strong one, sometimes that can be my job.”

“Okay,” the singular word, the answer to more than just your obvious question, was soft and almost cracked, “thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” you insisted, nudging your nose with his, “that’s just what you do for those you love. And I happen to love you very much.”

“More than-”

“More than anything,” you giggled softly, the sound going straight to his heart, “silly man!”

“I love you more than anything too,” he promised, “silly girl.”

[tritune]

Next to you Flashback to the night our bodies first met It elevated our souls, as this love excavated more Exploring yet absorbing each other in every breath You take me down in ways I’ve never felt before From a single taste of our skin, simply shakes all within With that sweet, tender, radiant heat you bring The way it molds with mine, and forms something so divine A love like no other, a love that only comes once in a lifetime I look back on every night and day I laid next to you For my heart skips a beat, in every second my naked body was in bed with you I feel at home, and all hope when I’m next you, I soak in your embrace, in any moment I get with you Until I wake up, start my days, and go to sleep every night in my bed laying next to you I will yearn for your vibrant silky skin, as i learn to conceal this need, this burning torture within This undying spark, ignites an eternal flame My fingers roam throughout every surface covered by every vein And with my palm, tracing every curve with purpose to pour out this gentle soul And calm every nerve with this wild love as my body lies next to yours You are my world I miss you, and I miss your soul more I haven’t felt it in quite some time now I need you to take me down, strike me now to the floor Lift my spirit up, make it soar, break me to my core I love you now, and tomorrow I love you more, For each day next to you my love exponentially grows, Till the day I leave this world behind, This force, this magic, will bind us This hold that gravitates beneath our feet Will shift, and lead the way, to find our way back to us I lose my breath, as you heighten every sense anytime, anywhere my body is next to you For it feels and fits best when it’s in bed with you And completes the rest, the missing pieces of you My body aches for you, it calls for you For you are the power to make me shake, tear me down, And rip my heart out and melt my soul right next to you