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#and now that i have finished you are welcome to do so once more
exhaslo · 10 hours
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Over-Time Ch3
(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)
Ch1, Ch2
Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff
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"On behalf of those of us at Alchemax, we would like to welcome you to our company. Please arrive at the Human Resources floor tomorrow with the information sent via email. We are happy to have you join us."
The shudder in your voice as you resisted the urge to squeal was sharp. You were at your current job, trying to hide from the crowd outside. This phone call was important, you told everyone that, and you were glad you took it.
"(Y/N)! GET OUT HERE WE NEED YOUR CLUMSY ASS!"
You yelped towards your coworker. Tears threatening to spill towards their harsh tone. Luckily you had just finished the phone call. How cruel could they be?
Hurrying back onto the floor, you yelped as another coworker tossed you a bunch of orders. Hurrying towards you station, you tried your best to make the orders but the pressure was getting to you. Everyone's yelling and the pace was too much.
"Strawberries, (Y/N)! Not Blackberries! Damn!"
"S-Sorry," You whimpered.
You hated working here. You hated this job, but this was the only place that could hire you fresh out of college. Everywhere you really wanted to work claimed that you didn't have enough work experience. Well how the hell were you supposed to get that if they didn't give you a shot?
"Hey, goofball, you're taking my shift tomorrow."
"H-Huh?!" You questioned, spilling the drink you were making, "Ah! No, no-"
"It's from 7am to 2pm."
"I-I can't!" You stuttered, trying to clean the mess you made, "I-I have s-something....something important to do!"
"Well change your plans, I already told the manager that you're taking my shift, goofball." Your coworker snapped before bumping into you, "Stop fucking up the drinks!"
You were biting the inside of your cheek as you tried your best to hold back your tears. You weren't going to let your cruel coworkers ruin your chance at a better life. You weren't going to deal with them anymore after today.
You just had to finish your shift.
And never look back.
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You woke up early for Alchemax. Triple checked all of your paperwork and identification. This was the most prepared you were ever going to be. You had blocked your current job from calling you so they wouldn't stress you out.
You even had some time to bake a small 'thank you' cake for Miguel, if you got the chance to see him. You were truly grateful for his help in getting you here. Hopefully it won't look weird on your end. This was just your way of thanking someone.
Once you arrived, you went up to the Human Resources floor to submit your information. As you waited, you focused on the elevator and saw Lyla step out.
"Ah, there you are." Lyla chirped, approaching you.
It was night and day from when you saw her during the interview. She was much more peppy than before.
"G-Good...morning," You whispered, feeling slightly nervous as to why she was looking for you.
"Is all her paperwork done?" Lyla asked the front desk lady, "Perfect, (Y/N), grab your stuff and follow me. I'm going to show you around~"
"Oh....Thank you,"
This felt strange. As you collected all of your things, you hurried behind Lyla. She was so nice and friendly. You weren't used to this, so it was a nice change of pace.
"Now that you're officially hired with us, you'll be getting paid for your time here today. I'm going to show you around the building first, then your station. I'm sure you'll love working here~!"
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Miguel grunted lowly as Lyla abandoned him during an important meeting. She wanted to meet you personally, leaving Miguel to suffer with the wolves. Miguel had very little patience with these men and now it was going to get worse.
Once the meeting was over, Miguel hurried back to his office. He needed a drink. There was only so much stupid and ignorance that he could deal with. Being a CEO was difficult. The patience that Miguel had to show was honestly a talent.
"This is the cafeteria! We have a large selection of goods here,"
Miguel could hear Lyla's voice from one of this monitors. Honestly, that woman was good at testing Miguel.
"Whoa, h-how much do we have....to pay for this?"
Groaning softly as Miguel sat at his desk, he took a sip of his vodka. Your soft voice now echoed from the monitor. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched the two of you walk around. Lyla must have set this up, normally Miguel only watched certain interviews.
"I've been meaning to ask, what's in the little box you've been carrying?" Lyla asked you.
"A-Ah....Um...I-I wanted to say thank you to...Miguel for helping me out. Is...Is it too much? I thought....I usually bake as a thank you," Your voice was getting lower as you started to cover your face.
"Hehe," Lyla looked directly at the camera, "I'm sure he will love it."
Miguel grunted in response as he drank the rest of his liquor. Lyla was abusing the fact that you didn't know that he was the CEO. Miguel couldn't wait until you did find out. How shocked would you get? How red would those cheeks turn?
Clicking his tongue at his thoughts, Miguel decided to meet with you. After all, it would be rude for you to be waiting much longer. You had a cake to give him.
How cute.
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Lyla was currently showing you some of the labs. There were a lot of floors that you weren't going to be anywhere near, but Lyla said it was good to know where everything was. Honestly, Alchemax was even more impressive than you thought.
Arriving at the next floor, you gasped softly as you made eye contact with Miguel once the doors open.
"Oh, Miguel, funny to find you on the relaxing floor," Lyla said with a grin.
"I don't find it strange at all," Miguel huffed and smiled towards you, "Ah, (Y/n), right?"
"Y-Yes!" You squeaked and lowered your head, "Um...I..."
Your heart was racing. This was weird. So very, very weird. Maybe you shouldn't have baked him a cake. Maybe just a thank you card was enough? You couldn't find the courage to give him the baked good. It was too embarrassing.
"Awe!" Lyla cooed and pulled Miguel inside the elevator, "Why don't I show (Y/n) where she will be working! Miguel, come with us."
"Sure," Miguel grunted lowly.
"Ah, here!" You nervously handed Miguel the cake, avoiding his gaze, "I....I wanted to say...thank you for...for helping me with the interview! S-So, thank you!"
"You didn't have too," Miguel smiled as he took the small box, "But thank you."
Finally raising your head, you felt your cheeks burn as Miguel smiled towards you. There were butterflies in your stomach as you watched him. Miguel was so kind and handsome. You hoped that you could see him often here.
"Huh? You can smile?" Lyla mocked Miguel, causing him to grunt.
"When is your vacation again?"
It was fascinating watching the two bicker. That sweet and kind Miguel was grumbling towards Lyla. As if they had been friends for quite some time. It made you feel even better about working here.
"Here is our floor! C'mon (Y/n), let's leave the brute to himself," Lyla chuckled, grabbing your hand.
"W-Wait...Isn't this the top floor-"
"Hm? Oh, yes, you were hired to be my replacement while I'm away on vacation. You're going to be the CEO's secretary." Lyla said casually.
Your eyes widen in shock. You wanted to question Lyla, but honestly, thinking about your interview, it made sense. Lyla just smiled as she showed you her office, wanting to get you comfortable.
"S-So...I'll be working...with the CEO?" You asked softly, taking a seat on her couch, "Um...How are they?"
"Ugh, so annoying. Always uptight, always cranky, never laughs or smiles. Honestly, this change will be good for all of us. I'm sure you can get that grunting brute to loosen up. The job is pretty easy itself as you've seen during your interview."
"Mhm, will there be...anything else I have to do?"
"Not much, but I'll go over all that with more details tomorrow. Why don't we work on your schedule as of right now?"
"Okay,"
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Miguel waited for you to enter Lyla's office before he could enter his. He took a seat at his desk and pulled out a fork as he undid the box you gave him. Miguel raised a brow at the cake before him, it was small and a little sloppy, but the effort was there.
Taking a bite of the cake, Miguel winced at the salty taste. You did admit that you were clumsy. Swallowing, Miguel went to grab a water before seeing a small note in the box.
"If it is too salty, I'm so sorry. There is a small packet of tea that goes well with salty items...just in case." Miguel read aloud.
Finding the tea packet, Miguel scoffed softly as he got himself a glass of hot water. You were well prepared. Miguel seemed to recall you saying that you only got clumsy when nervous. Were your nerves getting to you about the job?
"Well, can't have that now," Miguel hummed, drinking the tea, "I quite like (Y/n). She'd make a fine edition to the team."
"This is the big bad CEO's office," Lyla said from outside Miguel's doors.
Miguel just smiled as he imagined you on the other side. Lyla was making him to be oh so scary. Appraoching the door, Miguel kept a calm composure as he decided to open the doors.
"Stop scaring the new girl," Miguel hummed. He watched as your eyes widen,
"Huh? Miguel? Y-You're...You're the C-CEO?"
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Next Chapter
@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla @byjessicalotufo @pigeonmama @k3ythesapphic @acesangels @stealingyourturts @angel-xx-1 @amberbalcom14 @flaps200 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen
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lokideservesahug · 4 hours
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Acceptable "Infidelity"
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Pairing: Mark Webber x fem!reader
Warnings: Mentions of cheating (there is none, it's a big misunderstanding)
Notes: No one asked for this bi I hope you enjoy it regardless. Also with all the Pinterest diving I did for this, I have a massive urge to write for Jenson Button but no idea what do if anyone has any requests, please send them my way.
Summary: The 2024 Australian GP, the day of an incredible race, insane results and Mark Webber cheating on his wife?
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Yourusername
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Yourusername: What a great Ausgp this year and I can not tell you how great it is to be back 🤍
Liked by aussiegrit, oscarpiastri and 343,897 others
See all 4,875 comments
User1: I'm so curious as to whether she saw the twitter threads or not because Mark is here not once but TWICE....
↳User2: You are freaking grilboss job photos... plus Mark
Aussiegrit: Great to see you back in the paddock.
↳Yourusername: And it was lovely to see you again Mark🤍
↳User3: Awwww... now kiss
↳User4: Woahman they're both married that's a bit wierd (frfr pls)
User5: I know Y/N read that twitter thread and then giggled with all the chaos she made with this photo
Liked by yourusername
User6: Aus GP photo dump but without Oscar!!! OUTRAGEOUS!
↳Yourusername: Sorry😔 But at lesst there is one Aussie!
↳User7: Y/N only had room for one Australian and it had to be her fav.
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Aussiegrit
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Aussiegrit: This isn't the way we wanted the world to find out but with the ever invasive paparazzi, I am finally able to show the love of my life off.
Liked by yourusername, Oscarpiastri and 2,897,543 others
View all 35,986 comments
User1: I KNEW IT!!!! I AM SOBBING RN MY BIGGEST SHIP (FOR THE PAST 6 YEARS IS AFLOAT)
↳ Yourusername: We've been married for 7 actually :)
↳User2: Have I just died and ascended into heaven? What is this that I'm hearing?
Yourusername: Love you, the love of MY life 🤍
↳Aussiegrit: Love you more🖤
↳Yourusername: Not possibleeee
↳Aussiegrit: It is because I said so (also when are you coming home?)
↳Yourusername: It doesn't work like that (half an hour, I've just need to finish one last thing and then I'm yours)
↳Aussiegrit; Yes I does (I can't wait to see you. Love you, more than you'll ever love me)
↳Yourusername: No🤍 (And no🤍 but see you soon)
User3: I'm I'm happy for them (I'm crying my eyes out)
User4: The white and black hearts omddd. Its like they complete each other!
Liked by yourusername, Aussiegrit
User5: I want what they have pls🙏
↳User6: Fr. I also want their secret jeering skills because 7 years if marriage and however long of dating being a secret is so impressive
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Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!
As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!
Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @minkyungseokie
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bitethedevil · 2 days
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The Devil's Dinner Party (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 2
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Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 (Finished)
Warning: Slight smut (just a tiny bit).
Summary: Tav accepts Raphael’s invitation to a dinner party after she had handed him the Crown of Karsus. None of her companions show up, so it is just her, Raphael, and a bunch of Raphael’s favored clients. Raphael is suspiciously kind to her, but everything might not be as perfect as it seems.
(AN: Chapter 2 of my not super edited Raphael x Tav. The first chapter is linked above. Raphael is being possessive and does an A+ job as appearing as the perfect gentleman)
A couple of the guests swarmed around Raphael when they had come back from the archive. Tav saw the opportunity to slip away. She sat herself down in a quiet corner of the room. A servant brought her a drink, which she happily accepted.
“There you areee!” Rolim beamed at her when he spotted her.
She smiled politely back at the handsome half-elf. It seemed that he might have had one drink too many, with the way that he swayed when he approached her.
“I was worried that you had gotten lost somewhere,” he said. “I almost ventured out to find you!”
“Just needed some air,” Tav said and sipped her drink. “I’m afraid that I’m not too good with this many new people at once. It can get a bit overwhelming. All the noise, and the…constant talking.”
“Oh, I know just what you mean…” Rolim said, completely missing the hint. He sat down beside her.
He crossed his legs and smiled brightly at her before starting to talk her ear off again, just as he had done while they were eating. She caught his gaze running up and down her form every now and again while they were talking. The alcohol had made him considerably less shy about his interest than earlier. Had he not been Raphael’s client, she might have flirted back. He might not be the most intelligent man she had ever met, but his overly cheerful demeanor and good looks were certainly attractive to her. Especially after a couple of drinks.
“Can I say something?” Rolim asked after they had been talking for a while.
Tav tried not to laugh at the request, because the man had been ‘saying something’ non-stop for about half an hour now.
“Sure,” she said.
“Do you promise that you won’t get offended, if I say the thing that I want to say?” he asked with an almost innocent expression.
“Well, what do you want to say?” she said with an amused smile.
He looked at her with a shy look on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. He took a sip of his drink. Then he took a deep breath and opened his mouth to say something again.
“I think you are very pretty,” he confessed. “And I am obviously not just saying that because of your reputation and all of that. You are very pretty.”
“Thank you, Rolim,” she said with a genuine smile and a slight blush. “That’s very sweet of you to say.”
“You are very welcome,” Rolim mumbled with a shy smile and took a sip of his drink.
They kept talking. She suddenly noticed Rolim’s eyes widen ever so slightly as he watched something behind her.
“Raphael,” Rolim greeted with a smile that was a bit more forced than the one he had been wearing with her all night.
She looked over her shoulder to see Raphael leisurely walking over to them.
“Rolim,” he greeted back smoothly as he sat down on the other side of Tav. Raphael placed his arm behind Tav on the backrest of the sofa. “Your business is still flourishing, I presume?”
“Yes, yes…” Rolim answered, with a tinge of nervousness in his voice. “Wonderfully, actually. Thanks to you, of course.”
“How wonderful to hear,” Raphael said with a smile that did not reach his eyes.
“I was actually thinking of expanding the business to other cities soon,” Rolim said slowly regaining his cheerful tone. “Tav and I actually talked about Baldur’s Gate as an option just earlier tonight.”
“Oh, did you now?” Raphael said and looked at her while he moved his arm away from the backrest, so it fully held around her shoulders. He caressed her shoulder gently with his thumb, as he looked back at Rolim with a cruel smile.
“In my humble opinion, I think it would be wiser if you considered somewhere a little closer to home. It is tempting to become impulsive and arrogant when you have tasted success once but be careful that you are not biting over more than you can chew, my friend...There is something to be said for backing off while the going is good and to be grateful for what one still has…”
Tav’s eyes widened at Raphael’s possessive touch and the darker hidden meaning under his words, but she did not make a move to stop it. If anything, his possessiveness did things to her that she would never admit to anyone. It was a blatant threat, that even someone like Rolim could understand.
“Quite right…” Rolim muttered quietly as he went slightly pale. “I’m…going to go get a drink.”
Rolim gave the both of them a forced polite smile and left them. Tav looked at Raphael who was still sitting all too close to her with his arm around her. He smiled at her.
“That wasn’t very nice…” she said.
“Whatever do you mean?” Raphael asked with mock innocence.
“You know what I mean,” she said and glanced to the hand that was still on her shoulder. “What are you up to?”
 “Don’t tell me that you were enjoying the attentions of that drooling whelp?” Raphael said with a huff. “He may be pretty, but he is possibly the least intelligent client I’ve dealt with in this century.”
“Why did you invite him then?” she asked.
“I find his foolishness somewhat endearing,” he answered with a shrug. “Besides, he did grant me a rather easy and highly profitable deal.”
“Ah, right,” she said and nodded. “And that’s all we ‘mortals’ are good for, isn’t it? To line your pockets with souls and gods know what else.”
“Some of you, yes,” Raphael said with an amused expression. “But that’s not how I view our relationship, of course.”
“Of course not,” Tav agreed sarcastically. “Because I’m your ‘favorite’, right? I’m sure we would still have been the best of friends even if I hadn’t dropped a very powerful artifact into your lap.”
“But you did,” Raphael countered. “For which I am endlessly grateful. And you are still my favorite.”
Tav noticed that Raphael was watching something across the room. Her eyes followed his gaze and saw Rolim quickly avert his eyes away from them.
“He quite taken with you,” Raphael noted with a hint of a sneer. “No doubt he has been filling your ears with his endless boasting all evening.”
“I don’t know if I would even call it that,” she said. “He just seemed happy about the way his life was going. It wasn’t even done in any arrogant way. Not intentionally at least.”
“That is because he was trying to entice you,” Raphael said. “I can promise you that he is a bumbling idiot when he is not trying to impress a beautiful woman such as yourself.”
“Beautiful, am I?” Tav teased. The drinks were getting to her.
“Very,” Raphael purred with a smirk.
“Well,” she said with a shrug. “I thought he seemed nice at least.”
Raphael hummed and brushed some of her hair over her shoulder.
“We did establish earlier that you do have a rather annoying tendency to choose people who don’t deserve you,” Raphael said and gave her a look that could only be interpreted as flirtatious.  
She swallowed hard and her heart sped up slightly. Her sense of self-preservation that would have told her that this seemed dangerous, was quieted by the alcohol.
“And who do you think deserves me then?” she asked boldly.
“A very good question, indeed. One that I will have to think about…” he mused dramatically. “Although, it is so very difficult to think in here with all the noise. Perhaps if we went somewhere quieter…”
Raphael got up and Tav followed, even though she could hear the faint alarm-bells ringing in the back of her mind.
Raphael snapped his fingers before opening the door to the balcony for her.
Tav’s jaw dropped. It was dark when she stepped out on the balcony. A thousand stars brightened up the sky over the hellish landscape. The sight was bizarre but also stunningly beautiful.
“But…” she said with a look of awe on her face. “That…that doesn’t make sense…? It’s never dark in Avernus, is it?”
“It’s an illusion, my dear,” Raphael said and leaned on the railing beside her. “You are quite right. It never is dark in Avernus. Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful…” she said, her mouth still agape. “Why did you…?”
“For you,” Raphael said. “I understand that the lack of night and day must be quite disorienting when you are not used to it.”
While she was still staring at the sky, she felt arms snaking around her waist from behind her. Her breath hitched.
“There is also a certain sense of intimacy and excitement that can only be found in the darkness of night,” he purred in her ear. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
He placed slow, gentle kisses on her shoulder, trailing up to her neck. Her breathing became even shallower. Her body and the alarm-bells in her head were in complete disagreement about they wanted to do.
“Raphael…” she murmured.
“Yes, my dear?” he whispered against her ear. “Do you want me to stop?”
She turned around to look up at him. His arms were still around her.
“You are up to something…” she said in a quiet voice.
Raphael brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
“Is it truly such an unbelievable concept that I simply find you desirable?” he asked, briefly glancing at her lips.
Tav could not help but glance at his lips as well. Alarm-bells be damned. She desired him too.
Raphael smirked as if he had read her mind and leaned in to kiss her. The kiss was soft and intimate. She could taste tobacco and wine on his lips. It was intoxicating. The whole thing was ridiculously romantic, and it had not been what Tav might have expected from a devil.
When they finally broke the kiss, she noticed that Raphael’s breathing had gotten a heavier as well. His brown eyes were dark with desire as he looked at her.
“I wouldn’t want to be presumptuous, but the hour is getting late, sweet mouse,” he said in a low voice. “Would you like to stay here for the night?”
She could only nod. Raphael smiled and kissed her again. This time more passionately. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His grip around her waist tightened, as his tongue started exploring her mouth.
She could feel his hardness pressing up against her abdomen. She let one hand slide down his chest and towards his pants. Raphael knew what she was doing immediately. He bit her lip playfully but firmly and caught her exploring hand with his own.
“Patience, my dear,” he purred against her lips with a smirk.
Tav got the hint: he was in control. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck again, as he continued to kiss her. His hands roamed her body, though never in any sexual manner, despite the passion in his kiss. He was being a gentleman with her.
When he released the kiss, he placed brief and gentle kisses on both her cheeks and then one on her forehead before resting his head against hers. A gesture so sweet that it made Tav melt completely.
“I knew you were special from the moment we met, you know,” Raphael said, while brushing his fingers gently through her hair. “Such a brave and confident little thing…until you discovered my true nature, of course. However, you still recovered rather quickly, much to my frustration at the time.”
“Well, you weren’t the first devil we had encountered that week,” Tav said with a smile. “You were, however, the first to invite us to your house and offer us supper.”
“Mm,” Raphael hummed and placed a kiss on her neck. “So, I was not your first devil. Would you however say that I am your favorite?”
He placed another kiss further up on her neck.
“To be fair, the bar is on the floor…” she teased, her voice had gotten breathy again at his kisses.
He bit her earlobe.
“A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed,” he whispered in her ear, and tightened his grip around her waist. “We might have to work on those manners of yours.”
His endless teasing was getting to her. Especially when she could feel just how hard he was through the fabric of their clothes. It was killing her.
She was getting impatient, so this time she took the initiative. She leaned up to kiss him. When he returned the kiss, it was slightly hungrier than before. She bit his lip and pressed her hips against his, which earned her a grunt from him. When they broke the kiss, he looked down at her with blazing desire in his eyes. He seemed done with the waiting as well and lead her inside with an arm around her waist.
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writing-for-life · 1 day
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WHAT DO YOU MEAN DREAM'S HAIR USED TO BE WHITE!! oh my god. i just saw your post about killala and i have now perished. thanks for breaking my heart.
but also hi!! i'm relatively new to the fandom and it's a great place to be. i haven't finished reading all the comics yet but i'm curious to know:
what do you think are the main differences between TV!Dream and Comics!Dream? i've heard so many people claiming that he is incapable of changing, for instance, and though the show does convey his overall rigidity pretty well, i'm not getting the vibe that he's immutable.
also!! it's clear that he feels a lot. which is always funny to me when the corinthian is like yo, try this and maybe you'll feel something for a change but like. he does!!! or i get the impression that he does. he probably feels too much if anything?? all of it simmering just beneath the surface, barely contained. how would you personally analyze his relationship with his own emotions?
i hope all of this is coherent enough for you to answer lmao, i saw your post about enjoying being asked sandman questions two seconds after i woke up and barged into your inbox. hope you have a lovely day!
Thanks so much for the ask, and welcome if you’re new(ish) to the fandom! 🤗
I’m sorry I broke your heart—much more heartbreak to come I fear if you haven’t read the comics yet, so I’ll try to keep this as spoiler-free as possible.
I am one of those people who believes the differences between comics!Dream and show!Dream are actually not as big as they are made out to be where it matters, and you will definitely find people who disagree. At the end of the day, we all read it through our own lens and will never be fully objective about it.
The main difference I see is that they filed off the rough edges of the comics a bit to make a new audience sympathise more. It’s very hard to do that with a character who is basically in full arsehole mode for most of the first 40 issues or so, and even then only slowly begins to come out of it (although we can obviously see glimmers of what lies below the surface at the beginning of the comics, too, but it’s far more subtle than in the show). I’ve worked in musical theatre for a over decade of my life and understand a bit about bringing the written word to stage/screen, and some things simply don’t translate well from book to stage/screen, and you have to change it. So my personal opinion is we get a more sympathetic Morpheus and certain changes so the audience can do exactly that—sympathise off the bat. You will lose an audience pretty quickly if they don’t care about the protagonist and the universe he moves in, and you can’t be as nuanced about it as you can be in a written work. We’re talking about streaming services thinking about profits here, even if people don’t want to hear it.
Also: The more you sympathise with a character, the deeper the emotional investment and the more you feel, even if it hurts.
Having said this, I don’t think Morpheus is incapable of change, and I never got where that idea comes from. His biggest flaw is that he believes he cannot change (and even he has moments when he admits he might have). In the introduction to Endless Nights, Neil Gaiman says that he was once asked to describe The Sandman in twenty-five words or less, and famously, it was this (you might have heard it):
“The Lord of Dreams learns that one must change or die, and makes his decision.”
And I think some people might have wrongly taken that for an either/or thing. I don’t want to say too much at this point because I don’t know how much you know (if you’d like spoilers or already know how it ends, let me know, I’ll happily expand on it). Only so much:
He is capable of change, also in the comics. Very obviously so. But just like he denies he has his own story (which also isn’t true), he denies he can change. Or at least he thinks he perhaps cannot change enough (it’s actually hard to write about this without giving everything away, help! 🙈).
As for his feelings: He does feel, but again, it is something he pushes down and will deny himself. Until it bursts to the surface and breaks through, and when that happens, it’s usually with, well, let’s say varying results, and that’s putting it mildly. Personally, I’d say he has problems relating to his feelings, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel. Quite the opposite in my view. He holds the collective unconscious—all unprocessed feelings and whatever else floats around in that collective mess, and it’s exactly what he says to the Corinthian in that famous scene: he needs to keep a lid on it and keep that lid firmly closed so all of it doesn’t consume him. But that also means denying himself the feelings that are linked to his own personhood (if you want to call it that). There’s Dream of the Endless, and then there’s Morpheus. And while they’re one and the same and inseparable, Morpheus is also the “point of view”. The character, the person, if you will. And deep down, he craves that personhood so badly. Out of all the Endless, he is the only one who basically collects names because they mean having something beyond his function, which is also mirrored in what he tells Death in “The Sound of her Wings”: he wants something more. He is the only one whose realm is populated with sentient beings (yes, I know Despair has rats, but I think you get my drift). He is desperately lonely and struggles with it. He seeks connection yet denies it to himself. That’s not someone who doesn’t feel.
I don’t know if this answers your questions at all—I was doing the wild “spoiler-free” dance 🤣 But please let me know if you want me to go a bit deeper, I love talking about this stuff.
You can also have a look at my metas if you haven’t already. The headers pretty much explain what they’re about and what spoiler-level to expect, but none of them are truly spoiler-free I guess:
Again, thanks so much for encroaching on my inbox, and feel free to follow up if anything was left unanswered.
@dreamaturgy ask answered
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♡ ι'νє вєєη ¢σηƒυѕє∂ αѕ σƒ ℓαтє, ωαт¢нιηg му уσυтн ѕℓιρ αωαу ~
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`♡~° ꜱʏᴘɴᴏꜱɪꜱ : ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ꜰᴀᴅᴇꜱ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʏᴏᴜᴛʜ.
ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɴᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ. ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ: ɢᴇᴛᴏ ꜱᴜɢᴜʀᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
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/ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵐʸ ᵐᵘˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ./
"Hey!"
You looked behind to see gojo frantically waving at you from the ocean.
"Join us he-"
Before he could finish whatever he was about to say he got splashed with a bucket of water by Riko.
"WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET THE BUCKET FROM!?" Gojo yelled as he started to chase Riko in the ocean. You saw Suguru get out of the ocean and walk towards you.
"Care to join us?" He said with that boyish handsome smile of his.
"No, I think I'll pass for now."
"Why."
You gave him a bashful smile. "I need to really take in this scene of you guys playing in the water so that I can draw it...that way I'll never forget this moment". Some unrecognisable emotions flash across Suguru's eyes. Suddenly he grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the ocean.
"W-wait, what are you doing, Suguru?"
"To draw a moment with the utmost accuracy...you need to experience it yourself beforehand." With that he pushed you into the ocean.
Safe to say you had one of the most fun in your life splashing water around with the three of them.
/ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵈᵃʳᵏ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ/
The sound of somewhat loud knocks filled the empty hallways of jujutsu high. You were on the verge of breaking down Suguru's rooms door.
"Geto Suguru open the damn door!"
Suddenly the door swung opened and the sight of a very sleep deprived Suguru welcomed you. He was trying to smile but you could see that it wasn't real
"Yes, (name)? A little bit more and you could have broken the do-" You didn't let him finish his sentence as you hugged him tightly. You could hear him gulp harshly.
"What happened-" You shushed him with your finger.
"I know what you're feeling dumbass but that doesn't mean you're going to give up over 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 incident. We've all been traumatised but that doesn't mean we can't get better damn it!" You were almost crying at this point. Suguru said nothing and hugged you back. You felt something wet touching your hair. It was obvious that he was crying. He was finally letting himself loose.
That night you both comforted each other by embracing and facing your fears and trauma .
/ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ, ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒ/
"Satoru!" You called gojo from afar. Seems like he was training. Both of them haven't been the same as before. Suguru looked more and more tired each day. Satoru was overworking himself.
It's not like you were any better. Blaming yourself because of what happened in that godforsaken day. You were on the verge of going insane but kept it together. Shoko could do nothing but watch as her friends die a little by little.
"Yes, do you need anything (name)?" He asked as he stops training.
"Do you know where Suguru is? I can't seem to find him these days." You asked him with a worried tone attached to your voice.
"From what I know he has been going on a lot's of solo missions right now. I think he had a mission in a village today in particular." He explained thoroughly. From what it seems like, Suguru is avoiding you. You were confused but nodded and thanked him. You quickly left Satoru because it seemed like he was busy.
It's final, when he comes back today you'll confront him.
But he never came back.
/ᴵ'ᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰ�� ʳᵘⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ/
You don't remember the last time you got out of your room. That conversation still haunts you. You just hope and wish to the gods above that this is just a really crazy fever dream and that never happened. But let's be honest, you lost faith in Gods.
"He killed 112 villagers along with his parents to save two girls." Yaga states.
"What?" You asked quietly.
"In the reports of the incident, 112 villagers were killed by a cursed-"
"I HEARD YOU THE LAST TIME DIDN'T I!?" You screamed at his face.
"It's been proved-" You once again interrupted him.
"LIKE HELL HE DID? DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT? HOW CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? HE'S YOUR FUCKING STUDENT!" You were fuming with and anger but mostly disappointment. You were gripping your hand so hard that blood was dripping. There is no way the Suguru you know would do this...right?
"He has been sentenced to death (name)..."
You didn't say anything after that. You just left.
You tried to call him, text him, hell you even searched for him. Still no clue of him. At the end you just isolated yourself in your dorm room.
You had nothing to do
/ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵒᵒ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘᵐᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐʸ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᶠᵉ/
"I thought star religious group already ended?" Suguru said while walking towards the stage wearing a kimono.
"It's a different group but the roots are the same, are you really going while dressed like this?"
"What? I need to make an impression." Suguru replied nonchalantly.
"Geto-sama!" Two children called out to him. He patted their heads and went to the stage.
"Hello everyone I apologise for the wait. So from now on please be sure to follow me."Many objected.
"Hmmm, now that's not good is it....yes! You right there." He pointed at a old man. His head got crushed. Blood splattered everywhere. Some even got on his face.
"Now let's try this again....You obey me now."
'I hate monkeys.
This is the path that I chose for myself.
The path to creating the perfect world.
A world where only jujutsu sorcerers are allowed to exist.
A world where ̷W̷̷e̷ can live in peace.
₥Ɇ ₳₦Đ ⱧɆⱤ'
He was lost in his thoughts when suddenly those two children surrounded him. He smiled and bent down to their level.
₩₳ł₮ ₣ØⱤ ₥Ɇ ₥Ɏ ⱠØVɆ.
/ᴬʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗᵒᵒ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰⁱˢ?/
You were running like your life depended on it. Well it did.
"(Name) Suguru is here."You dropped everything you were doing after Shoko called you stating Suguru is near.
You needed so many answers from him.Why?Running through the crowd, bumping into. some people. Even though they cursed at you, you had no time to say anything or apologise.
You see him.
"Suguru!" You shouted. He looked behind to see you panting.
"Oh hey (Name)." He gave you a soft smile.
"Explain." You glared at him.
"Didn't Shoko tell you?" He fully turned around this time.
"So you're just going to kill everyone who's not a sorcerer!? I thought we wouldn't kill unless it had a point!?" You shouted.
"There is a point. A reason." He states calmly.
"That's bullshit Suguru! Killing everyone just to create a world for jujutsu sorcerers. That's beyond impossible!" You shouted again.
"How arrogant of you." He said calmly. His voice devoid of any emotion and at the same time it sounded like he had no regrets or feelings about what he had done.
"But....what about you and Satoru? If you guys wanted....together we could do it, couldn't we?" His words sent chills down your spine.
"After all, we were the strongest trio...weren't we?" You did not like the way he said that.
"I have decided how I want to live my life (name), what I want to devote myself in. Now it's a matter of doing my best to achieve my goals." He started walking the opposite way after saying that.
You couldn't just watch him leave like that.
You had to do something right?
So why was your hands shaking as you tried to activate your cursed technique?
"If you want to kill me here, do it I won't stop you. There is a point in killing me." He repeated your words.
You were hyperventilating. You need to do something anything.
Anything please.
You couldn't do anything at the end.
/ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ/
You could feel all that all too familiar cursed energy.
"Damn it! Gather every jujutsu sorcerer available here right now!" You followed the command. You were numb at this point. You stopped smiling long ago. You are just a living machine who followed commands.
Then why did your heart started to beat a little faster when you felt him around?
Gojo dealt with the situation way better than you though. But that doesn't mean his way of coping was good. Drowning himself in practice. You both were just as broken as the other. Both you and gojo ran to your students. There stood Geto. All in his glory, holding Yuuta's hands.
"Get your hands off of my students Suguru." Gojo calmly says. You just stood behind Satoru with your stotic expression.
"Oh Satoru and (name)! Long time no see!" He waved at both of you.
It never failed to flutter your heart when he waved and smiled like that.
Even if it's broken.
"Step away from the students Geto Suguru." Your voice was devoid of any emotion. It made Suguru's heart ache but he said nothing. He just smirked.
"I heard your new first year students are amazing. Never failed to find true talent huh? But oh....what is the Zenin clans failure doing here?" He mocked Maki.
"You bastard!" Maki pointed her weapon at him.
"Watch your words. I don't need any monkeys like you in my world." Suguru glared harshly at Maki.
"You watch your own mouth Suguru. I will not tolerate any insults towards my students." You threatened Suguru. It hurt your heart to talk to him like this but you had no choice.
"My apologies (name), It wasn't my intention to make you angry." He scratched his neck sheepishly.
"Then what exactly did you come for, Suguru?" Satoru was now in front of Suguru.
"To declare war." He states seriously.
"Everyone here, Listen up closely, On the upcoming December 24th when the sun sets, We shall conduct the night parade of a hundred demons. It will take place in the crucible of curses, Shinjuku and the sacred land of jujutsu Kyoto. We will unleash a thousand curses upon each place.
And of course they're only intention would be 'massacre'.
If you wish to stop this scene straight out of hell. Come and stop it with all your might.
Let us freely curse each other to our hearts content!" He smiled.
Except it wasn't the soft and handsome smile you were so used to once. His smile right now contained nothing but malice. Everyone was silent.
"Ahhhh Geto-sama!!! The store will close!" A young teen suddenly shouted.
"Oh it's already that late? Sorry Satoru and (name). The girls insist to eat some crepes." He started to leave.
"Hurryyyyy!" That same girl shouted again.
"Did you think you'd be able to leave so easily?" You said getting in Suguru's way.
"Oh well, I doubt you'd want to do that. The precious students that you both care so much about are all within my range." Numerous types of curses surrounded the first years.
"Well, see you all on the battlefield!" He left once again.
You were frozen on your feet like all those times. You couldn't move.
You had failed to do anything once again.
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A/N: so uhhh this is my first time writing a one-shot and it's kinda unfinished. If this is well received I might make pt.2 idk. SO NERVOUS ABT THIS RAHHHH.
Do not repost or copy without my permission. Please reblog to support me. Thank you for reading ♡~
Dividers used from @cafekitsune and @rookthornesartistry ♡
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sentientcave · 3 hours
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It's wip wednesday once again. Have a little more Rugby! Just a short segment bc I'm actually getting close to finishing it and posting the whole thing. Sorry it's mostly dialogue a lot of the other stuff gets added in the editing stages lmao
We join Ripper at his office job... (Your welcome to anyone who thinks Ripper would look hot in a suit. Because he absolutely would)
You're eyeing the clock as it crawls just past 4:15, when someone knocks on your office door. "Come in," you call, reopening exel on your computer so it at least looks like you're doing something productive.
"Hey, pally," Brandon says cheerfully, throwing your door open and sitting in the chair in front of your desk. "How's things?"
A social visit? Brandon is the boss's nephew, and a right idiot. You steer clear, generally, and he's mostly left you alone thus far. "Uh. Fine. Headed out soon."
"Rugby on Friday," he says.
You frown at him. Why would he know that? "Uh. Yeah?"
His grin widens. "Your team's playin' mine. Think you've got a chance?"
You think of Simon and Johnny, and the way they can plow through the opposing team. You didn't even know Brandon played. "Uh. Yeah. Figure we do."
"Care to make it interesting?"
A bet? Is that what he interrupted your day for? "Guess I'd put a tenner on it."
He shakes his head, like you’re being ridiculous. "That wouldn't be very interesting, would it?"
He's angling for something, but it's hard to tell what, exactly. "You have stakes in mind?"
"I do. Figure if my team wins, you'll let me take you out for dinner. If yours does, we can, I dunno, switch offices? Two windows in mine. Your little houseplants might like that." He wiggles his fingers at the plants you have hanging in and sitting in front of the window (Spiderplant Georg, Pontius Pilea, and Monstera Mash. Not that you had ever told anyone in the office that you’d named them).
"Dinner?" You ask. "With you?" It's an insane notion. You barely speak to him. You don't want to speak to him.
"Course with me." He grins at you again, propping his feet up on your desk, leaning back in his chair.
You blink at him. "You're kidding."
"What, you don't think I haven't noticed the way you fill out that suit? You're a little unit, Ripley. Wouldn't mind seeing you outside the office now and again."
"I've got a boyfriend," you say automatically. "It wouldn't be anything more than just dinner."
"We'll see."
You hate him for the way he smiles at you, like he doesn't believe you for a second. You're going to have to ask yet another favour, and see if Johnny or Simon will pretend to be your boyfriend. "Well, I'll take the bet. Wouldn't mind two windows."
He sets his feet down and sticks his hand across the desk. "Can't wait to take you out. We'll have fun."
You stand up to shake his hand, glancing at the clock again. Time to go, thank fucking god. “You’re gonna lose, you know. And even if you don’t, there’s no way Simon won’t sit across the restaurant and glare at you the whole time we have dinner.” Internally, you kick yourself for saying Simon. Johnny’s the more obvious choice, and easier to approach for a favour like that too.
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todayisafridaynight · 10 months
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streaming comic-makin sessions would be a nightmare cause i know damn well id just be digitally pacing between twitter and youtube before actually doin shit. it'd be like trying to host a writing stream where everyone would look at a blank canvas for half an hour as i try to figure out what the fuck im gonna do
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httpdwaekki · 29 days
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sleepy cramps | b.c.
summary: your cramps wake you up but channie is there to help.
wc: 1.1k
warnings: i tried to keep it gender neutral, however!! periods and cramps are mentions so read at your own risk.
a/n: omg ash knows how to post at a normal time when she's not sleep deprived *gasp* crazy right? you guys know the drill not proof read too many pet names blah blah. i have realized that i apparently need alot of comfort in my life because that is all i write LMAO. anyway! i hope you guys enjoy and as always, drink water, eat something, and take ur meds. <3
p.s. pls send me some requests i really wanna try and branch out but i have no ideas, okay love u bye. <3
my library
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(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)
“baby?” you hear a familiar aussie voice call out. “i’m home!” you hear him take off his shoes and set his bag down. “baby?” he yells once more, keys jingling as he places them on a hook by the door.
you let out a grunt, hoping to signal to him where you were. you were currently bundled up half asleep in your shared bed, facing the door. you were exhausted from the day and your period, and barely keeping your eyes open. 
the hall light flicks on before a figure appears in the doorway. you lift up your head a bit, giving him a sleepy smile before settling back into your warm cocoon of soft blankets and plushies.
he smiles before making his way to the side of bed, squatting down to eye level with you. he lifts his hand, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “hi pretty.” your cheeks warm.
“hi bub.” you mumble. “you sleepy bug?” he asks softly. you nod, a yawn escaping you as if emphasizing your drowsiness.
he smiles, leaning forward to place a soft kiss to your forehead. “alright bub, give me 10 minutes to get ready for bed then i’ll come lay down okay?” you nod once more, sleepy smile still present on your face.
he moves,  placing a kiss on your lips before standing to his full height. “i’ll be right back!” he yelled, running into your en-suite. you giggle before relaxing into your cocoon, sleep welcoming you quickly.
once chan finished in the bathroom, he came out to find you curled up, now facing his side of the bed, soft even breathes escaping you.
he coos before making his way to his side of the bed. he lifted the sheets, sliding under them before gently pulling you to him, body melting into his.
he wraps his arms around you, “good night my sleepy baby, i love you.” he whispers, placing a kiss on your temple, before relaxing, letting sleep take over.
this didn’t last long however, chan lightly awoke maybe an hour later, to you stirring in your sleep, light whimpers escaping you. after hearing the first whimpers leave your mouth, he was very alert. he quickly looks over your body trying to determine what’s bringing you distress.
he catches a glimpse of your face, which is contorted in discomfort. he places a hand on your cheek once more, trying to gently wake you. “baby wake up.” he whispers, lightly tapping and stroking your cheek.
after a few seconds you finally wake, only to let out a yelp in pain, curling into the body beside you. “hey hey, baby, what’s going on?” he said kissing your head, rubbing your back.
“period.” you managed to get out, trying to curl further into yourself. one arm wrapped around your lower abdomen, the other one clenched into a fist against your forehead.
you start holding your breath unconsciously, praying the pain will subside. chan notices and gently taking your fist in his.
“breathe baby, breathe,” he says calmly, opening your fist to slot your fingers through his. you let out a jagged breath leaning your forehead against your joined hands, “squeeze my hand if you need to jagi but, you gotta breathe baby.” his thumb stroking the back of your hand.
you take a deep breath, trying to focus on anything over than the stabbing pain in your abdomen. “doing so good bug, just breathe.”  his other hand coming up to smooth the crease between your eyebrows. 
your breathing evens out slightly as the pain lessen a bit. a moment of silence passes before you sit up, hands still entwined. chan follows you, rubbing small circles on your back. “did you take medicine earlier?” you nod your head. “right before you got home.”  he hummed, understanding.
 “i’ll be right back, okay?” he whispers, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. you nod slightly, focusing on your breathing. he leans over, placing a kiss to the side of your head before getting up and making his way into the bathroom.
you grab a pillow behind you hugging it as you wait for him to return. a few moments passed before he reemerges with your heating pad in hand. he rounds the bed, plugging in the pad before sitting next to you.
“i’m gonna move this quick, okay?” you nod, moving your arms. he grabs the pillow, placing the heating pad in it’s place. “thank you.” you mumble, leaning on him, placing your head on his shoulder. “you’re welcome bug.” he kisses the top of your head before placing his there.
you sit there for a moment before you feel the guilt slowly creep up, the lump forming in the back of your throat. you turn your head into his shoulder as tears start to stream down your face.
“hey, hey, do you want more medicine? what can i do?” he asks, placing a hand on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles. you shake your head, before moving to put your hand in your hands.
“i’m sorry channie,” you cried. “i know you’re probably exhausted, and shouldn’t have to deal with this.” you feel him move in front of you before placing his hands on your face, lifting it. “i am your boyfriend, it is my job to take care of you when you need me. and right now you’re in pain because of something you can’t control.” he pauses, looking into your eyes, gently wiping the tears running down your cheeks.
“i will always take care of you, doesn’t matter, time, place, if i’m tired or not, i will always help you. understand?” you nod, moving into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, shoving your face into his neck.
he wraps his arms around your torso pulling you impossibly closer. “i love so much, jagiya. okay?” you nod your head quickly. “i love you too, more than you know.” you say into his neck, placing a kiss on his skin. 
you both stay like that for a moment before chan pulls away slightly. he wipes your tears once more before placing a kiss on your lips. “let’s get you to sleep, hm?” you agree, moving back into the mattress.
you watch him make his way to his side, getting comfortable under the duvet. once settled, he opens his arms for you to lay down. you giggle before quickly laying on him, making sure your heating pad was still in the correct position.
you place a kiss to his jaw before settling into his chest, duvet pulled to cover both of you. “thank you, i love you so much.” he places one last kiss to your head. “ you don’t have to thank me, i love you so much, good night my sleepy baby.” you smile, feeling at peace. “goodnight, channie.” you place a kiss over his heart before both of drift off once more.
do not repost
*feedback is always appreciated as are likes/reblogs!*
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local-magpie · 1 year
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gonna be streaming Mass Effect 3 tonight at 7pm ET, I think I left off on the last Quarian story mission so we're getting close to the end (minus obligatory side questing) - if you want to either get notified when I go live OR help me reach affiliate you can follow me on Twitch here. I'm only 5 followers away so I would be very grateful sgdjdkd
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Pamper Yourself (Girls Night series) - LN
Summary: Lando is no stranger to involving himself in girls nights, especially when they're getting all the skincare and haircare stuff out, and the girls are more than happy to talk him through
Friends names: Zara, Martha and Eden
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Lando is actually at a Quadrant shoot that's finally wrapping up, slightly later that they had planned to finish up. Because he knows y/n is having a girls night and while he hadn't told her, he fully intended to crash the night with no apologies.
"What's the rush, man?" Max laughs as Lando rushes through goodbyes.
"Y/n is having a girls night." Lando grins making Max roll his eyes.
"You know, you earn the label of a bad boyfriend if you crash girls nights all the time. They don't like it." Max states earning a pause but Lando seems to consider his words for all of a split second before shrugging it off.
He definitely speeds home and when he arrives, the soft sound of music fills the apartment. Slightly overpowered by four female voice all chattering away as they speak to each other.
"Baby?!" Lando calls out making the voice quiet down before he walks in.
"I told you so! I told you he'd come in here crashing out night." Zara exclaims as y/n smiles at her boyfriend. "You know it's called girls night for a reason."
"Will you stop being a bitch? Ignore her, Lando. She's been in a bad mood all day and now she's bringing it here." Martha states then looking at y/n who just shakes her head.
"You're always more than welcome." Eden smiles as Lando picks up a headband and puts it on.
"It's a good thing he doesn't care or you might've hurt his feelings." Martha murmurs as she continues painting a face mask onto Zara's face.
Y/n smiles as Lando gets closer to her and she adjusts the headband for him.
"Why is she in such a bad mood with me?" Lando whispers making y/n laugh while Zara huffs.
"Zara got a disciplinary at work from her boss today, and her boss is a man so she's boycotting men." Eden explains simply making her look at him for a moment. "She's the only one boycotting men."
"Oh right, ok." Lando nods while y/n smiles and kisses him lightly.
"Ok, wash your face. Use the face scrub on the side too, you need to exfoliate. Then come back and pick a mask, I'll put it on for you." Y/n instructs making him move to the bathroom.
"It's pretty cute that he always wants to be involved." Martha states while he's out the room. "Does he stick on routine outside of the girls nights?"
"No. Sometimes I can force him to properly moisturise. But generally, he scrubs his face and then just lets it dry and get's on with his day. I think he considers the girls nights good enough to last him."
"Y/n, we have these nights once ever like 2 or 3 months if we can all find a day we're free. I'm going to lecture him." Zara declares earning a shared look of amusement from her friends.
"Poor Lando." Eden mumbles then looking at y/n. "You should warn him."
Y/n laughs just as Lando walks in looking fresh faced and clean as he moves to the selection of face masks.
"Can I have this one?" He asks picking up a pink clay mask.
"Yeah, of course you can." Y/n laughs before she takes it from him, then jumping up on the counter and smiling as he immediately moves to stand between her legs. "You exfoliated, right?"
"Yes. That's the uhhh...gritty stuff in a tube."
"I love the way men's brains work." Martha comments in awe of his way of describing a face scrub. "Well sometimes I do." A quick correction following a glare from Zara.
"So dramatic." Y/n mumbles earning a small smile from Lando before she starts putting the mask on for him. Neither noticing Eden capture a couple photos of the moments since she has appointed herself as the group historian, documenting everything. From the good to the bad. She's got pictures of everything. "How does the mask feel?"
"Good. Cold." Lando smiles as his hands rub on her thighs just as a means of fiddling and keeping his hands occupied while she continues to put the mask on his skin. "Are you guys ordering food?"
"Baby...we went out for dinner. Are you hungry?" Y/n questions looking a little worried from the idea that her boyfriend might be worried. "We can order food if you're hungry."
"No. I ate at work." Lando smiles shaking his head while she nods before placing the mask down. "Done?"
"Yeah, you're all done 15 minutes then wash it off-who wants to choose Lando's serums and moisturiser?" Y/n asks since she knows he actually likes when the other girls offer up their serums. The man looks at them like they're secret potions that girls gatekeeper from men.
"I'll choose." Eden smiles making Lando move over almost like a toddler.
Y/n smiles shaking her head as Zara jumps up and sits next to her.
"Would you like me to do a face mask for you? You're the only one without one." Zara smiles earning a nod and as Zara starts putting a gold peel mask on the young woman. "For the record, I'm not against Lando being here."
"I know. He knows too." Y/n laughs lightly then patting her lap. "Are you feeling a little better at least? I know we had this planned anyway, but we were all hoping the girls night might help perk you up."
"Yeah, I am. Dinner definitely helped. I think I was pretty hangry."
"I felt that on a spiritual level." Y/n hums before Zara mumbles the mask is done. "We're here for you. Even Lando."
"Yeah, definitely me." Lando confirms appear in front of them.
"Baby, don't smile. You're cracking your mask." Y/n giggles making his face straighten as he hand reaches up to his curls and she sighs. "Z...can you do his hair? You're the best at doing with curly hair and he doesn't take care of them."
"Yeah. I got him, suppose I owe you a sorry for your earlier greeting." Zara hums looking at his hair from a distance.
After Lando washes his mask off, Eden layers his face with a clarifying and vitamin c serum before following up with a moisturiser that definitely gives him a glow.
Y/n and Martha end up helping choose some serums and a moisturiser for each other before following up with putting a hair mask on each other's hair.
"You better not waste my efforts with these curls, Norris." Zara warns as she has him lean over the sink to get the deep conditioning mask she's put into his locks since apparently they'd really dried out.
"You have my word. I'll maintain it." Y/n promises earning a grin from her boyfriend. "Drags me in the shower with him all the time anyway."
"TMI." Zara groans then splashing Lando's face with water when he smirks. "Don't smirk, perv."
"Hey, be nice." Martha scolds then flicking water at Zara while she rinses Lando's hair.
"I am being nice."
"Lando, call it."
"You got soap in my eye." Lando states rubbing at his eye.
"Ok, I'm sorry. I didn't meant to do that." Zara laughs then patting his shoulder before she finishes washing his hair. "Sit up."
Zara finishes laying products on his hair before drying it for him and admittedly, his curls haven't looked so good even fresh from the barber.
By the end of the night, every single one of them are transformed to an extent. But of course when Eden captures a video showing everyone's finished look, y/n and Lando are too caught up in each other's attention and when Lando reposts it on his story, it's safe to say fans go pretty feral over the knowledge he gets involved in girls nights.
"Good thing there was no give away of Zara's disapproval otherwise she'd be getting feasted on by your fans." Martha jokes earning a middle finger from the grumpy girl.
"Just wait till you guys have guys to bring to girls night. We'll have to stop calling it girls night." Y/n laughs while Lando pulls her up onto his lap rather than squished up beside him.
"No. Nuh-uh. We'll have a room to push them all into, they can babysit each other." Zara states earning a sharp look from Lando. "Hey, what you looking at me like that for?"
"I'm not being kicked out of girls night just because you lot finally get into relationships." Lando declares making y/n almost choke on her spit since she really wasn't expecting him to be so offended by the idea of not being able to take part in the girls night anymore.
"Could just have a group date night?" Eden suggests earning murmurs of agreement to that plan. "And the non-pampering girls nights remain as no boys allowed. Since Lando doesn't join in for those anyway."
"All in favour say aye." Martha nods making them all say aye, even Zara.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @thehufflepuffavenger1
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onlyswan · 1 month
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summary: in which the sweet ache of yearning metamorphoses into the art of intimacy and knowing.
idol!jk x reader, est. relationship / fluffy fluff, a dash of angst, explicit content (minors dni!!) / word count: 10.5k
warnings/content: divided into seven parts. it’s like a timeline hehe <3 ; mainly in jk’s pov!! ; underaged drinking (oc is 18 in that part but the legal age of drinking in sk is 19 so!) ; mention of almost? n*des (neither sent by our mcs) ; making out ; thigh grinding ; brief or*l (f. rec + allusions to m. rec) ; mention and allusion to s*x [yesyes it’s the first time] [oc may or may not cry a little too…] ; they have a ‘what if i die before you?’ discourse lmao
playlist! restless - bibi ; lily of the valley - daniel ; who do you love - the black skirts ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande ; snow - josh makazo
> in which masterlist!
note: look at my gorjus ethereal bf !!!! anyway… hi, i’m back ^_^ here’s my not so little offering to those who’s been missing the iw couple <3 as always i’d love to hear your thoughts :") come chat!!
I. THE FALLING
“just stay the night.” you blurt out, turning to jungkook to express your worry. “i can’t let you leave right now. it’s not safe.”
his wide eyes scan the headline of the news once more.
heavy snowfall, road accident, several injured… versus staying the night at the apartment of not quite his friend, not quite his lover, for the first time.
he can’t deny that he favors the latter over the former with an explicable feeling rendering him breathless. still, he can’t allow his enthusiasm to cloud his better judgement. he knows he’s still somewhat of a stranger to you. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome or make you feel uncomfortable in your own space.
“are you sure you’re comfortable with it?”
“sure. should i be worried?“
“no! uhm, i just thought not everyone would be comfortable to have a person they’re not very close with to sleep over.”
you chuckle, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “chill. i have bigger things to be scared of than the guy who just cried with me while watching an anime movie.”
oh… he thought you were too absorbed in wiping your own tears to notice him crying too.
he slumps back on the sofa with a sigh. “i see. i guess we’re left with no choice then.”
“i have an extra toothbrush!”
jungkook doesn’t quite understand people’s obsession with his eyes, but getting enamored by the innocence that yours seem to glisten with, he wonders if he is experiencing the same case.
“can you see if this fits you?”
you stand before him with a stack of neatly folded clothes, unraveling a pair of gray sweatpants to hold up infront of him.
“i think… there’s a string? oh, there’s none.”
he chuckles. “you forgot?”
“well, it’s not mine. my ex never came back for his clothes.“ you huff with a roll of your eyes, muttering a silent his loss into the air. “i’ve washed it though! don’t worry! it’s just- you know- sleeping in denim pants is uncomfortable.”
does that mean you still wear the clothes of your exes? this pisses him off for some unknown reason. he would much rather sleep uncomfortably than wear their clothes.
you kindly smile, pushing the black knitted sweater against his chest. “but this is mine. it’s really warm and comfortable!”
but on another note, you’re too sweet and thoughtful. how could he ever say no?
the sweatpants is a little loose around his waist. your sweater, however, feels incredibly soft against his skin. as he walks back into the living room, he pulls down his sweater paws and runs his hands across its sleeves. if he had to describe the feeling it evokes, he would say it is very much similar to rolling around on freshly washed and dried bedsheets.
“it’s nice, right?”
he whips his head around upon hearing the sound of your voice. for a quick second, you caress his arm with the back of your hand, and even with the barrier separating your skin from his, the casual touch causes his breath to hitch.
“i finished cleaning the room. i set up a comforter on the floor so you can take the bed.”
“is that so? thank you!”
he zooms past you. you’re left standing alone, blinking in confusion. he is more than happy to welcome himself into your bedroom… so he can slyly steal the bed you prepared for yourself. he slides under the covers, makes himself all cozy with his hands resting on the back of his head as if it’s not a raging winter and he’s lying under the summer sun.
“and what do we have here?”
jungkook cracks one eye open. there you are leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed. you raise your eyebrows at him, demanding an answer.
“what?” he smiles childishly. “you’re the one doing me a favor. i’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”
“how polite. suit yourself, sir.” you shake your head in amusement, smiling.
you enter the room, flicking the lightswitch off and locking the door at the speed of light. without thinking, probably; muscle memory formed by your routine. he is the only thing not a part of it. yet.
“goodnight, jungkook.”
“goodnight.”
he still sees you moving around in the dark. you crouch down beside him and he feels the extra pillow he’s partially crushing under his weight be jerked away all of a sudden.
“i need this one. sorry.” you whisper-shout apologetically. “goodnight! sweet dreams!”
jungkook sighs, tired of mindlessly scrolling through social media. his eyes flutter shut as he allows his phone to collapse on his chest. he is yet to even figure out if going to work later would be possible because of the blocked roads. he has gotten enough earful about not heading straight to the dorm and he cannot risk any more. because then, he would have to see less of you.
he sneakily opens his eyes, craning his head to the side to steal a glance of you, but he finds that you’ve already fallen asleep on your textbook and he’s unable to look away again. bathed in the warm light of the lampshade on your bedside, he has never seen you more peaceful. he learns with hard evidence that you’re a side sleeper, curled up underneath the blanket and cutely snuggled against the pillow you took from him.
he doesn’t know how long he’s been admiring you, but he knows he doesn’t want you to think of him as a creep. you stir in your sleep and his hand swiftly flies to his phone. pretending to be absorbed in reading the first tweet he comes across, he tries taking another subtle glimpse of you.
it’s as if he’s been caught and punished.
he flinches.
your textbook collides with the floor, landing only inches next to his pillow. he begins sweating. he could’ve easily gotten a concussion at best, death at worst.
he sits up with his elbows anchoring him, poking around to investigate the cause of the fall. admittedly, he’s a little sad to see your back now facing him.
“shit, what am i doing?” he roughly rubs his face to knock some sense back into him.
he needs to get some sleep. yeah, that’s it. nothing more.
he picks up your textbook, taking it upon himself to bring it over to your desk. on his way back, he also decides to to turn off the lampshade.
his finger freezes on the button, however. he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to silence the giggle that threatens to escape him— so fucking endeared to discover that you’ve kicked off your blanket and rolled over to your other side along with the pillow, your thigh carelessly slumped over it.
he tucks himself back into bed, heart feeling all warm and fuzzy.
“so, so adorable.”
the words escape him without thought; the smile on his face ever-present even as he drifts off to dreamland.
II. ALLOW ME TO LINGER BY THE DOOR
“hey, it’s getting late. shouldn’t you be heading home by now?”
you sit beside jungkook on the sofa after a phone call, and his round eyes grow twice their size when you steal the iced tea from his grasp, nonchalant as your lips wrap around the same red straw his have been only seconds ago.
he awkwardly clears his throat, perhaps to mask his loud heartbeat. “is your friend okay?”
“oh, she’ll be fine. it’s her fault so i can’t do much for her this time.” you shrug, picking up your chopsticks as you eye the last dumpling in the bowl. “still hate that guy, though.”
“the one you think is lying about being rich?”
“i don’t know much about real ones, but i’m pretty sure i’ve seen enough fake diamonds!”
that seems to hits the right spot to elevate your mood. you hum happily as you chew, collapsing on the cushions and looking straight ahead at the television screen.
“sorry about that. you must be bored and tired by now.”
“about that…” jungkook swallows his nervousness. he rests his arm on top of the sofa, just to act cool. he’s so close to you yet still so distant. “i’m dead tired from filming today. i’ve been up since four in the morning. would it be too much trouble if i spend the night again?”
“i should be the one asking you that. why do you like this trashy place way more than i do?” you shake your head, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin. “i’ll go fix up so you can rest then. you’re lucky minji didn’t claim the bed first.”
fuck, he was supposed to get kicked out?
“wait! do you need a change of clothes?”
“there’s no need!” he replies a little too quickly. if he has to wear the clothes of another one of your exes, he might end up on the news for setting himself on fire. “i have extras in my backpack i didn’t got to wear today.”
“oh, okay.” you flash him a smile before disappearing into the bedroom.
yeah, how convenient.
he exhales through his mouth.
when did he start lying? his mother would be very disappointed in him. but on the other hand, his father would explode in boisterous laughter and pat him on the back. nevermind… that just makes it worse.
“guess i’m going to hell!” he shrugs, wearing a smile that is rather too jubilant.
he grabs his backpack on the floor and heads to the bathroom; your home is another home away from home.
jungkook is exhausted from dance practice. he must’ve exerted himself too hard again without realizing it. for the third time this week, he’s attaching pain relief patches to his neck and shoulders, shirt pulled to the side as to expose the area. normally, he’d just take it off without care, but he’s in a different setting. while he’s pretty confident with the current condition of his body, it would be rude to strip out of nowhere. and you make him nervous. would he fluster you or would you fluster him? he’s not prepared to find out yet.
“are you okay?”
his movements from below capture your attention amidst catching up to the events in your group chats.
“i’m okay, just a little sore. don’t worry!” he waves off your concern with a scrunch of his nose. “i also fell asleep in the car earlier so…”
“i can give you a massage. if you want.”
“no, it’s fine.” even though the offer sounds extremely tempting, especially coming from you. “i know you’re tired too.”
“hm, your loss. i’m kind of an expert at it.”
he squints his eyes at you. “really?”
“you don’t believe me?”
you sit up on the bed with an offended gasp, and he laughs at how you quite literally rose up to the challenge.
“we do have actual experts come in and take care of us too, you know that?”
“excuse you, i’m an actual expert! i have more than a decade of experience!”
he isn’t surprised to witness you climb down immediately afterwards, sitting behind him with your hands already on his shoulders.
“hmm, my dad worked at construction sites. my mom had a desk job. this- this was my job.” your fingers begin pressing down as if you’re assessing him, touching the bare skin of his still exposed shoulder. “got paid with extra allowance. making money was easy back then.”
“you’re so adorab- ah, ah, ah-” his sentence is cut short by his own self when you apply pressure on a big knot, gently massaging it in small circles to loosen the tightly wound muscle fibers. “fuck, it hurts… yeah, that’s good. don’t stop.”
he hears you snort, feels your forehead collapse on his back as vibrant giggles rack your body. a blush of red creeps up to his cheeks and he’s thankful that you can’t see his face.
he laughs along, belly aching. “okay, okay- i heard it! i should keep my mouth shut!”
“no no no, i won’t laugh anymore!”
“you’re still doing it right now!”
“i’ll stop!” you sniffle, laughed to the point of tears. you squeeze his shoulders. “just relax! you’re so tense here, see? no wonder it hurts.”
there’s no denying that his body is pushed to its limits everyday; he has grown accustomed of this kind of lifestyle and he doesn’t complain. you’re making him want to do it all the time, though. if it means getting pampered like this? hell yeah.
“it hurts here too. over- over here-” he reaches a hand to his back, patting the area that has been bothering him all day. “this part. will you make it go away, please?”
“here? your shoulder blade?”
“yes!”
“okay. tell me if i should go gentler or harder. i don’t want to hurt you.”
it’s his turn to snort. he shortly learns that was not a smart move.
“ah, ah, ah-” you pull at his ear and this time he moans in pain. “oh, come on! you gave that one away!”
“shut up! you’re not allowed to laugh too!”
he tries not to create more embarrassing sounds. at some point he begun to busy himself with his phone, but to no avail, there are occasional moans and grunts he can’t bite down because you weren’t lying about being a pretty damn good masseur. and then he does it on purpose once, just to hear you laugh again, because his being already feels a million times lighter and you show no signs of exhaustion or boredom.
“you have a mole here,” you casually observe. he feels a light touch on the side of his neck and the butterflies in his stomach become untamed. “it’s sexy.”
he blushes, caught off guard by the compliment. “thank you.”
“you’re welcome.” you hum.
the minutes pass by and he is no longer faking silence, however. all he can think about now is how he wishes that he was lying down for this. how long has it been? you’ve been definitely at it for almost an hour. he yawns, eyelids fighting to stay open but failing miserably.
“hey, wipe your drool.”
he blinks. your beautiful face greets him— for a second, he’s convinced that he has begun dreaming. with a mischievous grin, you lift the collar of his shirt to wipe the corners of his lips, and in a state of near delirium, he cackles.
“seriously, thank you… i-i don’t even know what to say. i really needed that.” he sighs, carelessly rubbing his heavy eyes. “i’ll treat you to dinner tomorrow. how about that?”
“sounds good. now go to sleep.” you pat his back before rising on your feet. “your head kept on dropping and i felt bad.”
“that happens a lot.”
“well, it’s bad for your neck. keep doing it and i’ll get more free dinners.”
the unmistakable sound of a kiss that follows, it suspiciously matches with the warmth that lingers on his cheek.
“goodnight!”
“goodnight…” he only manages to mumble.
his mind has gone off to space. you tuck yourself into your bed after turning off the lampshade while jungkook feels like he just got blasted to the moon. he needs to get out of here. STAT.
“i’ll go drink some water. do you want me to get you a glass?”
“no, i’m fine.”
he makes out your figure shuffling in the dark, snuggled closely to a pillow.
he nods, which you probably didn’t even see. he steps out of the room as quietly as possible, slowly closing the door as to produce the smallest click. he pads to the kitchen still feeling light, almost like he’s walking on a path made out of clouds. he pours himself a glass of cold water from the fridge, chugs it down to the very last drop.
he licks his lips as he sets down the glass on the counter. he sighs deeply. he can still feel the outline of your lips, sticky lip balm printed on his skin. is it normal that he couldn’t be bothered to wipe it off?
“totally worth going to hell for.” he muses, unaware of the smirk that has started playing on his lips.
he briskly washes the glass at the sink, wiping it dry with a towel before deposting it back into the rack.
as expected, you’ve already fallen asleep by the time that he returns. the light from the hallway casts a glow over your face and it’s a sight that is painfully intimate in its own peculiar way.
he can’t put a name to it, but whatever this feeling is, he likes it and he wants it to last.
and so, he lingers by the door for a few seconds more.
III. THE YEARNING
jungkook hisses your name with yet another curse, heart so close to jumping out of his chest. when you were on the phone incoherently begging him to take you home from the club, he expected to carry out a passed out person from his car to their apartment floor, which he found no problem with aside from the possibility of having to deal with them throwing up.
instead, he is struck by an unusual combination of amusement and distress. he has been running around trying to capture you as you spend your final bursts of energy ringing strangers’ doorbells. your exhilarated laughter echoes throughout the hallways. he must confess that he was laughing along with you the first time… until it started to get a little bit out of hand.
if someone recognizes him by chance, he would be beyond fucked.
“don’t- don't do it! stop it! please!” he finally manages to seize your wrist before it can reach another, forced to wrap his arms around your torso so you won’t escape from him again. “are you crazy? it’s 3am! people are sleeping!”
“that’s the point.” you mewl, looking back to him with a childish pout underneath the hood of your coat. “why are they sleeping? it’s when the ghosts come out. does no one ever think about ghosts’ feelings? because i do! if i were a ghost, i’d be lonely and crying right now!”
oh my god, what is happening?
“so let’s invite them and everyone for more drinks!” you jump up and down, his secure hold doesn’t hold a candle to your hypernese. “jungkook, i want to drink more! more more more! buy me!”
unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to dwell on your cuteness. he hears a door click from behind and his instincts instantaneously kick in. oh shit, you actually fucking woke someone up. he sweeps you off your feet, clasping a hand over your mouth to mute your angry protests. he turns at a corner, trapping you against the wall.
a deep and manly voice fills the silence. “hello? who’s there?”
two pairs of eyes widen, staring at each other as if they can read minds through them. he notices the unsteady rise and fall of your chest; your heart must be beating as fast as his. he has to pull down his black mask to be able to breathe.
“you’re going to be the death of me.” he grumbles with a pointed look.
when you smile, he perceives it first through the palm of his hand before it reaches your eyes. only then does he fully register the dangerously close proximity between you.
dangerous because he wants to kiss you.
dangerous because you’d dare him to do it and his self-control has been reduced to a million cracks.
“ah, this prank again! fucking teenagers!”
and the door slams shut. you both flinch.
“that guy has a fridge full of beer!”
you are vexed, voice muffled but still clearly loud. you harshly paw at his forearm to remove his hand, and your pout finally comes into view.
“no, you’ve had enough! seriously, what am i going to do with you? huh? you shouldn’t even be drinking at all.” he blows a loud breath, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “how did you even get in the club? fake id? you have it, don’t you?”
you rush to defend yourself. “i’m only younger by a year and i don’t look like it! as if they actually care in those places. they only want money.”
he begins to question if the bloodshot of your eyes is solely because of the alcohol or you’re also on the verge of tears.
“why? are you mad at me?”
“no, i’m not mad. should i be?”
“…i don’t know. why do you even care about things like that? you’re not my boyfriend or my parent so i don’t need to explain myself to you.” you angrily ramble, wriggling out of the tight spot he had you trapped in.
and that felt like a fucking dagger to the heart.
“you know what? i-i can do this. i can take care of myself, so go home.”
“____, don’t be like this, please. you’re drunk.”
“i’m not drunk, just tipsy! you can go home!”
he runs after you, but you shrug him off and continue walking away, perhaps a little too fast. he curses himself when he catches up to you seconds too late, witnessing you fall over to the floor with a thump and a whimper.
“are you okay?! where does it hurt?!”
you shake your head profusely, but your hands gripping your ankle gives away the answers. he doesn’t press you further. without another word, he hooks an arm under your knees and the other under your back, swooping you from the floor. he stands up straight, adjusts your position slightly, and walks the path you attempted to travel alone in your intoxicated state.
perhaps he is mad. he went and abandoned his rest time when you said that you needed him, only for you to rudely send him home. he has the right to be mad, even just a little bit, despite the fact that he isn’t your boyfriend, right?
not that it matters.
you cling to his neck and it all melts away.
he glances down at you. a soft smile has replaced your frown. “oh, so now you’re happy again?”
“yes,” you tilt your head. “feels like i’m floating.”
“where’s your key?”
“huh?”
“your key-”
“oh!”
you dig out the item from the pocket of your coat. you proudly dangle it infront of his face along with the colorful keychains attached to it; the bear was gifted by yours truly from japan. he totally forgot that it existed. the last time he saw it was when he tossed it in the paper bag he gave you.
he’s not even your boyfriend. the two of you know that doesn’t make sense anymore.
after he sets you down on the sofa, he kneels on the floor to remove the heels from your aching feet. he gets the hang of it after unfastening the second strap. while he’s preoccupied, you strip off your coat to combat the increased temperature of your body.
“i need to pee.” you urgently kick off the heels as you rise on your feet.
jungkook looks up and forgets how to breathe. you are irresistibly gorgeous; the cherry red mid-thigh dress you’ve been hiding from him hugs your body so perfectly. he’s ensnared and thoroughly convinced that you’re aware of your power to leave men and women alike sweating and tongue-tied.
goddammit, he is mad. you were at the club looking like this among flashing lights and grinding bodies and he is not your boyfriend.
“doesn’t your ankle hurt?”
“doesn’t matter. i need to pee.”
he clicks his tongue as you limp your way towards the bathroom.
“you’re so hardheaded.”
he lifts up your arm to bring it over his shoulders; he holds your waist to assist you.
“and your heart is so soft.” you giggle, and his world stops when you hold his face… peppering his cheek with an amount of kisses he doesn’t have half the mind to count.
you said you’re not drunk, just tipsy. does that mean you genuinely like him this much and you’ll remember it when you wake up?
dear god, he hopes so.
jungkook is supposed to wake up in four hours. however, he’s still wide awake sitting by your pillow, mind completely blank on what he’s supposed to do now that you’re safe and sound. he can’t bring himself to leave just yet. you bump against his knee as you shuffle and squirm, eyes closed but yet to land in the confines of slumber. he can hear your rugged and frustrated breathing, can’t help but to hopelessly adore how pretty you are even with knitted eyebrows and tousled hair.
he likes you so much. he knows it hasn’t been that long since you met but the thought of losing the chance of winning you over makes him want to cry and throw a tantrum. you’re running in his mind day and night. you have permeated all his senses. you charm him with your unapologetic existence and you effortlessly captivate his ungiven affections.
when it comes to love, his passion becomes a weakness.
a whine emits from your parted lips as if you sense that something is wrong. your hands pat around the mattress— searching and searching, until they stumble upon him. you push yourself up, head landing on the pillow, and your arms, they hug him close by his waist. only then do you finally come to a still, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
you are at peace and he is experiencing an emotional turmoil— falling in love. this is simply not fair.
the lines are becoming so blurry. he is losing control of his hands, hyperaware of what he is capable with his possession of them. he strokes your head gently, hair brushing across his palm— this is soothing to him as much as it is you.
this feels right, he thinks. he wants time to stretch from this galaxy to another.
he feels a weak tug at his sweater.
“i’m cold now,” your complaint comes out mumbled against the thick fabric.
next thing he knows you’re pulling him down by his collar, leaving him with no choice but to lie down beside you as to not crush you under his weight. where the hell did you gather the strength to do that?!
he hisses in panic. “yah! what are you doing?”
“i’m cold,” you repeat.
“____, we’re lying down on the blanket. if you can just scoot over for a seco- i’ll take it out. move-”
his attempts on communicating to you only fall on deaf ears. he zips his mouth to admit defeat.
you cling to him for warmth, and jungkook finds himself giving more than that. he volunteers his arm to be your pillow, softly cupping the back of your head as you nuzzle your face on his chest; his other arm wraps around your torso to keep you close. it is quite a tight fit on a single bed— he figures out a lame excuse for later.
now he can say for certain that you’re hearing his heartbeat, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore. he also doesn’t mind the scent of alcohol because it’s tragically losing the battle against your sweet perfume. it renders him enchanted. and the dress… that hypnotizing dress. he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to banish the sinful thoughts flooding his imagination.
he didn’t peg you to be the physically affectionate type, but seeing that you can’t sleep without hugging something, someone— he wants to be just the thing that you cherish as your safe haven. he wants this memory to be cute… and romantic. but too much heavy on the romance, you affect his body and heart in ways no one can.
he tries to will his growing erection to ebb away. it’s not an appropriate situation. he likes and respects you too much.
“my makeup…”
you said it so quietly, he almost believed he was making it up in his head.
“what was that?”
“will you- please, will you help me take off my makeup? it’s bothering me.” you make one final request at the depths of drowsiness, speech slurred and stuttered. “the wipes… the drawer behind you.”
he should’ve thought of that. he’s learning. next time, he will.
he settles into his previous position after grabbing the wipes.
“how do i help? is it okay if i d-”
he interrupts his question when he realizes that you’ve finally fallen asleep.
his sigh momentarily fills the defeaning silence of the night. the exhaustion has also begun to take a toll on him. he’s going to have to catch up on sleep during car rides and set breaks. he’s already dreading it as he’s planning around their hectic schedule.
as he wipes off your makeup as carefully as possible, he mutters into the thin air. “you owe me a massage for this.”
IV. HAPPINESS OUTSIDE DAYDREAMS
“you’re my boyfriend now and you don’t sleep on the floor anymore. how cute is that?” you happily think out loud, swinging your feet dangling at the edge of the bed. “but if you want to go back to our old ways… my bed is small even for me.”
“no way. are you kidding?!” he jokingly protests in an angry manner. “your bed is perfect.”
jungkook is on cloud nine. it sure does feel good to hear you sound so happy calling him your boyfriend, even more so to reap its special privileges.
“i keep forgetting to ask. which side do you prefer?”
you’re sat facing the door. “i don’t know, but i’m used to sleeping here.”
“alright. i’ll stay here.” he climbs under the covers, spreading his arms once his back hits the mattress. the smirk on his face widens. “come here, baby.”
a grunt slips past his lips when you jump into his arms without warning, eventually falling over to the side when he moves to envelope you in his embrace.
“you’re so warm.” you purr in contentment as you bury your face against his chest. “i love cuddling so much.”
“i’ve noticed,” he replies. he softly squeezes your exposed thigh after you slump your leg over his hip to maximize your comfort. “your pillow must be softer than me though.”
“no, i like you more… cuddling is proven to have health benefits, you know?”
he quirks an eyebrow. “oh really? give me examples.”
“it releases happy chemicals in the brain… it apparently also helps to lower blood pressure and heart rate, and it-” you fail to stifle a sleepy yawn, hands grasping the cloth of his shirt and forming closed fists. “…improves one’s quality of sleep.”
“i can see it’s working well for you.” he chuckles.
“is it for you?”
“mhmm, yes,” he presses his lips to your forehead. “i’m happy. there’s only happy chemicals in my brain right now.”
jungkook means it wholeheartedly and it feels strange. he doesn’t feel happy in this moment alone. this happiness is colossal and there’s not nearly enough hours in a day to take it all in. this happiness will still be here when he wakes up tomorrow, and the day after that. this happiness stays with him even when you’re not physically present. you’ve turned him into an optimistic fool but it’s not always that he experiences an attraction this strong.
he’s smitten and he can’t hide it. the people who are around him everyday sees it on his face; he doesn’t even need to say it out loud. all that corny shenanigans about romance giving you a certain type of glow is apparently true, it turns out.
“kissing is said to have the same effects, actually.”
your coyness captivates him from his thoughts.
he draws back slightly, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirroring yours. “where do you learn these things?”
“through reading and experience.” you shrug innocently. “want to test that out too?”
you’re everywhere. he can taste your lips, your tongue; your body wash floods his sense of smell with a sweet and clean scent, plus something else he can’t quite name. he can only it describe as you. your hair is tangled in his fingers and your hands… so delicate and teasing with every touch, it feels like being electrified. it still feels incredibly chilly outside but heat is radiating off his skin. he needs to peel himself off you before he loses his last shred of self-control.
“baby…” he whispers, lips only a couple inches from yours. he takes your hand in a tender hold, placing it over his racing heartbeat. “i’m not sure about this one being good for my health.”
“but it is. you just burnt some calories.” you smile, wiping the sweat that has started to form on his forehead. “should we stop?”
he feels his cheeks become more flushed, but his craving for you has overtaken his shyness. he might as well be drunk; intoxicated by you.
“no.” he refuses, conflicted and almost pained. “i can’t…”
he gets rid of the distance between your lips once more, swallowing the first obscene moan he brings out of you.
V. THE SPRING FLOWER IN THE EYE OF THE STORM
although you know they held affection for you, the boys you’ve attracted in your life have made one thing clear: they see you as an object of desire, and you unintentionally play the part well. if you were going to make their wet dreams come true, then you ought to derive pleasure from it as well without shame.
but with jungkook, the tables have turned. you wore the same lipstick from last time to rile him up on purpose, but instead you’re the one stuck trying to recall a time you were this putty in somebody’s hands. you’re not in control— you expect this thought would make you spiral, but it doesn’t.
you stumble inside your apartment making out with your boyfriend and you have an orange azalea tucked behind your ear. his hand is in your mess of a hair and it protects your head from the impact of the wall as your back collides with it. you don’t know if it was on purpose or not but your heart flutters nonetheless. this is sickeningly romantic and you want to drown yourself in it.
“oh, feels good.” his mouth on your neck is addictive, you imagine it would be heavenly on more vulnerable parts of you. your nails harshly dig into his shoulder as he takes his time with every lick, every nip of his teeth— eager to learn more about your body and what makes it weak at the knees.
you tug at his hair with a whisper. “jungkook…”
“mhm? yes, baby?”
you thought you’ve seen and felt enough. you know about lust, but never felt a chemistry this electrifying. there’s an emotion screaming beneath the daze in jungkook’s eyes; it’s always been there, but not this loud. you think if you trust your gut and open yourself up… you might just come to gain an understanding of it.
you bite your bottom lip, behind it a shadow of a smile. “bedroom.”
his restless hands slide down to hook around your thighs, and not long after, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he navigates your apartment blinded by the mutual refusal of your lips to disconnect. you giggle every time he bumps into something and groans. with his fear of accidentally letting you fall felt through his tight grip, you’re the one who kicks the bedroom shut. the sound couldn’t have been louder than the pounding of your heart reaching your own ears.
jungkook is gentle as he lays you down on the bed, but your lack of inhibitions reign over you. you begin unbuttoning his shirt, unconsciously grinding your heat against his thigh as you do so. it catches him by surprise, but then his strong hands find purchase on your waist, and you know he wants this as much as you do.
the kiss is broken up by a moan when his grip falls to your hips, guiding your wild movements in chasing pleasure with a tenderness and sensuality that transforms you into a feverish mess. another gush of arousal ruins your underwear worse. you kiss him again and eventually you lose count of the buttons— patience runs thin and with adrenaline rushing through your veins, you tear his shirt apart.
he hisses. “baby, shit- what did y-”
“shhh,” you place an index finger over his lips.
he chuckles raspily, shaking his head in disbelief. your giggles join him, equally amused with yourself.
it’s still for a few seconds, but you can hear each other breathe in the dark. you’ve seen him naked but his silhouette alone stirs the fuel spreading throughout your body. he’s perfect. your lips reclaim the place of your finger. your hands caress every inch of his skin, every curve of his flesh they can reach. he doesn’t make an effort to hold his noises and it turns you on more, if that is even possible at this point. his muscles continue to tense under your touches, even worse when you find his nipples to tease and play with. he’s perfect.
“it’s my turn.” he tries to say in the middle of the kiss, but you don’t hear a thing until he’s pulling away breathless and you’re whining in disappointment. “let me return the flavor please? i’ve been going crazy thinking about it. fuck, please.”
you sit up on the bed, pushing his naked chest challengingly. “what? you want to eat me out?“
he swallows, wide scandalized eyes failing to escape your keen observation. “i do.”
you watch him watch you strip off your sweater, “really…?” and then unclasp your bra, allowing its straps to provocatively slide down your shoulders.
“ye-yes, really.”
“then what’s stopping you?”
he whines out your name, interrupting himself with his craving for another kiss as he slips off your bra completely. it gets lost on the floor along with your sweater and you smirk deviously against his lips. “you’re testing me like this, huh? you’re so mean.”
you lie on your bed but you feel like you’re on top of the world. jungkook scatters kisses from your neck down to your chest, occasionally licking and biting as if he can’t help but to taste you. he uncovers another ticklish spot along your ribcage, but you bite your lip to control your giggles. instead, you touch his face to subtly guide him away from it.
he nuzzles his cheek against your palm, eyelids fluttering close as he presses a soft kiss to your wrist.
“may i?”
the shape of his lips lingers there. no one has ever kissed your wrist, nor have you ever imagined the first time to take place in bed.
your thumb strokes his cheek tenderly. the silence that follows there after concerns jungkook. he calls out your name, snapping you out of deep thought.
“may i?” he repeats himself.
he is patiently suspended over the waistband of your skirt. ever the gentleman, you half-smile.
“will you fuck me good after?”
the hand on his face sneaks down to pull up the skirt over your stomach; an even tinier piece of fabric covers the most intimate part of your body.
“whatever you want, baby, i will do it.” he promises.
you can hear the smirk in his voice, but you’re unable to form another response as his tongue laves over the lace, the warmth and wetness saturating through and stimulating your clit— once, slowly, and then over and over again.
you gasp, jolting and squirming in pleasure. he only makes it worse when he hums and you feel the vibration against you. you whine and he squeezes the soft flesh of your inner thighs in an attempt soothe you, keep you still, nuzzling his cheek as he meets your heated gaze.
“relax… is my baby always this sensitive?” he places a chaste kiss over your clit, causing your breath to hitch. “‘cause i’ve barely started.”
“jungkook,” you impatiently whine. “why’d you stop? just do it, please- need you.”
you’d wipe off that stupid smirk on his face if only you weren’t so pent up and you didn’t need his tongue.
“wow… didn’t think you’re the type to beg.” he muses, more so talking to himself. “i like it.”
hell no, you’re not.
but finally, he dives in, greedily pulling aside the flimsy material for a real taste of you. instead of a sharp remark, erotic sounds between a moan and a sob emit from your lips. your toes curl at the surge of mind-numbing ecstasy overwhelming your body. your hands fisting the sheets fly to his hair, frantically tugging like you can’t take it, but you beg and beg and beg him for more.
the last time you had sex was more than four months ago. you realized that you liked jungkook, and you simply didn’t want to do it with anybody else. sexual frustration combined with the romantic pining for a man that could potentially ruin your life; your youth has been nothing short of eventful.
has sex always been this good? you can’t remember. you’re drunk on pleasure even in the aftermath; you’re not sure if you’re really here or floating someplace else. as you catch your breath, jungkook soothes your body with gentle kisses and strokes of your skin, whispering sweet nothings. mostly babbling about how beautiful you are. and you feel it— feel beautiful, you mean.
you gradually open your eyes, vision adjusting to the divine view infront of you. jungkook is golden, skin still glistening with sweat under the warm glow of the lampshade. your heart skips a beat when he smiles at you.
“are you good? do you need anything? water?”
“again.”
his eyes widens. “again?“
“round two.” you giggle.
you push yourself up to reach his lips, but the kiss ends too soon for your liking.
“jungkook-” you complain.
“wait!”
you stare in bewilderment as he bends down from the edge of bed, appearing to be reaching for one of the objects discarded on the floor.
“what is it?”
“i found it!”
it’s the flower.
beaming with a hue of pure excitement, he tucks the azalea behind your ear for the second time tonight. pretty, he says it so quietly that you only understand through the movement of his lips.
he looks bewitched by you. in a different setting you’d be smug about it, but at this moment, you don’t understand. you can’t read what’s on his mind. if only you could see yourself through his eyes, even for just a moment, then maybe you’d understand why he’s dancing with fire and folding with his tower of cards.
it would be too silly and embarrassing to start crying now, right?
you swallow the lump in your throat, glassy eyes overshadowed by your boyfriend leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead. as if that isn’t enough to entirely melt your heart, he intertwines his fingers with yours. your walls come crumbling down. in a haste to forbid your emotions from breaking free, you reach for him and slip your tongue in his mouth for a fervent kiss.
the burning tears that drip down to your temples are lost evidence you will bring to the grave.
“you’re not supposed to be awake.” jungkook complains as soon as he opens the door.
you only spare him a glance before returning to your task. instead of being under the sheets, you’re sat on the floor with his button-up shirt from last night laid across your lap. only several steps closer and he realizes that you’re sewing.
he exhales through his mouth in surprise, setting aside the tray of food on the bed before joining you on the floor.
“baby, what are you doing?! it’s fine. you don’t need to fix it.”
“i know, but i want to.” you reply, smiling, eyes still swollen from sleep focused on the needle and thread. “i stepped on one of the buttons so i looked for the two other.”
he’s dumbfounded watching you sew with so much care and precision. oh my god, he is in love with you. he thinks it so loud he gets terrified that he might’ve ended up speaking it out loud too.
“at least eat first!”
“wow, where did you buy ingredients so early?”
“early?” he scratches his head. “it’s lunch time.”
“what?!” your eyes grow twice their size. “jungkook, i’m late for work! what didn’t you wake me up?!”
“you- you we- you were tired!” he stutters defending himself.
he awkwardly catches his shirt when you throw it aside in a rush to get to the bathroom.
“baby, what about your food?!” he yells.
“wait, i forgot my towel-” you pop out from the doorframe, beaming at him breathlessly. “oh, please pack the food in my lunchbox!”
VI. SPEAKING TRUTHFULLY, YOU’RE THE ONE FOR ME
“i missed you.”
you giggle. “you look drunk.”
you hold jungkook’s cheeks in the palm of your hands, and he revels in the comforting warmth radiating from them.
he closes his eyes with a toothy grin. “i’m exhausted.”
“then go to sleep!”
“i don’t want to!”
he opens one eye, peeking at you.
“i came here so you won’t have to tire yourself out more going to my place.” you pout. “why do you hate resting?”
“this is me resting,” he says as a matter of fact, leaning down to give your lips a peck. “you are my rest.”
while it may be true that his body is begging for sleep, his mind is willing him to stay awake for as long as he can. he likes that he has nothing to prove here; he can simply be. you’re softly tracing his skin, forming constellations from the moles on his face, and he knows they’re created out of pure wonder and love.
“this one’s so cute!” you gush. “nobody talks about it enough.”
you place an affectionate kiss on the mole at the bridge of his nose.
“maybe because nobody has noticed it but you.”
you roll your eyes. “as if i’m the only one who spends their free time looking at your face.”
“but you’re the one who can view me in the highest quality.” he brings his face a little closer to tease you; noses almost brushing. “no one else can have me this close.”
“that’s right. or else you will never have me this close again.”
you squint your eyes at him as a threat; a frown making a permanent residence on your lips. fuck, when is he not thinking about kissing you?
“aigoo, look at you sulking!” he exclaims with a laugh.
“i’m not!”
“okay, whatever you say.” he replies in a sing-song voice.
it’s silent for a few beats as he engulfs you in his embrace. he feels like he’s being recharged, and with that comes along the overdue acknowledgement of his exhaustion. he meant it when he said that you are his rest.
“you know, i can’t help but to wonder sometimes.”
there is an undertone of hesitance in the way you spoke which is not typical of you. this prompts him to draw back a little, just enough to get a good look of your face.
“wonder about?”
“i’m not trying to put myself down or anything like that, by the way. i’m not expecting you to say the right thing or whatever either. i’m just-”
you pause, teeth nervously biting your lip. his heart aches in an instant when you avoid his eyes.
“i’m just genuinely curious? and saying what’s on my mind.”
“what is it?” he juts out his bottom lip. “you’re scaring me.”
“it’s not a big deal!”
“go on then. i’m listening.”
“i mean, i know i’m a catch, and- and i have a lot to offer, and i’m special in my own way. but you have a lot of…” you blink, trying to find the right term. “options.”
the word alone causes distaste to morph in his facial expression.
“okay, okay, i know! ugh, i don’t know how else to say it. but you have these beautiful and amazing people throwing themselves at you and sometimes i’m flabbergasted that you actively reject them for me.”
“baby, what are you even saying-”
“i’m serious. there are girls i would’ve totally gone for!”
“but they’re not you!”
he tilts your chin, smiling when at last, he recaptures your wide-eyed gaze.
“it’s really as simple as that.”
“but when we weren’t official yet-”
“i liked you from the start, if i didn’t make that obvious enough.”
you scrunch your cute nose; a smile of pure giddiness starting to form on your face. “you did… i knew.”
“i can’t believe you’re thinking about things like that. i only have eyes for you, baby. do you remember the first fight we had, huh? remember how i got drunk and cried?”
he doesn’t particularly like to relive the trauma and consequences of receiving unsolicited… almost naked… photos of an acquaintance while he’s watching a silly youtube video on his phone with his significant other. anything can be fixed in a relationship if both parties exert the effort, but trust, it is almost impossible to rebuild.
she didn’t know he was, is, in a relationship. in general, no one outside his inner circle really expects him to be in a relationship, or at least be in one that is serious or long-term. because, well, where would he find the time and energy for that kind of stuff?
but keeping you as a secret was his way of protecting you, and if you were hurting because of that, you didn’t show it.
oh, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t mad.
you needed some time to clear your head, you said. ignored his texts and phone calls; shooed him away when he begged at your front door. that issue may already been resolved, but he’s still not done proving that he’s solely committed to you.
you’re one of the most important people in his life. he loves you and he tends to get worried that you will never know much.
you gasp, hitting his chest. “when did that happen?!”
“why are you shocked…?” he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t know?”
“how would i know?”
he scratches his head in confusion. he should probably stop talking at this point and not dig his own grave, but his honesty leads him on. “…didn’t taehyungie-hyung send you a video? or did i make that up in my head?”
he immediately regrets it when the sparkle of mischief appears in your eyes.
“he’s still awake, right?”
“actually, he sleeps early nowadays!”
you wiggle out of his embrace, playfully sticking out your tongue at him. “i’ll go get the copy from him right now.”
“it was so long ago. it’s probably deleted by now!”
“wouldn’t hurt to check.”
“baby, no! it’s embarrassing!” he attempts to pull you back, but his hands barely reach you. “let’s just go to sleep, hm? didn’t you come here to put me to sleep?”
“aw, my love…”
he melts when you gingerly stroke his hair too. he will never live it down if his friends witnessed you babying him and him loving it.
“just close your eyes.”
and with your hand obstructing his vision, he sees pitch black and floating spots and flecks.
“i’ll be back in a minute! mwah!”
but despite his sense of sight being taken away, he still feels you spring off the mattress. the weight of your feet against the floor resonates along with the shout of your name as he follows you out of his bedroom.
you squeal in panic when you realize that you’re being chased. “go back to bed!”
“i won’t unless you go back with me!”
this is one of the instances in which jungkook is grateful for his gifts of athletic prowess and long limbs.
with little to no effort, he overtakes you in the race towards taehyung’s bedroom. doe eyes akin to a deer caught in the headlights, he swings the door open.
taehyung’s eyes flicker up from his phone. he’s frankly not surprised about the intrusion, not after hearing the commotion outside.
“need anything?”
“all the videos you have of him drunk!”
“hyung, no! you can’t give it!”
VII. THE CHOICE TO STAY
“give it to me.”
the blanket that jungkook carried from the bedroom is snatched away from his hands. it becomes unfurled and thrown over to shield your shivering vessel from the cold. without a word, he crawls on the couch and under the blanket, hugging you from behind as you catch up on your ongoing tv shows.
relief… he’s been looking forward to this all day.
the tension in his muscles, from head to toe, begin to fade away, especially as you take his hand in yours so you can give it a chaste kiss. it’s quick, but long enough for him to feel the softness of your lips. his hug tightens. he remains silent as he inhales, and exhales, slow and calm. he’s not trying to fall asleep as much as trying to shut down his brain. they say the world has stopped but from his point of view, it has erupted into chaos and he has no other choice but to watch it fall apart and to attempt to rebuild it at the same time. god knows he is doing the best he can but it feels like his best will never not be lacking.
jungkook is scared, and he is more scared knowing that everyone else is too. but for the past two years, whether you’re whole or broken, whether he’s climbing or falling— it never made a difference. you’ve always stayed.
he finds comfort in knowing that he has this constant among the ominous unknown.
his little firefly; your light won’t go out even as the world lets out its final sigh.
“my love, why are you sad?”
you flipped to your other side when another commercial break rolled in; now you’re hovering over him, curious eyes studying every inch of his face.
“is my love hurt anywhere?” you coo. “where should i kiss?”
his body shakes with quiet laughter as you pepper his face with kisses, trailing down to his jaw until you reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
“or do you want a massage? here? know you had a looong day.”
“really? how’d you know?”
“yeah, ‘cause you haven’t showered. you’re all stinky.”
“oh, am i?” he playfully pinches your waist, which you react to with a drawn out whine. “and yet you’re still cuddling with me.”
“so? do you need my massage therapy services or not?!”
“no. i only need my lover, please.” he pleads with droopy eyelids, emphasizing his request by tangling his limbs with yours.
he can’t hide from you like he hides from himself. you’re much more gentler with his heart than he is; unconciously, he trusts you more with it.
“you have me. what’s wrong?”
your hands anchored on the sofa are swept away as he pulls you closer, your weight crashing down on him entirely. he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your natural scent and the lavender in your body wash.
“eh, it’s just work… everything that could go wrong is going wrong. we’re trying to figure things out, but what can we do really…? there’s nothing. i- this-this whole thing is just so fucking frustrating, baby. i’m sorry.”
“it’s not just work! it’s your reason for living. of course this is frustrating and painful for you. it’s understandable to feel that way.”
he can practically hear you pouting. he is proven right when you lift your head, leaning in to give him a kiss. he smiles against your lips. he loves you so much.
“so please don’t burn yourself out trying to be okay. you have me by your side who can help you carry your burdens.”
it was scary at the beginning, but now it only feels right. it is impossible not to love you with all of his heart and soul; you deserve nothing less and more than what he can give. when you hug him, he hugs you back tighter.
“you’re my reason to live too.”
“i shouldn’t be. what if i die before you?”
“yah, don’t says things like that!” he scolds you faster than he can think, eyebrows knitted together and frown a tad deeper. “you won’t. it won’t happen.”
“i will die eventually.” you grimace.
“please don’t say such things as ‘i want you to move on and meet someone else and fall in love again and remarry.’ i don’t want to hear it!” he rambles so fast that he doesn’t even understand himself, stumbling and lisping. “i will seriously cry!”
“oh, i don’t care for things like that.”
you make yourself more comfortable; your boyfriend as your own personal bed. sleeping on top of him has been a natural occurence these days, not that he minds. you’re so soft and warm. it’s like hugging a stuffed toy to sleep. still, he’s mindful of you falling off the couch again.
“do whatever you like.” your eyes meet as you bestow him with a smile. “i’ll be dead; i won’t even know what happens next.”
“you don’t care? huh…” he huffs over the hypothetical.
the mere consideration of it feels like cheating. he knows that it technically isn’t, but he can’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone who isn’t you. nevertheless, if he was being honest and it was the other way around, he’d probably do tell you to leave your heart open. but the topic is not the other way around and jungkook’s heart is stubbornly bound to you.
“why am i getting upset?”
“i don’t care because i’m confident.” you say candidly. “you can fall in love with someone else, but no one will ever love you the way that i do.”
ah, and here comes a side of you that he knows and loves. he swears that cupid is in the room and his heart was just hit by another one of his arrows. it feels so good to be loved so fearlessly.
“i know, so why even bother?” he arrives at a conclusion to his defense, but there’s a much better solution. “please never ever leave me so i won’t have to deal with this dilemma.”
he catches you roll your eyes before he comes face-to-face with the back of your head. your cheek rests on top of his chest; he feels it above his beating heart.
“what then? are we supposed to die together?”
he hums in thought. “it’s not a totally bad idea. we live together, so wouldn’t that make sense too?”
“wow, very shakespearean of you.”
“oh, that’s right! see? isn’t this your type of thing? let’s do it!”
“oh my god, you’re so stupid.” you hide your face behind your hand, giggling in disbelief of the sharp turn this conversation took.
jungkook loves making you laugh. for a little while, he forgets everything else. the world outside may be terrifying but you have your own in your shared apartment. you’re his reason to live too. you ignite the life in his veins. you kiss him with an appetite for passion and love and he enters heaven on earth.
“thank you.” you mumble against his lips.
“thank you?”
“for loving me, for living with me…” your voice wavers and his heart drops to his stomach. he can hold back his tears, but never when he sees yours flowing. “even when you’re tired and having a hard time.”
“you make it sound like a chore, but the truth is loving you gives me the strength to work hard everyday. you do know that, right? baby?” he strokes your hair tenderly, hoping that you receive his sincerity. “i should be the one thanking you… i should say it more often. you didn’t give up on loving me even when it was hurting you.”
“it’s all in the past… you were hurting too.” you reply in a faint whisper. “i love you.”
cupid must owe him a tremendous favor to have granted him the purest form of love a human being could have.
he plants a kiss on your forehead, noticing the rise of your shoulders. an endearing thing they occasionally do when you’re happy, shy, or flattered. it’s one of the many things he learned about you since you started living under the same roof.
he’s been learning about himself too. he tried saving you from himself but this fact is now well-established— you are the sun; it only hurts him to push you away because you’re in everything. it’s the little things that will haunt him if lost. when pieced together, they declare that you love him and he loves you.
the words i’m going home have gained more meaning and he’s excited to say them at the end of each day. he talks about his day and you talk about yours. you find out he’s the reason your lotion ran out too fast again and you chase him around the apartment until he promises to buy you the biggest bottle. you play rock-paper-scissors to figure out who will wash the dishes or receive the food from the delivery guy. you watch too many cooking videos on his phone until one of you falls asleep. most of the time it’s you. tonight, it’s still you.
he must confess that up to this day, he admires you when you sleep. you are safe and sound, and he is mended in places he did not know existed.
it’s time to sleep, he also decides.
he cocoons you in the blanket, then provides another layer of warmth which is his body. once settled, he closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. “what’s the use of our giant bed if we keep on sleeping on the couch?”
(?). AN ETERNAL RECORD: MY TREASURE, MY LOVE (ARCHIVED)
[DEC 25 ‘17 02:12AM]
“is it rolling?”
“yes, it’s rolling.”
you excitedly look at the film camera from the thick pile of snow on the ground, moving your arms up and down and your legs from side to side. an attempt to create a snow angel.
your giggles and the crackles of the snow are heard through the speaker.
the lens zoom in on your face.
childlike joy in the form of an everlasting smile and snowflakes on your hair.
“am i doing it?!”
“you are!”
“really?”
“really!”
“is it pretty?”
your face comes out of the frame. for a second only the white snow is seen, and then the dark brown of your coat as you skip towards the camera.
“let me watch!”
the camera shakes before it pans to the ground.
rustling of clothes and a shy, panicked voice.
“hold on- i-i’ll just fix the…”
“why?”
“huh, what do i do?” a forced laugh to mask nervousness. “i think it didn’t save-”
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drefear · 9 months
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Closer by NIN
This is part two for Nasty
Summary: You and Miguel have been finding things out about each other through your music choices.
TW: When I say that this one is rough, I mean that this type of sex could get you arrested. I'd bail him out. biting, scratching, dacrophilia, p in v, breeding kink, honestly just everything.
Miguel was panting a bit, rolling off of your body as you both came down from your high together. It had been a few weeks since he listened to that damn song you loved and found out about what you liked in bed, fully using this to his advantage and constantly making you a squirming mess underneath him. 
His eyes stared at the ceiling with a smile on his lips, then closing them for a second before feeling you shift beside him in his bed. He felt your breast press onto his chest as you laid on top of him and his hands slid to hold your waist, peaking open one eye at your smirking face. 
“What’s going on in that head of yours, mamacita?” He questioned, tapping his fingers into your skin a bit as you rested your chin on his pecks. You could feel his heartbeat becoming normal again after your rigorous rounds. 
“I’m just wondering what your turn ons are? What makes you insatiable and want more?” You go on and on as he just chuckles, brushing some of the hair from your face as you stare at him with your big doe eyes, filled with curiosity. 
“You, mi amor.” He answers and closes his eyes again, pulling you tight to him as he rolls onto his side and pecks your forehead. “Now we need to sleep, we have an early debriefing tomorrow.” He mumbled and you pouted a bit, pushing out your bottom lip even though his eyes were closed. 
You maniacally rubbed your hand against his still half-hard cock and his grunted, grabbing your wrist quickly to stop you. “Bebe.” His tone had shifted to authoritarian fast and you let out a ‘hmph.’
“One more, papi, please. One more round and I’ll sleep like a baby.” You begged and his eyes opened as an amused grin fell on his full lips. “I promise.” You finished and he yanked one of your legs around his hips, burying his face into your neck. 
“I can’t so no to my precious girl.” he nipped as you giggled, and you both continued once more, before falling asleep. 
The next day, Miguel was exhausted. One more round turned into three more rounds and then sex on the bathroom floor, in his kitchen, and giving him head in his elevator. 
So you could say it was definitely worth it to him. 
You brought out a sexual prince in him, someone caring and full of sweet, buttery smooth words that made your panties a swimming pool in the middle of July. And he was always welcome to dive in. 
“Wow. That’s a new record.” Jess spoke and you looked around, confused. “The hickeys, I mean.” She points to your neck and you immediately close the mask of your suit to avoid her scrutiny any more. She laughed lightly, “don’t be like that, remember that I’m technically the one who led him to give you said hickeys.” She prompts and sits, leaning on your desk. “So I’m guessing it’s all going good?” 
“Better than good, Jess. He’s- he’s like a God in bed.” 
“Wow. He must really be into it.” 
“What do you mean?” You asked, now scrunching your brows together. 
“Well, listen- he’s an attractive guy, and you’re not the only person with eyes at the HQ. He’s slept with a few in the past before he met you, but it was always a one-and-done thing, so I’m just impressed that he’s opened up about what he’s into.” 
And then you sunk down in your seat. “What… he’s into?” You questioned. 
“Well, yeah. You two always do what you both want, right? He used to complain about how vanilla most people were, so you must be doing something right.” She stands again and walks off. 
Leaving you alone to your thoughts. What… he wanted? You assumed that he was into what you were into, since you’d found him jerking off to exactly the things you’d wanted to hear, especially after that song- 
The song!
Oh, Jess and her big mouth probably told him about your love for that song! You blushed in embarrassment as you thought about him submitting to what you wanted. 
You didn’t want him to only focus on your turn ons, you wanted compromise and to share his darker fantasies. Isn’t that what a relationship was? 
“Lyla,” you called out and found the little AI pop up in front of you. “I need to know what sexual interests Miguel has.” The orange hologram sputtered a cough for a second while you rolled your eyes at her overdramatic display. “Lyla, you don’t even breathe.” 
“If I did, I'd be gasping in shock and clutching my pearls.” She shot back and you just sighed in defeat. “Besides, those files aren’t accessible to just anyone. You need permission from Miguel or me.” She folded her arms.
“Wait- permission? Like… his passcode?” You blurted out with hopes and Lyla nodded. 
“Well, yes, but-“ 
“Thanks Lyla.” You cut her off and hurried to his office, ignoring the hologram calling back to you. Your steps finally made it to the dark office Miguel used, more like a workshop for a robotics technician, but you didn’t dare correct him when it came to the Society. 
“Miguelito?” You called out, testing out a theory. When silence was your only companion in the room, you smiled and continued your plans. 'Perfect!' You cheered to yourself and hopped to swing onto his platform. 
The screens were much higher than you could see or reach, so you jumped up to sit on his desk and tap along the floating screens. You found what you were looking for after a minute, being greeted by Lyla once more. 
“You know, he’ll be made when he finds out.” She announced and you shrugged. 
“Not if I put what I find to good use.” You answered and the AI pretended to wretch, feigning nausea. 
“Gross. Hold on, if it’s that important to you, I might be able to bypass the code. But I’ll deny ever being here if you throw me under the bus.” Lyla answered and tapped something, then letting you watch the code fill itself. 
“This is his porn history. He doesn’t know I can see it, and I’m happy he doesn’t because that conversation would be really weird.” She pops a few screens, but most of them are just… 
“Is this... my social media?” You wobbled on the desk for a second from leaning back in shock. 
“Yeah, it tends to get him going pretty easily. Sometimes he listens to certain music, too.” She adds and you look directly at her, making her sigh and hold her glasses in disappointment. “I hate that I’m enabling you.” 
“Don’t stop now.” You demand and she lets his playlist pop up, one titled after you. 
Most of the songs seem to be very lovey dovey- and that’s when you find it. 
“Nine inch nails…?” Your surprise was evident as you read the band name once more. “I listened to this band in high school.”
“So did he. Believe it or not, he was a little rebellious in high school. I think it was the daddy issues.” Lyla tapped the song and the strange sounds from the song played heavily. 
“Thanks Lyla!” You tapped her away and ran from his desk, trying to make it as though you had never been there. Your mistake. 
That night, you began playing the song while cooking and tried to focus on the lyrics. 
“You let me violate you 
You let me desecrate you 
You let me penetrate you 
You let me complicate you”
Your jaw dropped, listening to the words. Oh.
The song exuded dominance and power, something very Miguel. But you didn’t think he could be so… rough. Of course he could be rough, the man had fangs and claws, but you thought he was much more into sentimental experiences, making love and such. You didn't realize he wanted to fuck.
Pressing your palms flat into the counter, you'd long forgotten your meal when the chorus bursts through your speakers. 
“I wanna fuck you like an animal 
I wanna feel you from the inside 
I wanna fuck you like an animal 
My whole existence is flawed 
You get me closer to God”
Your knees became jelly as you imagined him saying thing these things to you, gravel voice smirking as you fall to the ground before him and worship him like he deserves- like he would demand. 
“you tear down my reason
(Help me) it's your sex I can smell 
(Help me) you make me perfect
Help me become somebody else”
You could feel the desperation in the reverb of the songs drums. It’s no wonder he always inhales so deeply when he eats you out, he’s letting his animalistic instincts take over. He’s technically part spider, which is inherently an animal. He literally needs to fuck you like an animal to feel his whole DNA’s satisfaction. 
“I wanna fuck you like an animal 
I wanna feel you from the inside 
I wanna fuck you like an animal 
My whole existence is flawed 
You get me closer to God”
You breath hitches and you hear the door close, your head shooting up as you can hear the sound of his boots coming closer, spider senses tingling from behind you. 
“So… the scent of your wet pussy was all over my desk when I got back from Peter's universe… want to tell me why?” He inquired and you wanted to answer, but the hand sliding up your body and the thoughts plaguing your mind from the still-playing song we’re holding your tongue hostage. “No answer? My good girl always answers me, what's wrong? His gentle kisses land on the slope of your neck and you give him more access by tilting your head.
“What if I don’t want to be a 'good girl' tonight? What if…” he freezes and starts to put everything together. You snuck into his office, this song, your pheromones filling the room. 
“What if what?” He growls and you practically cum at the sound of his aggravated voice hissing at you. 
“What if… I want you to do what the song says… and fuck me like an animal.” 
His brain drowns in conflicted emotions. He wants nothing more to practically maim your skin with his claws and teeth, fucking you so roughly that you beg him to stop and take a break, plead for him to breed you like a whore, to hear you crying from how hard he’s going, how bad it hurts and amazing it feels. He wants to see you wake up with a limp in your walk and a belly full of his potential children. 
But then he also doesn’t want to scare you away. He doesn’t want you to be forced to do those things just because you want him to finish, to feel satisfaction. He’s more than satisfied with you, loves the sex you two have, he doesn’t need-
The words fly through his head, but everything stops when you roughly grab his cock through his suit and get onto your knees before him. 
“Mi corazón… you don’t know what you’re asking for.” He encourages you to stand up again, to stop asking for this, but you bury your face into the fabric and breathe in deeply. 
“Please, I need it in my mouth. I want you to fuck my mouth.” You beg and who is he to deny such a gorgeous request when he can see your fat tits practically spilling from the keyhole of your spider suit from this angle. 
“Fuck. Fine.” He says through gritted teeth and yanks your head backwards by your hair, disabling his suit completely as his cock pops out and smacks you a bit. He likes the sounds, likes the view of his face smothering precum across your cheeks and lips. And he wants more. “You like the idea of me suffocating you on my cock, forcing myself down your throat for you to suck?” He slaps his hard dick across your face and because of the weight and width, it actually kinda stings. “That’s it, my little slut… so horny just for me, so hungry to take my dick.” He roughly grabs your face and forces your mouth open, smushing your cheeks in his large hands and tapping his tip on your tongue. “Open wide and stick out that tongue.” He commands and you comply, tongue out and mouth open for him. 
He slams into your mouth until you can’t take much more, still missing a few inches of him. “Relax your throat, or I’ll fuck it so hard that you’ll be forced to.” He threatens and you try to lessen your muscles tightening. Pulling your hair into his body until your nose is smashed against his pelvis, dark happy trail against your lips.
The gagging makes him practically cum then and there, but he won’t let this end just yet. No, he needs to enjoy this more. unbeknownst to him, you were on the verges of an orgasm just from him fucking into the back of your throat one time. You hand slides down to touch your clit and rub yourself in gentle circles.
Sliding out, he rams his cock back into your waiting cavern and begins a relentless speed, shoving himself further and further each time until he can see the bulge of his dick in your esophagus. His head falls back and his fingers tighten in your hair, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as he brutalizes your throat and refuses to stop. His hand pins your head between the countertop of the kitchen and his postponing hips, refusing to stop until he feels your nails on one hand digging into his thighs and making him almost cum. You groan on his dick and he realizes that sound, he knows that's a signal that you've just finished with your own hand. He yanks himself out and starts fisting his cock fast as you cough and gasp for air, tears still forming mascara tracks down your cheeks. 
He bends down and hurls you over his shoulder, then throwing you onto the ground of the living room and making you do a split on your back, blushing at how exposed he had you. Three sharp claws formed from his fingers and he shredded the hips of your suit, bending down to your tits and latching the top in his mouth so when he turned his head, the rip was loud and your nipples were open to the cold air. 
“You’re going to lay here and take my cock until the only words you know how to say are ‘Miguel please fuck me.’ And I’m not stopping until you pass out from exhaustion.” He declares and puts the tip of his dick in your entrance, not even wasting a second and thrusting into you completely, making a scream tear through your throat in pain as he once again found your hair and thrusted. The lack of accommodation made you tighter than you’d ever felt, jerking hips his harder as your hand fell onto his abs to push him away, hiccups coming from your lips as the pain begins to grow at how hard he could go. 
“That’s it, shut the fuck up and take this cock. Cry about it, try to get away, but I’ll pull you back and fuck. You. Harder.” He rammed his hips into yours to punctuate every word of the end of the sentence. “I’ll fuck you so hard, you won't be able to get up for work tomorrow.” He says as he pounds his tip into your cervix, most definitely bruised and possibly hurt worse. But god, did it feel good, watching him get so crazy, so psychotically obsessed with you. 
“Migu-el!” Your words get broken up with as I should have been gone. 
“That’s it, my little bitch in heat, I’ll fuck you so hard, your entire bottom half with be black and blue.” He grunted and groaned, starting to feel like an animal on the discovery channel, then bending down and biting into your skin hard. Blood drew at the little punctures and he continued to bite deep, painful marks all over, looking like you were stung by a bunch of bees. His hands slid up your back and you felt the claws in his fingers latch onto you, scrapping across your smooth body and forming bloodied lines and marks of what looked like pure aggression, but if only everyone who saw them knows… 
You were fucking loving this.
Your body looked like an anomaly mission gone wrong; dark, scattered bruises that looked like they’d take weeks to heal, punctures all over your body like you were a piece of cheese, and red scraps like you’d tumbled into a bed of razors. All done by Miguel and his primal needs, and you’d let him do it again and again as long as he used his cock to completely pummel your insides. 
“F-fuck me, please, Miguel…” you gasped and choked out as his eyes blared red like sirens on a cop car, heaving and large above you. You orgasm around him and he makes a sound as if he’s a roaring lion.
“That’s it, ask me to destroy this slutty pussy, to breed you, to own you.” His words come out in an octave you didn’t know he could reach and your back arches, keeping his dick in you as he flips you over. 
Like a battering ram in and out of your pussy, he holds your arms and yanks your body back and forth on his cock like his own life sized pocket pussy. “Perfect little cocksleeve, letting me use her body like a fuckin whore. Only mine, no one else can touch you, mine.” he grunts and growls as he attacks your back again, wet lines of him basically slobbering all over you like a dog. He humps into you at a dizzying speed and you cum again, the searing burn of a too-fast orgasm swimming through your belly as he smiles and ruts upward, bullying your g-spot more and more. 
“One more, you can do one more, right?” He insists and makes sharp, hard movements against that spot. You weep louder as the lewd sounds of your wet pussy sucking him in and milking him dry echo around the room. Miguel moves to web together your arms behind your back, holding them now with one hand and grasping the back of your neck like a handle with the other, smashing his hips into your suffocating insides. "I'm not asking, you will give me one more, I want to feel your cunt clamp down on me again and try to suck the cum out of my cock."
Everything becomes white noise as another painful and overwhelming orgasm wracks though your body, making you jerk and shutter wildly as he holds you in his control and rides you through it. 
“That’s it, you’re my fucktoy, my personal little cunt for me to ruin and get pregnant. Gonna be all knocked up, gonna let me cum in you and fill you up. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fuck this cunt for the rest of my fuckin life.” His words send him tumbling into his own climax, shooting his seed so deep inside you that you swear it’s gonna spill out of your mouth. Miguel’s dick is so deeply buried within you as he cums that your legs shake and the muscles cramp, dropping below him. You’re completely fucked out, everything feeling like an irritation to your bloody, bruised skin. 
And the look on Miguel’s face is heartbreaking once he looks at you. Yes, it makes his dick hard again, but it makes his mind unravel into panic. He needs to apologize. How could he mark you up like this, damage you like this? He never should have let go, never should have-
“Wanna go again?” You mumble out and give him a little smirk. And he completely malfunctions.
“You… enjoyed that?”
“Are you joking? That was the most amazing sex of my entire life. We can do the sweet sappy stuff I taught you some other time, now abuse my cunt with your cock again please.” You beg and Miguel thinks he’s gonna lose his mind. 
You will be the death of him, and as he plunges into your hole once more, propping a pillow under your hips, he thinks about what type of sex playlist you two are gonna make together.
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yandere-romanticaa · 2 months
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An idea that I really like is Ratio falling for someone who is his complete and total opposite in every way imaginable.
He is the kind of person that operates on pure cold logic and facts. He believes in what he sees in front of him with his own two eyes and yes, while it may be fascinating, perhaps even a little entertaining, to philosophize about various unimaginable concepts they are all indeed just that.
Concepts. Ideas. Things made up from the bottom of the bored human psyche.
Veritas Ratio is a man who is able to grasp many, dare he say, possibly every concept he has ever encountered. He loves a challenge but hardly anything is challenging to him because he is such a genius. He devours books that are over a thousand pages long, the most complicated equations of any science are finished by his hand with such ease that many people might mistake him for a machine rather than a man of flesh and blood.
That's what makes it so fun to see him fall for an airhead. A person who probably doesn't care, or doesn't have the mental capacity to care about such things. This person would rather spend their days dallying away, picking flowers, baking, just doing things that are so mundane and plain (to him). If they do decide to read, it is some trashy romance model, maybe even just straight up written porn if they're just that shameless.
And this is the person who has Ratio grabbing his head in frustration.
He's shaking with anger in his room, golden eyes wobbly as he watches you walk up and down the space ship. You got lost, again. How much of an imbecile are you? Do you truly need someone to guide you through everything? With a huff, the scientist grabs his head made of plaster and makes his exist. He puts the mask on and in no time finds you, all lost in the hallways. You hear his upcoming footsteps before you see him and once you turn around, you are greeted with that bizarre mask you've grown so accustomed to.
You greet the man cheerfully, to which he just huffs. With his arms crossed, Ratio gives you a long and detailed lesson on how you ought to be more careful and aware of your surroundings, that this kind of behavior will not be tolerated. You are not a child and should stop acting like one.
Tears swell in your eyes but none are shed as the two of you turn back, him being a few steps ahead of you. Two pairs of footprints sound incredibly loud in this long and dark corridor. Veritas hears you quietly weeping and he feels the slight inkling of guilt pulling his heartstrings.
... Perhaps he was a smidge too harsh with you.
You are a clueless creature, sure. But maybe, he sometimes reveled in that fact. It was wrong and he would never admit it out loud but his heart whispered it clearly to him - you like this.
Veritas watched you carefully through the reflection of the window, the plaster head concealing the expression on his face. With your lips in a full pout and eyes watery like fresh morning dew, he couldn't help but to be just slightly charmed.
He scoffed to himself as he pressed onwards. He figured he had better standards for himself but that was not the case, clearly.
And just like that, he had escorted you back to your room. He could hear you mumble out a quiet thank you, which he acknowledged with a polite nod with his head.
He's not that cruel. Or rude for that matter!
With the situation now swiftly dealt with, Ratio figured it was high time he went back to his studies. He has already wasted far too much precious time on this, he isn't even sure when he'll finish that -
His train of thought is broken when he feels a pair of arms gently embrace him from behind, the warmth welcoming and dare he say sweet.
Veritas stilled, his body like the statue which some saw him to be. You still could not see his face but his anger could still be felt.
"Just what do you think you are doing?" he spat at you, his tone cold but venomous.
He felt your face being pressed against his broad back, fat tears caking his fine clothing. Just as he was about to pry your hands off him, he heard you finally speak:
"Thank you for helping me. Really..."
Your tone was soft and remorseful. You did not want to disturb him but despite that, you did just that. He was willing to accept your apology and have this situation be over with but what you said next simply knocked all of the air out of his lungs.
"You see, I... I wasn't sure how I could get your attention. I just wanted you to notice me, to talk to me..."
.... Goodness.
He was used to people trying to get his attention but to act like such a pathetic damsel in distress was new. He had to give you credit for your creativity, at the very least.
"I want to be your friend. I also want you to teach me all sorts of things-"
Ratio stopped listening to you mid sentence, his mind running hundreds of laps in thought. Perhaps you weren't the idiot he saw you as. Your little ploy worked, clearly. And if he took you under his wing, who knew what would become of you.
He could turn you into a diamond with his own two hands.
It was embarrassing just how giddy the thought made him.
The shadows of curiosity and some other emotions took over his mind as he analyzed the situation. There really was no harm in taking you all for himself.
Besides, if you were capable of this deceitful plan, who knew what else you could do?
He was eager to find out.
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wileys-russo · 4 months
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bad mood blues II a.putellas x reader
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little jealous bf ale fluff based around this request here bad mood blues II a.putellas
you waved to the fans as you did a lap unable to keep the grin off your face, patri’s arm slung over your shoulder as ona was tucked into your other side.
“i do not think we will ever see her sad again after this, i think her face is broken.” ona teased squishing your face which as expected continued to break out into a beaming smile.
“scoring your first hat trick will do that to someone!” patri laughed, breaking away from you as fans screamed out her name and waved their jerseys in her direction.
“so amor, excited for the private celebrations with your lover?” ona teased quietly as you blushed bright red and smacked her on the shoulder.
“be quiet! people are very good at lip reading these days.” you warned with a scowl, having known the young spaniard for several years now playing a with her at united before being bought by barcelona once your contract was up.
it was safe to say the two of you were stuck to one another’s sides like glue the moment ona finally returned home, mapi often teasing the two of you were like siamese twins seperated at birth.
which of course prompted ona to tease about your lack of natural tan and english upbringing that it was an insult to her to be tied to you in such a way.
this was normally once you’d return from international or seasonal break, your barcelona tan fading within days of returning home to manchester.
though it was first through ona that you met alexia, yet another thing she was relentless to never let you live down.
it all started during the euros when ona had hung around waiting for you after england played spain, determined to swap shirts and introduce you to some of her friends.
that lead to an incredibly nervous you being all but kidnapped by the over confident defender and dragged with her toward the spanish locker room, digging your feet in the entire time until she pushed you through the door.
the room had fallen silent just for a split second and your eyes widened, trying to push past your friend and make a hasty exit but just as quickly as silence fell it seemed you were suddenly old news and everyone fell back into their conversations.
again dragged around by ona you stumbled through the basic spanish she’d taught you as she introduced you to a few of her teammates and friends, the last of all being alexia.
within the moment going toe to toe with the woman you’d just relentlessly humiliated by lobbing a ball through her legs to score the match winner was a daunting fate, which wasn’t helped by the steely calm nature of her demeanor and rather stern appearance.
her spanish was faster than most of the other girls and you needed ona to translate despite her repeatedly asking alexia just speak to you in english which she refused.
though despite her seeming disscontempt toward you, you’d found out mere months later that she was actually rather impressed, and within a few days of your move to barcelona was making more of an effort to befriend you and make sure you felt welcomed in than you’d expected.
though you suppose you could really put that down to ona calling up each and every single one of her national team mates and warning they look after you or else she’d be on the first plane over to sort them out.
needless to say long story short you and alexia had befriended one another, which after its run its course had quite quickly turned into a harboured crush that ona found endless pleasure to tease you for as you begged her over and over not to mention it to anyone.
she didn’t of course but with alexia having confided in mapi about her own feelings toward you, it didn’t take long for the scheming and the meddling to begin, and the rest was a story for another day.
“hey isn’t that-“ ona hadn’t even finished speaking before you spotted her, eyes widening as you raced over toward the barrier, your best friend shouldering her way to the front as politely as she could.
“rosie?!” your grin somehow widened to the point you were shocked your face hadn’t split in half, the taller girl hanging awkwardly down from the barricade as you wrapped her in a hug with a laugh of disbelief.
“surprise?” the brunette beamed, cheeks flushed as you opened and closed your mouth in surprise, a few fans around all calling out for your name. “how did you even-“ you trailed off still in shock at her sudden appearance.
“we were headed for portugal but a little birdy told me you were feeling a bit homesick and might benefit from a few more brits around!” the girl nodded over your shoulder as you glanced behind you to see keira send you a grin and a nod as you mouthed thank you and she waved you off turning back to her conversation with aitana and salma.
what you didn’t see was your girlfriends at first curious glance toward you, further away and not able to see who it was you were so seemingly enamoured with her brows furrowed into a frown as she crossed her arms over her chest.
much as she might deny it over and over you knew exactly the type of hot blooded woman alexia was, and that was the jealous type. she’d never assume poorly of you or your actions, she trusted you not to ever do anything.
but it was other people alexia didn’t trust, which wasn’t helped by the fact you were hopelessly oblivious when being flirted with, forever just brushing it off as people being nice.
alexia first and foremost knew of your inability to read people’s true intentions. considering it had taken her asking you out twice before you realised she meant as more than friends and apologised profusely for being so blind which really amused the catalan more than anything.
but now, now you were hers she didn’t find it quite so cute and amusing, in fact it was positively infuriating that you never seemed to catch onto peoples true intentions and it was something that caused more debates than alexia cared to rehash.
so with that in mind and her blood running even hotter than usual she’d busied herself with post match media duties before slinking off to the change rooms.
but a glance over her shoulder before she went only worsened her mood seeing that what felt like hours later you were still hung up on chatting with the mystery brunette who just couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off of you.
“duty calls superstar, i’m here with ben for another few days before we backpack to portugal. i promised id take him to dinner as penance for coming with me tonight but call me later and we can meet up properly tomorrow?” your best friend offered as the chants for your attention from fans grew and you nodded eagerly, kissing her cheek and dropping back down to the ground, the girl melting back into the ground as you started to make rounds signing things and taking photos.
still on cloud nine from your hat trick you stayed out longer than usual, reveling in your good mood as you made your way around to as many fans as you could. but with a wave from ona who'd ventured back out to remind you of the time you apologized and broke away, striding toward the tunnel.
"that was your best friend si? the one who has been travelling?" ona clarified as you nodded happily, launching into a recount of rosies nomad like life she loved, flitting from odd job to job living in vans, tents, share houses or hostels.
the girl had always been a free spirit and done her best to bring out the same in you all throughout high school where you'd met.
as soon as you both graduated, you moving into a full time football career and her to travel the world, you'd stayed close and made every effort to keep one another updated on your lives despite not seeing one another very often.
"does she know about..." ona made a face as you nodded. "yeah she does, not exactly who but she knows i'm seeing someone and i have no doubt she'll kick my door in if i don't bring ale with me when i see her." you chuckled as ona hummed with an amused smile, the two of you arriving to the change rooms which were rapidly emptying out.
"mario have you seen ale?" you frowned, unable to spot your girlfriend anywhere. "oh she left awhile ago amiga, seemed in a hurry." mariona smiled apologetically seeing you frown, thanking her.
"i'll drive you chica but be quick!" ona teased, referencing the way you used to infamously take the longest showers post game at united, though back then you drove yourself and it wasn't an issue.
alexia almost always driving you now you'd had an incentive and a reason to be fast not wanting to keep her waiting, something else ona was able to tease you for.
"gracias soldier." you kissed ona's cheek as she pulled up outside alexia's apartment complex, punching you lightly for the nickname as you grabbed your bag and waved her off.
unaware that anything was off you just assumed alexia forgot you would need a lift, having slept at your own place last night for the first time in days as alexia had an event, ona had picked you up this morning.
but the routine which existed between the two of you meant that after every match you wound up back at her place so you assumed tonight would be no different as you punched in her code and let yourself into the elevator.
you shifted your bag on your shoulder and knocked again when your girlfriend didn't answer the first time, settling as you heard her footsteps eventually sound from inside as the door swung open.
"were you asleep babe?" you laughed at her semi disheveled state, the older girl shrugging wordlessly as you stepped past her and made your way inside, more than comfortable in her place as she was in yours.
you didn't pick up on her mood right away, busying yourself changing into one of her hoodies as alexia settled herself on the lounge where she'd been prior to your arrival, already showered and changed herself.
"hola mi vida." you started to sense maybe something was off when you leant in for a kiss and your lips met her cheek, blanked as she tucked her knees up to her chest and crossed her arms, the closed off body language another tell tale sign of her bad mood.
trying to just chalk it up to tiredness post game you didn't mention anything, the taller girl fixated on a football match on the tv as you decided to make the two of you something to eat.
you glanced over to her every now and then, frown deepening when it seemed as if she barely noticed you were there.
normally alexia was all over you, especially after you'd played well, even if it was just as simple as the way she'd stick tightly to your back as you cooked.
but her arms never snuck around your waist, chin never rested on the top of your head, her lips never gently peppered your neck with soft kisses and so you began to wonder if perhaps you'd done something to upset her.
you tried to engage her in conversation but only receiving singular words or hums in response you abandoned that quickly. now quite certain she was upset about something whether it be with you or not.
almost finished cooking you wracked your brain for what you could have done to cause this, but even with all of your might you couldn't come up with anything.
the blonde had been fine with you prior to the game and at half time, stern captains persona dwindling for a moment as she mumbled into your hair how well you were playing and sneakily kissed you when it seemed no one was looking.
but now when it was her who could barely glance at you for more than a few seconds, everything suddenly felt very different.
dishing up two bowls you quickly rinsed things and left them in the sink to be washed later. despite the large dining room table in the middle of alexia's living room you don't think the two of you had eaten on it enough times for you to need two hands to count.
so handing her the bowl, a quiet thank you mumbled as again her eyes remained on the tv you settled in beside her, leaving a gap between the two of you which felt like it was miles long despite it really only being a few centimetres.
the two of you ate in silence, alexia finishing first as her bowl was placed on the coffee table as yours soon joined and you decided to address your worries.
"ale." you started softly, gently nudging her thigh with your knee as she hummed but otherwise remained quiet. "is something wrong baby?" you asked cautiously, a shake of her head all you got in return.
"okay. because it seems like you're upset about something and if i've done anything can we please talk about it?" you requested, messing about with your fingers in your lap. "i am not upset amor." alexia replied quietly and your tension melted a tiny bit hearing the nickname but still she would not meet your eye.
you accepted her words at first, grabbing your bowls and heading back to the kitchen to wash up. once again most times you even tried your girlfriend was there in a second, lifting you up to sit on the counter and refusing to let you help.
but just like when you cooked she remained on the sofa engrossed in the football, only getting up to use the bathroom as you finished and returned by her side.
the alarm bells sounded once more when you grabbed her arm and tried to tuck into her side. the blonde gently pushed you back, mumbling about wanting a little space in spanish making you frown.
"alexia." you sighed, patience wearing thin as she hummed. "alexia!" you spoke a lot firmer now, standing to move and block her eyeline toward the tv with a frown.
"mi amor i can tell you are upset. please stop being so stubborn and tell me whats wrong so we can talk about it!" you ordered, crossing your arms and shuffling side to side as she tried to crane her neck to see past you.
"alexia!" you groaned at the silence that followed, the blonde stretching out down the sofa with a shrug, hands folded behind her head. "why are you being like this?" you asked again, tone softening a little as the insecurity started to creep through that you'd done something.
"i am not being like anything." "exactly! you're ignoring me, you're being moody-" "you did not seem to care when you were with her."
it was mumbled so quietly you almost missed it, but you didn't and then suddenly everything made sense, blocks falling into place as your worries melted away and a smile curled onto your lips.
"oh my god. you're jealous!" you laughed, which was probably the wrong response as your girlfriend gave you a glare and halfheartedly kicked you, ordering you to move out of her way as she was missing the game.
"ale, angel." you started, wrenching her arms away from where they were crossed tightly over her chest, settling your body on top of her. "why are you jealous mm?" you smiled, hands falling to clasp her cheeks, turning her head and forcing her to look at you.
"who was that girl? the one you hugged for a very long time." alexia countered with a question of her own, hands moving to grip your hips. "my other girlfriend." you answered casually, alexias fingers digging into the soft skin of your sides warning you against teasing.
"dios mio ale. that was my best friend, rosie. the one who is always travelling! she is on her way to portugal with her fiance and dropped in to see me." you smiled, thumbs tracing the sharp lines of her jawline.
only receiving a hum in response you rolled your eyes, growing tired of her moody behavior. "how many times-" you dipped your head and placed a kiss to the collumn of her throat. "-do i have to assure you-" the next ones were either side of her neck.
"-that the only person i have eyes for-" now a kiss just beneath her ear, teeth tugging teasingly at the lobe. "-is you." you kissed her nose, smiling softly.
"you are not the problem, it is other people i do not trust."
"you think my best friend is going to pull a move on me? mi vida i know you are a jealous woman but that is something else." you grinned, alexia's frown melting into a slight pout as she huffed.
"not what i meant!" "no but you are being moody for no reason."
"you know i scored all those goals for you today baby, nobody else." you mumbled, kissing all over her face and purposefully avoiding her lips as her pout grew a little with each one.
"you missed." alexia demanded, her own hands now moving to grab your face halting the treasure map your lips were creating along her skin. "oh lo siento mi amor." you nodded understandingly, leaning in as if to kiss her but moving so your lips pressed against her temple.
"hey!" alexia exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing making you grin. "i love you, only you. silly stubborn jealous idiot!" you teased, pecking her lips repeatedly in between each word.
"next time, talk to me amor. don't just be a big moody baby!" you cooed pinching her cheeks, squealing as suddenly you were beneath her, the older girl effortlessly swapping your positions now hovering over you.
"mi amor, mi vida, mi novia, mi corazón-" alexia pressed her lips against yours after each word, clearly making a point as her legs tangled with yours and her fingers interlocked pinning your hands either side of your head.
"-mi cariño, mi niña bonita, mi preciosa, mine." alexia rasped, finally kissing you properly as you shifted beneath her, her tongue slipping in and filthily roaming your mouth as you withheld the urge to moan.
the catalan pulling away both of your chests heaved and her thumb traced your bottom lip, tugging on it slightly as her soft hazel eyes roamed over every single inch of your face.
"mine." she whispered again, kissing you gently and letting go of your hands. her own slipping up the inside of your top you sighed contently, lips moving to your neck as her nose knocked against your jaw encouraging your head turn to give her more access.
"now bebita i think i have some goals to reward you for, no?"
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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months
Text
yandere!emperor with empress!reader scenario
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warnings: infidelity, obsessive behavior, blackmail, non-con, regicide.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!
Hey guys, welcome to my first yandere fic! Before we dive in, I want to let you know a couple of things; firstly, this is not the prologue of a series and never will be one because I simply do not have the time right now. It is a scenario, a prompt, that was inspired by the Fallen Kingdom series created by @cassanderasblog. I will leave a link to their work here. I credit them for giving me inspiration and being honest in their feedback when I showed them the initial draft. Credit also goes to @faux-ecrivain for helping finish a difficult scene.
Finally, please do not comment on here if you wish to harass me in some shape or form. I do and will not tolerate bullying. As the saying goes, "If you have nothing nice to say, don't say it at all." If it does happen, however, I will have no choice but to remove this scenario as soon as possible.
So, with that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy :)
Yandere!Emperor had despised you with his heart and soul. The only reason he had allowed the marriage to even happen was to solidify the alliance between his nation and yours. He did not love you. The woman who held his heart, the one whom he trusted above everyone else in the world is Tatiana Adreeva. His mistress. A beautiful flower that should never be polluted by the nobles who dare to not allow her to become the Empress simply because she lacked the status equal to his own prior to ascension. You did. 
Yandere!Emperor did not lay a hand on you after the vows had been exchanged in the temple. He did not seek out your company, preferring to seek comfort in Tati’s bed and her arms. He had his crown, his woman, and allocated more power through his marriage with you. It was nothing personal. He simply did what he had to do so that his Empire would continue to prosper. 
Yandere!Emperor would not tolerate any rudeness targeted toward his lover, even if you had not uttered a single word to her at all or raised your hand against her.
 To him, ignoring her when she greeted you was enough to earn a lengthy lecture from him. 
But you did not cling to him or beg for mercy, as he thought you would do, or any other self-respecting maiden who did not want to anger her husband. You coldly stared at him with that, silent as the grave until he dismissed you from his office. Out of spite, he had his aide add more documents to your desk for the next month even when the work was not part of the Empress’ official duties. 
To his joy, Tatiana became pregnant with his child, his heir. Being by her side was suddenly all that mattered to Yandere!Emperor. His overprotective streak and ill temperament increased over time. He would lash out at you for the smallest of incidents, even if it was not your fault. And like before, you did not react to his words and continued with your life. 
Like what happens to him or with his mistress is none of your concern unless it is associated with the Empire and the citizens. As it should be. He did not marry you out of love. 
When the child was born, a healthy baby boy christened Nikolov, Yandere!Emperor held a banquet and invited ambassadors from neighboring kingdoms to celebrate. But it was on this day….that he knew the truth. 
Once he had made the necessary greetings and made sure the captain of the guards would immediately report anything suspicious or if Tati and Nikolov were in any danger, Yandere!Emperor retreated to his office. He looked over the stack of documents on his desk, trying to lessen his workload in the morning so that he could spend time with his Tati and his son.
Upon hearing a knock at the door, he did not look up from the outline of a treaty as he allowed the third person to enter his office without cutting off their fingers. His mistress, the head butler, and his advisor. Tati’s older brother, Marquis Aizel Adreeva. Yandere!Emperor had bought the highest status that he could give to his mistress’ family after receiving positive confirmation that Tati was truly pregnant and not a misdiagnosis.
Aizel smiled, closing the door behind him with his foot as he set down a tray, placing two silver goblets and a bottle of wine on the corner of his desk. He spoke softly, congratulating Yandere!Emperor on finally having an heir and making his sister the happiest woman in the world. He poured the wine into the goblets. He held one in his hand, and extended his other hand to the Glorious Son, Blessed by the Five Gods.
Yandere!Emperor smiled, taking the offered drink. They raised their goblets high in the air, and drank. Yet when Yandere!Emperor looked at Aizel…his merry smile was not right. Not the kind of joy that a new uncle would express at a nationwide celebration. It was tighter, almost anticipating something…to happen.
That was when he realized the wine tasted bitter. That was when the room began to spin, and it felt like his skull being split in half. Poison. He had been betrayed. Yandere!Emperor grunted, trying to steady himself against the desk when Aizel walked around the wooden structure and had the audacity to push him back into the leather chair.
“Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Emperor.” Aizel chastised, his amber orbs glowing with delight. “Not going to lie, I did not think the wine would accelerate the poison as quickly I had thought, but that works for me!”
Yandere!Emperor felt a rock plummet into the pit of his stomach at Aizel’s words. “You…did this?” He gurgled. “I thought…the Empress -”
“And deny me the opportunity to see the look on your face, choking on your blood? Absolutely not. Dear, sweet [First Name] would never have done this to you. You might not have loved her, but she did respect you.” Aizel shrugged. "If Tati were in her shoes, I reckon things would not have gone as smoothly as they have." He said casually, as if he were talking about the weather and not informally speaking to the most powerful man in the Empire. 
“I only have ten minutes before I must return to the party, so I will do the honor of answering your unspoken questions. Now, where should I start? Oh, right. Why? Why did I do this when I love you like a brother? When have you treated my sister and I with nothing but kindness and respect, providing support whenever we are troubled, mentally, physically, and finanically? Well, the answer is really, really simple: I don’t. I tolerated you. I respected you. But never once did I feel any affection towards you.” His smile widened. “The one who deserves to stand by Tati's side is the Rapid Dog of The Northern Border, my brother-in-arms. Remember him? He was engaged to Tati. The man she should have married, should have been the father of my nephew. But you had the engagement annulled because she had said a few nice words to you. You threatened to seize my family’s home unless she came to the palace as your mistress? Do you remember? Why do I even bother asking? You’re going to die anyway, and we will finally be free from this gilded cage. Seven years. Seven long, agonizing years of watching my sister playing the gentle, loving role of a besotted mistress when all she really wanted to do was slit your throat. I thought about that every day too, you know? Well, almost. I actually felt sorry for the Empress, you know. She didn’t deserve to have a husband who neglected his duties and blamed everything on the one person who kept the gears in this Empire going, until now.”
“E-Empress -”
“Had an assassin give her a clean, painless death. Made it look like an accident, and he delivered! That’s very impressive for an underground guild, you know. Investment was worth it.” Aizel giggled.
“Now, it’s time to let everyone know their beloved Emperor has retired for the evening and call it a night. Big changes are coming. Pity you won’t see it. Don’t worry though, I won’t kill Nikki. I do love him…and he will never know that his true father is a tyrannical piece of shit who died in his own pool of blood because he allowed love to muddle his mind when he should have put the country’s well being above all else. Farewell, Emperor Aleksander of the Moldova Empire. From the ashes of corruption, a new country shall be born. And my nephew will rule over it in his father’s stead once he is ready. The father he should have had and not the one who brought him into this world, Duke Matthias Starkov.” 
When he awakened, Yandere!Emperor realized he was no longer on the floor. He could breathe and he could see in the mirror that hung across the room that he looked younger again. He asked, no, demanded, a quivering servant  to tell him what the year and date were, now. It was The Year of the Moon, ----.  As the crown prince of the Moldova Empire, it is his duty to select a candidate to become his crown princess, his future Empress who would rule beside him when he ascended as the Emperor. His father, the current Emperor, is growing impatient with his sixteen-year-old son and annoyed that he is still fawning over the marquis’ daughter, Tatiana Adreeva, a woman who was already engaged to a duke. 
“Bring me the list, no, tell Josef to bring it to my office immediately. I will be there shortly.” Yandere!Emperor had never pushed the servants to dress him quickly as he did at this moment. He did not know how or why, but he had returned to the past, right when he had seen Tatiana for the first time. Seven years into the past, before Aizel had poisoned him and killed his Empress. 
Sure enough, he saw his Empress’ name on the list, five down from the most qualified and right in the middle of the lengthy parchment.  [First Name] [Last Name], born to the Republic of Greiran, the Prime Minister’s only daughter.
They are Moldova’s closest neighbor and primary source of spices and various crops that are able to thrive in the harshest of weather conditions. Rumor had it that the Prime Minister himself was the one who had collaborated with the magician’s tower on this project, saving thousands of lives from suffering another winter and no harvest after the king had collapsed from a broken heart, having lost his queen after she had given birth to the crown prince.
 That connection to the magician’s tower was the only reason Yandere!Emperor had married his Empress. Access to more magical resources than the ones in the Moldova Empire, enabling the creation of magical weapons and protecting the borders around enemy nations. And yet he still died like a damned dog, blind to the respect and admiration his Empress held for him in favor of  receiving love from his murderer. But not this time. This time….he will set things right. 
He will not get involved with Tatiana Adreeva. 
He will ascend to the throne as he is supposed to.
He will be devoted only to [First Name], never taking a mistress even if the aristocracy begged him. Even if their marriage is only on paper, and she never looks at him as a man and only as an Emperor. 
He will learn everything there is to know about his future Empress, and he will never let her go. 
Taglist
@impeakcharacterdesign
@ceeesxy-blog
@mitra555
@mooly-artistic
@lxdymoon0357
@xiaopleasecomehome
@lovely-nightmares
@aurora-rose-miller
@swallowtailcherry
@justcressida
@faux-ecrivain
@yandere-dark-cupid
@likesugarandcyanide
@angelltheninth
@kanroji-san
@suiana
@swallowtailcherry
©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2023
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obliviouscxnt · 4 months
Text
Control Azriel x Reader
a/n: I'm so lost, i don't know what I'm doing. Still learning how to use tumblr but in the meantime, welcome to the first fic i feel like posting.
synopsis: feyre's growing curiosity about you sparks some personal questions.
Warnings: mentioned SA, fluff, hints of sexual activities
pt.2 | pt.3
One of the first friends Feyre made in the Night Court was you. You reminded her of the twin wraiths in a way. Never saying much, if anything at all. Maybe that was one of the reasons she liked you so much. 
You didn’t need to talk to enjoy each other’s presence. Feyre had as much fun sitting in silence with you as she did on a night out with Mor. 
But as time passed, as Feyre became a constant in the Night Court, she had grown curious. She wanted to know more about you like she did the others. 
So she started asking you questions, and to her surprise, you would answer her. Your answers weren’t clipped, or vague. You never sounded annoyed with her, you were completely open and honest with her. 
“How long have you known everyone?” Feyre had asked while you gently played with her hair, her scalp tingling at your touch. 
You thought about it for a moment. “Over two hundred years now.” 
She tilts her head, so apart from her you were the newest member of the inner circle. “How did you meet?” She asks, shivering as the tingles travel down her spine.
You start braiding a few small strands from the front of her face as you speak. “My kind are far different from other Fae.” Feyre practically perks up at the words. She knew you weren’t high fae but she never bothered saying anything about it, she barely even noticed it most of the time not nearly enough to warrant a discussion. “They hail from no court, and bow to no lord, not even the Mother is with their thoughts.”
Feyre tried to imagine what that would be like, how they would act, what traditions they’d carry. She thought of your features, the ones that stood out among other high fae. Your ears didn’t point, your nails were like claws, and your teeth bore long sharp canines on both the top and bottom of your mouth, but the features that stood out the most were the ones you kept hidden. 
Feyre saw them once, your wings. The first time she met you. Like they were just there for a formal introduction. They were big, beautiful, and intricate. They looked like moth wings, and fluttered like them too. Opening and closing slowly when you were lax.
Immediately when Feyre saw them, she felt like painting again, she could barely keep her eyes off them, barely keep herself from reaching out a hand to touch them. Maybe that was the reason for their absence in the next visit; all that remained of the glorious appendages was precise ink that lined the whole of your back, a tattoo of folded wings. 
From the way they folded, they almost formed a natural cape. She wondered how far your tattoo ran, the extravagant fabrics of the dresses you wore only showed so much. 
She pictured a whole colony of people that looked like you and immediately felt like painting again.
“It’s why nobody can do anything about their backward ways, they listen to nobody but themselves. Believe no one but themselves.” All preconceived thoughts of your people turn sour with your words. 
“The things they’ve done, they still do…” You release a shaky breath as you finish the small braids and set them aside.
Feyre turns to look at you when your delicate hands part with her hair. She finds you sorting through a box of hair ornaments, but your eyes are clouded. Not even the most glorious of diamonds could shine through that fog. “You don’t have to...“ 
You blink out of your daze and wave her off as you pull out a few gem-encrusted pins and show them to her. Waiting for her to give you a nod of approval before pulling out a stunning bejeweled silver comb and repeating the same process. Your collection was truly marvelous. 
“When I was saved, it was my first Flowering Night.” You spoke the words with barely concealed bitterness. “A night where all mature unpaired females are sent into the woods for any participating males to hunt down and take as they please.” 
You tuck back the small braids with the sparkling pins. Feyre listened as you continued, she wanted to say something but what would she say?
“No one could run very far from our community, the woods of the Middle hold no mercy. It was either hide and hope you make it till dawn without being spotted by a male. Or die to the other horrid creatures that live in those woods.” 
Feyre’s heart ached for you, her sorrow a tangible thing able to be smelt in the air. And you squeezed her shoulder, you comforted her. Her sorrow only increased. You never deserved any of it.
“I chose the latter.” You carefully place the comb into her hair, finding it in yourself to smile at the final product. You still fiddle with a few strands until you feel pleased. “A close encounter with death led to the discovery of my gift,” 
Dreamwalker, Rhys had called you.  An ability so rare even Helion’s exquisite library had very little information on it. 
Feyre loosely understood that you could enter another person's dream. Could manipulate it as you wish, to serenity or to a blood-curdling nightmare. But what made you so powerful, what made you such a valuable asset to the Night Court was your ability to bring dreams to life. All manner of dreams. 
However, your ability was sparsely used for court matters, and only necessary people knew of it. You were their trump card. Something nobody would see coming. 
Feyre would never forget the time you had a nightmare, sending half the court in preparation for battle. She’d also never forget the way Azriel had fought off the nightmare incarnate to get to you. How he charged forward without an ounce of hesitation. While Rhys had stood protectively in front of Feyre, and Cassian’s siphons flared from beside her, providing a shield around them.
Feyre had realized then that Azriel would go to hell and back for you. 
Feyre turns to face you, to look you in your enchanting eyes now that you are finished playing with her hair. “I was barely a woman, I didn’t know the first thing about defending myself. I didn’t know what this gift was.” She watched you raise a hand, small stars forming and trailing your fingers, blinking and shimmering as you played with them. “What good is a gift this powerful if you don’t know what to do with it? It’s as good as a broken blade.” 
Feyre’s breath leaves her body when you pull down the shoulder of your elegant emerald gown, revealing a long jagged scar running diagonally across your chest. The skin puffed up from how deep the gash was. “I would’ve died if it weren’t for Azriel.” 
The high fae’s eyebrows raise ever so slightly. 
“He heard me screaming. And he came for me.” You pull the shoulder back up and smile. Actually, smile. Feyre had never known someone like you, someone able to flip such a horrid memory around. Someone so able to pick out the good amongst the bad. “It wasn’t until a century later that I finally accepted his invitation to the Night Court and met everyone else.”
Feyre found herself grabbing your hand and squeezing. So grateful you had accepted his invitation. 
You squeeze back. 
“You’re so strong.” Feyre says, furrowing her brows when you laugh like she had told a joke. 
“It wasn’t strength that led me here, Feyre.” You tell her. Once again she wanted to paint you, but she felt like she wouldn’t be able to do you justice. “It was fate.”
A knock sounds at the door. 
“Come in.” Feyre calls and you both look to the opening door. Two incredibly attractive Illyrian men stand at the doorway. 
Rhys smiles at the sight of you two, eyes raking over the hairstyle you’d given Feyre. “You look lovely, Feyre darling.” Her face heats as you smile in triumph. 
“Say goodnight.” Comes Azriel’s voice in that tone he only used on you. 
You obey his command without a second thought, giving Feyre a light hug and giving Rhys a small bow before scurrying toward Azriel’s waiting arm. 
You fall into step with him as his hand lands on your lower back. But before the two of you could disappear you tug on his shirt, prompting him to stop only long enough for you to turn back toward Feyre and say a final goodnight. “Dream well Feyre!” Then he continued leading you away to your shared chambers. 
The mated pair watch you two travel away. Rhys with a look of content for you and his brother. Feyre with a new curiosity. 
She couldn’t help but be curious about the dynamic you and Azriel had. The way that dynamic bled into the interactions you had with your friends. How you always asked for permission before doing something and always jumped up whenever anyone asked you to do something. Rhys seemed to catch on to that curiosity. 
He decided to save you the embarrassment of Feyre asking you herself. He had enough of an understanding of you to know when something would make you uncomfortable, no matter how much you said otherwise. 
You’d always answer any questions asked of you openly and honestly, whether you wanted to or not. It was one of the reasons many were at first against your visits with Feyre, himself included. The newly turned fae was far too oblivious to your situation to recognize when she was taking advantage of your obedience. But you assured Rhysand repeatedly that Feyre never bothered you with her questions. That you enjoyed her presence just as much as she, hopefully, enjoyed yours. 
Much to everyone’s delight, Feyre regarded you with gentleness and awe from the very start. It was the effect you had on people. It was the reason Azriel didn’t put up a fight about leaving your visits unsupervised.
“[name] was raised by cruel people, they taught her that in a relationship the male's word is law. Her people think a female is expected to give up any and all control to her male. It’s one of the few things she never was able to condition herself out of, Azriel helps her by providing that control she needs.” 
Feyre thinks about that, face heating at the images it created. She wondered what that would be like, to surrender herself completely. “So if he told her to jump off the nearest bridge…?” 
“She’d do it, with zero hesitation.” 
Rhys smirks, knowing glint in his eyes as his gaze runs over the blush that coated her face. 
“But he’d never ask something like that of her. He knows her inside out, knows when something is too much or not enough.” He steps closer to her, delighting in the way her breathing picks up. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think your interest in this topic was more than innocent curiosity.” 
“Well, do you?” Feyre asks, making his eyes narrow. “Know any better?” 
Rhys’s gaze becomes dark. “Nope.” 
****
“Did you enjoy your time with Feyre?” You sigh at his voice, the comfort it brings you. You find yourself leaning into him, and he allows it. 
“It was nice.” You say truly. It felt like it was easier to breathe now that Feyre had more of an understanding. “She asked about how we met.” 
The hand on your back pulls you closer to him as if he were remembering that day. Remembering what you looked like as that hideous creature held you down, slicing into you. The way you flinched away from him after he’d slayed the creature. The sheer dress that you wore, If it could even be called that. He could still picture everything so vividly. 
How you eventually submitted to him, and how that made him sick. How he carried you out of the Middle and into the lands of the Night Court, never taking you into the cities. How for the next century after that he would visit you at the little private cabin only he and his brothers knew about, how he took care of you, and how he grew to love you. How you grew to love him in return.
He shoves those thoughts into the back of his mind as he opens the door to your shared chambers, walking you inside before shutting the door behind you. 
His hands move to your shoulders while he guides you to sit on the edge of the large bed, big enough to fit at least three winged beings. Hands brushing down your body as he kneels before you, settling on your ankle. He brings your foot up and rests it on his thigh before slowly unraveling the straps of your heel. Once finished he continued with the right heel, his touch nothing but confident from years and years of practice. 
A hand pats your thigh, letting you know he’s finished. Your eyes trail him as he heads toward the bathroom, you’d be happy to just look at him for the rest of your immortal life. 
You help Azriel, though he had no problem doing it for you, by taking off your jewelry one by one, setting each extravagant piece on the nightstand. By the time you're done Azriel’s waiting for you next to a full bath.
“Come.” He beckons from beside the large clawfoot tub. Hand outstretched and waiting for you. 
You saunter toward him, sighing as you let your brain just rest. Let him do everything for you. 
His hands are strong, and gentle, and secure all in one as they guide you out of your gown, his clothes following not long after. You sigh as he brings you into the tub. Positioning you so you sat between his legs, back to his front. 
Your eyelids slowly fall shut, coaxed by his soothing touch. Feeling nothing but content when he pushed your head back to lay on his shoulder, a gentle kiss pressed against your temple.
You were soon in a state of barely there, just teetering on the side of sleep but awake enough to move when he told you to. 
“Lean forward.”
His hands rub up and down your back, cleaning and massaging the skin there. You shudder in pleasure and he hums soothingly. Like cooing at a pet. You straighten up a bit when he taps the marked skin a few times, moving forward just enough for your wings to slowly peel away from your back. What was once ink on your skin, now real moving wings. 
“Spread.” And you do so, wings unfolding and stretching out completely. 
You shiver as his hands brush against them, making them twitch both away and toward him. As if they couldn’t decide whether the feeling it brought you was too much or not enough.
As always Azriel handled them with utmost care, humming when small noises of pleasure escaped you. When he was finished he tapped your shoulder to let you know, but you were too tired to summon the magic needed to conceal them.
Though, not tired enough to remember it was his turn. 
Slowly with lethargic movements, you turn to face him. Wings folding up again, forming a natural cape on your back. “Can I-“ You begin but catch yourself before you can finish. His narrowed eyes crinkled into a smile. Happy he no longer had to remind you of such a simple fact. 
Don’t ask to touch what is yours.
So instead you reach for the soap in his hands and begin to wash him. Taking satisfaction in the way his wound-up muscles, tense from hours of work, relaxed under your touch. The way his hands rested on your hips, squeezing every now and then appreciatively. The hums that left his mouth, no longer with the intent to soothe you but to let you know how pleased you made him. 
Your touches became increasingly distracted, sleep slowly leaving your system as your mind filled with nothing but him. 
He smirks, a mix of amusement and attraction. Allowing his own touches to become less innocent. His hands move to wrap around your wrists, dragging your hands down, down, and down his body. Soap long ago discarded. 
“Touch me.” He commands. 
And nothing could keep you from satisfying him. 
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