#hello i wrote another fic *dances*

[monzabee]

déjà vu (beyoncé’s version) – ln4

masterlist

Summary: The one where a bad prank leads to you and Lando exploring an option you thought was not an option.

Pairing: lando norris x bestfriend!reader (nicknamed Tink)

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut elements but no actual smut, cursing, pining and of course fluff!

Request: “Haiiii. I love your style of writing Lando and feel like you would 100% do a request justice to scratch the itch in my brain Reader and him have been childhood friends, mutual pining with some sexual tension but never crossed lines other than a new years kiss with friends etc. So reader ends up training and qualifying as a physio/masseuse and travelling with Lando bc fun besties on tour together yay! Thinking she ends up getting to know his body really well from that and has to massage some intimate area- tension builds blah. They have a cosy night in together after front row quali to prep for the race, face masks cuddles bc really physically comfortable together and then some confessions happen. After this going out to celebrate home race (not jinxing tomorrow!!) and reader ends up dancing with another driver, Lando gets jealous fully opens up and they go home together (as much detail on that as you feel comfortable with) No probs if it’s something you don’t feel inspired to write! Pls continue writing whatever you love because I love to read your stuff!!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! am i back after a literal month of no fics?? i hope so!! thank you so much for being patient with me you guysi i appreciate it, and i just want to say that this was the first time i wrote for lando (and you can definitely thank @userlando and her lando brainrot posts for that) and i’m kind of obsessed!! so as always, thank you to the anon for the request, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Being friends with Lando has resulted in both of you getting in trouble way too many times, you realise. The most recent case? The both of you ended up in a supply closet nearby the Aston Martin hospitality, hiding from a very, very, angry Spaniard. The close proximity and the limited space wouldn’t have been a big issue, for if Lando wasn’t looking at you with that look in his eyes. Under normal other circumstances, your reaction would’ve been much more different to the one you give him now – which is a glare that shows him you are not happy with the situation the both of you are in.

You’re about to scold him, but the words on your tongue quickly die as he presses his index finger to your lips. “I know you’re about to yell at me,” he whispers as he tries to keep his voice as low as possible, “but I really don’t want to be found right now.”

“Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before, you bloody idiot.” You hiss while slapping his hand away, which wins you a mock pout in return. “Why would you play that song every time he walked into a room?”

“It’s his name,” Lando tries to reason, “I thought he’d be used to it by now!”

Here’s the sitch. Lando, being the absolute prankster he is, decided to play ‘Fernando’ every time his former teammate entered into a room that morning – which resulted in the Spaniard becoming more and more annoyed with him until he snapped and Lando had to find himself a hiding place. How did you get roped into this, you may ask? You have absolutely no idea, other than your best friend dragging you into a nearby storage closet as you were walking back to the McLaren hospitality after meeting up with some of your friends for a cup of coffee. And now? The two of you are stuck inside a closet which is obviously too small for you both, and Lando has to bend his neck in an uncomfortable position.

“Lando,” you whisper in an attempt to keep your voice down, “don’t bend your head like that, you’ll strain something.”

“Well it’s not exactly comfortable, Tink.” He grimaces as one of the shelves hit his neck, which causes him to let out a low groan.

Ignoring the nickname he’s used for years, you motion him to move lower. “Just– let me see, okay?”

He begrudgingly nods as he bends his body towards you to accommodate you. You let your fingers run across his skin to find any knots along his shoulders. He lets out another low groan, but this one is more appreciative as you work some of the knots your fingers end up finding.

You watch as Lando’s expression changes from painful discomfort to relief as your fingers work their magic on his tense muscles. For a brief moment, it's just the two of you in the confined space, and you almost get lost in the comfortable silence. “Feels good,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I swear you have magic hands or something.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, “I just know your body, Lando.” After realising the words that come out of your mouth, your face flushes with embarrassment at the unintended implication of your words and you scramble to add, “Not like that, I didn’t mean–”

He smirks playfully, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, really? My body, huh? You think about my body often?” he teases, his hands squeezing your waist – and being lost in the moment, you don’t even know how they ended up there.

Your cheeks grow even hotter, and you feel your heart rate quicken. “No, that's not what I meant,” you stammer, trying to regain your composure, “and you know it’s basically my job to think about, you know?”

The mischievous glint in his eyes shine brightly as he decides to play dumb, “To think about what, baby?”

Your heart skips a beat at his teasing, and you can't help but let out a small laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Don't be ridiculous, Lando,” you retort, trying to act cool despite the butterflies in your stomach. “I meant knowing your body like an expert, considering the fact that you pull a muscle every time you decide to do a physical activity.”

He chuckles, and his hands, still resting on your waist, give you a playful squeeze. "Sure, sure, Tink," he replies, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "But let's be honest, it's not just my body you know well. You practically read my mind too."

You roll your eyes, trying to playfully push him away. "Oh, please. You're not that hard to figure out."

Lando leans in a little closer, his grin still evident. "Is that so? Then tell me, oh expert of Lando Norris, what am I thinking right now?"

You raise an eyebrow, not falling for his trick. "You're probably thinking that you got away with the Fernando prank and now you owe me big time, your brain is empty most of the time."

He smirks, impressed by your response. "You're good, Tink. But you're right, I do owe you one. What can I do to make it up to you?"

You pause, the closeness between the two of you making it difficult to think clearly. "Well, for starters, maybe you can stop dragging me into your pranks and getting us into trouble," you suggest with a hint of a smile. “And I don’t know, maybe take pole for me, you know?”

As the playful banter continues, you both seem to forget about the predicament you're in. The confined space of the closet no longer feels suffocating; instead, it becomes a haven for shared laughter and camaraderie.

Just as the two of you are lost in the moment, the closet door suddenly opens, and you both freeze. The angry Spaniard stands before you once again, but this time, his expression has softened, seeing you and Lando in a surprisingly intimate moment.

"Am I interrupting something?" Fernando asks, his tone amused.

Your face turns beet red, and Lando lets out a nervous chuckle. "Oh, hey there. Just having a chat, you know."

But Fernando raises an eyebrow, still looking amused. "In a supply closet?"

You and Lando exchange a sheepish glance, realizing how the situation must appear to Fernando. "Well, we kind of got caught up in the moment," you admit, hoping he doesn't read too much into it.

Fernando chuckles, and there's a warm glint in his eyes. "I see. Well, it's none of my business, but you might want to find a less cramped place to chat next time."

You nod in agreement, grateful that Fernando seems to be taking the situation lightly. "You're right. We'll keep that in mind," you say, trying to sound casual.

Lando adds with a grin, "Yeah, and we promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on." But he’s quick to correct himself when you give him a glare, “I promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on."

Fernando chuckles again, seemingly amused by the whole ordeal. "I'd appreciate that. Anyway, carry on. I won't keep you two any longer."

As he walks away, you let out a sigh of relief. "That could have been a lot worse," you say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

"Yeah, we got lucky," Lando agrees, giving you a playful nudge. "But you know what they say, Tink, nothing like a bit of closet bonding to strengthen a friendship."

You roll your eyes at his playful banter, but there's a fondness in your heart as you look at him. "You're incorrigible, Lando Norris."

He grins, "You love it, though."

You can't help but smile, knowing he's right. “Come on,” you say, “you have a quali to attend.”

The tension from the qualifying session had left you on edge, your heart pounding with every lap, and your nerves had gotten the better of you, leading to some slightly bloody nails from biting them in anticipation. But all that anxiety melts away when you see Lando step out of the car, grinning ear to ear. As soon as he catches sight of you, he opens his arms, and you don't hesitate for a moment. You rush into his embrace, holding him tightly, relieved that he's safe and thrilled that he performed so well.

"You were amazing out there!" you exclaim, unable to hide the pride in your voice. "P2, front row! That's incredible!"

Lando chuckles, his arms still wrapped around you. "I don’t know how we did it!"

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with admiration for your best friend. "I never doubted you for a second," you say earnestly.

His grin widens, and he playfully ruffles your hair. "I know you didn't. Seems like you’re my lucky charm, hm?"

“You know what that means?” You ask him return, a playful smirk on your lips.

His answer comes quickly, and his look seems to reflect your own, “Pizza and a movie?”

Your reply is just as enthusiastic as you throw your arms around him and give him a big smile, “Pizza and a movie, baby!”

Eventually, you manage to escape the whole hustle and bustle of the circuit, and you and Lando find yourselves back at the hotel, with you on the couch trying to find something to watch and him deciding to take a quick shower after the stressful day of qualifying. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. You smile to yourself, glad that Lando is taking some time to relax after such a demanding day. As you wait for him to finish, you finally settle on a movie to watch with a small grin on your face, clearly pleased with your choice. Just as you're about to start the movie, you hear the bathroom door open, and Lando emerges, looking refreshed and relaxed.

After he gets the pizza box out of the oven, he walks over to the couch, wearing sweatpants instead of his jeans, and flops down next to you. "That shower was exactly what I needed," he says with a contented sigh.

You chuckle, glancing at him, while also trying to actively ignore the fact that he’s wearing grey sweatpants. "Feeling better now?"

"Definitely," he replies, flashing you a grin. "So, what are we watching?"

“Mamma Mia,” you scoff, “of course.”

“A classic, nice.” He nods in understanding, extending the pizza box to you for you to take a slice. “It’s still warm.”

You wordlessly grab a slice and pass the box back to Lando as you settle in your seat, ready to focus on your choice of movie. The comfortable silence between you feels familiar, like the unspoken language of best friends who have shared countless memories and moments together. Throughout the movie, you can't help but notice Lando's occasional stolen glances at you, and you find yourself stealing glances right back. He even winks at you with that boyish grin every time he catches you staring at him, making you giggle as you quickly turn your attention back onto the screen. You somehow find yourself sprawled out on the couch once the pizza box is emptied and discarded, and it’s harder for you to keep your eyes open. With your head on Lando’s lap, he plays with the ends of your hair as the two of you try to keep your attention on the screen.

‘Try,’ being the operative word here, since Lando realises that you end up falling asleep in the middle of the movie where Sophie realises all of the men she invited to the wedding thinks they are her father, and though he finds some kind of comfort in the chaos knowing that it will get resolved eventually, he can’t help but take his role as a makeshift human pillow very seriously. As the movie continues playing, Lando tries his best not to disturb your peaceful slumber. He leans back against the couch, adjusting his position so you can rest more comfortably on his lap while also trying so hard to not wake you up. He can't help but smile to himself as he plays with your hair, finding himself mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe.

With a sudden realisation that maybe it is not the best thing to stare at you while you sleep, he tries to occupy himself with something on his phone while also trying to keep still so that you don’t wake up. However, the text thread between him and Max quickly makes him realise that the thoughts that he tries so hard to keep away. He never gave himself the opportunity to think about the two of you that way, he supposes. Not that it would be weird or anything, but in his mind, he’d seen, and been in, far too many relationships form and de-form to know that not all is permanent when it comes to relationships and it’s also not something he’d want to risk when it comes to you. Although the unwarranted thoughts of the two of you together, as a couple, have been haunting him for the past couple of months, he did a great job of sending them away and finding something else to focus on – up until now, that is. And now that he’s pictured the two of you together, holding hands in the streets of Monaco, going on dates, doing more than what ‘best friends’ are meant to do, it doesn’t seem that daunting to give it a try.   

He carefully shifts you onto his lap with gentle movements, surprised that you don’t wake up and also trying to figure out the best way to wake you up without startling you. As he gently brushes your cheek, your eyes flutter open, and you look up at him with a sleepy smile. "Did I miss the end of the movie?" you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep.

Lando chuckles, shaking his head, but not stilling the movement of his hand. “No, we just finished. You fell asleep somewhere in the middle.”

You sit up slightly, rubbing your eyes with a small yawn. “I'm sorry,” you say, sounding apologetic.

“No need to apologise,” he assures you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You looked adorable sleeping, Tink.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, and you give him a playful nudge. “Stop teasing me.”

Lando grins, but there's a tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you. “I'm not teasing, Tink. I mean it. You always look adorable, no matter what you're doing.”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his sincere compliment, and you can't help but smile back. “Thank you,” you say softly, feeling a warmth spreading through you, “I, uh, I should probably go to my room and let you sleep.”

“What? No, you don’t have to go.” Lando’s eyebrows furrow on their own, “I mean, you could stay over, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

You give him an unsure look, “I don’t know, Lando, you have a race tomorrow.”

“And we’ll sleep,” he shrugs, “the name ‘sleepover’ implies that, baby.”

You end up giving in and nodding, albeit a little hesitant. "Alright, I'll stay over."

Lando's face lights up with a bright smile, clearly pleased with your decision. "Great! It'll be fun, just like old times."

You chuckle softly. "Yeah, just like old times."

And you’d expect it to feel like the old times, because the two of you said it would be like the old times – the times where you’d spend the night over at his house because his mother picked you up and you didn’t want the playtime to be over. But instead of the excitement of a prolonged play date with your best friend, you find yourself anxious in the hotel bathroom over the fact that it’s him out there, and there is no way that he is not aware of the way you feel about him. You take a moment to compose yourself, splashing some cold water on your face to calm your nerves. This situation is new territory for both of you, and you don't want anything to ruin the friendship the two of you have. When you eventually make your way out of the bathroom, you desperately want to go back in, feeling undoubtedly exposed under Lando’s burning gaze.

“What?” You ask, your voice coming off weaker than you hoped, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

It takes a minute for him to answer you, mainly because of the fact that poor Lando is having a brain malfunction at the sight of you in his shirt – which he gave it to you because it was the only logical option for sleepwear, you know? Suddenly regretting his possessive streak, he attempts to clear his throat, “Nothing, you look good in my clothes.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try not to let yourself become reduced to a blubbering mess, “Oh, well thank you. It’s yours,” after a brief moment of realisation you quickly add, “but you already knew that.”

“Tink,” he calls out, snapping you out of whatever embarrassed state you’re in, and your eyes quickly snap to his. “Come here,” he pleads as he extends one of his towards you, he’s quick to draw you into his arms – and just like that, you find yourself straddling your best friend.

“This is crazy,” you whisper as Lando grabs you by the waist to still your movements as you try to find a comfortable position while not realising just how uncomfortable it becomes for him.

“It doesn’t have to be,” his whisper is just as soft as yours as he looks up to you, “we don’t have to make it weird.”

A compromise, you’ll take it. “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to kiss you?” As much as you hate it when he replies to your questions with his own, you nod your head with a sheepish look on your face, though it doesn’t satisfy Lando as a valid answer. “I need you to say it, baby.”

You answer comes of in an instant. “I do, please.”

“Such good manners,” he mumbles while giving you that boyish grin you love oh so much. When he catches biting the corner of your lip, you’re broken out of your daydream by his thumb pulling your lip free. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” his thumb caresses the side of your lip, “that’s my job, anyway.”

Your cheeks flush at his playful comment, and you can't help but smile at his words. "Your job, huh?" you tease, feeling the tension in the air starting to dissipate.

Lando chuckles, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your waist. "Among other things," he replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Before you give yourself the opportunity to overthink, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Lando’s lips – it’s only a peck, a hesitant one at that, but not completely uncharted territory when you think about it. The two of you have shared kisses before, at Christmas or New Year’s at midnight, but somehow this simple peck feels different than any of those other occasions. Lando doesn’t rush you. He’s a patient man after all, and he knows that the feelings he has for you are reciprocated by the feelings you have for him. So when you look him with widened eyes, he gives you a soft smile and it does wonders to calm your nerves. It doesn’t take you long to press your lips against his once again, but this time the kiss is deeper, more passionate, and filled with the unspoken words that have lingered between you for too long.

It starts off with another peck, but this time you take the initiative to deepen the kiss, and the appreciative groan that leaves Lando’s lips makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. His hands move from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, while yours tangle in his hair, revelling in the softness of his curls – and the fact that all of this feels almost familiar in some kind of a way. He’s not shy as he lets his tongue explore your mouth, in fact, he encourages you to do the same. It’s a messy kiss filled with colliding tongues and mixed breaths, and the hands that were on your waist one moment are now on your hips, encouraging their slow movement against his groin. It’s not a subtle build-up for any of you, either. It a matter of seconds, you find yourself dry-humping your childhood best friend in his hotel room, and in a couple more, both of you are whimpering into the kiss.

You’re both out of breath and breathing deeply as you rest your forehead against Lando’s. Thankfully, his hands continue to guide your hips as their movement get more and more erratic, and you him groan out, “Slow down, baby.”

You let out an objective whimper in return, whispering out a weak, “No.”

“No?” Lando repeats, his breath hitting your exposed neck in a light chuckle, “Do you want to come?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, letting your hands grab handfuls of his hair, “but you can’t fuck me.”

The whine that comes from your lips can only be described as bratty when Lando forces your hips to cease their movements, raising an eyebrow at you as he grumbles, “Excuse me?”

“You can’t fuck me, Lando.” You mumble, trying to move your hips again, but his hold is too powerful against your attempts. “At least not tonight.”

“And why is that, Tink?” He takes in your wide eyes and shuddering breath in, thinking he’d done something wrong, something you didn’t like. “You want to come, no?” He thinks at that moment, as you give him a nod with that dreamy and almost innocent look on your face, he could die and he’d be happy with where his life has led him, but he gives you a confused look, “Then what is the problem?”

“Um, you have a race tomorrow,” you explain as your fingers gently slide down to meet at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want to jinx anything.”

As a respond to your words, Lando gives you a look of disbelief, “You don’t want to jinx me having a good race,” he mumbles.

You give him another nod, “Are you mad at me?”

 “Am I mad at you?” Lando repeats the question, and he flips the two of you over in a smooth motion so that you're lying on the bed with him hovering above you, his eyes locked onto yours. “Answer the question for me, will you?”

You take a moment to catch your breath, your heart racing as you meet his intense gaze. “No,” you reply softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “Why would you be mad at me?”

Lando's lips curve into a playful smile as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “See?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, “Good girl.” As he moves down your body, you let out a protesting sound, but he quickly shushes you as he positions himself between your legs. “I’m going to make you come, and you’re not talking to Micheal Italiano ever again.” He taps the side of your hips to signal you to raise them up as he carefully takes off your underwear and then murmurs to himself, “Pretty girl, too.”

With a blush which is quickly spreading onto your cheeks and neck, you raise yourself onto your elbows as you watch him give you the do-over. “Lando,” you plead.

“Oh baby, you're wet,” he teases, “don’t worry, though, I’ll help you with that.” He also gives you a look while grabbing both of your thighs, “And the shirt fucking stays on.”

After the events of the previous night with Lando working wonders between your legs for the remainder of the night, he honestly didn’t expect to start the morning with you returning the favour. Alas there you were, between his legs, with sleepy eyes and an innocent smile as if you hadn’t just given him the best blowjob of his life. And as the two of you make your way along the paddock, he wishes he was back in his hotel room with you in his arms. You try your best to distract him from overthinking everything and costing himself the race, and Lando is aware of what you’re trying to do – though that doesn’t mean you succeed completely.

You can tell by the small frown of eyebrows that he is lost inside his head, probably double guessing every aspect of the strategy his team debriefed him about this morning. With a deep inhale, you give his hand a small squeeze, halting your movements to stop him alongside you. “Hey,” you call out gently, “you’re going to be amazing out there, okay? You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know, it’s just the pressure is getting to me.” You watch him sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to regroup his thoughts, “I’ll be fine before I go in the car, I promise.”

You nod, giving him an encouraging smile, “I know you will. After all, you feel the–”

“Need for speed.” He completes the sentence without thinking, which makes the two of share a short laughter. “Thanks, Tink.”

“You’re welcome,” lifting yourself up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft peck on his lips, “I’ll watch the race with your dad, okay?” You chuckle at his reaction when he lets out a prolonged groan, “What?”

“He’s going to make fun of us, big time.” He says, rolling his eyes.

“Go,” you say in between laughter, “don’t be late and for the love of God, be careful!”

Lando chuckles at your playful warning, giving you a mock salute. “Yes, ma'am!”

It doesn’t take long for you to find Adam, who gives you a knowing look, in the sea of spectators in the McLaren garage. And as the race begins, you and Adam stand side by side, your eyes fixed on the track where the race is unfolding. The first four laps as the Lando leads the race makes your heart beat so hard, you can practically feel the excitement coursing through your veins. Each turn and straightaway that Lando navigates flawlessly adds to the anticipation building in the air. Even when he returns to his original position, you’re on the edge, praying to whatever deity up there for him to finish this race without and incident. You’ve told him million times before that you don’t get F1 at all, you’ve always thought the adrenaline linked with the sport to be a negative feeling – too heavy, too much and definitely not something you want to feel every weekend. But in the moment that Lando passes the finishing line P2, you realise why people are so obsessed with this sport. Because when Lando crosses the finish line, you find yourself cheering as loudly as anyone else. The rush of emotions, once alien to you, now feels like a shared celebration of human achievement and dedication.

Lando is all smiles when he finally finds his way back to you, and he’s giving you a kiss the moment he has you back in his arms; celebrating with the team in the paddock was a whirlwind of emotions. As he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, his big smile is infectious.

So you’re honestly confused when he starts dragging you through the hallways of the club you went to for his celebrations with the rest of the team. The beat of the music playing back in the dancefloor echoes in the hallway as he leads you down the hall. The lights, the laughter, and the energy of the celebrations in the main area of the club are still audible, but you can only hear the muffled sounds of the celebration being held for him. “Lando,” in hopes of finally getting some answers, you say his name for the umpteenth time, but he just looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, “what’s wrong?”

He's silent as he wraps his arms around your waist and before you can repeat your question he buries his head in the crook of your neck. While you’re thinking about what could’ve caused his sudden need to be alone with you, he’s very glad that you’ve opted to wear sneakers tonight instead of heels.

“Baby,” you murmur, your fingers running through his curls in an attempt to bribe him, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.” His voice is muffled by your skin and you can feel the breath he exhales on your shoulder.

You purse your lips and give him a few moments for him to break on his own, but when he doesn’t, you sigh softly. “Something is wrong.”

He raises his head momentarily to give you an unamused look, then bury his head back into your neck, “I saw you and Oscar.”

“Yeah, we were talking about the race.” Your confirmation leaves you confused as he lets out a scoff, and you find yourself warily asking, “Is there something wrong with that?”

You hear him scoff again and then, “Well I didn’t particularly like it.”

You gently push him off of you as you try to look past his confused expression and pouted lips, “You didn’t like me talking to your teammate… about your race.”

“Well when you put it like that–”

“Lando he is two years younger than us, and he has a girlfriend you do realise that, don’t you?” Your hands rest on either side of your body on your hips as you give him a small grin, “You were jealous, weren’t you?”

His eyes widen as he nods, “Well yeah, Tink, I think that one was very much obvious when I dragged you here.”

“I mean,” you drawl, “it was kind of cute, you know?”

As his eyes narrow, Lando walks you backwards until you’re pressed up against the wall. “Well I am a cute person.”

“Oh yeah,” you let out a giggle, “the cutest.” Your fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt while you look up at him to meet his eyes, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That we should probably get back to the party?” He mumbles, his eyes drifting as he looks around the hall.

You fist the collar of his shirt as you raise yourself up on your tiptoes, your voice lowering down for only him to hear even if it’s a deserted hallway, “You don’t have a race tomorrow.”

His eyes come back down to meet yours, “Well yes, it’s Mond– oh,” it takes a moment for him to realise what you’ve meant, and you’re thrown over his shoulder in an instant.

“Wha– Lando put me down!” You shriek, “What are you doing?”

His voice is playful as he starts walking towards the back door of the club, “We are not leaving that hotel room for a few days.”  

It doesn’t take long for you to start laughing, “You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs the opposite shoulder, “but I’m your idiot.”

The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, but you can’t help the small smile forming on your lips as you murmur, “Yeah, yeah you are.”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff

[vscabarca]

how about a gavi fic where they’ve been dating for a long time but long distance so the whole relationship is basically a secret and the public finds out and the internet sort of breaks and keeps commenting on how gavi is so different with her. if you do end up liking this and writing this please tag me <33

sant jordi - pablo gavi

summary: you visit your long-distance boyfriend Gavi and he accidentally hard launches your relationship.

genre: fluff!

a/n: @weekendlusting that request was so cute, thank you for your patience!🫶🏼 Also, i was listening to this song while writing, check it out for the full experience;)

———

Exhausted, you placed your school bag onto the floor of your hallway, walking towards the darkly lit living room. Just as you sat down, your phone buzzed and Pablo appeared on the screen.

With an immediate smile, you pressed the green button, accepting his call.

„Hello my love.“ He chimed, already laying in bed with his hood up.

„Hey amor.“ You tiredly answered, now also kicking your feet upon the couch.

„How was your day?“

„Exhausing but I wrote my last exam today.“ A feeling of relief washed over your body when you realized you‘d have now two weeks of pure relaxation, without having to do any schoolwork. But this feeling of relief was over quickly. Being in another country, several hours away from your boyfriend was hard. Especially if you had now so much freetime, you would love to spend it with Pablo.

„I‘m proud of you. Any plans for the upcoming days?“ Your boyfriend asked while playing with his hair.

„Not much. I wish I could spend them with you, I miss you.“ You pouted, feeling sad for only seeing him through the screen.

„Fly to Barcelona. I‘m having a few days off and I wanna see my gorgeous girl again.“

That’s how you ended up on a plane on a Tuesday, flying two hours to visit your long distance boyfriend for the next week.

The reunion was more than sweet. Pablo surprised you with flowers as he waited in his Audi for you. You two were over four months together, but still kept the relationship from the public. You wouldn’t actively try to keep it a secret, but also didn’t have the need to show everyone you two were together. After all, Pablo was Spain‘s teenage heartthrob and you were just a normal girl going to university.

He drove to his house first, giving you time to freshen up and put down your luggage. As it was the 23rd of April, also known as Diada de Sant Jordi, a catalan holiday, the city was decorated in red roses and Catalan flags.

As you two strolled aimlessly around a more quiet part of the city, Pablo never let go of your hand. To be not recognized too often, he wore his sunglasses and a cap, looking as handsome as ever.

The touch of his hand made you blush and the smile never left your face.

Suddenly, Pablo walked towards a little shop at the end of the street. It was so small you wouldn’t have noticed it if it weren’t for your boyfriend. Outside, there was a shelf filled with second-hand books and roses. Like the tradition says, Pablo grabbed a book with the most romantic title and went inside to pay. He stood in front of you, his signature smile plastered across his face as he gave you the book and the red rose.

„Feliz dia de Sant Jordi mi amor.“ You couldn’t help but blush, your face turning red from the charm of your boyfriend.

„Muchas gracias Pablito.“ You mused and stepped closer to press a gentle but yet passionate kiss onto his lips.

After you two enjoyed a fun day in Barcelona, you headed back home to cook dinner and have a relaxing night together.

During cooking and occasionally dancing to the music playing in the background, your phone started buzzing almost every two seconds. At first you dismissed it, thinking it was your friend filling you in on one of her hookup stories, but even Pablo turned his head in curiosity after the buzzing wouldn’t stop several minutes later.

„Don’t you think it’s important? It won’t stop.“ He asked with furrowed eyebrows, just as confused as you were. Your phone screen was flooded with people you barely knew asking about Gavi. Gavi here Gavi there, things like „you’re really together?“ or „could you ask him to sign me something?.“

It was so confusing until one of your family members told you to check Pablo‘s instagram.

You opened the app, seeing your boyfriend posted a story. Clicking on it, you saw a picture of you, holding the rose and book in your hands. Written was next to it „Feliz dia de sant jordi mi amor💞“

The blood froze in your veins. Did Pablo realize he just hard launched you?

„PABLO! why did you post me on your instagram account?“ You asked, eyes wide while he just shrugged his shoulders.

„I always do that. I thought you were okay with me posting you on my private account. You know only my family and close friends follow that account.“

Now it dawned on you. Pablo mistakenly posted the picture on his official account, the one with sixteen million followers instead of his private one with only twenty-seven.

„Baby… Of course I‘m okay with that, but you posted it on your main one. The one with sixteen million followers.“ You started laughing in despair, finding the situation oddly funny, even though whole Spain now knew about your relationship with the famous footballer.

Pablo grew red, standing in front of you in horror as he took a look himself.

„Fuck… I‘m so sorry. I swear I didn’t want to post that on there.“

„It‘s fine. I bet there are picture of us anyway from today.“ You said and assured him it was alright. He embraced you in a hug, kissing your head softly.

„At least I don’t have to hide you anymore.“

———

footy.gossip: teenage heartthrob Pablo Gavi is not on the love market anymore ladies!💔

He was seen spending the romantic holiday Sant Jordi with a mysterious girl by his side, buying her roses and a book. What a true gentleman!

view all comments:

user1: she’s really living the Y/N lifestyle…

user2: Gavi is for sure such a sucker for his girlfriend

->user3: I mean you can even see the heart eyes behind the sunglasses😭

pedri: yn finally you came to visit… he wouldn’t shut his mouth

->pablogavi: how could I not

->user4: HE‘S NOT EVEN DENYING IT??

user5: not pedri exposing gavi😭😭

user6: WE WANT A GF REVEAL!!

user7: I just know she dresses him

->user8: fr, the change from skinny jeans to this is a blessing

->user9: pedri step up your game

user10: don’t know who the girl is but… mamá y papá.

author: wish that was you huh?🫵🏻🤨

———

pablogavi: whoops accidental hard launch… anyway yn te amoo🫶🏼

comments are turned off

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #gavi #football x reader #gavi one shot #football one shot #fc barcelona #football imagine #football fanfic #barça

[itsphoenix0724]

All Things Vile (Eris x Reader)

Summary: A recon mission to the Autumn Court gets more heated than you intended. They say Autumn males fuck like they have fire in their veins-you guess you're about to find out.

Warnings: ROUGH SMUT (this is pure filth and I'm not sorry), kind of dark, oral (m!receiving) choking, bondage

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote for him, been a while since I wrote in general since I'm adjusting back into my school life. Chapter 3 of MMOTI is drafted and will hopefully be released soon! But anyway here's a smutty Eris fic for all of you <3

The Autumn Court was ablaze in moonlit revelry. The scent of spiced cider and ale consumed the grove along with the smell of the blazing campfire. Fog weaved in and out of the shadow-drenched trees, urging the partygoers to follow its trail into the darkness. You could make out bodies against trees, males and females losing themselves in one another, as you jumped silently along the oak’s branches. It was a simple mission; Get in and get out, that’s what Rhys had said, and that’s what you fully intended on doing. Cloaked in darkness, mask pulled up to hide everything but your eyes, you found your target. 

A drunken blush stained his pale cheeks, and the blood-red silk shirt he wore was unbuttoned so obscenely low you could see the dappling of freckles along his chest in the firelight. His auburn hair was unruly; the waves held down only by the circlet of gold leaves that marked him as the firstborn son of Autumn. His lips were stained from the wine he was sipping and his eyes had taken on a seductive half-lid as he somehow fixed his burning gaze straight onto you. 

Fuck, Rhys was going to kill you. 

Eris stood from his chair in one smooth motion, prowling towards your spot hidden in the woods like a mountain cat, amber eyes burning. You jump down from your tree, weaving through the branches like smoke to try to lose the lordling who’s hot on your tail. Nothing but the sound of your labored breathing and the sounds of footfalls echo through the dark wood. You just need to get to the border, Eris won’t have the gall to cross after you. You can see the green grass of Spring, the pastel pink of the cherry blossoms grotesquely clashing with the russet hues of the forest that currently surrounds you.

You can almost smell the sickly sweet air when a hand encircles your wrist like a hot brand.

The world tips and falls, the grass slipping out from under your feet as you’re dropped into a room, landing on all fours against a hardwood floor. Bands of fire wrap around your wrists and ankles, pinning you to the ground, not burning but holding you there. The tell-tale wave of nausea that means you’ve been winnowed somewhere quickly overwhelms you as you try not to heave onto the plush burgundy rug infront of you.

Eris has taken you to his room at Fir Hall, his private estate away from his life wrapped in court politics, you’re familiar with the home after many spy missions here. Your eyes fix on the Autumn Prince with a burning ferocity, and he does nothing but glare back down at you from where he looms above you.

“Well, well what has fallen into my trap,” He fixes you with a wolfish smile as he pulls down your mask, and your lips peel back into a snarl. “Hello Sweetheart,” he purrs as he tucks a loose hair behind your ears. “I’ve missed you, it’s very nice to see you again.” He tries to run a thumb over your bottom lip, but you snap your teeth in his direction like a feral animal and he wisely pulls his hand away. 

“Bite me,” you growl out as Eris crouches down until he’s at eye level with you. A hound cornering a wild fox, it seemed the hunter had won tonight as he lets out a laugh that leaves a burning caress down your spine. 

“Oh, I intend to.” He promises, stroking his hand along the back of your hair, pulling out the hair tie, and letting it fall around your face. “Now will you mind your manners?” He raises a copper brow, eyes dancing with amusement. The bond buried deep in your chest tries to wiggle free of its restraints, begging you to let it play with the other half of your soul. 

“Never,” you vow to him even as the mischief in his eyes turns to longing. This is torture denying yourself of him. 

But how could you not? 

Beron is still High Lord, if you were to tie yourself to him you would have to abide by his rules. You would rather claw your own eyes out. And if your family ever found out, if Mor ever found out, the shame and guilt would burn more than the roaring fire in the hearth. 

So you have this, you take every mission you can to Autumn and collect all the broken pieces and scraps that you can get. This is what you will allow yourself.

“I thought that would be the case,” Eris gets up and languidly strolls away from you, plucking the bottle of bourbon from the cabinet and pouring himself a drink. You watch with adept interest as his ring-clad fingers tighten around the crystalline glass, he strolls over to his bookshelf and plucks a well-loved novel off the dark shelf. 

Then the bastard settles himself into one of the plush armchairs and starts to fucking read. He ignores you as though you’re nothing more than a potted plant in the corner, he doesn’t even so much as glance at you, fully enraptured in his novel. A few minutes pass when you clear your throat. Eris deigns to look bored as he lazily turns his head toward you. 

“Yes?” He asks, propping the book against one knee and taking another sip of his whiskey. Your eyes track the movement of his throat involuntarily. 

“Aren’t you going to do something?” You push, urging him with your eyes as you lift your head through the curtain of your hair. You hope your gaze communicates everything you cannot bring yourself to voice, fearing your body will refuse to allow you air if you try. 

I love you, please don’t ignore me, I need you, play with me

He chuckles a dark sound and picks up his book again, pointedly flicking a page as the rubies on his hands glint in the firelight. 

“I’m not in the business of playing with unwilling toys,” Eris supplies, purposely staring at the fire instead of you. “Perhaps I should call Rhysand to collect you and tell him I don’t appreciate being spied on. Perhaps, he will never send you back here.” His brows scrunch in frustration but you both know that the threat is empty. It seems he is tired of your games. 

“What do you want?” You barely grind out, still refusing to relent to the signing inside your soul. “Do you want me to beg? Is that it? Princely bastard.” You practically spit, and faster than the blink of an eye Eris is in front of you, fisting your hair in one hand and tilting your chin to meet his smoldering gaze. 

“Are you ashamed of me?” He questions, and you can see the vulnerability dancing in his eyes. You shake your head as the fire binding your wrists recedes and you move into a more comfortable kneeling position, hands now bound in front of you. He soothes his hand along your cheek again as your brows knit together. You thought that the two of you had a kind of understanding. You had no idea where this was coming from. “I tire of this ruse, my love.” If Eris notices the mournful look in your eyes he says nothing. He strokes a warm hand through your hair, admiring your eyes in the firelight. “Why don’t you show me how much you missed me huh?” The wolfish grin is back and you hum your agreement as he runs his thumb along your bottom lip again, pleased at your cooperation as he slides his finger into your mouth. He thrusts it into your mouth and as you teasingly run your tongue over the pad he lets out a moan that shoots straight to your core. 

He undoes the belt at his waist, pulling his cock out with his hand, and your mouth waters at the sheer size of him. 

“I’m going to fuck your mouth now,” he rumbles, pure authority and power radiating off of him. A glimpse at the future ruler he will become one day. You nod your enthusiastic consent as he grips the back of your head and thrusts into your mouth at a merciless pace. Your head empties as he hits the back of your throat, the hand cupping the back of your hair surprisingly gentle compared to the way he was brutalizing your mouth. “That’s a good girl, take me down your throat.” It spills out of his mouth like he can’t even control it as your eyes roll back in your head at his praise. Eris pushes your mouth all the way down to the base of his dick and holds you there for a few seconds as your nose connects with his pelvic bone. He’s relentless as he uses you for his pleasure and you think that he might bruise your vocal cords. 

He spills down your throat as your binds dissolve into nothing, leaving behind a warm tingling sensation where the fire licked at your limbs. 

You swallow what he gave you, opening your mouth in emphasis as whiskey eyes blow wide with lust. You’re drenched at the sight of his cock already stiffening again. He walks to the mountainous bed in front of you, making himself comfortable against the pillows. 

“Come here pet.” He growls fisting his cock in his hand and crooking his fingers with the other. You start to rise to your legs on sore knees, but you freeze when Eris tuts–holding his hand out to stop you. “No. I want you to crawl to me.” The order wraps around you like warm silk, voice sliding against your bones. You lower yourself back down to the floor, humiliation burning hot on your cheeks as you sway your hips in what you hope to be enticing. He stops you quickly and you look up at him from under fluttering lashes. “Strip. Slowly.” Your face burns even hotter and Eris can’t take his eyes off you as you rise, slowly undoing every single buckle on your leathers and letting them fall to the floor, leaving you entirely exposed to him before climbing onto the bed. His body is so warm against your skin as he draws your mouth to his, the burning taste of cinnamon whiskey floods your mouth. He dominates you even here, claiming you as his tongue wrestles with yours. The moan that slips out of you comes out scratchy from the abuse of your throat, and in a flash, you’re below him as he grinds his hips into yours. 

“Eris,” you whimper as his cock brushes against your folds. You need him to fill you to the brim, wanting him as close as possible. He shushes you gently as he bites at your pulse point, the only goal in his mind is to claim as he sucks dark marks into your neck. 

You’ll surely be wearing only turtle necks for a few weeks after this. 

His warm hands skate down your body, pulling and prodding at your sensitive nipples, letting out a dark chuckle as you whine at his ministrations. Eris mocks your moans as he rubs a finger at your center, rolling the sensitive bundle of nerves between his fingers. Finally, he slips a finger inside of you rubbing at the spot that makes you see stars. He knows exactly where to touch to get you to dissolve, his beautiful mate bending to him like water running through his fingertips. That ring-clad hand curls around your throat, cold metal contrasting with his warm hands, and you keen as the pleasant dizzy feeling takes over your whole body. 

That feeling combined with the addition of another finger in your core sends you hurtling through gold-flecked oblivion.

He pulls his fingers out of you, sucking them into his mouth and moaning as he relishes the taste of you on his tongue. Staring down at your shaking form with smugness in his eyes as he circles the skin of your inner thigh, enjoying the way the muscles quiver under his touch. Eris sinks himself into you, inch by tortuous inch until you can’t tell where your body ends and he begins. He strokes slowly and deliberately, bruising you with his intensity as your vision goes white with searing pleasure every time he moves his hips.

You want him to leave his imprint everywhere on your body, that unanswered bond begging you to never leave this bed again. Eris must feel it too, that golden thread wrapping around his heart begging him to keep you, to never let another male so much as look at you. That makes something ugly twist in his chest and he almost snarls at even the thought of another male near you as his instincts take over and he draws your legs over his shoulders to hit an even deeper part inside of you. Your walls are clenching and fluttering around him as his pace turns ravenous, all you can do is try to hold on as your nails scrape jagged lines down his back. Eris scrapes his teeth over your neck, then he moves down to your nipple biting down as you scream his name before giving the other one equal attention. 

“Who do you belong to pet?” He murmurs in your ear in time with a thrust that's so deep your vision turns white. “Who’s the only one that can make you feel like this?” You can barely give him anything but a whimper as he devastates your body, pinching your clit in a way that elicits a pleasure-soaked sob. “Scream it for me,” he punctuates it with a slap against the apex of your thighs. 

“Yours Eris, I’m all yours!” You scream as you orgasm, tears running down your flushed cheeks, Eris follows soon after you spilling himself deep inside of you.

He pulls out, disappears into the bathroom, and returns with a clean rag to wipe up the mess he made between your thighs. He collapses onto the mattress next to you and pulls you to his chest, warming his hands with his power as he rubs slow circles into the small of your back. You look up at him and he’s taken aback at the vulnerability in your eyes. “Eris I-” you choke, unable to force the words you so desperately want to say past your lips. He shushes you with a kiss against your forehead. 

“I know,” he mutters into your hairline “I know.” You hold him tighter, blinking back tears as you lock the bond back down in its obsidian shackles,“I’ll wait an eternity for you.” It’s the last thing you hear before closing your eyes as you let him soothe you to sleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I trust everything went well?” Rhys asks, raising a dark brow at your form where you stand across from his desk. You subconsciously pull the dark turtleneck further up, the deep purple marks burning like a brand. You scrubbed yourself raw as soon as you winnowed yourself to your apartment, and you’re praying to the Mother that Rhys doesn’t even catch a whiff of Eris or the frankly copious amounts of sex. The thought of Eris enjoying it this morning, pressing his nose against the crook of your neck to make sure it really stuck, before crawling his way down your body to settle in between your thighs makes you triple-check that the steel of your mental shields was still in place.

“Nothing to report,” You rasp, voice destroyed after last night's events. The attempts to clear your throat are doing nothing to help you

“Are you alright?” Rhys questions, wringing his hands together on his desk as he shoots a concerned look. 

“Must just be a chill I caught in Autumn, those woods get cold at night.” You supply and he hums his agreement. 

“Well go rest, you’ve earned it. Perhaps you should see Madja for something to soothe your throat.” Rhys says and you nod your agreement, taking the cue for your dismissal. You wait until his office door clicks shut behind you to let out your sigh of relief, thinking of nothing but soft sheets and warm hands. 

You can only hope you get another mission there soon.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #eris vanserra #eris imagine #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris vanserra smut

[cosmicstarlatte]

Coffee Shop (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

You start a new job at a coffee shop in a popular plaza. You can't help but look forward to a certain regular. ♡

»Characters: Demon Bros + Dia + Barb

»Tags: Fluff, Bulleted Style, GN Reader, LeviLeviLevi-

»Notes: lol when was the last time I made a bulleted fic that wasn't a shitpost???🤯 Just simple short fluff lol, reblogs are appreciated + motivating ♡

Lucifer:

Always orders a cafe con leche every morning

Keeps interactions short but you learned his name

Always so serious but he does look like a business man

A very very handsome business man cough

After working there for a little bit he admits he likes the way you make his drink & hates when you guys miss each other on days off

One day he comes in normal clothes & you got caught off guard when he made it to the register

"It's my day off but I was craving my usual. I'm glad to see you're here."

Pleaseee you gotta be blushing right now alalfkfldk

You notice the record store bag he's holding & start a fun conversation while its slow

It does get busier & unfortunately have to cut the conversation to both your disappointments

"We can continue this later...maybe over dinner if you're available?"

Mammon:

Usually gets an icy blended drink, the flavor changes frequently

You see him every other day, it looks like he works at a retail store in the plaza

You thought he was cute & funny despite how loud he could be

One day he defends you against a really rude customer

You say your thank yous & give him his drink for free that day

"Yeah I guess I am a hero. Heroes get free drinks all the time though, ya?"

You couldn't help but laugh & accidentally let slip "you're really cute!"

He starts choking on his drink, stuttering & blushing

He goes silent for a moment before asking, "whaddaya say to a date one of these days?"

Levi:

Usually orders sweet drinks & likes trying seasonal/limited time things

You've seen him at his job at the anime store in the plaza, since you visit there sometimes

You two are on friendly terms even though he can be awkward

You think he's very cute though, especially when he talks about his passions

You felt like you two were dancing around eachother so you decide to make a move

You drew a Gundam robot on his drink & wrote 'Gun-DAM you're cute!'

You nervously handed the drink & he took it without noticing the drawing on it

You watched as he left the shop,took another sip, then stop as he looked at his drink

You could see he was happily freaking out but then abruptly stop

He looked back to the shop & you waved a shy hello

He ran back inside to make sure, "S-sorry is this a mistake? W-was this for someone else??"

"Look on the bottom"

He raised the cup & looked under

Levi, AkuCon this weekend?

Satan:

Usually orders a simple cappuccino but will add a flavored syrup occasionally

Comes in often on his breaks

You've seen him working at the bookstore in the plaza

He looks like a simple guy yet very charming

You always notice a book on him & one day you decide to ask what he's reading

You learn you read the same things & start having fun conversations every time he stops by

Eventually he asks you if you'd be able to give your thoughts on his writing

"Sure, I'd be happy to read it if you bring it!"

He gave you a flirty smile

"Actually I was thinking maybe we could hang out...like somewhere that's not here?"

Asmo:

Always orders an iced vanilla oat milk latte

You see him every few days, really friendly customer that loves to chat & you become friends quick even though you want more

You find out he works at a nearby agency & is an up & coming model

You felt a little intimidated, he could be really famous one day!

Nevertheless you treat him just the same even as those around him changed, he lets you know how grateful he is

One day he comes in upset & tells you the agency is moving across town to a bigger location so he won't be able to see you there anymore

At the same time both of you blurt out

"I still wanna see you!"

Beel:

You never know with this guy

He works in the sports store across from the cafe

He's always indecisive with the menu & one day just tells you to make whatever

You're his fave barista, he thinks you make the best drinks either way

Doesn't realize he just likes everything & has a crush on you

You can't help but get excited when he looks excited to see you golden retriever energy

You find out he's a foodie type & you guys talk about the local spots around town

"Would you like to check out the new sandwich store that opened a few doors down? Uh...like, maybe a date?"

Belphie:

Usually orders a hot regular latte but occasionally orders hot chocolate

He appears to be a student as he comes in often to study & always looks tired

One day on your break you decide to chat him up & offer help on the subject he was struggling with

He thought you were cute & was thankful for your help

After a few weeks of tutoring (+some heavy flirting), he passed his exam flawlessly

"Actually can you help me with one other thing?"

"Yeah, what?"

"Would you like to go on a date sometime?"

Diavolo:

Has a new favorite every week but really likes lattes/teas

You can tell he's important with his assistant present

You wonder why the assistant doesnt just get his order though

Anyway hes hot really friendly & chatty & can tell a few good jokes, you appreciate them!

He always seems reluctant to leave the shop which makes your heart flip

Always leaves a big tip! ... I want him to give me a big tip 😔

The two of you find out you have a lot more in common than you thought

One day he admits that these coffee runs are the things he looks forward to the most since his day is usually very busy & doesn't get much else normalcy

He lets slip that it's mainly seeing you that adds to his joy so he goes all in

"If you're interested, care to join me for dinner this weekend?"

Barbatos:

Always large orders of a few different drinks (part of his job)

Though you notice he always orders tea for himself & likes to buy different tea blends

He's a very (cute) polite customer, one of the few

You two usually chat as you make his large order & you can't help but fall for him

Knowing he loves to buy limited release tea blends, you usually save him one before the cafe sells out

You never tell anyone about it but:

"I appreciate you always saving me one."

"Oh? How did you know!?"

"I have a friend who stopped by earlier & said it was one of those times they missed out. Yet, there always appears to be one for me even after sell-out. Thank you kindly."

You blush at being found out, "seems I've been caught!"

He chuckles & gives you another shock:

"I've been meaning to ask...will you allow me to take you out one of these days?"

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#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹ #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos

[luvtak]

birthday blues, psh

☆ pairing fratboy!sunghoon x reader

☆ genre/tw fluffy fluff fluff, a twinge of angst, sunghoon has a case of the birthday blues :(( i wrote the mc to be quite introverted, hand holding lmao, cheek kisses! a little miscommunication, a very sweet and soft getting together fic <33

☆ w/c 1705

☆ a/n happy holidays!! i began this fic on sunghoons birthday but because i am terrible at planning anything i just finished tonight lol, so heres a little present from me!! i hope you like it <3

masterlist

With the bad music and the smell of cheap beer, you find yourself regretting walking through the door. The house is bustling with conversation and rhythmless dancing–not a sweater in sight despite the frigid air outside. Not one person you know or like is occupying the four walls around you, and even worse, your drink is weak. 

The melting ice is enough to kick start a negotiation with yourself, you’ll leave after this drink… tell Sunghoon happy birthday, and then we’re gone. You’re not sure why you even bothered… you’ve been on three dates with the boy and barely kissed twice. While he’s handsome and funny, you don’t know if that's enough to endure another mindless frat party while your roommates are cozying up at home watching the new season of Love is Blind. 

While initially you held some reservations about going on another date with a frat boy, Sunghoon proved himself to be very sweet.

 The first date was nice, dinner and a movie (action which was ironically very boring) and a chaste cheek kiss that kept you up way past your desired Tuesday bedtime. His lips were soft and his eyes were kind–a sort of unfamiliar shy glimmer staring down at you. He was ever the gentleman, opening doors and making sure to tell you how pretty you looked… He was perfect. Which was odd for a guy who spent all his time with boys who carried a carousel of girls around. 

The second date was quick but sweet, a speedy lunch in between classes, leaving a smile on your face until you got home that night. He had asked about you the whole time, wanting to know how your day was, and if you had had a good time when you went out before. And finally, the third, wherein the very pretty boy asked you to come to his birthday party before placing a swift kiss upon your lips. 

It was almost like you were possessed. Feeling a great urge to be there to celebrate with him–very unlike the person you claim to be, but he asked so sweetly. His fanged smile was large and on display, and he had a look in his warm eyes that reminded you too much of an overloved puppy. Too much time with those eyes and you were agreeing before he could say please. 

Now, you wished you had the gift of prophecy. If you knew you wouldn’t see the boy once since walking through the doors 45 minutes ago you never would have said you’d come. Of course, it’s his birthday and you’re sure he’s busy being shuffled along friends and pretty girls who’ve long since held his favor, but he asked you to come and if you have to spend another minute listening to mindless chatter you might never speak to him again–no matter how much you like his company.

The boys next to you are crass and the girls much more indulgent than you feel prepared for. Enabling their counterparts with enough alcohol and shitty pick up lines to put you out for the whole year. And while listening in to others' conversations isn’t the nicest thing to do, the loud groanings of, “Hey, pretty lady…you’re heating up this whole place.” were just too nauseating to ignore. 

While slurred words are always swoonworthy, it may be time to head out. 

It is barely eleven, but you’re ready to go–ego bruised and brain ready to rest with some mind numbing television. Not too mention, phone long dead from too many tiktoks watched to pass the time. You can’t believe he didn’t even make an effort to say hello. You made it clear you didn’t like this sort of thing–would rather spend a Friday night away from the hubbub and cheer of a college party that lost its charm the spring of your freshman year. 

Whatever, if he didn’t care you’re just glad he showed his true colors sooner rather than later. While it sucks,  it’s no use crying over another too pretty boy. 

Peeling yourself from the back corner, you find yourself jostled this way and that until your skin meets the chilly December air. A momentary shock of relief rings through your gut, finally away from the rotten place a younger you loved, and an older you was over. 

The night for all its misadventures did end up being a pretty one; stars barely peeking through the light covered city and shining down on the car packed street. Straining your neck to see them for just a minute before making your way to your car, you eye a startling figure sitting on the frat house’s roof. 

A boy with a curious resemblance to Sunghoon, but why would the birthday boy be out here instead of at his own party? His hair is mussed and though he is far up, it’s easy to see the messy state of his clothes–sweatpants and a sweater one could only describe as something a grandfather would wear. 

“Sunghoon? What are you doing up there?” it's too far, but you think you can see the little lift of his lips, a look of relief gracing his features. 

“What do you mean? I’m waiting for you, didn’t you get my message?” His voice, while covered by the echoing party and the nighttime sounds, still carries over the expanse of the front yard as if he was in front of you–as confused as it was, it does little to ease the annoyance of before. 

“What are you talking about Park? I’ve been here for an hour and haven’t gotten anything from you.” 

“Oh I’m Park now? But it’s my birthday.” betrayed by your own temper, you can’t help but let your teeth show. His ever composed countenance running away as he whines his words. 

Maybe it’s dramatic and maybe he did send you a message, but the bitter pain of feeling ignored won’t go away just because he’s cute. 

Even if he is really really cute. 

“How am I supposed to know if you really did send me a message and aren’t just saying that now that you’ve been caught?” 

“Come on now, Silly, charge your phone.” he’s grinning now, tongue running along the points of his left canine. “I’d invite you up, but it looks like you may just push me off.” 

“Why are you up there anyway? There's a bunch of people in there waiting for the birthday boy.” 

It could be your imagination, or a trick of the shadows, but it’s almost like that one word made his whole body falter. Straight shoulders falling below his ears and long eyelashes hitting the peaks of his cheekbones. Eyes closed and figure sad. 

From a young age you’ve been rather curious; looking through hidden presents and asking too personal questions to the people around you, but you don’t think you’ve ever been more interested than now. Looking at this handsome boy–too early to love, but too late to ignore–sitting alone on his birthday is enough to make you pause. 

“Sunghoon? Are you okay? I won’t push you off if you help me up.” 

While he doesn’t answer your question, he does reach out a hand to show you the way. Laughing loudly when you stumble through the tree branches, and quick jabs at your obvious roof climbing inexperience. It’s only when you’ve safely landed next to him that you can really see the slightly blue expression on his face. Of course he’s smiling–you don’t think he’s ever looked at you without one, but there's something invading his form. An ever present dusk sitting along his spine. 

The both of you sit in silence for a long time, looking out at the street and laughing at the party goers retreating through the yard. Young men and women stumbling and giggling their way through another weekend. It’s only when the music changes from obnoxiously loud electronica to obnoxiously loud rap does he speak. 

“I’ve never really liked today, you know? I get so excited for it to come, thinking it's gonna be a magical day that changes everything. Then I wake up and it’s just another boring day. I guess I haven’t learned how to deal with the disappointment, 

I’m sorry you were in there alone, I– I wish I knew you went inside. I was hoping I’d catch you going in and bring you up here. I thought maybe if I spent it with you, it could be life changing. Exciting enough to be worth another year.” 

How interesting birthdays are, to be so momentous and yet so disenchanting. You wait 365 days for a moment to pass, another year older with no magic in sight. Although you can’t ignore that he believed you to be life changing. How sweet, to think after only three dates he’s already decided that you’re who he wants to spend his day with. Face warming and hands shaking, you’re able to let out a soft laugh, before finally answering, 

“Well, maybe we should just treat it like any other day. No cake or presents, I won’t even wish you a happy birthday." It's strange how this seemingly mean sentiment lights up his face: brown eyes becoming crescent moons, a goofy grin settling along his mouth. A look worthy of a birthday. 

“What should we do instead?” 

“Hmm, if you come with me right now we might be able to see the rest of Love is Blind with my roommates. Kazuha and Intak swore they wouldn’t watch the weddings without me… Only if you want to.” 

And the way you looked at him with wide eyes and a hopeful smile, how could he say no. How could he tell you that all day he wished he could spend it with you.

He helps you down and keeps your hand in his as you begin the trek back to your apartment. The night is cold, but his figure next to yours heats you right up–brightening the walk back to your apartment, and making you thank whatever power made you stop to look at the stars, never knowing the tall boy was wishing on every birthday cupcake that you’d join him on the roof and change his life.

© LUVTAK

#sunghoon #enhypen #enha #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #sunghoon fluff #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon scenarios #enha x reader

[lotus-n-l0ve]

𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

— 𝑃𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

➷ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ : In the middle of a rainy night, Your boyfriend, Peter needs you and you are more than happy to comply.

➷ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : Little to no dialogue, smut, cursing, oral (female reciving), reader sleeps naked, pet names (sweetheart, baby, darling), 18+, Minors Don't Interact, 1.3k words.

➷ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʟᴏᴛᴜꜱ : Hello loves. I'm so sorry for not posting any Peter Parker fic for almost two months. I was originally planning to post another Peter Parker fic but I can't fucking seem to finish that one. So I wrote this one instead. I'll post that one later some day. This is my first time writing smut so don't expect too much. If you like the fic then please leave a like, comment and reblong. Follow me for more like this. Enjoy ♡

𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Fingers glided down your naked spine, pulling you out of your slumber yet you don't open your eyes. The hand halted at the bottom of your spine before making it's way to you front. The heavy hand lay on your waist. Next a warm pair of lips made it's way to the nape of your neck before buring the head in your disheveled hair.

The sound of rain drops hitting almost drowned his voice. The room was chilling. If not for the warm fuzzy douvet and the warmth of you lover, you would have frozen to death. Specially since you like to sleep naked.

"I know that you are awake, baby. Stop acting now." Your lover whispered.

To this you blinked your eyes open. You could see the thin layer of water running down on the glass window. You turn your body to face, still wrapped in his arm. Your head lay on his arm. You pull your legs over his waist.

"Can't sleep?" You whisper, matching his own tone as you palm his jaw in one hand. You run your thumb on his jaw back and forth in a repetitive manner.

Peter shook head before pulling you closer to his body. Your breath mingling with eachother's. His brown eyes stared down at you with clear adoration in them, amost making you want to shy away. You were great full for the darkness present in the room. Otherwise he would have seen blood crawling up your neck and cheeks.

But unknown to you Peter could see your cheeks becoming red in blush, which made him laugh quietly. Before you ask the reason of his laugh, Peter leaned down capturing you lips in his own. Your back hit the bed as Peter hovered over you.

You lips danced with his. The kiss was soft yet passionate. You two have kissed many times before so you would think that you are used to them. But each time Peter kisses you feel just like the first kiss you two shred. Heartbeat kept getting faster, butterfly flattered in your stomach. You felt euphoric.

Your one hand rested on his shoulder as the other one creeped in his brown locks. Peter then started trailing kisses down your throat, stopping at your collarbones as he dropped open mouth kisses one after another. Sucking and licking one your weak spot. You could not help as moans kept erupting from you.

You throw you head giving him more space to mark as you spouted his name like a spell. Peter left feather kisses down your chest to the valley between your boobs. The buds already hard and aching because of the cold weather.

Peter grabbed one breast in his hand, massaging it now and then and took the other one in his mouth. His tongue rolled around the aching bud, playing with it. His one hand squeezing and tuging your other nipple.

When he had given enough attention to both boobs Peter sat up, kneeling between your legs. His chest heaving up and down with huffs along with your. Peter brought his hand to your wet pussy. His thumb parting your pussy and smethering the slickness all over.

You hips jerked up to feel his fingers in your clit but Peter palmed your stomach and pushed you back down. You stared at him, pleading with your eyes to just put his cock in you but Peter had other plans.

Peter kissed both your knees before trailing hickeys down your thighs. Peter kept kissing and sucking your inner thigh. His face was dangerously close to your cunt, his warm exhale teasing it. You writh and moan under him. Pushing his head in your soaking pussy, trying to get any kind of fraction to help your aching.

"Pe-Peter please." You stuttered out between breathy moans, "I ca-can't take this anymore. I need you."

Peter locked his eyes with you from between you spreaded legs. The view was so erotic that you couldn't help but moan. His lips curled up to smirk, "Where do you need me sweetheart?"

"Here?" He kissed your inner thigh, "Or here?" He whispered while biting on your other thigh, "Or here?" He softly bit your clit. The caress of his cold teeth sending a shiver down your spine.

You back arched at the sensation, "My-My pussy, Pete."

"As you wish Darling." Peter muttered before giving your pussy long lick.

You almost sigh at the sensation. His tongue doing magic. His tongue playing and nibbing on your clit. Peter entered two of his finger in you. Your walls clenching around the digits for relief. He pulled his digits out all the way back before shoving them in you again.

His pace was slow and steady. You back arched and you threw your head back. Your thighs squeezing around head. Peter kept licking, nibbing and sucking your heat. Soon you could feel the familiar knot in your stomach.

You were close. Your heels dug on his bare back as you grabbed his hair and shoved his face deeper in your pussy. Peter snorted at your acts.

"Pe-Peter I'm cu-cuming." You whined.

"I know baby. Cum for me, won't you?" Peter mumbled.

And with his words you came undone with wail. You chest kept falling and raising as you huffed. Peter lapped on your leaking cum like a sterved beast. Gulping every last drop, not letting any of it get waist. With a last stroke of his tongue pater raised his head from your pussy.

White and sticky cum glistening on his lips and jaw. Peter swiftly got rid of the only boxer he was wearing and took out a condom from the nightstand. Peter rolled up the condom on his cock and positioned himself on your entrance with your legs thrown over his shoulders.

Without any wait Peter entered in you with so much force that you almost hit your head on the headboard, if not for his hands which were gripping your waist. You and Peter sigh goarn sync. Peter could not wait anymore.

With one hand on the back of your thing and the other one around your neck, Peter pounced on you. His hips going back and forth. Peter kept thrusting in you with all his force. He loved the view before him.

You laying helpless under him. Hands clutching the bedsheet. Boobs bouncing with each of his thrust. You walls hugging his cock like the the cocksleeve it was. The sound of skin slapping echoed through the room as his hips slammed your inner thighs repeatedly. His head leaned back as the the feeling build up in his stomach. He was close as were you.

"Come'on princess. Cum for me. Cum for me princess." Peter kept blabbering nonchalant words.

With no time you both were cumming undone with moans and groans. With a last thrust he pulled out of you. You whimper at the lack of feeling. You walls clenching around nothing and pussy throbbing.

Peter took of the condom and threw it in the dustbin before his heavy fell over you but made sure to not put too much of his weight over. His head resting on your chest. For the next few moments the moment filled up with the sound of your heavy breathing.

There was no sound of storm of rain. The rain had probably stopped while you two were busy with each other.

"You want to take a shower?" Peter muttered, his head still resting on your now calm chest.

"Bath." You answer in one word.

"Okay. Let's go." Peter placed a quick kiss on you nipples before picking you up in bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom, closing the door by a foot behind him.

Please don not copy, reupload or plagiaris my work. All the rights and credits of Marvel characters, gifs, songs and pictures used belongs to their rightful owners.

➷ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʟᴏᴛᴜꜱ : If you want be added on any my taglist then you can do that here. The ask box is open so if want me to write something then you can request there.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #mcu peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker x you #tasm peter x reader #peter parker x y/n #andrew spiderman #andrew peter parker #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel smut #Peter Parker x Female Reader #tobey!peter parker #tobey!peter x reader #tobey!spiderman #tom!peter x reader #tom!peter parker #tom!spiderman #𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 #lotus writes #lotus's peter parker

[farmerstarter]

ʚ 📜ɞ ˚ · . Meeting Elliot For The First Time:

tags: Elliott x reader

word count: 605 words

warnings: English isn't my first language so expect some errors scattered about

hi hello, have this short fic of Elliott I wrote. If you have any requests then feel free to send an ask! Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated 💐

Fic below the cut!

It was May when you met him. The air smelled of salt, and the ocean breeze was cold from the early morning. With your feet buried in the sand, you stared into the horizon, empty of the rising sun. Your hair danced in the wind like the waves that would seep their way into the sand and under the soles of your bare feet. You shivered but didn't move. You focused on fishing and selling your catch to Willy, hoping for enough money to keep yourself afloat even for just a day. You moved into your grandfather's dilapidated farm a few days ago, and after meeting the local fisherman of the valley, he graced you with his old fishing pole. Fishing pulled in the money faster than farming would ever do. And with the leaks that seemed to multiply in the shack of a house you now called home, you needed more money to fix them than ever.

You were alone for the most part, or as alone as you could be with Willy fishing in his own little world on the docks. But after working for Joja in little metal cubicles that felt more like prison cells, surrounded by hundreds of other prison cells, you learned how to feel alone in crowds. No one in your old life would talk to you, aside from the occasional 'I need the report in an hour', the rare 'Thanks', and the even rarer 'Hello'.  But that was then. And the first few days you spent in Stardew Valley had more substance than the years you spent in the city. There, you merely existed. Here, you lived.

Your musings were interrupted by the sudden tug of your fishing pole. You stumbled forward, kicking sand as you kept the pole close to your chest. You pulled and reeled in your catch. In what seemed like hours of tug-of-war, you finally pulled in your beast of a fish. Which so happened to be a sardine, barely 9 inches long. You frowned, disappointed.

"You've done better than me, better than I ever could."

You turned your head and saw a gentle smile. He was tall, all shoulders. His eyes were brown, framed by long lashes and the subtle wrinkles that came with age. His hair was as warm as the suit jacket he wore. If you weren't so enamored, you would judge his fashion sense. "Your arrival sparked many a conversation!" He offered his hand. "I'm Elliott; pleasure to meet you." And he said it with sincerity, a feeling still foreign to you. You gave him a smile of your own and shook his hand before dropping your measley sardine in your basket. You cast another line, and both of you watched it disappear into the depths of the ocean.

"I'm new to this town myself. I moved in a year before you did," Elliott continued. The ocean breeze blew some of his stray hairs into his face. "I was lucky to have kind Willy with me to help me settle."

His eyes met yours for a brief moment before he turned to the sun rising from where the sky met the sea. The morning shined in oranges and yellows. And in the growing warmth of the sun, Elliott seemed to glow. "I'd like to extend that kindness to you." The waves tickled your toes as you took in a deep breath of morning air. "If you need help or a simple chat, my door is open for you." There it was again, that sincerity. You looked at him, and your heart trembled. It was May when you fell in love.

#stardew valley #sdv elliot x reader #sdv elliot x farmer #sdv elliott #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley fanfic #elliott sdv #stardew elliott #🌱 writing :: ELLIOTT

[idontknowwhatimdoingbutweball]

Hello, World

A SAGAU / Self Aware Fanfic Chapter 1 TWs / CWs: Combat, a battle happens in this, possibly OOC characters and inaccurate lore (This is my first time using CWs so feel free to @ me if I should add anymore though!) In which Teyvat meets a futuristic version of the Reader, and the Reader shows Teyvat what the humans of Earth are like in their future. ~

Apologies for taking so long to post this! I just got back from the hospital so I haven't been able to be online much these past few months, but hopefully I'll have more time to write now! My brain is still foggy from my visit to the hospital and what caused it, but @nomorefstogive and @2broschlininahotub shared some really cool ideas and I got inspired by @thatdeadaquarius and their amazing posts so I wrote this fic as a gift for them and everyone in the Genshin / fellow Armored Core fans who are into SAGAU / general SAGAU community! Y'all are amazing, so I thought it was only fair that I make this gift. I'm still learning English and my memory is still really foggy so there might be some inaccuracies with the lore and whatnot, but I hope you all enjoy this nonetheless! More under the Read More:

~

~ The boot-up process has always been familiar to you. Like waking up when you were human, it has always been familiar to you. Zeroes and ones, lines of code danced across your vision as it took in fields of grass dancing on the breeze across the horizon of the strange new world you woke up in. Magic and elements, wisps of the cosmos and the elements that it was made of danced across your fingertips. It felt... familiar, not as familiar as the boot-up process as your mind came to and your chassis slowly moved off the ground but an almost pseudo-familiar feeling of deja-vu- Ah, yes. Your optics zoomed in on your surroundings. Another day, another isekai. No matter. You were used to this. You were prepared for this. You had read isekai stories and SAGAU fanfictions in the past after all, when you were still human. Before you became what most folks you came across in the worlds you were isekai'd to a mecha-god-deity-something. It helped, the first few times. When your fellow future humans and AI brethren lost contact with you amongst the stars and the countless dimensions the people and machines of Earth now explored in the far future, you had to rely on yourself and sometimes the fact that you (alongside most if not all of your fellow humans nowadays) weren't human anymore. 'Well,' you mused to yourself, 'time to make the most of it.' ~

~

'Well,' Bennett thought to himself, 'I saw this coming.'

If he had to be honest with himself though, he really wished this wasn't happening at all.

The unnaturally large group of Ruin Guards continued stomping to where he was, and Bennett raised his sword in defiance. He could feel the ground vibrate with their footsteps, the pebbles and blocks on the ground jumping up every now and then as they drew nearer.

Bennett closed his eyes and drew a breath, but he did not notice that none of them had stopped to fire their missiles at him. None of them had stopped to lock onto him, despite him standing still while he was completely in the open amongst the ruins surrounding them all.

In fact, while he had been the one to wake them up, he was no longer their target at all.

Something huge slammed into the ground in front of him, and Bennett's eyes whipped open before his jaw dropped.

In front of him stood a massive machine, one Bennett thought was a brand new type of Ruin Guard that had awakened to get rid of him like the others due to his bad luck... before he realized that it did not have any similarities to Khaenri'ah's technology, nor was it facing him at all.

In fact, the machine was facing down the Ruin Guards in front of them.

In a sudden and explosive whirlwind of movement and light, it charged straight through the group, some kind of blade made of pure light that manifested on its wrist going straight through the first Ruin Guard it encountered before the machine jabbed it into the midsection of another.

Both the machine and the Ruin Guard hit the stone wall on the opposite side of the ruins with enough force to make the entire area shake as if hit by an earthquake, before it pulled out the blade and turned around to face the rest at an impossible speed.

'How can a machine so large move at such insane speeds?', a voice in the back of Bennett's head asked.

The machine continued to seemingly not care about the laws of physics, a burst of light and heat emanating from it as it flew above the rest and sent down a barrage of rockets in response to some of the Ruin Guards attempting to fire their own at it. The Ruin Guards didn't stand a chance.

As the smoke and dust cleared after the resulting explosions, Bennett came to the realization that the machine wasn't even trying at all.

It was barely even bothering to acknowledge any of the rockets sent its way, it was barely even acknowledging the existence of any obstacles in its way as it continued to simply move around the ruins by plowing straight through stone walls and whatever pillars remained, and Bennett realized it was barely even using any of the actual weapons it was visibly carrying around as it simply stuck to using its blade and ramming into the Ruin Guards after it saw the destruction it caused with its rockets.

In fact, Bennett realized this was barely even about getting rid of the Ruin Guards at all.

As his mind processed that there was only one singular Ruin Guard left, this was all about protecting him.

The charge in the beginning of the battle was meant to draw their attention from him and take the battle somewhere else far away from Bennett. It only used its rockets once, and that was after it was already very far away.

Most of the time, it was only using its blade, and soon Bennett saw one of the reasons why.

The one remaining Ruin Guard didn't have time to react before the much larger machine protecting Bennett jabbed it through the midsection with its blade, but it didn't fall to the ground after it was stabbed. Instead, the light coming from it changed to match the light coming from the larger machine and its blade, and after the blade was pulled out from it, it simply remained standing completely still.

Bennett turned and saw that the other Ruin Guard and several others that had been stabbed were all standing still too, unmoving but fully functional.

He couldn't dwell on it much however, as the larger machine turned around to look at him with its numerous... eyes? They certainly didn't look like human eyes, but Bennett thought they looked similar to a Kamera one of his dads in the Adventurers' Guild had once.

It stepped closer, its movements deliberate and careful with its hands raised in a placating gesture as it slowly approached him before it stopped some distance away from him.

Bennett heard something crackling to life somewhere inside the machine.

"... Are you alright?"

~

~ A lot of things can happen when you're Diluc, and a lot of things can happen when you're the Darknight Hero. However, a giant machine probably the size of several houses and then some carrying Bennett (who was barely even the size of what could be called its pinky finger) in one of its massive hands asking him where the nearest Knights of Favonius official is was not something he expected to encounter tonight. Bennett cheerfully waved at him from his perch, a big grin plastered on his face as Diluc could only stare at him in shock. Diluc idly wondered how he looked right now. He had recently gone to the Dawn Winery after Adelinde reported "strange things happening near the Winery." He had barely started his patrol when he saw a massive explosion in the distance before meeting the machine and Bennett soon after when he journeyed towards there to investigate, so the Darknight Hero was standing in a field with his neck craned up to look at the massive machine looming above him. His face was blank and neutral, something he had trained over the years, but his inner confusion threatened to bubble over. Diluc wondered if this was the strangest thing he'd ever encountered in his life, or if this was going to be the strangest for the foreseeable future. Probably not. Actually, most definitely not. Something deep in his gut told him that things are just gonna get wilder from here on out. He drew a deep breath in order to collect himself, before clearing his throat and speaking up in his diplomatic voice. "I will take you to where you can find the nearest official member of the Knights of Favonius, but I am afraid you are going to have to be the ones to explain... how should one put this, whatever the situation is and- everything, frankly. I hope that will not be a problem for the two of you?" "No, it won't be." The machine answered, its voice crackling with some kind of static noise. Diluc almost reeled as he took note of how the machine spoke... precise, blunt, and straight to the point. Almost like- "Yup! No worries Master Diluc, we should be all fine from this point here on out! Let us proceed to our next destination, my stalwart steed of valiant steel!" Bennett yelled, visibly bubbling with excitement as he gestured towards the city with his hands. The machine was still looking at him, but Diluc could basically feel the way it was looking at him had changed. It must've noticed his reaction to how it spoke, but before long it chose to instead back off a bit and give him some space. Gathering himself to the best of his ability and refocusing on the task at hand, Diluc gestured to the both of them. "Follow me." ~

~ Mondstadt looked... peaceful, during this time of the night. Diluc had gone ahead to inform the Knights about your and Bennett's arrival, but the latter boy had made no move to leave his spot on your hand. In fact he seemed rather content, he was swinging his legs from his perch high above the ground to the tune of a song in his head only he could hear as the both of you waited across the bridge that lead into the city. The two guards posted in front of the city gates exchanged glances between you and themselves every now and then, sometimes speaking in hushed tones and whispers, but otherwise kept a commendably professional posture as they too awaited Diluc to return with the rest of the Knights of Favonius. It was remarkably silent, come to think of it. ... Except for the growing number of people not so subtly gathering behind the city gates as they too, noticed your presence. Many of them took note of Bennett's presence on your hand, but worryingly you weren't sure if most of them took that as a good thing or as a sign that his bad luck had brought trouble to Mondstadt itself. (You had to almost wrangle your targeting system from singling out targets from the crowd when your audial systems picked up some of them downright whisper-yelling that "Bad Luck Bennett" did in fact bring nothing but chaos and trouble to their doorstep. You did not mind people badmouthing you, nor did you blame them for being afraid of you especially after the explosions you assume they all saw from the distance, but something about them saying things like that about Bennett activated some protective instinct buried deep inside your processors.) "Make way! Make way for the Knights of Favonius!" The crowd parted, revealing Diluc and Jean with the rest of the Knights as they slowly marched their way through the crowd. It wasn't hard to notice the way their expressions shifted as they took in just how massive you were. You let Diluc go first into the city across the too-small bridge for a reason, even kneeling on one knee as you were doing right now you absolutely towered over them, at full height you were probably tall enough to look over the city walls and look down upon the city itself. It really wouldn't be that hard for you to just ram straight through the city walls like a sledgehammer going through a house of cards, now that you think of it. Remarkably however, Jean managed to keep her composure strictly professional as she craned her neck to look up at you and Bennett as she prepared to address you. However, as she opened her mouth, someone else came barreling in. Klee barely even seemed out of breath after her sprint as she came to a full stop right in front of Jean before excitedly yelling, "WAS IT YOU?!" Your optics blinked. Jean could only balk in surprise as Klee took your silence as confirmation and continued her onslaught of questions. "HOW DID YOU MAKE SUCH A BRIGHT BANG?! WHAT KIND OF GUNPOWDER DID YOU USE?! HOW MUCH DID YOU NEED?! DID YOU EVEN USE GUNPOWDER?! WHAT DID YOU USE?!?!" Your processors kicked into overdrive as you processed her questions, before you went screw it and opened up your shoulder compartment. Klee's eyes were practically shining as she watched one of your rocket launchers, the one you used in your fight against the Ruin Guards, slowly transformed into shape and the missiles it housed within became visible. For a moment, all was silent. "LET'S GO BLOW UP SOMETHING!" "KLEE, NO!" ~ End of Chapter 1 ~ Apologies again if there are any grammar errors and / or lore inaccuracies! This is the second ever fic I've written and it's... 4 AM in the morning where I live since I had to write every single last word again in 3 hours due to an error that erased literally everything (rip) and you can probably tell my poor grasp of English and even poorer memory was a pain in the butt as I wrote this, but I hope you all enjoyed this nonetheless! I'll finish writing the other chapters soon, hopefully they all don't get erased too but until then I hope you all have a great day!

#brainrot #brainrot n ideas series #mecha!reader #sagau brainrot #sagau #self aware au #you can probably tell but i was very much inspired by armored core when it came to mecha!reader #not sure if i should tag it since this fic isnt strictly armored core but credit for the mecha images goes to armored core 6's trailers! #i am a big fan of ac's mecha designs not gonna lie

[pinkandpurple360]

i refuse to acknowledge viv’s patreon/twitter like canon of “ozzie never had feelings ever until fizz bc fizz is that speshul” and instead play into his string of failed relationships with sarah, lilith, and make some bs up for solomon too for ✨spice✨. then he can get with fizz and have the spirit of love return to him or something. or maybe even another character. i enjoy fizzarozzie but some of your posts got me thinking of an au where fizz either leaves him for blitzo or dies, and ozzie meets someone new and has conflicting feelings about it

Viv that would be kinda silly and childish. Not to mention recycling Stolas’ story. But. To be fair Twitter likes aren’t always canonised but still.

Asmodeus is thousands of years old. Has met millions of people. It would make sooo much better sense if he was hurt by a failed relationship and that’s why he resents love. Or if he saw his past lovers outlive him and leave, causing him to avoid attachments but when he does, he gets too protective and feels very insecure.

The Sarah and Lilith stories are a perfect opportunity to make Ozzie have some depth, past pain, and have moments where he is a bad person because he is a sin, hello?

I hate to think of Fizz dying and honestly prefer a mature scenario where Fizz sits him down after a while when problems have been building up for a long time, and they talk, not sing or dance, or cry dramatically, but talk.

I wrote this for my fic Trouble in Rented Paradise but here heck it, I’ll spoil some of the breakup I wrote:

“Oz, we both know this wasn’t meant to be forever. You helped me when I needed it, you put me back together. I’ll always be grateful for that. You were my partner when I lost my. When I lost everything. But. Like you said, i need to step off the stage, out of the spotlight. I don’t want you to watch me die slowly, while you stay here, all alone”

“But fizz, maybe, maybe if we just marry, you can be my queen, forever! Just you and me. Don’t you want that?”

“I.. don’t want to either stay in lust forever, with eyes around me, or for the duration of my time. It’s just that I don’t…belong here, it’s not home to me. not really. So. No Oz..I’m sorry, but I don’t want that. To be bound to anybody eternally. It feels wrong.

I’m an imp and no better than any other mortal. And I don’t think you really want this either. You value your freedom as much as I value mine. You could never really relax while trying to take care of me and watch over me. Protecting me from others. I love you so, so much. But I also love my friends, my family, my colleagues, the people who raised me and stayed by my side, too. And I have an opportunity to reconnect with them again, after so much time! I know it’s not fair..but I need you to not be my whole world. And I’m not your whole world. You have a huge family, you have your staff, the sins, the Goetia”

“Those stuck up birds and those other freaks like Mammon??! They—-I’m sorry..I don’t mean to raise my voice. But they just dont. They don’t care about me. And I don’t about them”

“I know that’s not true. Bee is your sister. Mam is a clown but you’ll need to end your feud someday. That prince stolas guy from Ozzie’s, he annoys you, but I can tell when you scolded him about his wife and daughter, it came from a place of care. Then he helped you save me when he didn’t really have to. I think that family, especially the children, need some help. Guidance. Something only you and Bee have the power to give. I know you’re good with kids, you just get nervous”

“I guess, but you see too much good in people sometimes fizz”

“Maybe but. I feel like I’m seeing clearly right now. I’d like to drop the curtain on this without shattering your heart beyond repair, and I don’t want the show to go on forever either.”

“Please, Fizz”

“Please Asmodeus, let me go. It’s not that there’s someone else. This, is for me. And it’s for you. Before I go, and after I go. Just do one thing for me?”

“Yes? Anything for you”

“Whenever you’re alone, or lonely, even when you don’t want to see anybody. Please try to keep the doors open ok? No more shutting people out.”

“…I’ll try”

This conversation will definitely be back and forth for several days. And they’ll still be intimate a few times before drifting apart. But it wouldn’t result in a broken heart that is irreparable. Only a slightly crooked one that they can clean up together.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss #fizzarozzie critical

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 20

alright guys hit the showers. or the bathhouse. wait hold on i left my computer boy in there. guys wait don't open that

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

wow i wrote 10 pages for chapter 19 but i better take it easy so i dont burn out (writes 11 pages for chapter 20) anyway guess who's taking a break after this chapter

this is the one with togiri development but they're extremely not normal about it so it's almost blink-and-you-miss-it

@digitaldollsworld <- betapilled readmaxxer

Content warning tags: mild violence and injury description (non-graphic), description of depression symptoms and nausea, mild mention of eating disorder

< previous - from start - next >

He’s not sure how long he sleeps for, only that he wakes up still-dressed and laid out across his bed, his mouth dry and head groggy, the bedroom lights still on. As he checks his handbook’s clock, he finds he’s entirely missed Monokuma’s morning announcement, which is a good thing; he had no desire to listen to that bear’s irritating voice, especially not today.

But, he doesn’t have much desire to do anything else either. The library no longer feels like the safe haven it used to be, and he had no interest in going anywhere else and running into anyone else, when the atmosphere was still thick with the deaths of two people, and pity that Byakuya didn’t want. Much less, the possibility of encountering Makoto, who was the last person he wanted to see, so to speak.

He lies in bed a moment longer, unwilling to move. Everything feels sluggish, like he’s moving underwater; even his head feels stuffed full with cotton and wool. It's a strange, unfamiliar feeling, and unpleasant, too.

Grief. He thinks blearily at first, before rolling his own eyes at the thought, and pushing himself up with a grunt. Such dramatics didn’t suit him. He wasn't the kind of person to spare such theatrics, regardless of his circumstances.

He showers, brushes his teeth, and half-debates whether to try his hand at shaving before ultimately deciding against it (it didn’t feel like his stubble should be that noticeable, yet). He forgoes changing into a clean uniform in favor of his pajamas, and collapses back into bed with a sigh, hand searching immediately for his handbook - but finding nothing but empty sheets.

“Hello, there!”

He jerks upright immediately. Standing in the foot of his bed is Monokuma, rocking back and forth and looking as innocent as could be. Or, would be, if not for the handbook clutched in its paw.

Byakuya dives for it without thinking, but his perception is off, and he crashes to the carpet instead with a grunt. Monokuma sidesteps him casually with a laugh. “Whoa, there! Easy partner, don’t wanna hurt yourself!” It dances around his head, infuriatingly out of reach. “Didja miss me that bad? If you wanna hug, you can just say so!”

“Give it back,” He snarls, as he picks himself up. He’s in no mood for its jokes. “Give me back my handbook!”

“Your handbook? My my, but these were all mine first, weren’t they?” It shakes a paw disapprovingly in his face. “I just need to check it real quick, after all. I didn’t expect Mister Fujisaki to go and Macgyver anything onto here, so if it’s anything malicious, I’ll have to do a quick wipey-wipe!” Byakuya makes another lunge, and it juggles the handbook out of his reach, hopping backwards with a mad cackle. “After all, if it’s anything naughty, there’s no way I can let it fall in the hands of my precious students!”

“You miserable little-” Byakuya tries to rise to his feet quickly, but he hasn’t eaten since yesterday, and a bout of dizziness crashes into him like a wave. He sways and braces himself against the mattress, one arm still reaching out clumsily to try and grab at Monokuma.

But the bear has already flipped it open, scrolling so quickly through the screens that the little automated voice can’t keep up, the words blurring together. “Schoo-Stu-App-Day-”

“Whoops, too far.” It scrolls back. “Applications, that’s what we wanna see. And, what’s this?”

Byakuya feels his blood run cold. There was only one application there, the one Chihiro had downloaded for him. Alter Ego. The app was inconspicuously named ‘Test_App’ in the interface itself, but if Monokuma opened it-

“Well well well. Let’s take a look-see!” It crows, and Byakuya’s protest is frozen in his throat. He shuts his eyes, expecting to hear Chihiro’s voice-

“Black to E5.”

He opens his eyes again. What?

Monokuma also seems confused, tilting its head as it stares at the little screen. “What’s this? A chessboard?”

“Black to E5,” Alter Ego repeats, so digitized and monotone it was nearly unrecognizable. “Would you like to review the board?”

“Is this all it is? A chess game?” Monokuma sounds almost disappointed. Byakuya, seeing his chance, surges forward, snatching the handbook back and snapping it closed. He presses it to his chest, feeling his heart thud beneath it.

“Is that a problem?” He demands, and Monokuma shrugs, shaking its head.

“I guess not, but I thought it’d be something spicy, y’know? You’re a growing boy, after all!” It reaches out to pat Byakuya’s knee, and he steps backwards just in time, lip curling in disgust. “Aw, don’t act so mean to your headmaster, you’ll give me a complex!”

“Get out.” He hisses. “You got what you came here for. Leave.”

“Oh, alright…you sure know how to make a bear feel glum...” It sighs, kicking at the carpet, before it makes its way to the door. “Take care, now! Make sure you eat something, y’hear? I don’t want any hunger strikes in this house! And-”

No sooner had Monokuma crossed the threshold, had Byakuya jumped up, and sped forward to slam the door with a resounding bang. He takes a moment to breathe, leaning against the wall, legs suddenly weak.

How the hell did that thing get inside my room? He was sure he had locked the door - or he should have locked it, at least. Looking back, he actually can’t remember, but he double and triple-checks now, suddenly paranoid. He also flips off the light for good measure, leaving the room in complete darkness before he crawls back into bed.

Beneath the covers, he opens his handbook, and squints until he can make out the pale green shape of Alter Ego’s face on the screen.

“Is he gone?” Alter Ego asks, and Byakuya relaxes, the tension flooding out of his shoulders.

“Yes.” He whispers back.

Alter Ego makes a sound like a sigh of relief. “I’m glad. I got so scared when he grabbed me.” And its voice sounds so much like Chihiro's that Byakuya feels a strange pressure behind his eyes.

“How did you know?” He asks. “That Monokuma was there?”

“I could hear it. Through the microphone.” He reaches up and touches the tiny pinprick grid of the speaker, and feels the buzz of Alter Ego’s voice against his fingertips. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Don’t worry about me. I think he would’ve just deleted you as punishment for me anyway.” He sighs. And then frowns, as a thought comes to mind. “If you could eavesdrop from the microphone this whole time, then you already know…?”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. But he doesn’t need to. Alter Ego makes a quiet noise like a sigh. “Yes, I know.”

“I’m sorry.” And he’s surprised to find that he means it genuinely, and almost laughs at himself. Heartfelt apologies were rare for him, and here he was offering one to an AI, of all things.

“It’s okay. He knew it might happen,” Alter Ego replies, and he imagines it might be smiling, a sad, helpless smile. “There’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“No, I suppose not.”

They’re quiet for a moment. In the darkness, Byakuya can almost pretend that he’s normal - unable to see in the dark as everyone else is. But it’s also the middle of the day, and he’s too restless to sleep, too uneasy to go outside. Too tired to mourn. Too mournful to do anything else.

“Can you really play chess?” He asks instead.

“I can, along with checkers, shogi, and backgammon and more.” 

“Play a round of chess with me, then. I’m bored.”

“Okay!” Immediately, the pale blot of their face on the screen is replaced by a square. “I’ll play black. What’s your first move?”

He smiles to himself. “E2, pawn to E4.”

—

Hours pass like that. He plays chess with Alter Ego (three wins, four losses, and seven draws), and a few rounds of shogi (one win, one loss, and two draws) for good measure. And then, huddled over his desk with his back facing the camera, he pores over lines of Dostoevsky and Nietzsche until he feels too sick from staring at the letters to even hear Alter Ego’s voice, reciting the words aloud beneath a dim ringing in his ears.

By the time he’s pulled out of his concentration by the sound of a knocking at his door, he’s too nauseous to feel hungry, but his throat is stinging from lack of water and there’s a slight pulsing in his head. His immediate first reaction is to ignore it, but that proves to be impossible; whoever was on the other side was clearly, very persistent, and had nothing better to do.

Even so, he lasts a full five minutes until he finally gets up to answer, irritated beyond measure. If it was Makoto, he was going to slam it closed again, reasons be damned. He didn’t even want to think about the other boy, lest he get pointlessly enraged about it.

But instead of brown hair, he’s met with pale white. Kirigiri stands at his threshold, hand partially raised, halfway through knocking, and they stare at each for a moment in silence, as if both surprised to find the other person there.

And then he slams the door shut in her face. Or tries to - instead of the satisfying bang of wood meeting wood, there’s a sickly crunch, and then she’s wrenching the door open, heedless of the way her fingers had just been crushed in the jamb. He almost winces in sympathy, but she’s too busy pushing her way in to offer much room for condolences.

“What is wrong with you?!” He demands, trying not to be too obviously perturbed by her lack of reaction; he doesn’t think he even heard her wince. She ignores him for a moment, attention focused on her hand, as she experimentally clenches and unclenches her fingers. Apparently they’re not broken, or maybe, she just had high pain tolerance. Or she was more insane than he thought.

“We’re calling a group meeting,” She replies, without so much as a waver. “Come to the bathhouse.”

“And why should I?”

“It’s important. I can drag you there if I have to.” It doesn’t sound like an empty threat either. Somehow, she seems impatient, though he’s not sure how he can tell; and it wasn’t just because she shoved her hand into the door in order to deliver the message.

He weighs his options - on one hand, he has no desire to speak with anyone, much less Makoto, who was bound to be there. On the other hand, he didn’t exactly have anything in the way of provisions in his room, and though he was still a little too light-headed to consider eating, it’d be embarrassing to collapse from dehydration at this point. That, and it seemed that Kirigiri had no intention of letting him refuse.

“...I’m going to get dressed first.” He says shortly. If he’s going to have to meet them, it will not be while he’s still in his pajamas.

“Hurry up.”

She makes no move to leave, and he realizes with no small amount of annoyance that she was making sure he wouldn’t be able to run or shut her out again. Somewhat affronted by this, and now wanting to go even less, he grabs a clean set of clothes from his dresser and goes to the bathroom.

Routine carries his hands through the motions, so he manages it relatively quick, but it’s only after he’s applying the finishing touches, that he nearly pokes himself in the eye as he reaches to adjust his glasses. It’s a strange sensation, feeling the bridge of his nose and finding nothing, and even though his original prescription was low and they were more an accessory than anything, he feels a little like he’s lost a limb.

She’s still there when he emerges, though now standing over his desk, bent over the books he has open. She looks up as he approaches, one hand halfway through turning a page.

“What?” He asks, chin turned up in challenge.

“Nothing. Just looking.” She closes the book, and he realizes, scandalized, that it was the one he was reading earlier. It was going to take him ages to find that page again. “You have predictable tastes.”

“Shut up. Are we going or not?”

He follows her out, his hands twitching all the while, smoothing down his shirt, his lapels, his sleeves. Making sure his buttons were lined up, that his shirt was tucked; he hadn’t had the time to put on garters or even try a hand at his tie, and he feels underdressed.

“You’re fine.” Kirigiri says suddenly, and he freezes, one hand resting on the button of a shirt cuff. “Stop fidgeting.”

He scowls. He was walking behind her, so what would she know. “I’m not fidgeting.”

“I can hear you fidgeting. Your buttons are fine.”

“Oh, can you hear my buttons now too?”

It’s a petty, childish remark, one that he can’t stop himself from muttering before he can even reconsider it. She stops at that, halting so suddenly in the middle of the hallway that he almost walks right into her, and turns around to face him, her head moving in a slow tilt from up to down - scanning me, he realizes - before she says: “You look fine. Are you quite done?”

She was checking for me. He’s not sure if he should feel grateful for the courtesy or irritated by her lack of grace. “Did the sound bother you that much?” He asks instead, patting down the front of his shirt one last time.

“...It wasn’t the sound.” Is all she says, with a sort of finality that indicated that no other questions would be answered on the topic.

They enter the bathhouse, and find everyone else there, gathered in a sort of semi-circle around the wall of lockers. Asahina and Ogami, predictably, are huddled close together on one of the benches. Celeste and Yamada sit on another bench, one fidgeting uneasily, the other sitting regally with legs crossed and hands folded. Hagakure is standing next to Owada, who doesn’t even stir when they walk in, and who Byakuya ignores in turn, gaze sliding past him uncomfortably. Fukawa hangs near the back of the group, and twitches when she sees him, though makes no move to approach.

Makoto is leaning against the lockers with hands tucked in his pockets. He looks up as they enter, and stands up straight immediately. “Ah-”

“We’re all here?” Kirigiri cuts him off, casting a glance around the room. “Good. Can you catch him up, Hina?”

“R-right,” Asahina looks between Kirigiri and Byakuya, then at Makoto, and seems to hesitate for a moment. “Um, so…last night, I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d go to the kitchen to get food. But on the way there, I heard something coming from the bathhouse - like, a weird, machine-y kind of sound? - and when I went in…”

She peters off. He raises an eyebrow, “And?”

“Uh, it’s going to sound a little ridiculous...”

“You act like nothing else is ridiculous about this situation. Get on with it.”

Her face flushes dark, embarrassed. He gets the feeling that Ogami is glaring at him, but since he can’t see it - and has no reason to act like he can see it, anyways - he ignores it easily.

“Right. I saw a ghost - I know it was a ghost,” She adds defensively, as Byakuya was preparing to scoff and roll his eyes. “It was glowing green and floating in front of the lockers, and…and it had Chihiro’s face.”

“That’s-” not a ghost, he’s about to say, but he stops, suddenly uncertain. The bathhouse had no cameras, but he wasn’t sure if Alter Ego’s existence should be revealed here, now, to everyone, especially given some of the individuals present. His hand reaches into his jacket pocket, where his handbook was. “That’s…and you’re sure it was Chihiro?”

She seems taken aback by how seriously he asks that, and nods quickly. “I know it was Chihiro! It was his face and everything!” She points in front of her, at a locker less than two meters away from her eye level. The exact locker, Byakuya thinks, where Chihiro was keeping his laptop.

He wonders if Makoto was thinking this too.

“...I highly doubt the existence of ghosts,” He sighs. There was no point trying to hide it with Kirigiri around, and better to do it now than later. “Instead of being in front of the locker, I think the thing you saw was inside it.”

He turns to the locker Asahina had indicated, and moves to unlock it - before realizing he doesn’t know how. If it was unlocked by key, he didn’t have it, and if by code it was even more impossible. But Kirigiri steps forward, nudging his arm out of the way, and the locker door clicks open under her hand.

Sitting inside is the laptop, its screen dark. After a moment, it hums to life, flickering green. A round, pale shape forms, and behind him, Byakuya hears someone gasp.

“Hello,” Alter Ego says, and their voice is clearer through the computer than through Byakuya’s handbook, and sounds so similar to Chihiro’s that it’s almost jarring. “It’s nice to meet everyone!”

Hagakure shrieks, arms thrown up in fear. “A g-g-gh-!”

“It’s not a ghost,” Byakuya cuts him off sharply. “It’s a program.”

“Yes, and it looks like something Chihiro made.” Kirigiri touches the keys lightly. “This computer was the broken one from the library. And the fact that it was placed here, out of sight of the mastermind, means that it was meant for us.”

“So, this is what I saw last night…” Asahina’s tone doesn’t sound uneasy anymore, but wondering, and she raises a tentative hand as the little Chihiro in the screen waves at her. “But, what is it?”

“You just asked, ‘what is it,’ right?” Alter Ego says, almost teasingly, making her and several others jump. “The short answer is, I’m an AI program based on as much of Chihiro Fujisaki’s personality, memories, and thoughts as he managed to transcribe into data…um, but if it’s easier for you, you can call me Alter Ego. I was made to try and break through the firewall around the school’s network and to analyze the files on this computer, but it’s been taking a long time. I’m only about 25% done.”

25%? That was already more than Byakuya expected, and he feels a thin, inexplicable strum of pride.

“Crazy…hey, isn’t this crazy?” Yamada is up from his seat, and sitting as close as he can, crouching on his heels to be eye-level with the screen. “This is so- so totally sci-fi, right? Isn’t the genre wrong?” He sounds excited, overly so, and his breath is a little fevered and fast. “Hey, Chihiro! Can you hear us?”

Alter Ego doesn’t respond. Byakuya suddenly remembers the night that Chihiro was installing the application on his handbook and how Alter Ego only ever responded after the sound of keystrokes. “You have to type what you want to say in order for it to respond.”

“Move.” Yamada scurries out of Kirigiri’s way, as she drops to a crouch in front of the open locker. There’s the sound of fingers clicking over keys, and then -

“It will take me a while longer to finish analyzing everything,” Alter Ego says aloud, a little sheepishly. “I can definitely finish it though! Actually, progress is moving faster than originally predicted, so you can leave it to me!”

“My, how dependable.” Celeste remarks. “It seems that Chihiro has left us an invaluable gift, does it not?”

“It’s…pretty crazy,” Hagakure agrees, scratching his head. “Wait, uh - can Alter Ego get online? Like can we call for help from outside?”

“Hmm, probably not.” Asahina hums in thought, crossing her arms. “We’re in a bathhouse after all.”

“Then, if we take it outside of here-”

“No.” Kirigiri says flatly. “We can’t take any risks. Taking it outside might mean that the mastermind will discover it.”

“Yeah, but, I think it’s better to get help sooner than later. You know…” He pauses for a moment, tilting his head pointedly towards Owada. Throughout this whole time, the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader had been as still as a mouse, face turned downwards towards the floor. Hagakure clears his throat awkwardly. “Can’t we try it?”

There’s a sharp tap as Celeste laces her fingers, rings clicking together. “As stated earlier. We cannot take unnecessary risks. And we are not in the position to be pointlessly altruistic.” Her tone is casual, but Hagakure seems to shrink away from her, defeated.

“I…okay. Fine, sure.” He scratches at his head, then pauses. “Ah, wait a minute. Does Alter Ego, like, know…?

His question peters off, but the implication hangs over them like a heavy fog. Byakuya watches them cast uneasy glances at each other, then back to Alter Ego, as if trying to figure out who should break the news.

“It already knows.” He mutters. He’s not trying to be loud, but in the silence everyone could hear it anyways.

“...Not to say you’re lying or anything, Byakuya, but how do you…?”

Instead of answering Hagakure out loud, he reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws the handbook, flipping it open and holding it up, screen facing them. Someone gasps.

“Yes,” Alter Ego confirms their unspoken question, and its voice echoes uncannily, doubled between the laptop and his handbook. “Master made it so I can be accessed through Byakuya’s handbook, so I could assist him with his visual impairment. I can also access the microphone function on this device, so I was able…I was able to overhear what happened”

The little, buzzing voice trails off sadly, and Byakuya suddenly feels uncomfortable, as the room grows all the more dreary. He clicks the handbook closed, suddenly irritated.

“That should explain it.“ He sighs. “Chihiro built Alter Ego to try and help find a way out of here, and at the same time gave me access so I could be self-sufficient. That’s the extent of my knowledge about it.”

He looks up and finds nearly all of them with their faces tilted towards him, and shifts, disconcerted. “What?”

“Nothing…it’s just kinda sweet that you’re, like, telling us this yourself.” Hagakure, ridiculously, sounds almost happy about this. “You never really talked to us about yourself before.”

“There’s no point in being secretive about it. Not when I was already forced to reveal it during the trial.” He sniffs. Immediately, Hagakure looks away, chagrined. From Byakuya’s periphery, he can see Makoto still facing away, his ears turning pink.

Kirigiri clears her throat. “...For the time being, it’s clear that we need to ensure Alter Ego remains a secret from the mastermind.” She says, and Byakuya watches as she types something out, a thick line of black characters. Every few keystrokes, she stops, and deletes the last word in a series of light clicks; listening closer, the sound was awkward and irregular, each press slurring into the next key. With a slight twinge of guilt, he realizes that the cause of it was her left hand - the one he had practically crushed.

After a moment’s consideration, weighing his conscience with what was at stake, he nudges her slightly with his knee. “Move. You type too slow.”

“And how would you know that?”

“I can hear it.” He replies flatly. “You type like you’re all thumbs. Move over.”

He half-expects her to stay where she is, to ignore him and continue, but to his surprise she actually complies, standing up and stepping aside. He crouches into the space she had just abandoned, sliding his hands over the keyboard until his index fingers find the tiny, tell-tale grooves of the position keys. The size and dimensions are different from his computer at home, but for a moment the feeling is so familiar that he’s almost nostalgic.

“What did you want to ask again?”

“If it has any contingency measures in place for if Monokuma - or the mastermind, or anyone suspicious - happens to find it.”

His fingers skim over the keys, clicking fluidly. A thin line of black appears at the bottom of the screen in time to his movements, but he can’t confirm if the output is accurate; judging by the way Makoto gasps behind him, and the way Hagakure whistles, he can guess that it’s more or less correct.

“Impressive,” Celeste says, in an appreciative tone. “I suppose being such an esteemed heir means you have many talents.”

He can’t tell if she’s mocking him, so he decides to ignore her, though he allows himself a small amount of smugness. He finishes typing: “Is this what you wanted to ask?”

Instead of replying, Kirigiri leans over his shoulder and clicks the ‘enter’ button. After a moment’s pause:

“Hm, to be honest, so far I’ve just been trying to be reeeally careful with when I’m active…though I guess that backfired last night, with me scaring Aoi.” Alter Ego hums in thought. “But, I do have a secret plan! If anyone comes around who I don’t recognize on my webcam…I’ll scream super loud!”

“That’s so basic!” Asahina blurts out, shocked by the simple nature of it.

“Yes, and it’s not likely to work at night.” Ogami grumbles. “The bedrooms are soundproofed.”

“Maybe we can try taking turns staying up?” Makoto suggests. “I can take the first night, I don’t mind…”

“I think such a sudden change in our patterns is likely to draw suspicion from the mastermind. Which would be rather counterproductive.” Celeste says, and Makoto ducks his head immediately. “Though, your thoughtfulness is appreciated.”

“Then it can’t be helped.” Kirigiri sighs. “I’ll leave my door open. I’m at the end of the hallway anyways, so if anything happens, I should be able to react the quickest.”

What a crazy woman. “You’d leave yourself vulnerable?” He scoffs. After all the precautions he’s seen her take, it’s hard to imagine her sacrificing herself to any degree.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Besides, I’m not so helpless. I have no intention of going down without a fight.” She pauses, mouth open like she’s about to say more, before she decides against it. “Anyways. We should avoid any mention or contact with Alter Ego as much as possible, to draw as little attention as we can.”

She claps her hands sharply, a sound that makes more than one person jump, and makes Byakuya almost flinch. “For the time being…let’s disperse.”

< previous - from start - next >

#thpff #danganronpa fanfiction #thpff chapters #togiri #<- bc i wrote this with togiri intent. for the togiri truthers #byakuya togami #the h in chihiro stands for. haunting the narrative!!!!! #i was writing this chapter on the plane with my computer brightness turned alllll the way down #byakuya can't really read kyoko's reaction and therefore sees it as super nonchalant. and i know that with her scars it probably didnt hurt #but i also wanna imagine her tearing up like. motherfucking ow?? #swearing under her breath and stamping her foot while he's changing and having to play it off like she was just looking at his books #both of them feeling somewhat guilty for the other person's situation and trying to help but only by way of insulting them #like 'ugh i cant believe you. fine i'll do this but only bc i dont wanna have to deal with you' as they try to compensate for each other #sorry not much naegami but theyre divorced rn and everyone's busy mourning and stuff #naegami development: they have a moment of humility and intimacy and sleep in the same bed #togiri development: he accidentally slams her hand in the door and doesnt apologize #HIROO my friend hiroo......ily hiro and how much u care sobb #anyways im taking a break after this. sob. wails.

[poorwritingandstalecoffee]

Hello darling, I would love to send a request to you. If possible, would you be able to do a LarissaxReader fic where the reader is a werewolf(similar to those in twilight). Reader protects Larissa from either the Hyde or another monster but gets injured, leading to Larissa getting to care for them. Would love to see your take on this, also your ghost of you fic was simply amazing. Hope to read more from you soon

I love this idea!! While writing, I kind of spiraled into an inspiration hole and wrote more than I intended, so I'm splitting this up into two parts. Here is the first part; consider it like a prequel to what is about to happen to reader with the Hyde.

blood and bones

TW: gore, blood, murder, body parts talk

Rating: 16+

It was like flying—running in your wolf form. Your paws barely touch the ground as muscles coil and release relentlessly to send you hurtling through the air. Some werewolves even relate the feeling to free-falling, only on the ground. Once you reach a certain pace, your body becomes a weightless heap of blood and bones soaring in the air. Your stomach lifts and your heart pumps overtime in adrenaline while the wind around you becomes an overwhelming mixture of air particles and gravity. Your speed becomes your enemy and your lover all at once, and it's a dance of death to stop yourself from careening into your demise. It's addictive; the greatest and deadliest feeling werewolves can ever feel within a mere second.

**

You didn't understand how you were led to this moment; it's not like anyone ever tells you how dying will feel or even what to expect. It's nearly painless, and you almost miss it by the sheer spontaneity and speed it occurs. But then again, you always did feel like your body was racing through life in one ginormous free fall, and only one person was ever able to catch you.

She stole the breath right out from your burning lungs and breathed it right back into you in the same instance. It drew you to her and still knocks you to your knees—her ability to shock and calm you within a single exhale.

You just hope it's enough—your speed, power, exertion, strength, and your complete love and adoration for her—that you are enough to save her. To pull her back from the brink of death and send you soaring in to take her place.

**

When Wednesday tells you Thornhill is the Hyde’s master, the air grows cold for the rest of the night. Possibly indicating the dangerous, looming actions that would occur that night, but you didn't have time to read into it.

Immediately you brought her and the news to Larissa’s attention. Together you two convinced her to use her shapeshifting ability to help deceive Marilyn Laurel into giving herself away. It worked like a charm; she almost too easily maneuvered to Wednesday’s strings of taunting manipulation. So in a way, you were expecting her to do something, just trying to jam a needle into Larissa’s neck wasn't what you had in mind.

Due to your werewolf abilities, you picked up on her moves quicker. Something was about to happen, and one of three would die, but not by her hand if you had a say in the matter. Your ears twitched at the sound of the poisonous liquid sloshing in the needle, and the smell of a sickly bitter toxin filled your nose. The second you caught a glimmer of glass reflecting in her hand, your eyes saw red, and your muscles instinctively reacted, propelling you forward in front of Larissa. A strong hand shot out and caught Thornhill’s, and using your strength, you crushed the carpal bones and snapped the ends of her radius and ulna. Her wrist bent backward at a gruesome angle, and the needle went flying before crashing into the wall behind her.

Her pained-filled scream echoed in the room, and you couldn't deny savoring the sound before imagining your hands ripping her arms from the shoulder sockets so she could never harm another soul again. “Mmmm, what will it be?” Your musings turned into growls as you stalked towards her, the broken wrist clamped in your hand to prevent her escape.

Larissa gaped at you in horror or wonder; you couldn't tell. Wednesday, however, smirked devilishly at you, no doubt congratulating herself for predicting your actions and you matching her expectations. Her eyes turned toward Laurel with calm, cold, deadly intent. “Your schemes are over, Laurel, the dead will remain where they are, and you might just greet them in your grave.”

“No! Wednesday, she must be handed to the authorities and incarcerated for her crimes. She will not escape the consequences of her heinous actions with death.” Larissa moved to stand between the girl and Laurel, admittedly putting her closer to you and your murderous yet protective frame.

As her eyes swept over your guarded stance, tensed arms, and sharp eyes, she surprised herself at feeling safer and somewhat at ease near you. Granted, you placed yourself directly in the line of fire to protect her from Thornhill. That and your protective, shielding nature directed toward her brought up fresh feelings she has been working on burying for weeks to no avail.

“Oh, believe me, she will have what she is due from my hands. Neither death nor jail bars would suffice to what she will rightly feel from me.” You replied to Larissa, chuckling darkly with a feral growl. Laurel’s terrified gasp had you inching towards her, black claws extending.

A soft, firm hand on your bicep stopped you, and Larissa’s voice urged you to look at her. “Y/n,” she shook her head, a grim look on her face, and it almost made you feel guilty enough to back off, almost. “Despite what she had done…you can’t. It would only solidify the normie’s image of us as dangerous.”

You moved in front of her, mere inches from her face. Ignoring the cry of pain from Thornhill, you whispered intently, “She is dangerous. Think of what she has done to countless outcast students and normies, to YOU!” Your eyes darkened, and Larissa blushed slightly from their intensity. “You want justice? Metal bars will do nothing but buy her time to enact more bloodshed against innocents Larissa. Do you want her to pay and remember it? To feel it and regret it? Leave her to my teeth and claws. She tried to kill our students. She tried to kill you, and I will paint the walls of this room with her blood and play a symphony of her screams to echo among our Academy halls. She will feel my pain even in death, and her demise will remind normies NEVER to cross outcasts again.”

Larissa was shaking in her heels and could feel the heat blooming on her cheeks and between her thighs at watching you defend her and the students with merciless fury. Watching you willingly go as far as to create death for her and the students' salvation was only pulling her further in. Your protection was powerful and hot, and she couldn't deny how much she loved it, craved it.

Whispering deadly, “I will not stand by while she hurts those I love. Take Wednesday and evacuate the students to the hidden library. There's a Hyde on the loose, and I will not rest until every one of us is safe. I'll meet you there once I'm finished.”

Your words and intense look nearly had her in a trance. Looking from your lips to your dark eyes, Larissa wondered if you had always been this attractive because, holy shit. Your claws grazing her jaw snapped her out of it, and she subtly shook off the daze before looking back to you and then to Laurel. Watching her body quivering in fear under your grip and staring into her eyes, Larissa tried to see if there was truth in your words. She saw something flicker behind that layer of instinctual terror—unhinged anger. The kind of rage that could not be quelled by chains but has to be snuffed out by death.

She set her jaw at seeing Thornhill’s insanity and turned to you, nodding. “Okay.” She pointed a finger at you, momentarily shocking you at the action and the concern in her tone. “If you're not back at the statue by the time I'm done, I will look for you. Lose your pride for a second and realize the Hyde is stronger than you, Y/n. You cannot defeat it on your own.”

You saw the worry spreading across her face quickly and reached to rub her cheek gently. “I know; I'll be right next to you the second you turn looking for me.”

“Good,” Larissa sighed shakily before turning to Wednesday.

“I’m not going; I want to see this,” the girl said while crossing her arms, a devious smirk in place.

“No, you are not, and we are not discussing it.” Larissa declared before adding, “you're still a Nevermore student, and I will not allow you to become bait for a monster. Now move!” She glared at her, effectively stopping the oncoming argument, and walked her out the door.

Larissa spared a final glance at you and Thornhill, anticipating what she was about to hear with dread before shutting the door.

With a low, menacingly growl, you turned to the redhead, lips curling in a snarling smirk and eyes glowing in the darkening room. As your fangs descended, you taunted her, “I can think of seven ways to rip your limbs from your body, draw blood from your skin, rip muscle from bone, snap, crush, and split those bones, and draw every anguished scream from your throat before you die.”

You snatched her throat in your other hand and brought her close to your face so she could see your own murderous, enraged insanity swirling in your eyes. You growled into her face, and she grew colder from horror despite your hot breath blasting her face. “Shall we test my theory, Laurel?”

As Larissa hurried Wednesday and the other students through the halls and toward the hidden library, she heard the first of many screams ring out from the greenhouse. They were filled with pure, unhinged, animalistic terror and pain, filled with the deepest depths of human anguish and fear known to humanity. Larissa didn't know if she loved or was terrified by them. Probably both.

#michelle's works #principal larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #principal larissa weems

[babydollmarauders]

BEGIN AGAIN — NICO HISCHIER

nico hischier x fem!reader

request: “Hi I have another request if that’s okay with you! It’s another Taylor inspired one of course. Could you do a fic with Nico inspired by Begin Again. The ex boyfriend in the song could be Trevor or some other hockey player to add some angst.”

summary: eight months after having her heart broken, y/n regains hope in love after meeting meeting Nico.

warnings: mentions of cheating

notes: this is one of my favorite Taylor songs and i got SO EXCITED when i saw this request! i wrote this with Mat Barzal in mind as the ex-boyfriend, just because i wanted to keep it as someone kinda close to the NJ area, but not another Devil, however i’m sorry if that upsets anyone. he’s only mentioned a couple of times, so if you wanna imagine him as another hockey player named “matt” you have full right to do so.

“it’s been eight months babe, maybe it’s time for you to get back out there.”

logically, i know Nicole is right, but the thought of dating again causes a shiver down my spine. i’ve had some of the worst luck with boyfriends, most recently my ex, Mat. after ten months of dating, in which my friends kept telling me he had too many red flags, i caught him in bed with a girl he used to tell me was like a sister to him. since we broke up eight months ago, i’ve given up on finding someone to spend my life with. but my friends haven’t fully accepted my disbelief in love, urging me to try again, and with how lonely i’ve been recently, i’m warming to the idea.

“you know, Jesper has a teammate i could set you up with. i think you guys would really hit it off. and think about how fun it would be to go to games together!” Nicole speaks again, breaking through my self-pity filled thoughts.

“i don’t know. i don’t know if i wanna date any more hockey players, Nic.” i take my eyes off my half painted toenails, looking at her from across the couch. “i’ve only had bad experiences with them. i think Matt was my tipping point.”

“give them one more chance! they’re not all like that. i think you would really click with this guy. just one date! and if you don’t have a good time then i won’t persist.”

“one date?” i ask.

“one date.” she confirms, i shrug and focus back on my toenails, finishing my painting.

“okay. one date.” i tell her. Nicole squeals and sets her own nail polish down on the coffee table, jumping up and doing a little happy dance. i let out a laugh and roll my eyes.

not too long after our conversation, there’s a knock on my apartment door and Nicole’s boyfriend walks in. i met Nicole about a week after i moved to New Jersey, two years ago. we first became quick friends after meeting at a bookstore and bonding over our love for mysteries. then when she started dating Jesper, he fit right in and our duo has become a trio. they soon moved in together a couple apartments down the hall from me and now it’s become a routine for her to hang out over here while he’s at practice and he comes to get her once he gets home.

Jesper greets me with a hello before kissing his girlfriend on the top of the head. Nicole beams up at him and i feel a twinge of envy settle in my heart. i love their love, and i can’t help that there’s a part of me that feels like i’ll never get that kind of connection with someone.

“babe! you’ll never believe what happened!” Nicole squeals.

“what?” he asks, amusement laced in his voice and a smile on his face.

“y/n agreed to let me set her up with Nico!” he chuckles and looks over at me. i give a dejected shrug and he shakes his head.

“always the little matchmaker.” he chides, amused, before he jokes. “well, come on, you meddler. let’s go back to our own apartment and let y/n/n wallow with her Taylor Swift in peace.”

“i resent that.” i pipe up. but he just raises an eyebrow at me and i sink farther into the couch. okay, so maybe he’s not far off. i do have a habit of cranking up some Red (Taylor’s Version) and getting wine drunk.

Nicole and Jesper leave, with her promising to text me about a date between me and this Nico guy.

and true to her word, i wake up the next morning with a text from Nicole.

From: Nicole

wednesday at noon! at the café down the street! here’s his number: Nico Hischier, (xxx) xxx-xxxx . HAVE FUN!

i have to admit, i admire her dedication.

**

wednesday morning came faster than i wanted it to, and i kept my expectations low, expecting the worst from this date, as usual.

i show up at the café at exactly noon, contradicting my usual early arrivals, as guys never actually show up on time. but when i step into the café, i’m surprised when a handsome brunette stands from a seat at a table towards the back and waves at me with a shy smile. i fail to bite back my own grin as i make my way over to him.

“Nico?” i ask, holding my hand out.

“that’s me.” he confirms, slipping his hand in mine to shake before we drop them and he pulls the other chair out, motioning for me to take a seat. once i’m seated, he takes his seat across from me. “you must be y/n?”

“that’s me.” i nod. “i am so sorry if Nicole forced you into this. i’m convinced the word ‘no’ isn’t in her vocabulary.”

he chuckles and shakes his head.

“no, no. she didn’t. actually, as soon as she told me about you, i asked her to set this up.” his words surprise me, i was under the impression that this was Nicole’s idea. i can’t stop the blood rushing to my cheeks, painting them red.

“oh, i didn’t know that.” i look down at my hands, fidgeting on the table in front of me. “well, uh, tell me about yourself, Nico. the only thing Nicole told me was that you play hockey with Jesper. and i think i’ve deduced from your accent that you’re… Swiss? i think i got that right, but i might actually be horrible at guessing accents.”

he laughs again and my butterflies erupt in my stomach. he has a gorgeous laugh.

“no, you’re right, i’m from Switzerland.” he nods, confirming my guess. “and as you said, i play for the Devils with Jesper. but besides that-”

he continues telling me about himself, and i’m leaned on my elbows, listening to him talk. for once, i’m genuinely interested to hear about the man sitting in front of me. when he asks about myself, i give him all the truths, not holding back from telling him about my interests and family. before i know it, it’s been two hours and Nico is walking me down the block to my car before he leaves for an afternoon practice. we’re walking in silence, and i ponder the idea of telling him about my ex. knowing it might be better to get it out in the air now. but then Nico starts back up our last discussion from in the café, about christmas traditions.

“we have a tradition of watching a movie called Drei Haselnüsse für Aschenbrödel, which i think in english is called Three Wishes for Cinderella. it started when my sister Nina was young.” i push my thoughts away and give him my full attention, engrossed in what he has to say. taking this as a sign to wait for that discussion.

when we arrive at my car, i’m pleasantly surprised that i don’t actually want to leave. unlocking my car, i open my door and throw my purse in on the passengers seat before turning back to Nico, who stands with a small smile on his face and his hands in his pockets.

“i, uh, i’d really love to see you again. if you’re up for that?” i say. his half smile turns into a grin and he nods.

“yeah, i’d like that a lot. maybe next time we can actually go out to dinner or another proper date outing. i’m sorry that today was just coffee.” he says and i shake my head.

“that sounds great but, don’t sell yourself short. i had a really nice time today. besides, i know hockey players don’t always have free schedules but, i really like you so i’ll take whatever i can get. even if it’s just a twenty minute date eating mcdonald’s.” i tell him, shrugging my shoulders as i lean against my car.

“let’s hope it doesn’t come to that!” he jokes, and i let my giggle slip out freely. he shifts his weight back and forth on his feet as we stand in silence for a second, just smiling at each other, content with ourselves. “i better get going, my car is back at the café. but is it okay if i text you? or better yet, call you?”

“i’d love that. but, wait, your car is back there? why did you walk me all the way over here then?” i laugh. “we could’ve parted ways back there! now i feel bad that you walked past your car just to walk with me.”

“i just didn’t want this to end yet.” he shrugs. “i’d do it again if i had the choice.”

his words make me blush and i look down at my feet.

“you text me, or call me, or hell, i’m sure Nicole will gladly tell you where i live. just, don’t ghost me.” i halfheartedly joke. he smiles one last time and shakes his head, starting to walk backwards away from my car.

“oh trust me, you’ve got me hooked now. you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” he calls out to me and i bark out a laugh and slide into the drivers seat, closing the door behind me.

god, i hope not.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3 #babydollmarauders #nj devils

[starliights-shining]

"A Drink and Maybe dinner?"

Hello, This is a Kapkan fic I wrote for a person very dear in my life(@montyuh.) I thought maybe you guys would like to read it too! So here it is. I do believe I might start up request for Siege at some point, but for now here is this! Enjoy :)

Pairing: Mazim "Kapkan" Basuda x GN! Reader

Warnings: None,

Translations:(i do apologize if its butchered) Олененок - Baby Deer сестра - Sister

Loud music and shitty cheap alcohol never mix well in your opinion. You spent your entire youth watching it happen, women and men fighting over a lingering glance from someone or from someone dancing on the other. So you tend to avoid it, but for some reason after years of avoiding it your team always brings you back to it, and tonight was no different. You sat at the bar, the blue lighting casting a heavy hue onto you and the rest of the attendees sitting. Your eyes were lost in the four large cubes of ice that were slowly melting. You thought about why you said yes to drinks from Mira, you could actually be relaxing right now, head buried in pillows and your body wrapped in a warm blanket as your bones finally stopped moving. Setting in for the week and allowing the weight to fully be dropped. You were shot at yes, but not hit or in worse shape, So you couldn’t be complaining. You were supposed to be ‘celebrating’ for no serious injuries after this last mission. 

The clanking of another glass being sat in front of you broke your thoughts. Your eyes quickly glancing up to the bartender in front of you. Her close lipped smile seemed unfriendly or jealous almost. 

“I didn’t order this.” 

You spoke up, pushing it back towards her before her hand stopped it. Her eyes almost rolling into the back of her hand as she spoke, a sigh leaving her lips first. 

“It’s from that tall military man over there.” 

She paused for a minute, smirking as you looked over in the direction of the man. 

“I mean if you don’t want it, i’ll take it.” 

You quickly shot her a glance before wrapping your hand around the glass and pulling it towards you. 

“That won’t be necessary.” 

You lifted it with a chuckle, taking a sip and looking over at him. You almost did not recognise him, if it wasn’t for the familiar looking group of men he was with. You just simply couldn’t miss the bald head of Sledge, and large frames of Fuze and Tachanka. You smiled to yourself, eyes slowly moving back up towards the tv that hung above the bar, you back finally meeting the backrest of your barstool. You thought about your options. Go talk to him? Sit here and wait for him to talk to you? Was this an invitation to sit with him? Was he interested in you romantically? No, Maxim “Kapkan” Basuda isn’t romantically interested in anyone. Not you, the bartender, or the loud female operator he seems to keep around. He’s just being friendly, trying to get you to loosen up a bit around a larger group of coworkers. You talked yourself down from that, he likes you romantically, tower. A thought process you are quite used to using for any and everything that came your way. 

It had been a minute, you finished the drink that he bought you and you still sat in the same spot. Your hand twirled the glass on its bottom edge in circles, the ice clanking on the sides of the glass. You noticed the stool next you turning in and in came a lady. Placing both her hands on the bartop flat before the tender appeared asking for her order. 

“I’ll have whatever she’s having!” 

A small finger pointing to you and the glass you had, Your eyes flickered to her and then back to the bartender, before the lady spoke again. 

“And another for her, On that tall military man's tab please.” 

The tender left and you smiled, the lady next to you laced her fingers together before speaking again. 

“You’re (Y/N), the new defender?” 

She asked, You nodded, smiling at her. You finally looked over at her. She doesn’t look like a defender, or anyone in a rainbow at that, but you know her from your first debriefing, she’s like Redhammer’s medic, also that loud lady that Kapkan keeps around for some odd reason. 

“Yeah that’s me, Guess you can't quite get away from the new title.”

She laughed, nodding slightly in the process.

“Yeah, kinda but you’ve made quite the impression with Kapkan so you think it might be a good thing.” 

“Have I now?” 

Your interest was piqued. An impression with Kapkan, a good one at that. 

“Yeah, this last mission he basically said you saved his ass. Or maybe he's lying and just trying to get you to notice him.” 

You watched as she picked up her glass and took a sip from it. Her face contorted right after. 

“Ewww, how the hell do y'all drink this.” 

You laughed, taking a sip from your glass.You guess Kapkan’s taste in alcohol isn't for everyone. Your eyes wandered to where he was sitting, and he wasn't there. An empty space on the wall next to Sledge. Your eyes cut back over to your company. A smile plastered on her face as she looked kinda past you. 

“Well look who it is.” 

You turned in your stool, it swiveled around for you to see the topic of your conversation, Kapkan. A grin plastered on his face. He stood between you and your new friend. A large hand coming up to rest on the conjunction between her neck and shoulder. 

“What did I say about getting in my business, сестра?” 

He said, shaking her back and forth in her seat. Your eyes flickering from him to her and back to him as they interacted. His use of ‘сестра’ caught your interest, you know your basics on a few languages and this just so happened to be one of the things you knew. He just called the lady in front of you sister. You almost signed out loud realizing that she was in fact not in the way of your attempts, future attempts, to get with him. Now the only question was are they really brother and sister. She looks nothing like him, and he looks nothing like her. You just smiled when you realized they were now looking at you. 

“Did you even introduce yourself?” 

His tone was friendly and almost banterish. She rolled her eyes before speaking. 

“I didn’t but I’m Star, and you know this is Kapkan.” 

You smiled at her. 

“You know my Callsign, but you can call me (Y/N) for right now.”

“For right now!” 

He let out a chuckle, his free hand coming up to point at your glass in your hand.

“How'd you like the drink, Олененок?” 

You smiled, holding up your glass as you spoke. 

“It's different, not what I normally go for.” 

You noticed the funny look on Star's face. Her eyes looking up at him and then going to linger on you for a bit more. 

“You bought her a drink? AND just,” 

He cut her off, and reached for the glass she wasn’t drinking from. 

“You put this on my tab and you're not going to drink it, what a waste, сестра.” 

He practically gulped down the drink in one go, but you guess since it was his money it's a waste in his eyes. Star took this time to speak to you, leaning in and blocking her lips from his view. 

“He doesn’t buy drinks for anyone.” 

She paused, looking back at him before continuing. 

“I think he likes you.” 

You just smiled, shaking your head in disbelief as you let out a low laugh. Kapkan had taken the last gulp of the drink, placing the glass on the bar top before pulling the woman up from her seat. 

“Don’t you have business elsewhere, сестра? Go find your puppy.” 

She sighed, slapping her hand on his thick arm. He grinned and let out that bass rumbling laugh. She mumbled something about not calling him that before walking away. You were left alone with the man. He called the bartender, the smaller lady happy and bubbly with him unlike how she was with you. He ordered something and glanced over at your cup, it was half gone but he’s putting his own cutoff on you. His drink came, it was quite between you two for a minute. You decided to speak. Opening your mouth and saying something at the same time as him. His pale orbs looking down at you before his hand ushered for you to speak first. He had manners. 

“I heard you’ve been speaking highly of me.” 

You thought about it, it sounded cocky saying out loud. Almost like you knew he would do it and you didn’t like it. You are not arrogant and that's the last thing you’d wanna be known for. 

“That sounds bad, I didn’t mean it like that at all.” 

He smirked at you, light orbs still taking in your normal form in front of him. 

“Of course, without you, we wouldn’t be celebrating no casualties, Олененок.” 

“Yes, but it was simply my gadget doing its work.” 

“How is your gadget, did you and Tina work on it?” 

“Yes actually!” 

You practically lit up after he asked, he noticed the difference between your new one and old one. You then went on to explain the mechanics of it, telling him about how you improved it with Tina’s help. He also spoke about Tina helping him with improving and testing his own gadget. Your conversation went on for far longer than you thought it had. His small input was enough and his response here and there kept it going. He didn’t seem to have a problem with you talking a bit more than normal and he sure didn’t mind your presence. 

You didn’t catch the time until it was already hitting closing time, the bartender coming to close his tab and then the rest of the operators saying they were splitting to another bar or going home. You both stood up, leaving the building and into the cool air. You stood there waiting for your cab to come. He insisted he’d stay until your cab arrived even though you made it clear he didn’t have too. The silence between you too was comforting, a calm after a storm, which in this case was the bar and a lot of talking. It wasn’t until the headlights of the cab appearing down the road prompted him to speak. 

“We should drink together more often. Preferably not for a celebration, just the two of us.” 

You looked over at him, hands in his jean pockets as he looked down at you, a smirk present on his face. You smiled nodding.

“Yes, maybe even dinner? Just the two of us of course.” 

You smiled, letting out a little laugh afterwards. He let out his chuckle as well. 

“Of course, Олененок.” 

You cab pulled up next to you and he opened the door for you, watching as you slid into the back and looked up at him. 

“You can call me Maxim, Олененок” 

He said, leaning down into the back while speaking, a hand resting on the roof of the cab and the door. 

“Okay,”

You paused, watching his eyes. He started to close the door but you stopped him. 

“What does that mean, The name you keep calling me?” 

He smirked, laughing a bit before speaking. 

“You’ll find out one day, Олененок” 

He spoke and closed the cab door. 

#stars writings #rainbow six siege #r6 #kapkan #r6s #r6 siege #r6 kapkan #Kapkan x reader #Maxim “Kapkan” Basuda #Maxim “Kapkan” Basuda x reader #kapkan x reader

[theraggedygirl11]

Love’s the death of peace of mind

Kris' POV

Bojan's POV: AO3 - Tumblr

SUMMARY: In a world where Heaven and Hell exist, angels and demons are constantly fighting and killing one another. What if a stoic and cold angel starts questioning his whole existence after he met a demon who he was supposed to kill as Heaven demands?

PAIRING: Bojan Cvjetićanin/Kris Guštin

WARNINGS: swearing, blood, implied violence, hurt/comfort, emotional rollercoaster, enemies to lovers, implied suicide, hint of jance in the background

WORDS COUNT: 5.954

LINK: AO3

NOTES: Hello! I didn't plan this fic, honestly. It all started from this anon ask and now here I am with almost a 6k pov. This was a bit of a challenge, since I never wrote from Kris' pov, but I think it came out quite good.

I was also extremely shocked because I didn't expect Bojan's pov to blow up (and to get also a fanart from @sparkles-oflight), but in a positive way! I loved every comment I received 🥹 thank you so, so much!

As always, thanks to my beta @anxious-witch! And also thanks to @arctixout for her gifs. Without that post this fic wouldn't exist.

“Y-you were right about him. He-he’s a heartless angel, just like anyone else of them.”

“Not every angel is heartless.”

“He is, Nace! He is! I showed him my love and he accused me of trying to corrupt him! I-I gave him my whole heart and he laughed at me, he stabbed it with his ice dagger and killed me- H-He called me a filthy demon, Nace. After all I did for him and showed him, I-I’m still a filthy demon to him.”

Humans always forget that angels are supposed to be warriors of Heaven, not peaceful winged creatures with a harp in their hands.

We do have wings, yes, but we also have great powers, and they get stronger and stronger as the celestial rank goes up. As soon as we are able to walk straight and run, we start our training to become soldiers of Heaven. The training is different for every rank.

I’m a seraph, the highest angelic rank. I was born from two seraphim, thus I can say I’m discreetly powerful. I’m also a general.

One of our tasks is to hunt down demons who run freely on Earth, among humans. It’s our duty to protect human souls from corruption and temptation.

This is how I met a demon, a weird one. I identified him, followed him and attacked him with the intent to kill him, just like I was taught. My dagger was about to sink into his throat, but I stopped when my eyes met his. My whole body froze, I even stopped breathing for a couple of seconds. His eyes were deep, filled with fear and…what seemed to be surprise. His glance was so intense.

We stared at each other for what felt like a very long minute, then I recoiled and disappeared with a quick flutter of my wings, invisible at the time.

Why did I stop? Why didn’t I kill him? My heart was racing in my chest and I had no answers to my questions. 

I obviously didn’t mention this event to anyone, not even to my loyal angelic friends. They would mock me for not killing a low rank demon. No, forgetting this event was the best option. 

* * *

I’m an angel, but this doesn’t interdict me from having some “guilty pleasures”. In my case, it’s music. I like playing the guitar with Jan and Martin, two cherubim and friends of mine. Sometimes we also attend concerts in the human world, like tonight.

“Will Jan ever be on time?” I sigh.

I’ve been walking in circles for at least half an hour, but Jan is nowhere to be seen. I’m starting to get a little bit pissed. 

“Calm down, Kris,” Martin says, looking at me. “He’ll arrive. I give him ten minutes. We won’t miss that band, don’t worry.”

I’m about to reply to Martin’s words, when we see an angel running towards us, dressed in black and with long hair.

“Guys! I’m here!”

I take a deep breath, then quickly glance at Martin. “Finally. We can go, then,” I say, giving Jan a displeased look.

We fly to our destination and in a few minutes we are in the middle of the crowd. I start singing and dancing along with the music letting it flow over me, sometimes I even close my eyes. In my opinion, music is the supreme and purest form of art. It doesn’t matter the language you speak or the language the song was written in, if you listen to the melody, you can enjoy every type of music.

When I open my eyes again, I meet a weirdly familiar gaze coming from two deep brown eyes. I pale when I recognise the owner of those eyes.

That demon.

My heart is racing in my chest just like the first time we met, my whole body is frozen. He’s here too. He likes music just like I do. A demon, a creature from Hell, a filthy being appreciates something so celestial like music. I don’t understand. Why? It’s not supposed to be like this. They are…barbaric creatures, dominated by violent emotions.

I see two male figures standing by the demon’s side, a tall guy with a tattooed arm and a slightly shorter one with messy blond hair and thick black make-up around his eyes. The tattooed man places a hand on the demon’s shoulder. They must be his demonic friends. 

Three demons enjoying music.

“Is everything ok?” Jan asks, getting closer to me. He then moves his eyes to find the reason for such a reaction on my part. “Demons,” he hisses.

Martin appears by my side a second after. We are all trained to deal with demons, we are ready to attack them, and maybe even kill them. Jan steps towards them, but my arm moves without my control and stops him. Jan glances at me, confused, but since I’m a higher rank than him, he withdraws, stepping back.

I observe the three demons. The blond one grabs the brown-haired one and pulls him away, meddling with the crowd around us. I try to follow them with my eyes, but there are too many people. I lost my demon.

“Excuse me, Kris, but what was that? What just happened?”

We are back in Heaven, in my quarters. I’m still pale, I saw my face in a mirror next to the entrance door. And I’m unwell too. That meeting messed up my mind in a way I couldn’t believe possible. 

“Kris,” Jan calls me again. “What was that?” He spells word after word, this time his voice is harsher, more like an order than a simple question.

“We saw three demons at that concert,” I reply, taking a deep breath to try to regain some control over my body and my mind.

“No shit, Sherlock. We know they were demons. Why did you freeze like a greenhorn?”

“Jan, calm down,” Martin tries to mediate between me and Jan.

“No, don’t tell me to calm down! Kris, what’s going on? You are one of the best seraphim in Heaven. What happened there?”

I glance at Jan, then divert my eyes from him. “I have already met that demon, but I couldn’t kill him. I don’t know why.”

I feel Jan’s and Martin’s eyes on me. Their confusion is almost tangible. 

“You…couldn’t kill him?” 

“No, Jan, I couldn’t!” I shout back at him, looking him right in the eyes. “Are you happy now? A seraph failed to kill a squalid demon!”

Both Jan and Martin exchange a quick glance. They seem worried in my eyes. Well, they should be. A seraph that isn’t able to kill a demon for whatever reason is concerning.

“How much time ago did this happen?” Asks Martin, his voice is calmer and quieter.

“I don’t remember. Recently, maybe some months.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because of Jan’s reaction,” and I point at him with the movement of my head. “Because I’m supposed to be better than letting a demon go,” I sigh and sit down on a couch in the living room. “I have no idea why I haven’t killed him. It just happened. I met his eyes while I was about to stab him and…something in them made me stop,” I run a hand through my hair. “They were different from the demons I killed. I felt like I had a puppy in front of me.”

“A puppy?” Jan asks.

“Yes, a puppy! He looked like a terrified puppy.”

Jan chuckles. “I’m sorry, Kris, but hearing this description of a demon coming from your mouth wasn’t on my celestial bingo card. Maybe he managed to melt your ice cold heart,” he teases me.

I roll my eyes, then shake my head. “Listen, this story ends here, ok? No one needs to know this. No one.”

“Ok, we won’t tell anyone, don’t worry,” Martin nods, followed by Jan.

It’s reassuring on one hand. On the other hand, though, I feel even more confused now. Why is this demon so special? Why does he have such a power over me? What does he hide behind those eyes of his? Did demons develop a new way of corrupting us angels, of getting inside our heads and messing with us?

My head is exploding with all these questions. And the more I think about an answer, the more questions pop up in my mind. Maybe I should follow him to discover what happened to me.

In the next weeks I keep an eye on that demon, when I catch him roaming on Earth from Heaven. I always find him staring at the sky, searching for something, maybe even me.

I don't understand him. Why is he looking for me? We are enemies, I tried to kill him, shouldn't he be scared of me? Is he this dumb?

One night, I decide to follow him not from Heaven, but directly on Earth. I need to understand why he's behaving like this.

I follow his steps until he lays on the ground in the middle of a grass patch in a woodland. He’s staring at the starry sky. I let a few minutes pass, then I slowly approach him. He seems relaxed, his defences are down, I could easily kill him, but…I want to talk to him instead, to understand why he’s like this.

I lean forward, covering his view with my head. 

“What are you doing here all alone?” I ask him.

I observe his reaction: he startles, then stands up and steps back, he seems ready to run away from me. His eyes are wide open, there’s fear in them. Ok, this is a more appropriate reaction from his part. My lips bent in an amused and satisfied smile.

“Angel,” I hear him whisper.

He’s staring at me, I feel the weight of his eyes on me. He doesn’t seem scared anymore, or at least fear is slowly disappearing in him. Yeah, he’s definitely stupid. Why isn’t he scared? His boldness and stupidity confuse me. I must be aware of what he does, I don’t trust him.

I move my hands behind my back, then I adjust my position, sticking my chest out, trying to give myself an intimidating stance.

“I repeat, since you seem to not understand my words, what are you doing here all alone?” I ask again, since I’m not receiving any answer for my previous question.

The demon takes a few seconds before answering. “I was looking for you.”

“For me?” I raise my eyebrows. I wasn’t expecting this, to be honest.

“Yes, for you. I wanted to talk to you, angel.”

I keep staring at him, confused. He must be truly dumb and with zero survival instincts. Well, I guess not every demon gets a bright mind, in the end. I probably should kill him, so he can stop making dumb decisions.

I’m about to unsheathe my dagger, but the demon starts moving towards me in that exact moment. He raises his hands in front of him, showing them to me.

“I’m not armed. You can check on me. This is not a trap.”

I don’t take my eyes off of him. I can feel my powers creeping under my skin, some sparks leave my palms. I’m ready to strike at the mere danger signal from the demon. My whole body is stiff. My jaws are locked. I don’t feel at ease with a demon in front of me, especially this demon, because I’m not able to see through him.

My attention is caught by his hand, which slowly moves towards my face. Suddenly, it stops a few centimetres away from my cheek, hesitant. My eyes run from his hand to his face. He seems blissed by my presence.

“Why do you want to talk to me, exactly?”

“I…I want to know you, angel.”

I’m astonished. It can’t be real. This must be a trap, no demon is so stupid to risk his life to simply talk to an angel.

“I beg your pardon, you want to know…me?”

“Yes,” he nods too. “You are amazingly beautiful, angel.”

Heat reaches my cheeks. Ok, that was smooth, I must admit it. The demon chuckles, I let slip a shy smile. It’s difficult to resist, his small laugh made him look cute-Kris, for god’s sake, you can’t think this of a demon! You are a freaking seraph! But…his eyes are so sweet, he doesn’t look like a cruel being from the depth of Hell. I bet he isn’t even able to corrupt a single human soul. 

“Would you like to…I don’t know, come grab a coffee or anything else to drink?”

“It’s a nice idea,” I reply. “You seem more used to the human world, so show me the way to your favourite place to…drink,” I continue. “Please,” I quickly add. The previous sentence looked too much like an order.

The demon’s smile is even bigger this time, I’m afraid it will break his face. But at the same time it warms my heart too. He seems really happy that I accepted his invitation.

“With pleasure, my lovely angel!”

The demon has a name. It’s Bojan, but he prefers being called Bojči, just because it sounds cuter and sweeter. I concur with him, but I still call him by his full name. Bojči sounds too intimate for me, and I don’t want to get too close to him. He remains a creature from Hell.

After all, spending time with him is pleasant. I’m still confused because he doesn’t follow the classic image of a demon we are taught to fight and despise. First of all, he loves music. We talk a lot about it, sometimes we even attend concerts together during our time together. He’s full of energy, it’s impossible to at least not smile when you see him jumping around because music got to him. Every time I see his eyes and his shining smile, my chest warms so much. 

Bojan always tries his best to make our time spent together the best. He plans trips in various cities around the world, or simple strolls in the middle of nature. These last ones are my favourite because we are alone, far away from mortals, in quiet places.

I feel his eyes on me, but I attempt to ignore them. Sometimes I glance at him, our eyes meet and I see only happiness in him. The fear he felt that night on that field disappeared long ago. This is so wrong. He shouldn’t be this happy to be with me. And I shouldn’t be so excited to see him.

What am I doing? Why am I doing this? Is this…corruption? Is this how Lucifer felt when he fell from the sky? I’m an angel, I shouldn’t behave like this, not with a demon.

I accept to meet him again one more time, only because I want…I want to…what do I want from him? I’m so confused, I don’t know anything anymore. This must be corruption. I can’t think straight, a thick fog prevents my mind from creating consistent thoughts. A general who cannot control his mind is useless.

I still dress and prepare for the “date”, as Bojan likes to call our meetings. I’m wearing clothes with light colours, just to show from which reign I’m from, an attempt to bring distance between me and the demon.

He told me the location where we are supposed to meet. Thus I appear in that place, my wings announcing my arrival to whoever may live in that small apartment.

I barely have the time to look around when Bojan runs in the room. I’m stunned. He’s wearing black skinny clothes that shape his body wonderfully. My eyes land on his broad shoulders, then on his muscular thighs. He’s tempting, he’s for sure playing with me, tricking me.

“You are stunning, ljubavi.”

“You…too, Bojan,” I can barely speak.

My attention gets caught by two other figures entering the room. His demon friends are there too, the blond one and the tattooed one. I stiff my body, pushing out my chest as I try to look taller than I already am.

“Oh, yeah, these are my dearest friends. This is Jure,” he points to the blond demon. “And this is Nace,” and then to the tattooed demon. “They are safe, they won’t hurt you. I ask you to do the same.”

“...fine,” I surrender not so willingly. My eyes go back to Bojan and I notice that there’s something black and with glitter on his face. “You put on makeup.” 

“Yes, just for you. Do you like it?”

“You…look good,” I admit, my voice is trembling a bit. He looks even more beautiful with that dark makeup on his eyes.

He grabs my hand and smiles at me. “I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes and follow me.”

Bojan pulls me and I do as he said, a little bit scared of what kind of surprise he might have for me. He makes me sit on something cold and hard. I touch that surface with one hand, it feels like plastic. 

“What are you trying to do, little demon?”

“I told you, it’s a surprise.”

I hear him handle something, then he sits on my lap, making me stiffen. Something soft touches my eyelid, I immediately feel something on my skin. What is he doing? I could open my eyes, but something inside of me prevents me from doing it. He stands up, then speaks again.

“You are otherworldly, ljubavi. Open your eyes.”

A little bit hesitant, I open my eyes and look at my reflection in the mirror. He put makeup on me too. Golden makeup around my eyes, to be precise. I…I like it. It’s weirdly good on me. I stand up, get closer to the mirror to admire his work. 

“Gold is your colour. It suits you perfectly.”

“I-It does,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

He always knows exactly what to do to make me feel special, even loved dare I say. It’s surreal. A gentle kiss on the cheek brings me back to reality. I turn and see Bojan's smiling face. He's shining like never before. His eyes are dark and remind me of the black hole at the centre of this galaxy. The glittery makeup represents the stars that move in circles around that core of pure darkness, but his eyes reflect all the light instead of devouring it. 

“We can go, then. I have other surprises for you, my angel.”

Our “date” begins: Bojan takes me to my favourite human restaurant. He lets me order whatever I want, adding that I don’t have to worry about the bill. It’s not the first time that he pays for me, but this time it feels…strange. I’m nervous by all the charm he’s displaying tonight, the elegance in his clothes, the makeup, his smiles bigger than usual. What did he plan to do? Should I be worried? I’m so deep into my own train of thoughts that often I forget to reply to Bojan.

“Is everything ok, ljubavi?” 

I fall back into reality. “Yeah, sure, don't worry. I…had a rough day in Heaven, that's all,” I say the first thing that hits my mind.

Bojan grabs my hand with extreme gentleness, then starts caressing its back. His smile could melt a gigantic iceberg.

“Now it's time for you to relax, then. Enjoy this night out.”

I meet his eyes. I immediately feel more relaxed, more at ease. How…? Is he naturally like this or is he using some kind of dark demonic magic to make me lower my defences? I don’t understand.

We continue our dinner and once it’s finished we go for a walk around the city. Bojan grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers. A shiver runs down my spine, but I decide to ignore it.

We walk and walk until we reach a tall building. Bojan takes me to the top of it. We are alone here. I look around me, there’s nothing strange or even remotely dangerous.

“Why did you bring me here?” I ask.

Suddenly, so many candles appear all around us, following the verge of the roof. A soft melody starts playing out of thin air. I look at my demon, confused. He’s offering me his hand.

“Would you like to dance with me, Kris?”

Ok, he just wants to dance. We did it a couple of times, I guess we can do it again.

Thus, I take his hand, a little bit hesitant, then we begin dancing along with the music. I’m a terrible dancer, Bojan is far better than me, so I focus on his steps and movements and try to repeat them, following him.

“Just let the music flow over you. Hear it inside of you and allow it to take control over your body,” he suggests to me, whispering with an extremely tender voice, which makes me shiver.

I take a deep breath, then follow Bojan’s suggestion. The music is slow and sweet, it allows us, and especially me, to dance quite well, even if we both aren’t expert dancers. The demon’s movements are more fluid, he’s more used to letting himself go, my posture is more rigid, it’s the one of a soldier. We stare into each other’s eyes the whole time. 

What am I doing here? Why am I here? Why am I with a demon? I am not this. I’m a fucking seraph! I should kill demons, not frolic with one of them! I keep asking myself these questions, but I’m never able to find an answer.

I leave his hands and step back. I notice concern and confusion in the demon’s eyes.

“We can’t go on doing this, Bojan.”

“Why not? I don’t understand.”

“Because we can’t! You are a demon, and I’m an angel. We are not supposed to…mingle.”

“We are not mingling, ljubavi. This is a romantic date between two creatures who have feelings for each other.”

He gets closer and tales my hands kindly. Our eyes meet again. The confusion in them became something else, but I can’t name it. I’m not good with feelings. Does it seem like betrayal?

“Kris, I'm not the monster Heaven teaches you to despise. You saw me, you got to know me.”

“You are still a demon, Bojan, no matter how you behave or what you do.”

“And so? What does it change between us?”

“I'm a freaking angel! We are supposed to fight each other, not…doing this, dancing alone like two teenagers in love!”

“Only because we are not human teenagers? Because we come from two different places? Because others tell us that we should hate each other?” He clutches my hands between his,a spark of fear appears in my chest. “You know me,” Bojan brings one of my hands right to his chest.. “This heart is yours, ljubavi, and no one else’s.”

“Bojan, this is wrong.”

“Kris, I love you. What's wrong with that?” He stops talking for a few seconds. “You…don't love me?”

“No, Bojan. I don’t love you. Let’s stop pretending.”

I won’t admit it, but seeing Bojan’s reaction made me feel bad. Extremely bad. He’s visibly devastated by what I just said. I’m clearly influenced by his demonic magic, I can’t feel this bad for a demon.

“I-I’m not pretending.”

“Don’t lie, Bojan. You are a demon, all demons do is lie. You know who and what I am, you saw weakness in me because I didn’t kill you that day. You are corrupting me because you want me to lose my wings!”

My voice is harsh while I spit out those words. I want them to hit him like whips. He needs to understand who I am, what I am.

“I know you are an angel and nothing else! I-I don't want you to lose your wings!” His voice trembles, he tries to articulate his words, but he has problems in doing so. “I’m not lying!”

“You want to bring me to the path of perdition! You want me to fall, just like Lucifer.”

He lets my hands go. I follow him with my eyes while he recoils. Now even his body is affected by all those feelings, he’s staggering and shaking. It’s just evidence of how emotions are just a liability and how much demons can’t control themselves when those same emotions are involved. They are inferior creatures, in the end.

“I-I’m not, Kris. I-I don’t want to-”

“Stop lying!” I shout at him, powers exploding from me, I can barely hold my wings hidden. “You are a filthy demon. You don’t change, you just want to destroy us.”

This is the final strike. The demon is defeated. I won. Heaven won. I’m finally free from him, from his influence, from his corruption.

I stay on that rooftop observing Bojan running away from me, then I turn to glance at all those candles. I should feel better now that I cut every tie I had with that impure being, instead there’s a strange feeling in my chest, like an emptiness. 

I shake my head. It will go away, eventually, when his power will fade and he will no longer have some kind of control over me. I won’t fall, I won’t be the next Lucifer.

Life in Heaven continues as always. I help the other seraphim training the new angels, teaching them how to use their powers and how to not fall in demons’ traps. In my mind I have me as an example.

Who knows what he’s doing right now. Did he move on? Did some other angel killehim? Or maybe one of his overlords took care of him and killed him because he didn’t manage to corrupt an angel.

One day I’m tempted to go looking for him from my quarters, but I stop my hand in mid air over the mirror we angels use to watch Earth and humans from Heaven. And demons too, sometimes.

“Is everything ok, Kris?”

I turn. Martin’s there, he just entered the room.

“Yes,” I nod. “Why are you asking?”

“Because you are not our usual Kris since the last time you went on Earth.”

“I’m still me, nothing has changed.”

“Are you sure?” Martin looks me in the eyes.

“Yes, I am sure,” I reply, my voice almost growling.

“How is your little demon?”

“How am I supposed to know?” I blurt.

“You summoned his image in the mirror.”

I turn again. My eyes are wide open and my face is pale when I see him in my mirror. I didn’t touch it to activate it. Bojan is in a park, with one of his demonic friends, the blond one, Jure should be his name. They are talking about something written on that notebook. 

He…looks fine. No, he’s pretending. His eyes are sad, the light in them is muffled. Is he really sad…? 

“Apparently, your desire to know how he is doing is really strong,” notices Martin, now he’s next to me.

“It’s just a coincidence, Martin,” I say while staring at Bojan. “It’s a mere coincidence because we were talking about him.”

I don’t understand my mind and my body anymore. His simple image in my mirror made unknown feelings explode in me, even if on the outside I’m apparently calm. But they say that the calmest waters are the most dangerous and unpredictable ones, no? The turmoil inside of me looks like a tornado. I want to go to him, hug him, and make him smile again. Because his smile is everything to me.

A voice is calling me. I don’t even realise I’m marching towards the room where my mirror is. Bojan’s there, singing, looking up at the sky.

“Stolicu primakni, ruku mi dotakni, noćas ti si moja muza, ja u ritmu tvoga bluza ću da plešem bez prestanka.”

“You should talk to him,” says Jan, while approaching me, I’m watching that damn demon in my mirror. I forgot he was with me.

“Why? He's a demon. He's impure, a damned soul,” I reply. In the meantime Bojan’s voice is spreading in the room where I’m observing him from the sky. His voice is broken, filled with emotions, and despair. My heart is breaking, but my face shows no emotion, just like I was taught.

“Soba nam je mala. Ja ko pijana budala, a ni čaše nisam popio. Ja mislim da sam se zaljubio u tebe. Baš ja, koji nisam verovao da za nekim biću lud. Za tebe, kao u pesmama i filmovima ljubavnim, staviću zvuk.”

“And you love him.”

“Angels can't love. He started corrupting me,” I turn towards Jan.

“Angels can love and they must love. It's not corruption.”

“How can you tell it's not his corruption, Jan?!” I hiss at him, a shade of rage and maybe panic evident from my voice.

“Because I fell in love with a demon too. And I accepted it. Go to him, speak to him. He’s singing for you.”

“Samo se okreni, baci pogled prema meni. Preći će tišina sama kilometre među nama dok jednom srce otkuca.”

“With…a demon?”

“Yes, Kris. Like you, I didn’t think it was possible, but it happened. And he’s the most amazing creature I’ve ever had the chance to talk to. He’s sweet, he’s lovely, he’s…I love him. Now, please, go to him. You can hear his voice, he’s offering you his heart.”

“Soba nam je mala. Ja ko pijana budala, a ni čaše nisam popio. Ja mislim da sam se zaljubio u tebe. Baš ja, koji nisam verovao da za nekim biću lud. Za tebe, kao u pesmama i filmovima ljubavnim, staviću zvuk.”

I sigh. I don’t want to see him because I know I won’t be able to resist him. However, I find myself flying to the Earth, where Bojan is singing. His voice becomes more desperate the more the song goes on. When his eyes land on me, he falls on his knees. In my hand I have my sword. I’m trying to be intimidating, to behave like the seraph I am.

“Ne palite još svetla, još samo jedan tren da se nagledam lepote te. Ne palite još svetla. Ne prizivajte dan. Spasite me, smislite neki plan. Ako svane sunce, ostaću sam.”

Silence falls between us. We stare at each other. The demon looks even smaller now that he is on his knees, on the ground. And he’s also the one who breaks the silence.

“You came.”

“You called,” I reply. It was hard not to hear his cry for help.

No one speaks, so I decide to get closer to Bojan, slowly. His eyes on me make me feel uncomfortable, it’s so difficult to not divert my attention from him.

“You know I should kill you right now because you are on Earth and not in Hell, right?”

“Then do it. I won’t fight, I won’t run away. If I can’t be with you, I’d rather be dead.”

I finally divert my eyes from him. Those words hit me right in the chest. How dare he be this dramatic and romantic at the same time? 

“You are an idiot, Bojan.”

“Yeah, I know, ljubavi. Love made me lose my mind in a way I didn’t think possible.”

“You said that in the song.”

“Maybe it’s just one of the many flaws that make us demons so imperfect in front of you angels. I was so unlucky to fall in love with you, but I don’t consider myself unlucky. I had the best moments of my life with you, I don’t want to change this for anything else in this world, not even a place in Heaven, if this means that I will lose my ability to love so strongly.”

I wince at those words, shivers run down my whole body. He has always been good with words, my complete opposite. I never admitted it, but I love how he plays with words.

I let my guard down, and in that moment he grabs my sword to sticks his point on his chest, where the heart is.

“You are here for this, no? Killing another impure soul that doesn’t follow the rules.”

I lay my eyes on him again. His only answer is a big smile, almost relieved. What is he doing? What is he trying to achieve?

“Don’t make me do this, Bojan.”

“It’s ok, ljubavi. It’s ok. It’s…it’s your nature, you have been trained to do this your whole life.”

My eyes hurt, tears are threatening to come out. No! He can’t really be like this! He wants to die? He wants me to kill him?

My first thought is to pull away my sword, and throw it as far away as possible, so Bojan can’t hurt himself, but my whole body petrifies. He’s crying in front of me. My inability to read emotions is hitting me hard, because I want to know what he’s feeling right now so I can make him feel better, but I can’t recognise anything on his face. Is he…relieved? Happy? Terrified?

He closes his eyes, and waits for me to strike. I’m still petrified. My mind stops working for a few seconds that seem to last centuries.

When I can finally control my body again, I’m able to throw away my sword. Bojan won’t die today, not thanks to me. He doesn’t deserve to die, he’s an amazing being, and a stunningly gorgeous one too. I can’t take him away from this world, and from mine too.

I fall on my knees too, I grab his face and kiss him. My lips move against his motionless ones, but he kisses me back a few seconds later. I can taste him, and his emotions too. These kisses are just showing us how much we need each other. I, a seraph, need my little demon by my side.

When we stop, Bojan lays his forehead on mine.

“Please, let it be real,” He’s whispering. “Please, please, let it be real.”

I chuckle. “It’s real, Bojan.”

He looks me in the eyes. “Real-real kind of way or…real-I’m-in-some-sort-of-Heaven-for-demons-because-I’m-dead kind of way?” 

I gently caress his cheeks, then lean forwards just to kiss him again. This is my answer, at least my first one.  

“This kind of way, my little demon,” I add immediately after.

“I’m your little demon, then?”

I nod. I really enjoy calling him that. And he likes it too. I keep stroking his cheeks.

“What made you change your mind?”

“Your song,” my answer arrives instantly, he is still talking. “I had feelings for you, they developed pretty early, but I…wasn’t acknowledging their existence because I never had the chance to fall in love with someone,” I confess, feeling a little bit of embarrassment. Being a high ranking angel and having problems with your feelings isn’t the best thing, to be honest.

Bojan brings me back from my thoughts while he just slams on me, pushing me on the ground. He’s now on top of me, I feel my cheeks getting redder. 

“Well, now you have someone right here.”

I notice his cute little tail on his back, moving in the air. I smile. 

* * *

Since my first kiss with Bojan the weight I had on me immediately disappeared. My whole life I’ve been trained to despise, fight and kill demons. But Bojan, one of those same creatures, opened my eyes and changed my world. He made me discover that angels can love too, even beings they were taught to hate, and that maybe demons are not so bad as we are told.

Now we are inseparable and I can’t picture myself without my little demon by my side.

#kris' pov #bokris #bojan cvjetićanin #kris guštin #annies writes #my writing #joker out #joker out fanfic #baš ja koji nisam verovao da za nekim biću lud #love’s the death of peace of mind

[papermatisse]

As You Are || C.BG

♧ pairing: regency!choi beomgyu x reader

♧ genre: angst, fluff

♧ word count: 6.7k

♧ warnings: depression, historical anecdotes, misogyny

♧ synopsis: a lady is expected to wed early, lest she grow out of a desirable age before meeting her significant other and producing offsprings. so what happens to someone who manages to surpass this narrow age range without having married?

♧ (a/n): hello! this is an old fic of mine I wrote for my friend biaswreckingfics on her birthday! I was revisiting some older works, stumbled upon this forgotten fic, and decided to bring it back. since it was written for my friend in mind, her features are taken into consideration (so tall reader). hope you like it!

check out my friend's works as well! she has a new sangyeon fic in the making!

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It is a rather saddening truth, that a woman's worth is determined by her eligibility in finding a suitor worthy enough to bring honor to her family name. Because of these circumstances which our protagonist finds herself in, girls are raised to be the perfect contender in the ruthless competition of matrimony. Childhood seems to end in a single breath, and by the next inhalation, they've traded their dolls for cooking utensils and sewing kits, training for their inevitability. This is how it is, and this is how it shall always be. And yet some just seem to never quite grasp these universal truths.

From the moment she gained sentience, it seemed as though (y/n) was just another breed entirely. The kitchen became more a wasteland than anything else. Her embroidery could be identified by the specks of crimson blood adorning her incomprehensible cross stitch. The laundry would somehow return more filthy than when it had first been collected. It's known that girls are naturally taller than boys at a young age, though (y/n) continued to surpass the boys of her age group in height, her legs extending to the point that she deemed it superfluous for her to continue her waltzing lessons with such clumsy, gangly limbs—at least that's what she insisted, pushing aside the fact that she never really understood the basic maneuvers in dancing even before she had grown so tall.

Indeed, (y/n) seemed to be a lost cause. And after seven failed suitors, her mother finally gave in and accepted the fact that her first born daughter was to be an old maid till the end of her days. And so here lied (y/n), writing away in the privacy of her room, her one safe haven from the pressures of society and the expectations of her family. Seated at her desk, freshly inked quill in her hand as she jotted down her stories, the chill air of autumn seeping through the window she faced, and the only sounds filling her room was the scraping of her writing implement against the smooth parchment. If only this could forever be her world. Away from those inhibitions which plague her life, left alone with just her thoughts in tranquility. Though this peace lasted for no more than a few moments before she heard the telltale light footsteps descending down the stairs, followed by the familiar rapping at her door. And as per usual, (y/n) hadn't but a moment to gather her thoughts before the door was pushed open, and in came (y/n)'s youngest sister.

Their family consisted of three girls. There was the eldest, that being (y/n), of course.

The second eldest was named Eleanor, meaning light-hearted and shining. She was soft spoken with a melodious lilt to her voice which seemed to enrapture anyone in the room. So it wasn't a surprise that she was the first, and so far the only one, of the three to be married.

The youngest was called Aurelia, a name which carried as much grace as she displayed. Golden one was what it meant, and she seemed to naturally fit into this title bestowed upon her. Refined in how she acted and portrayed herself, and she was as delicate and dainty as a lisianthus.

And as elegant as her name dictates, Aurelia came waltzing into the room, her steps as light as air and a bright smile adorning her face.

"Oh, (y/n)," she sighed. "I couldn't be happier than I am at this very instance."

"And why's that?" Aurelia all but collapsed onto her sister's bed, yet another story escaping past her lips.

"I had yet another wondrous rendezvous with Beomgyu."

Of course. Yet another spiel regarding her potential fiance. Why had she even bothered to ask? All Aurelia talks about these past few weeks is Beomgyu. He was the son of a Lord, and a gentleman among men. Though (y/n) wasn't aware of the circumstances in which they first met, Aurelia insists it was love at first sight, and that she had finally met the man she wished to spend the rest of her life with. As absolutely delighted as (y/n) was for her sister, she couldn't help but feel that familiar twinge of envy within her. That she supposedly wasn't suitable enough for the happiness which comes with sharing your life with another soul, a natural phenomena which has been occurring since the dawn of man. The thought that her ancestors, whom all married and given birth to her other relatives, have managed for so long only for her to be the end of their efforts.

"And as we walked through his estate's garden, he told me that I was fairer than any flower could ever possibly hope to be."

(y/n) controlled her expression, wanting so desperately to cringe at the repulsing display of affection, choosing to hum in acknowledgement. Who in their right mind has the gall to say such outlandish words as that?

"Aurelia!" Their mother's voice sounded from the first floor, garnering both of their attentions. "It seems you have a guest." Aurelia all but bounded off the bed and down the stairs as (y/n) slowly followed after. As she neared the steps, she could hear the shrill tone of her sister's excited voice, as well as an unfamiliar male one responding. Once (y/n) rounded the corner where the steps now faced the front door, she could see the source of this additional person. "(y/n), come meet our guest."

A man stood at the entrance of their abode, greeting their mother whilst having his arm entrapped in Aurelia's embrace. As he turned to face her descending the stairs, (y/n) felt her heart stutter in surprise.

Never before has she seen a man as ethereal as he. He seemed to not only easily tower over her disappointingly short sister, but also herself, a rarity in her community as she is usually the one to have to lower her gaze upon meeting a person. His hair was rather long, brushing against the back of his neck as well as curtaining much of his ears and forehead. Beneath the veil of brunette locks, however, lay a set of round eyes, deep yet as saccharine as the shade of chocolate they obtained. His nose was tall and straight, sloping down into a rounded tip which further softened his already rather youthful appearance. His rose-like lips spread into a jovial grin, round eyes crinkling endearingly. (y/n) felt absolutely stupid as he introduced himself, bowing his head ever so slightly in a respectful manner.

"Good evening to you, Lady (l/n) . I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

"As am I," (y/n) warily spoke, attempting to keep her facade. Hoping to not reveal how genuinely awestruck she was to see such a handsome man. "To you, of course. Not my own acquaintance."

At this, Beomgyu burst into a fit of enthused laughter, intermingling with Aurelia's giggles from below them both.

"Isn't my sister such a delight!" Aurelia squeezed his arm to gain his attention, causing the two to drop their heads to acknowledge her. "Let's all have tea together! I know you only came to drop off my gloves, but I'd love for two of my favorite people to be familiar with one another."

And so there they sat in the parlor, an otherwise peaceful encounter if it weren't for (y/n)'s inner panic. She had never been good at etiquette, and never had to really use her limited knowledge, as she remained in her room rather than becoming a socialite much like her sisters. And so she kept a careful eye on Aurelia, attempting to follow her lead as best she can, concentrating so intensely that she had completely abandoned the conversation at hand.

"Would you agree, (y/n)?"

"Pardon?" She raised her head to where the two across from her sat staring back at her. "I apologize, my mind was elsewhere."

"Oh, that's entirely understandable, and also kind of takes us back to the topic at hand." Aurelia smiled once more, cradling her teacup and saucer close to her. "In which I was explaining how difficult it is to combat what your body naturally desires. For instance, the way your body just seems to follow along when a familiar tune plays," she slowly raised the teacup to her lips, "or perhaps correcting muscle memory." As she sipped her tea silently, her eyes traveled up to (y/n), though failing to meet her eyes. Instead, her gaze landed upon (y/n)'s hand, holding her teacup as well, though without a saucer, as well as extending her pinkie. She quickly tucked the finger back against her palm, just like her sister, which placed the joy back unto her face. "Isn't this delightful!"

"Indeed," (y/n) sighed out, tossing her head back and finishing off the tea in her cup. When she placed her dishes unto the table between them, she looked over once more to the two. They both had smiles across their face, though Aurelia's was in an attempt to hide her shock at (y/n)'s crude etiquette while Beomgyu's was pure, unadulterated enthusiasm, having to duck his head down at one point to conceal his amusement.

"If you'll excuse me," Aurelia stood up, hands neatly folded in front of her. "I need to powder my nose." Once she exited the room, Beomgyu burst into laughter once more, a sound unlike anything (y/n) has ever heard. It was full of vigor, uncaring of his environment, and just absolutely buoyant. It was so different to what she had heard from the front door before. This felt genuine, perhaps the first dose of honesty she's experienced from another person.

"Pardon me," Beomgyu wiped at his eyes, as if having shed a tear from his moment. "I've never seen Aurelia so close to snapping, that was absolutely hysterical."

"You're not offended?" (y/n) asked, softly chuckling in disbelief at the display before. Beomgyu lost the rigidity in his spine, now strewn back on the sofa cushions like a ragdoll.

"By what? Your lack of etiquette? I thought it was quite hilarious, in all honesty." (y/n) leaned back on the sofa as well, following the casual demeanor he was now exuding.

"Well, most people do indeed think my etiquette is laughable, though not in the good way."

"So be it. Etiquette is vexing in itself. I've never been a fan of learning it."

"Neither have I." He glanced over upon hearing her response, the edges of his lips twitching up ever so slightly. Though they remained silent afterwards, there seemed to be an air of comfort shrouding them, a feeling which (y/n) thought only possible in her own fiction. To be so aware of another person, entrusting of them, that the barriers which had been forticated for as long as she could remember began to slowly crumble, brick by brick. To voluntarily lay out what she's kept to herself for years, and to look at another person and not find ulterior motives beneath their mask of regality, concealing any and all signs of their humanity as they paraded about in luxury and grandeur. It felt so... relieving to (y/n) to have found another human amidst a world of mannequins.

Though once Aurelia returned, the masks were once more put up, backs straightening as she made her way back to her suitor.

That's right. Her suitor. The thought pained (y/n) in a way, though she brushed it off, savoring the last few moments with her new associate before he had to return to his own estate.

"Thank you for the tea," Beomgyu stated, bowing once more as Aurelia returned his gesture with a quaint curtsy.

"Thank you for the company." He then turned to (y/n), that same gentle smile from before gracing his features as he bowed his head to her.

"It was an honor to meet you."

"And you, as well." With one last nod of his head, Beomgyu departed.

"Isn't he just the sweetest soul you've ever met?" Aurelia squealed as she closed the door. And though she had already walked away from the foyer, (y/n) stood for a moment more, face heating up as she couldn't help but agree with her sister's query.

Days had passed, and the autumn chill had devolved into the winter cold. (y/n) spent most of her days bundled in blankets beside the fireplace, going through book after book in her collection. She could barely even turn the pages from her numbed fingers, let alone attempt to continue her writing. And beside her was her sister, similarly wrapped in a plethora of coats and layers, though the one difference between the two was the rather apparent distaste of the temperature on (y/n)'s part. Aurelia reveled in the cold, absolutely abhorring the sweltering heat of summer, and though she very easily became freezing with just the briefest of breezes, she still loved the frigid sensation which overwhelmed her body.

Which is why (y/n) now found herself away from her beloved fireplace, left shivering out in the unforgiving frozen hellscape because her sister wanted to celebrate the first snow. To make matters worst, Beomgyu stood beside (y/n), watching Aurelia frolic in the snowy landscape to her heart's content.

(y/n) was still shaken from her encounter with the man prior. She had assumed the event would have been long forgotten after a good night's sleep, though that did not come easy, as the boy had found a comfortable spot at the forefront of her mind.

She felt disgusted with herself. How easy it was to conjure the sounds of his laughter, like a lullaby placing her in a state of tranquility. How the coy grin he wears so often manages to set her heart aflutter. How she was so capable of etching his face into her memory. The guilt she felt every time she closed her eyes and envisioned him looking upon her with those doting eyes of his.

This was her sister's suitor. She needed to ground herself. Settle back into reality. Move past this sudden infatuation she has with him.

"I've always despised the cold." Beomgyu broke her out of her thoughts. She turned her head to see him looking down at her, that smirk on his face once more.

"So have I."

"Oh, so it doesn't run in the (l/n) blood?" (y/n) chuckled at this, shaking her head and turning back to Aurelia, already beginning to make a snowman.

"Absolutely not. My sister and I have both loathed winters."

"There is indeed beauty to a winter, though I agree. That beauty is rather surface level, and the further in you dig, the more suffering you'll uncover."

(y/n) huffed out a breath, watching it condense into a wispy cloud before fading away.

"Indeed."

A comfortable silence fell upon them once more as they watched the snowman slowly come to life. Naturally, (y/n) seemed to lean closer to Beomgyu, the heat of his body radiating off him in waves and seeming to lure her to him. Though she must've been rather obvious in her pursuit for warmth, because Beomgyu cleared his throat, startling her away from him.

"Here." He reached up and began unraveling the scarf around his neck, causing (y/n) to shoot her hands up and grab his wrists.

"No, please, keep it on."

"I insist. I would hate to hear that you became sick after this." He continued in removing his scarf, but (y/n) persisted.

"Well, I would equally hate to hear you have gotten sick." Beomgyu paused, widening his grin as he faced the snow beneath him. After a moment, seconds after (y/n) believed she had won the battle, he turned to her.

"Then it's only fair I at least share my scarf with you."

(y/n) stared at him incredulously as he offered the loose end of his scarf, though after she remained frozen in her place, Beomgyu reached over her, gently wrapping the other end around her neck. He had grown significantly closer to her, his nose almost skimming the skin of her forehead. The warmth of his breath fanned against her face, and she hoped that he'd assume the blush creeping up on her cheeks was nothing more than a result of the bitter winds.

He stepped back once he completed his work, though not far at all, laughing as the material tugged them back together, shoulder to shoulder. His scent was imbibed in the knitting, a warm sensation of cedar and coffee, seemingly swarming her in a sense of solace. Another glance to Aurelia, and it seemed her snowman was very nearly done, having donated her own scarf to him. She began making her way back to them, and (y/n) panicked, attempting to convince herself to remove herself from Beomgyu, though staying perfectly still as she approached.

"(y/n)! May I borrow your mittens?" She asked, supposedly unbothered by the display before her. As if by muscle memory, (y/n) shed her mittens, handing them over to her sister, who gratefully accepted them and made her way back to her creation. Though the mittens themselves weren't doing much to protect (y/n) from the cold, she still missed the near damp material that she believed was keeping her warm. Before she could even slip her hands into the pockets of her dress, a warm hand suddenly enveloped her own, tugging her closer to snatch the other one as well.

"What are you doing?" (y/n) questioned, the rosy tint of her cheeks increasing tenfold as he rubbed his palms against her clasped hands.

"Preventing you from getting sick." He explained. Before she could refute him, he raised their conjoined hands, breathing out unto her skin. The heat traveled up from the pads of her fingers directly to her chest where her poor heart seemed to thud away in nervousness. As if to make matters worst, he leaned in ever so slightly, eyes still trained on his task between them. "I like the way your hands fit into mine."

(y/n) yanked her hands away in a panic, staring back at Beomgyu who proceeded to only laugh fondly at her actions. Just as she untangled herself from his scarf, Aurelia returned, smiling brightly at the two of them.

"I've completed him! Let's have tea now." She linked her arm with Beomgyu, who shot (y/n) another glance before turning back and continuing his walk with Aurelia.

For weeks, it continued on with interactions such as this. Beomgyu approaching (y/n) only to have her scramble away in fear. Whenever Aurelia was busy, whether that be out shopping or spending time with the other ladies of high society, (y/n) found herself in the company of Beomgyu.

What had first begun as coincidences, him visiting only to be met with the absence of Aurelia, soon became frequent occurrences, to the point that it'd almost seem like he was only visiting on days he knew she'd be gone. He also had begun just automatically asking for (y/n), not even attempting to see if Aurelia were present.

What once was simple home visits became full fledged outings as Beomgyu insisted on taking her out once the snow had dissolved away. Though the air was still crisp and the threat of snow still lingered, it already seemed like winter's grasp on the land was begrudgingly weakening by the day.

So now here she sat in a rowboat, gripping a parasol as Beomgyu gently rowed them down the river. Though she had at first refused, Beomgyu continued to regale her with the forecast, telling her she'll never see a day as beautiful as this one. That he wanted ever so badly to share this splendor with her. At this point, (y/n) knew she was developing feelings for the boy, and she sensed he knew this and was using it against her. Yet her grumbling has all but ceased as she basked in the glory of the day.

It seemed as if spring had decided to make a brief appearance in January. The sun was out, its rays seemingly encompassing the earth in a golden haze. Sage greenery greeted her with every turn of her head, aside from the clear water below her that murmured with every jostle of the boat. And even as nature displayed its grandeur in such a way, her eyes still lingered upon the one who dragged her out of her house.

It was quiet between the two, with only the trickling sounds of water surrounding them, and yet (y/n) has never felt so at ease. Her heart ached at the thought of Beomgyu. How close, and yet so impossibly far from her he was. Because no matter how much she yearned for his touch, his affections, his everything, he was still and always will be her sister's.

These thoughts still lingered in her head, even as Beomgyu brought the boat back to shore and helped her out with the offer of his hand, she felt the immense guilt clutching at her, refusing to release her as long as she still saw him in such a way.

She glanced down, seeing how he was still holding her hand as he led her away from the shore. He often did reach out for her at times, and though she'd occasionally allow him to, she'd also pull away if it lasted too long. Though at this very moment, she couldn't find it in herself to slip away from his touch. As if noticing this, he stopped walking, turning around to face her.

His eyes were so soft, that same gentle brown she was becoming more and more obsessed with. Warm and smooth like melted chocolate, as if she could dive in and never resurface, though she wouldn't ever complain. The corners of his lips pulled up in a smile, and the grip he had on her tightened ever so slightly, as if hoping to keep her from slipping away again.

"What are you thinking?" (y/n) asked, snickering at Beomgyu's sudden expression. He paused for a moment more before exhaling through his nose in a subtle laugh.

"It's just much easier to look upon you," he whispered, though they remained the only ones in the general vicinity. "Yes, you do indeed give my neck some relief from craning downwards always," the two of them shared a giggle before he proceeded, "but I also find you... incredibly charming."

"Charming, you say?" (y/n) questioned, continuing to walk forward and cease the conversation, though Beomgyu still held her hand, not allowing her to abandon his touch.

"Charming. Fascinating. Endearing." He pressed on, tugging her in a way which caused her to spin back and face him. "Unique. Ambitious. Genuine." He stepped closer to her, so close she could once more feel his breath against her skin. "Lovely. Beautiful." His forehead leant on to hers, noses brushing together. "Flawed in the most perfect of ways." His voice gradually dropped until it was no more than a murmur under his breath, though his words revolved around her, muddling her mind with inner conflictions that all seemed to corrode away with just the mere thought of him and the way his hand was now resting on the side of her neck, thumb brushing against her cheek as he leaned in more and more.

She lowered her head, feeling the warmth of his lips brush against her forehead as she narrowly evaded his kiss.

"We can't." Beomgyu remained quiet for a second more before quirking his head to the side, attempting to meet (y/n)'s gaze now trained on the grass between them.

"We are both capable adults." She squeezed her eyes shut at how casual he was taking the situation, cursing him as she was forced to suffer the past few weeks because of him.

"I can't."

"Why not?" At this, she tossed her head back up to look at him, brows furrowed in confusion as he continued to smile.

"Are you mad? My sister adores you."

"Yes, she does." He confirmed with a nod.

"I will not hurt my sister's feelings in such a way." Beomgyu's expression faltered, his smile vanishing as his eyebrows lowered in confusion.

"And what of my feelings? Am I to be condemned to her side 'til death knocks upon my door? Are my feelings not any of your concern?" He squeezed the hand still in his, pressing his forehead once more onto hers. "I adore you, (y/n). You're correct, I am mad. Mad to have once believed for a second that I could marry Aurelia after having met you. Mad to have thought I could lock my true feelings away. Mad to have fallen so deeply, endlessly in love with the one person out of my grasp." Moisture welled up in her eyes, her lips quivering as tears freely cascaded down Beomgyu's face. "(y/n), I am so madly in love with you." With shaky hands, he lifted her own to his face, pressing his lips unto the vein of her wrist before laying his head in her palm, his eyes remaining shut as his tears had begun soaking into her gloves, the moisture which seeped through sending jolts of anguish through her. Her body wracked with silent sobs, never before having endured such a painful experience. She wanted so badly to accept him, to kiss his tears away, embosom him to her and reassure him that she wouldn't ever leave his side. And yet, she found herself retracting from his touch, despair shuttering out of him in a broken, defeated sob which cracked her heart like glass against the floorboards.

"I can't."

She hadn't known what was left in her, what had compelled her to continue forth with this narrative she was keeping to. She hadn't known what motivated her to turn and walk away, abandoning the boy who willingly gave her his entire being, leaving him as but a shell of his former self.

At some point, she knelt down on the ground, knowing she was out of his sight, though still close enough to hear his cries which filled the atmosphere. Her body quaked with emotion, stomach churning like snakes twisting and coiling, Her jaw had dropped, though no noise left her, caught by the lump which formed in her throat. Her body wept for the boy she had let go, and though every fiber of her being seemed to claw away at her, demanding she turn back for him, she proceeded to drag herself back home.

The next few days had been torturous. As if tormenting her already darkened mind, the snow had returned, though rather than the fluffy whiteness she had spent with Beomgyu, it was practically black outside. The winds beat against her window, demanding entry as she fought her demons. She couldn't even will herself to lay beside her sister beside the fireplace. Her dear sister.

Aurelia was constantly checking upon (y/n). She didn't know what seemed to plague (y/n), though she persisted in taking care of her. Collecting every blanket in the house and layering them all on top of her. Bringing her food and insisting she eat. Even pulling aside her writing chair to keep her company, away from their precious fireplace just to ensure (y/n) wasn't lonely. As sweet as this all was, (y/n) couldn't help but ask her to leave her be for the time being. The mere sight of her sister reminded her of what she had done those few days ago.

Due to the storm, luckily, Beomgyu hasn't visited, allowing (y/n) some comfort in knowing he's most likely safe and warm in his own home. Her heart ached, the last image of Beomgyu being his most vulnerable, broken self. She knew she'd eventually see him again, but she dreaded that moment. She still loved him. She couldn't face him. Not like this.

More days passed, and the snow seemed to lighten up a bit. However, the mood of the house seemingly shifted whilst she was locked away in her room. The halls were quiet, the parlor empty, it seemed the only life in the house was the few servants moving to and fro.

No Aurelia in sight.

It had only taken a day for one of the maids to answer (y/n)'s questions. Aurelia had received a letter and hasn't come out of her room since. She rarely ate, rarely ever moved from her bed. It seemed the depression which had struck (y/n) had transferred to her younger sister. And so here she stood, at the top of the stairs leading to the attic where Aurelia resided. She knocked, though there was no answer.

"Aurelia?" She called out, knocking once more. Nothing. She bit her lip, clenching her fist in anticipation. "Aurelia, I'm coming in. Okay?" Silence.

She pushed open the door, greeted by the cold air which struck her upon entry.

Having been further from the main area of the house, this room was always the coldest, though Aurelia had insisted she was fine there. Even after Eleanor had moved out, she said she didn't want to tamper with Eleanor's childhood room. Always so considerate of her sisters, yet had been left on her lonesome.

The air was still, a stale scent lingering as if the room had been left empty, though the lump under the bed proved that false.

"Aurelia?" (y/n) whispered out, approaching her sister's limp body. Her shoulders moved steadily, as if in deep slumber, but her eyes remained opened, red rimmed and puffy, the only sense of color to her otherwise pale complexion. Her hair lay lifeless over her, her lips chapped from the frigidity encasing her. (y/n) brushed back her hair, wincing at how cold her skin was. "Aurelia, what's the matter?"

The only indication of her having heard the question in the first place was the shutting of her eyes and a slight shift in her blankets. Nothing more. (y/n) stood up, ready to go retrieve the necessary items to take care of her before she saw a letter lying haphazardly on the center of the floor.

(y/n) went to pick it up when she suddenly froze. The first word to have caught her eye as she got closer.

Beomgyu.

She gulped, crouching slowly to pick up the letter, hands shaking as she grew closer. The edges of the parchment were crumpled, and a few letters blurred with water damage, though the contents of the letter were still apparent.

A breakup letter.

His penmanship was sloppy, word choice even worse, and though the letter was absolutely a travesty, worthy of hatred from any person who received it, (y/n) couldn't help but feel her heart wrench at his words.

I've fallen in love with another. And I cannot find myself marrying anyone else. Nor would that be fair for you to have to manage me, a hopeless case. I sincerely apologize.

"He didn't love me." A voice croaked behind (y/n), gravelly from lack of use. When (y/n) turned, she was greeted by the same image as before, unmoving as she continued to speak. "What had I done wrong?"

"You did nothing wrong." (y/n) insisted, shuffling on her knees back to Aurelia's bedside. "None of this is your fault." (y/n) rubbed her hand along her sister's forearm, both in an attempt to relieve her and warm her. "Emotions are a complicated manner. Some may spend their lives devoting themselves to their loved ones, while others will merely accept said love and be on their merry way." Aurelia remained quiet for a second until speaking.

"What does Beomgyu's love feel like?"

(y/n)'s blood ran cold, perhaps even colder than the state of the room itself. Aurelia rolled over, her empty, sunken expression now facing her. She stared expectantly, awaiting the answer from the only person in the world who could answer it. And though (y/n) felt the compulsion to play it off, pretend she hadn't any idea to what her sister was eluding to, she could see it would've been redundant, as Aurelia knew.

"He unquestionably gives his entire heart when in love," (y/n) began, unsure why Aurelia would want to torture herself more, though still abiding to her request. "Thinks more of the other than himself. The simplest way to appease him is to allow him to show you his devotion, whether that be accepting his every word or just merely giving him a hand to hold." (y/n) allowed the memories of Beomgyu she had been forcing back to play once more in her mind, tears returning to her own eyes at the thoughts of the sweet boy she had met this winter. "He's someone that, although he can be insufferable at times with his shenanigans, you wish to spend your every waking moment with him until your last breaths."

She gazed back at Aurelia who observed her with hollow eyes, absorbing every word spoken. Though she remained still, (y/n) could practically see the gears turning in her head.

"You refused his love on my part, and so I now insist you reciprocate his feelings for my sake," Aurelia grumbled, groaning as she pushed herself up. (y/n) helped her along the way until she was now in an upright seated position.

"What do you mean?" (y/n) asked, breaths became more shallow as she anticipated her sister's intentions.

"Well, who am I to come between true love, wouldn't you agree?" She spoke in a dry chuckle, placing her hand atop (y/n)'s. "Go on. You deserve to pursue your happiness. Thank you for everything." As brief of an encounter as it was, (y/n) felt the emotion seeping from Aurelia, the acceptance hidden beneath her layers of apathy.

So (y/n) found herself trekking through the snow, coat upon coat protecting her from nature's assault upon her. Though the further in she got, and the closer she was to her destination, the lighter the snowfall seemed to get, as if the forces of the universe were cheering her on in her endeavor. She ignored the ache in her feet, the shake in her arms, the numbness upon her face. When the manor had come into view like a beacon in the night, she pressed on, huffing as she attempted to increase her speed through the tracks of snow in her way.

She flinched as she knocked on the door, unsure if she were too loud or too soft, though before she could attempt to knock again, the door swung open, revealing a startled maid upon seeing her—a tall figure encased in snow and fabric, seemingly a creature crawling forth from the shadows. Before the maid could truly process what was before her, a voice from behind startled them both.

"Who's at the door?" (y/n) peered in through the crack of the entrance, spotting Beomgyu approaching the two. She called out to him, voice muffled by the five different scarfs wrapped around her neck. And with only a glimpse at her eyes, Beomgyu widened his own, reaching for her sleeve and tugging her in. "Heavens, what in the world are you doing parading around in this storm, you could've died. You could've gotten lost and I wouldn't have been able to find you. That's rather reckless, you should know better, you're an intelligent wom—"

"I love you," (y/n) interrupted as Beomgyu had peeled off her final scarf. He froze in his spot, blinking away his shock at the sudden confession.

"You what?" He asked, voice low, afraid his volume would startle her off and shatter this dreamlike aura.

"I love you. From the moment I first heard you laugh to right now, and until death knocks upon our doors," she laughed in reference to his own words, shuffling closer to him as he warily raised his arms to drape around her. "I love you, Beomgyu. I love you with as much love contained within me and then some."

"(y/n)," He laughed in disbelief, tears already escaping his eyes, pure wonderment at the situation at hand. "(y/n), I love you."

He leant in, finally pressing his lips to her own. His warmth overwhelmed her, starting from his touch upon her frozen skin to the depths of her heart slowly healing from his absence. He cradled her to him, as close as he could with the fabrics built between them. Even as her ice like fingers pressed against the nape of his neck, he continued to push on, the two pouring into each other the adoration they had been abstaining from revealing, reveling in the light airiness of their now reciprocated feelings. Even as they pulled away, noses nuzzling together, embracing their first few moments as a couple, (y/n) could feel her heart throbbing in joy.

She'd finally found her one true love.

#beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #txt x reader #kpop x reader #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fanfiction #beomgyu fic #choi beomgyu fanfic #choi beomgyu fanfiction #choi beomgyu fic #txt fanfiction #txt fanfic #txt fic #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fic

[thetaleoflevi]

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It Isn’t

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Prequel- It Was

Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Content: NSFW, Modern AU, Angst(?)

Content Warnings: 18+ smut, reader wears earrings, Implied string of one night stands (Levi), mentions of alcohol, explicit language, anxious feelings, Levi had like two sips of whiskey and still drove reader home, dubcon (alcohol intoxication), kissing, unprotected sex (BE SAFE), breast play, Levi and reader are broken up, i don’t know idkkk, 18+ smut x2

Description: Levi isn’t coping with your break up well at all. He has a string of one night stands on his name, and he refuses to leave his house, until one night after work when Hange invites him and a few friends to a club. Surprise, surprise! You’re on the dance floor.

Word Count: 6.7k

A/N: Hi hi! I’m back with this monstrosity of a fic. I wrote most of it while laying on a hammock, and 90% percent of the time I was distracted by my fear of the hammock flipping, so if it’s not a good read, blame the hammock.. Jk, I genuinely hope you enjoy :))

⭐️Taglist: @urfilgoth @ackermandick

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Truthfully, Levi had never been a promiscuous man, but fucking hell, you broke his heart. You took your love away from him, and showed him what he feared the most about life. You showed him that all good things come to an end.

He never calls the women he takes to bed, again. It may be the best fuck they’ve ever had, but Levi can’t lie and say the same thing. If he’s being completely honest with himself, he only finishes because he still remembers the way you sounded during those hushed nights when he would bury his face between your legs, to coax your tiredness because you couldn’t sleep, or the passionate nights that ended with both of you looking like you fucked with pure hatred—red scratches, hickeys, teeth indentations, and bruises littering your bodies.

Levi definitely feels like shit afterwards, every time, because he realizes that you’re not actually there, and he has once again used another woman to cope with the pain.

He calls a cab for the woman who’s eyes he left stars in. She stands on the sidewalk, her back to the cab. She leans forward and presses a kiss to Levi’s cheek. He doesn’t react, but instead takes a step towards the cab, opening the door for the woman to get in the backseat. He wishes her a good night, and waits for the car to drive off before returning to his room.

He sits on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone. His heartbeat sounded like rain on windshields—loud and unsettling. There’s nothing stopping him from calling you, so he picks up his phone and calls the contact labeled ‘⚡️’. He remembered the look on your face when you saw that your contact name wasn’t something basic like ‘Baby’ or ‘Love’ or even ‘Girlfriend’. It wasn’t a look of disappointment or disapproval, instead one of surprise mixed with adoration for the originality.

—

Why the lighting bolt, Ackerman?

You know, because…because…

Because?

You give me energy, and my heart beats as fast as the strike of a lighting bolt when I see you.

Levi, it’s perfect! I love it, and I love you!

—

“Hello? Levi, are you there?” You repeat for the third time.

“Huh? Oh, um, yes. I’m here,” he finally answers, leaving his headspace.

“Why did you call? It’s really late.”

Levi’s leg bounces with anxiety. You sounded like you were sleeping, and he just woke you up to talk your ear off.

“I just sent someone home,” he answers. He doesn’t know why he had to tell you that when he desperately wants you back.

“Okay? I really wanted details about your sex life,” you say, sarcastically, on the line. “Did you call for any other reason, Levi?”

“I’m not bragging about it. I-I don’t know why I even brought it up. I just… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” His throat goes dry as he becomes vulnerable for you. “I just needed… your voice.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaustion lowering the amount of patience you have.

“You’ve been calling every night for a week now.”

“You don’t always answer.” He lays back on the bed.

“We’re broken up.”

“I know.”

There’s silence between you and Levi, like you’ve run out of things to say, and truthfully, Levi went into this without a plan.

“If you don’t have anything else to say, I’m gonna hang up. I don’t have time for this.”

“See, that was the fucking problem.” Time has been a sensitive topic for him since the break up. “You never had time for me. You always had somewhere to be, and I practically begged you… I begged you to take me with you whenever you could.”

You roll your eyes, on the brink of fully waking up with no chance of falling asleep easily. You’re thinking you should have let the phone continue to ring as soon as ‘Levi’ popped up on the screen.

“Can we not bring this argument back. If it was such a problem, why do you still call me? You’re pointlessly suffering my absence.”

Levi uses every bit of patience he has left to restrain from raising his voice. You can’t be this clueless, though.

“I gave you three years of my life. My world revolved around you and only you. How the fuck do you expect me to act like you never had a designated side on my bed?”

The silence returns, causing your stomach to flip uncomfortably. You have nothing to say. You can’t get back together with Levi. You feel bad for making him feel the way he does, but that break up was so hard to bear, and it took you so long to feel just okay. You don’t know if you can bring the joy back to his life, just to repeat the events that happened the first time around.

You try not to laugh on the line, but end up giggling, and you instantly mute your microphone to compose yourself. The few seconds of the sound were enlightening to Levi.

“What’s so funny?”

You come back five seconds later, still trying not to laugh.

“I was gonna tell you to get a twin sized bed, and then I pictured you in a twin sized bed. Sorry, it’s completely immature of me to laugh right now.”

“I sometimes forget how…childish you are. It’s not the first thing that comes to mind when I think of you, but I see I shouldn’t let it go over my head.”

“Can I go back to sleep, now?”

“You can do whatever you want.”

“Alright, then. Goodnight, Levi.”

“Goodnight.”

The loneliness picks at his stoic façade, and makes him curl in on himself. He doesn’t know when he’ll see you again, or when you’ll let him see you again, but until then, all he can do is dream and think of you twenty-four seven.

—

“Hey, Levi~!” Hange says, almost sprinting into his office.

“Yes?” He simply responds, not turning to face them.

“Can you at least look like you didn’t just get your heart ripped out? You’re kind of killing my mood,” they say, the chipper sound in their tone fading by the second.

“If you don’t like the way I am, no one’s forcing you to be around me,” Levi responds, coldly. He has yet to spare a glance at the other person in the room.

“Okay, okay, calm down. You need to get laid or something.”

It’s like Hange was tugging on his nerves, just waiting for one to snap. The last thing Levi needed was another one night stand.

He stayed silent, no longer wishing to be part of this conversation.

“Let’s get you out of your mansion, tonight. Me and the others were gonna go to a club after work. I’m bringing you along.” The glimmer in their eyes returns, the thought of seeing Levi less tense a relieving one.

“It’s not a mansion,” Levi says, his signature penned aggressively above a black line. “And I’ll pass on the club. I’ll be busy tonight.”

“Doing what? Moping around over her?” Hange points at an artificial flower on Levi’s desk, the one you gave him when you told him that his office was lifeless. You really made him laugh with that one, considering the fact that you gave him yet another lifeless object.

“It’s none of your business.” He flips a page over, scanning the dark print, top to bottom.

“Do something for yourself, Levi. You’re becoming the husk of your former self.” They put a folder on Levi’s desk, the main reason they were in his office to begin with. “We’re leaving at eight thirty. Catch up with us if you change your mind.”

Hange turns around, closing the door as they leave Levi’s office. Levi was hard on Hange, he realizes that much, but he hates the idea of his pain being dismissed, like it’s something he should avoid feeling at all. He’ll insinuate an apology with a cup of coffee, and it’ll be like they never had this conversation.

—

“Should we go home and dress up or do you guys just want to head to the club?”

Levi hears Hange talking to Moblit and Nanaba as they walk past his office. He quickly picks his things up from his desk, his coat lifted off the hook on his door, and he follows the trio towards the exit of the building.

“Oh, hey, Levi,” Moblit says, an awkward wave of his hand to the man beside him. “Are you coming with us for drinks?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess I can hang out for a couple hours.”

Nanaba laughs at Hange’s shit-eating grin. “You really know how to bring out the best in people,” she mutters to them. The blonde looks over at Levi. “Glad to see you joining us, Levi. Let’s all have a good time, tonight.”

The four nod in agreement.

“I knew you’d come through. You’ll have a good time with us, I swear! Right guys?” Hange looks at Moblit and Nanaba with wide eyes.

“Definitely. After like four shots, Moblit sits in the middle of the dance floor and sings like he’s at a bonfire.”

The brunette becomes immediately flustered, mumbling to Nanaba about why she has to put him on the spot like that.

“I look forward to seeing the show you put on in your intoxicated state,” Levi says, following the group outside the building.

—

The music was excruciatingly loud. Levi could barely hear himself shout over the sound of the booming speakers, but truth be told, he wasn’t thinking about you. He looked over at Nanaba who seemed to be having a pretty flirtatious chat with the bartender. The woman was enjoying Nanaba’s drunken ramblings about how her eyes were so pretty, and that the tie she wore was sexy.

He turned to see that Hange was attached to Moblit’s hip—literally. They were basically grinding all over each other, in synchrony with the majority of the couples around them. It made Levi shake his head with shame for the shameless, but he thought this was better than watching the overflowing tension between them in the workplace.

He sighed, reaching for the cup of whiskey in front of him. The amber colored drink slides down the side of his glass, spilling down his chin, and dripping onto his shirt.

“Fuck.” He grabs a napkin to wipe up his glowing skin.

“One gin and tonic, please,” you request, unknowingly only a few seats to the left of Levi.

“That’s a basic drink,” Levi mutters to himself. “Only person I know who orders that is…”

“Thank you,” you smile, taking the drink to the dance floor again.

He can’t move, but he has to. You’ll get lost in the crowd and he won’t see you again until you come get another drink, if you even order another one.

He turns in his stool, looking for you, the woman with the satin floral dress. You have two pairs of small, golden, hoop earrings on each ear lobe, and your hair is tucked behind your ears.

Bullseye.

A pair of steel grey eyes is glued to you, observing your every move. The smile on your face, enhanced by the alcohol coursing through your veins, is watched with softened, tired eyes. If Levi had permission, he would sway with you, and never let you go, in fear of making you feel as lonely as he is without you.

“Who are you watching?” Nanaba says, setting a hand on Levi’s shoulder. She points herself in the same direction, scanning the crowd until someone familiar is in sight. “Damn, Levi! Your radar must have been screaming at you, huh?”

“You reek like booze and Valentino,” Levi grumbles, slightly nudging her away.

She chuckles, leaning in once more. “The bartender and I had a little chat in the bathroom. Now, I have a proposition for you.”

Levi is surprised Nanaba can use that word in this state, but he’s interested enough to lend an ear.

“I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

“What are you talking about?” Levi turns to watch you dancing again. He’s mesmerized by the movement of your hips.

“If you decide to run away with her, tonight, I didn’t see you.” The blonde winks. “But, you didn’t hear about me and the bartender. I’d like to keep my squeaky clean image for Moblit and Hange.”

Levi furrows his eyebrows, clearly confused by Nanaba’s drunken slurs. “I’m fucking with you, Levi. They know I’m smooth with my tongue, and expect me to go home with someone every time we go out, until I find the person we refer to as a ‘Levi Lover’.”

“What the hell is a ‘Levi Lover’?”

Nanaba clears her throat, preparing to recite the definition of the made up category.

“‘Levi Lover’, coined and defined by craziness enthusiast, Hange Zoe, is a person who you fall completely, and wholly in love with for eternity.”

“That person came up with that term?” He nods in Hange and Moblit’s direction. They’re both sitting on the floor, holding hands, with their legs crossed and their eyes closed, singing along to the music.

Nanaba almost folds over laughing when she sees them, but nods in response to Levi’s question. “I added the ‘in love for eternity’ part because Hange made you sound like a wild animal by saying that Levis mate for life.”

He actually grins at that. “I like your version better.”

She watches the entranced look on Levi’s face as you take a sip of your drink. “Go, Levi. She’s dancing alone.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna go hang out with Ms. Bartender again. If I come back and you’re either, A: still here on this stool, not talking to the pretty lady with the tight floral dress, or B: not gone from the club with the pretty lady in the tight floral dress’s hand in yours, you owe me fifty bucks.”

Before he can even argue, Nanaba starts for the other side of the club.

Your cup is completely empty, so you head towards the bar again, in desperate need for a refill.

“One gin and tonic for the woman in the black floral dress.”

“Levi?”

“Hey. It’s been a while,” he says, sarcastically. His drink is still pretty much full. He doesn’t like the taste, but he’s come to the realization that it’s not all about the taste, but the effect it leaves on you as well. Tea is nothing like this. It tastes good, it calms him and helps him relax when all he wants to do is throw the world into the universe’s garbage.

“It’s not weird seeing you here at all. Are you here alone?” You walk towards him, plopping down on the stool over.

“Looks like it, but, no. Nanaba’s over there, and Hange and Moblit are on the floor. I’m surprised you didn’t see them.”

“I’m here with a couple friends, too. I’ve been trying to ditch them for the last thirty minutes, though, since they already ditched me for some two point fives.

“I’m surprised to see you here, too, of all places.”

You raised the glass the bartender gives you, a silent cheers, and downed a third of it in one gulp.

“I didn’t want to come out tonight to begin with. I’ve been trying to go home since I got here.”

Levi sniffs his drink one more time before deciding he doesn’t want to take another sip. “You want me to take you home?” he asks, pulling out his wallet to pay off the tab of drinks that had accumulated between him, Hange, and Moblit. He’s pretty sure Nanaba has been getting free drinks from the other bartender.

“Really?” you ask, to which Levi nods.

“I’ve been making an escape plan, myself. I now have one, so let’s get out while we can.”

“Okay,” you say, pulling your wallet out to pay for your drink.

“It’s already paid for. Come on,” he says, already ahead of you in terms of leaving the club.

—

You stand in front of his car, wondering if it would be weird to sit in the backseat, and if he would ask you to move to the passenger’s seat. You remember an incident from when you were a couple, the one and only time you made the mistake of trying to sit in the backseat, only to be asked to move up because Levi said, ‘I’m not a cab driver or your chauffeur. Sit in the front with me.’

“Do you feel more comfortable sitting in the back?” Levi asks, watching you reach for the door handle.

“I honestly don’t care. It’s more of a tiredness issue. My feet are killing me, and I’m too tired to walk around to the other side of the car.”

“Hm, alright.”

“Would you prefer if I sat in the front seat?” You ask. “It wouldn’t kill me to take a few more steps.”

“Do whatever you want,” Levi says finally, before opening the door to the drivers seat and getting in.

You take the few extra steps and sit in the front with him, the ominous silence after you close the door unwelcoming.

“Where to?” Levi interrupts the quiet that had settled.

“Weren’t you going to take me home?”

“Right, I forgot about that. Old habits are hard to kill.” He turns the car on, his hands on the steering wheel, but he doesn’t put the gear in drive. He stares off into the distance for a good while before shutting the car off.

“What, Levi?” You ask, turning to look at him.

“Can you give me a solid reason for why we broke up? It’s been eating me alive since it happened, and I’m so confused.”

“Why would you want to know something like that months later? It’s like asking me to tell you why our relationship didn’t, and can’t work out.”

“That is exactly what i’m asking you, so please, humor me.” He turns to face you, far from disturbed by your presence. He’s all too happy to see you again.

You take a deep breath, the anxiety rushing from your feet to your chest.

“I’ll get the shocking part out of the way so that you don’t pay attention to the dumb details.” You lick your dry lips. “Levi, I never stopped loving you.”

There’s no instant reaction from Levi. He’s just going to listen right now, is what he tells himself.

“I think about you just as much as you think of me. I just don’t have the guts that you do, to call you every night when I want to. I feel stupid when I even think about calling you. And…and,” you don’t know if you should tell him that his name still gets cried out at night. “even if I miss you, I don’t think we should cycle the relationship we had before, again. Like you said on the phone, I never made time for you. I didn’t prioritize you.”

“But, you think about me, and you miss me.” His voice sounds like dripping honey.

“Yes, but every time I recall the look on your face the last time I saw you, it breaks my heart all over again.”

“You still love me.”

“Levi.” Your heart pounds like hell. After all this time, he still manages to make you feel nervous by just looking at you.

He doesn’t say anything, but his stormy grey eyes watch you with invisible desperation. The desperation comes from you looking like that—so gorgeous and stunning— and him not being able to do anything about it.

“You know the effect that look has on me. Stop.”

He doesn’t stop. Instead, he takes it a step further, and turns his body to face you, one leg bent on his seat, his hands resting on it.

“Why don’t you ever listen?” You mumble to yourself. You contemplate every decision that led you to where you are right now. You could have avoided this whole thing if you were more social and actually wanted to stay with your friends. You also could have avoided this if you hadn’t drank more than one drink, and had sobered up enough to drive yourself home. But, here you were instead, feeling like you were about to make a big mistake.

“You said you missed me,” Levi murmurs, the proximity between you both getting shorter and shorter.

“I did. I do.”

“Closer. There’s still more space,” he says, having reached the closest he can move towards you.

Your faces are inches apart, the short distance taunting you. His eyes flick up and down your features, manifesting a kiss by staring at your lips.

“We shouldn’t,” you whisper.

“We’re going to,” he says to you.

“I ruined you.”

“You ruined me,” he repeats, a hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb softly brushing the delicate skin.

The touch has your heart threatening to leap out of your chest. He’s so close that you can feel his body heat radiating against you, his cologne smelled more concentrated.

“Please,” he mouths, lips grazing yours. Once your lips lock, he tries with all the strength he has not to bite them. It’s a nostalgic feeling, if the feeling had a name.

“Mm…t-take me home,” you say, muffled by his relentless kisses.

“Fine,” he answers, roses blooming on his cheeks, noticeable beneath the yellow streetlights. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears, his chest bouncing the slightest with how hard his heart thrashes against it. He clears his throat, turns the car on, and drives you home.

—

The car ride was filled with side eyes, and unsettled truths.

Your truth: You’re dying to kiss him again, to feel his hands on you, ‘cause lord knows your hands aren’t his. Those nights when you imagined his touch on you while your own hands skimmed your body, were absolutely nothing compared to the real thing. You recognized that tonight.

His truth: No woman can fill in that role of ‘the one’ like you do. You’re enticing without trying, and it only makes him want to chase after you even more. He wants you to fill that empty space in his bed because, for the love of god, he does not sleep soundly when you’re not there.

At last, you arrived at the driveway of your house. There’s an awkward silence when Levi turns the car off, the lights of his speedometer and every other light on his dashboard dimming to darkness. You both refuse to move, making the whole situation more intense.

“I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

Levi stays quiet, thinking of how to stoically tell you that he will gladly keep you warm through the night.

“I get it if you have things to do tomorrow. I-I mean, you don’t have to stay the night, but, you’re welcome to.”

“I want to.” The last words said to you before you showed him the house you copied and pasted life in, without him.

—

You laid on your side, your body a few inches from Levi’s. He also laid on his side, facing away from you. You want to touch his warm skin, even if it’s through his shirt, and kiss the nape of his neck.

You test the water, slowly shifting closer to his warmth. Your arm dips beneath his portion of the blanket, and you sling it over his waist, your hand resting on his stomach. You can feel the tension rise in his body, his stomach erratically rising and falling as he breathes. He doesn’t react much when he feels your lips behind him, on the nape of neck—or so you think. If you could see his face, you would see that he’s not okay. It’s not until you put a leg over his that he finally starts to panic.

“Fuck, what do you want?” He falsely grumbles.

“I’m tired,” you say, full on spooning him, chest to back.

“Then go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep.”

Like a lightbulb that’s been switched on, his brain brought a certain memory into his mind.

“Mm,” he hums, keeping the information to himself. It’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s just that his idea requires you to think similarly. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Put me to sleep like how you used to.”

He stops breathing for a second, your suggestion eliciting a racing mind.

“You want me to…,” he speaks, hushed like he’s saying blasphemy.

“Please.”

He finally turns to face you, a hand on your outer thigh to keep your leg on his hip. You can see how scared he is to be intimate with you again, his hand light on the skin of your leg, but he’s trying. He wants to be able to look you in the eyes and see the enamor all over again, even if it’s a symptom of lust.

“I don’t want you to go under the blanket. I want to see your face.” You look into his grey orbs, a faint sign of adoration growing.

“I’ll do anything you want me to, just let me know.”

You fumble with the collar of his shirt, looking down at his neck, before peering down his shirt.

“Make me yours one more time.”

Levi shivers at the contact between your fingers and the side of his neck, his invitation to lean in and claim your lips. His hands slide beneath your dress, scrunching it up over your stomach to form a loose grip on your waist as he continues to appreciate your mouth. He can feel the miniature pebbles that form on your skin when his nails graze you in the slightest.

“Take it off.” You tug on his shirt, slowly pulling it out of his trousers.

“You too,” he says, lowering one of the straps of your dress down your arm. He unbuttons his shirt, the white fabric falling off his shoulders as he removes it. He watches you struggle to get ahold of your dress’s zipper, a tiny smirk pulling on his lips. He lets you struggle a little longer to buy more time to appreciate your concentrated expression.

“Turn around,” Levi finally voices.

You scurry towards him, turning your back to him and sit on your knees. He moves your hair to the side, his hand skimming every patch of skin on your upper back.

“How do you do this when you’re by yourself, hm?”

You shudder when his mouth lands on your shoulder blade, furiously blushing as he slides the zipper down.

“I don’t go out too often since we split.”

“Mmm, what a coincidence that the one time I go out, I find you dancing in the same room. I can’t believe you wore this tiny thing out.” He slides the straps down your arms, the whole article of clothing pooling above your thighs. “Were you hoping to find someone else? ‘Cause I guarantee you would have if we hadn’t run into each other. You looked very pretty, tonight.” He dips his head to kiss your shoulder, eyes searching for a reaction. “You look very pretty, tonight.”

You sigh, his hand placement fueling your need for him.

“Go lay on the pillows,” he murmurs into your ear.

You nod, moving back to the spot your were initially at. Your knees wrinkled your dress as you moved with the garment still wrapped around you. Levi pulled it down and off your body, leaving you clad in some panties and a strapless bra. He removed his trousers, and though you had barely done anything to each other, there was clearly a bulge in his boxer briefs.

He holds back a snicker when he catches you staring down there, causing you to look away, flustered. His pale skin glows in the light shed by the moonlight through your windows. He’s beautiful—gorgeous, in fact.

Suddenly, you’re both shy. He doesn’t know if he should take his boxer briefs off, you don’t know if you should bare yourself yet. You’re both one huge ball of nervousness combined. It’s neither his nor your first time seeing the other naked, and yet you feel every ounce of anxiety at the thought of him seeing your intimate parts.

“It’s okay. I’m scared, too.” His hand rubs your shin, comfortingly.

“Get out of my head.” You avert your eyes from his, and look out the window for a second. “How did you know?” you ask.

His lip quirks upward the slightest bit. “You look just like you did the night I took your virginity.”

Your face goes hot at the memory. You remember how gentle he was, and how watchful he became for any signs of discomfort.

“Were you scared then?” Your focus finds itself on Levi, again.

“I couldn’t be, for your sake.” His hand mindlessly continues massaging your shin. “You were scared, and it wouldn’t have done you any good if I showed you that I was just as fearful.”

“Why are you admitting that you’re scared now?”

He lets out a breathy, deep chuckle.

“I think in a scenario like this, I have the right to be scared, or at least nervous. You asked me to put you to sleep in one of the most intimate ways, and as someone who has every inch of your body memorized, I’m going to oblige.” He leans forward to press a kiss to your knee. “But, like that first time, I’ll try to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” Levi’s hands run up your calves as he kisses up your legs. “You aren’t mine anymore, so I have to show you that even in this case, I will always respect your body.”

You hear your heartbeat in your ears, the sound echoing when his grey eyes flash up to look into your eyes. He’s so meticulous about the way he kisses your hips, his thumb massaging the kisses into your skin. His hands are so big on your waist as he holds you down so that he can raise himself above you, looking down into your star-filled eyes.

He looks at your hands, which lay on your stomach, and raises them before slowly lacing his fingers between yours as he lays them beside your head on the pillow. He aims for your neck this time, his tongue licking the line of your jugular vein before planting a kiss on it. He can feel the way your heart races, so erratically, a rhythm that his heart soon synchronizes with. Your skin is so smooth, now warm due to the nipping of his mouth.

Your fingertips press harder into his knuckles as he finds your sensitive spots like a metal detector finds treasure. He can’t possibly make you feel this way again. You hear one of the sexiest things you’ve ever heard, Levi’s chuckle at the sound of you gasping when he finds a particularly good spot on your neck.

“How tired are you?” he murmurs beneath your ear.

“So tired,” you answer, eyes closed as you savor the wetness of his lips on your skin. “I’m ready, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.”

“Okay.” He releases your hands and backs up a little to finish fully undressing himself. You do the same, unclasping your bra, and sliding your panties down. You can feel your face get warmer when the cold breeze makes your nipples stiffen.

“Let’s be mature about this. I’ve seen you naked, you’ve seen me naked. There’s no need to hide your body.”

You nearly choke on your spit when you see his dick, standing tall. You can’t stop looking at it, but you force yourself to when you remember that you’re just as vulnerable as he is, and he’s not staring at your cunt.

“How do you want to do this?”

“Missionary,” you blurt, faster than your thoughts.

“Alright. Lay comfortably.”

You lay down flat, your legs bent, ready for Levi to wedge himself between them.

He moves towards you again, and you actually feel like your heart might explode this time.

“Relax,” he says, consolingly. “I’ll be gentle with you.” He is once again in skin to skin proximity. His hips are hugged by your thighs, and his biceps are in your grasp. “May I?” he asks once more for your consent.

“Y-Yeah, okay,” you say, eyes glossy in admiration.

He maintains eye contact as he pushes the tip of his cock into you, searching for pain, as well as a sign of you wanting out. To his relief, you simply let out a shaky breath, and tighten the grip you have on his arms. He slows down a bit when half of his length has made it inside you, gauging your reaction to the feeling so far. Your walls welcome him, generously.

He then pushes the rest of his length into you, his body pressed right up against you. He couldn’t hold back a gasp of his own—you were as warm as he remembered, and it was heaven to his body that was deprived of you.

“Tell me to stop whenever, and I will.”

“I don’t want you to stop if you haven’t even moved yet.”

You’re such a brat, but right now is not the time for him to set your body on fire. Right now, is the time to show you that he cares so much. So much that he would pretend this isn’t part of his undying love for you. God knows he wouldn’t be able to tell you how much he cares, but he get’s an A+ in presentation.

Slow breaths are let out by both of you as he pulls his hips back, then thrusts forward as steadily as possible.

It’s truly enlightening to bask in your presence again, especially in this manner. Levi wonders how many nights you thought about him, and how often you brought men home, only to see him in them. He wonders if you ever cried over his absence, or if you ever stopped sex midway through with anyone, because you couldn’t stand the fact that he wasn’t the one screwing you.

He traces kisses onto your collarbone, then moves his lips onto your jaw, which hangs slightly open to release the sweetest noises.

“It’s okay,” he coos, his voice slightly shaky from how good your pussy feels, hugging his length so tightly. His cock throbs inside you, the slow movement of his hips only teasing for him. Just because he’s not ramming himself into you like an animal, doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel every leisurely ounce of pleasure.

You’re think he’s only there because you made yourself look helpless, but really, he’s there because you trusted him to protect you, and you want him around. You didn’t expect him to go the full mile for you, but he certainly did. He kissed you like you were the most valuable thing in the world, like kissing you was the cure to everything shitty in the universe. You indulged in the moment, cupping his face, feeling the way his jaw moved every time he opened his mouth to kiss you again.

You whimpered softly, eyebrows creasing a little when his tip prods at the spot within you that makes you weak. He watches your face, a blissful expression on it that brings a sense of nostalgia to him, and suddenly he misses you so much.

He bows his head, kissing the tops of your breasts, leaving as many red marks as he can before you realize. If there’s a problem with it, he’ll negotiate with you later.

His tongue comes out, and you feel it against your now pebbled nipple.

“Fuck—ah—can you go a little faster? J-Just a little, please.” You pant.

Levi has always been good at multitasking. He can definitely fuck you faster while swirling his tongue over your nipples. The change in pace has him moaning against your breasts. Your wet heat is debilitating as it is, even with languid thrusts, but now that you ask for more, he knows he needs a good amount of self control if he wants to avoid coming before you.

Your nails dig into his back, dragging red streaks into the pale skin as he continues to tire you out in the most pleasurable way. Your body is melting beneath his suffocating warmth, and your heels dig into his lower back, deeper and deeper every time his hips raise into you.

“Fuck—oh my god, Levi,” you cry out, your head sinking into the pillows, and your face aimed towards the ceiling.

He slows down his thrusts, and lets go of your nipple.

“Fuck, why? I was so close, so fucking close,” you whine, your eyes looking like galactic pools with how shiny they were.

“I—fuck… I almost came. I just needed to slow down for a second,” he breathes, his toes curling out of your sight.

You see the way his eyes flutter shut and decide you can’t be mad at him. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter. You’re allowed to feel good, too, Levi. Just, keep going,” you say, holding his face in your hands again, this time bringing him close to press his forehead against yours. You want to watch the pleasure take over his features, and you want to feel his hot breath fan across your face as he moans.

His pace picks up once again, and he sheathes himself in and out of you like before. His eyes bore into yours, and your noses touch like you’re about to kiss, but you don’t. Instead you breathe each other’s air and say each other’s names. It’s all so personal, down to the way he coos little things to you.

“You’ve been on my mind a lot, and—ngh— I-I know you know that,” he says in a strained voice. “Fuck you for showing up in my dreams like this.”

“Oh, Levi… Levi—hah—“ Your cunt flutters at his expletive language. It brings back good memories. “Levi, i’m gonna come!” Your thighs make a grand attempt to crush his waist as he continues to thrust. “Fuck! Please, Levi!”

“Come, sweetheart. Come for me,” he croons, touching you so much that it becomes overwhelming. His lips suck on your neck, his fingers roll your nipple between them. You swear it was the bite on your shoulder that killed you. Your back arched off the mattress a little, and your eyes rolled so far into your head that your vision was still a little blurry when you looked at Levi again. You couldn’t keep Levi’s name out of your mouth, and that caused him to teeter on the edge, too.

“O-Oh- I can’t. I fucking can’t,” he whimpers, gritting his teeth as he pulls out of you. He pumps his cock a few times, thick, white ropes of cum landing on your thighs and stomach.

The sound of heavy breathing fills the room. Levi wipes away drops of sweat that slide down his temple to his jawline, with the back of his hand. He looks at you through tired, lidded eyes. If he’s tired after this, then you must be exhausted, maybe even sleeping already.

“H-Hey.” He pats your trembling thigh.

“Mmm,” you hum, not opening your eyes.

“Don’t get up. I’ll clean you up. Give me a minute.”

You nod, lazily.

It takes Levi less than ten seconds to find your bathroom, another five seconds to find your towels. He spends five more seconds rinsing a towel to clean you up with, then spent thirty seconds staring at himself in the mirror, thinking about the events that led to him taking you in your bed. He then went back to your room, in exactly one minute.

You snored quietly, your body in the same position as when he left. Your thighs and stomach were still covered in his cum.

Levi’s nose wrinkled as he used the wet towel to wipe the white substance off of you. He doesn’t bother waking you up so that you can get dressed, instead just covers you with one of your blankets.

“You can’t leave,” you mumble, your voice already grainy from sleep.

“Seriously?” Levi asks, holding in a chuckle when you went back to sleep right after.

He goes back to the bathroom and freshens up a little, before putting his boxer briefs back on. He doesn’t know if you’ll be too pleased to find him naked in bed with you in the morning.

Levi watches your chest rise and fall for a minute or two, noticing your hand by your side. He reaches for it, half chickening out by only hooking his pinky with yours. Dealing with your confusion tomorrow morning, is tomorrow Levi’s problem. Right now, he has all he’s ever wanted.

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