#hopefully its dry tomorrow night

[bellaxgiornata]

The Devil at Your Window |1: Snowed In|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 8k

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

Series summary: In the middle of a New York City blizzard, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen accidentally lands himself on your fire escape–quite literally. When he accepts your invitation to warm up inside your apartment, you're surprised at how well the conversation flows all night with the curious and attractive masked vigilante. He's intriguing, though what you find even more intriguing is his unexpected returns to your window after that night–and his flirting. But when it seems like you're not the only one beginning to develop real feelings, he pulls back and you're left wondering two things: Why did he disappear and who really is the mysterious Devil that you've inevitably fallen for?

a/n: Just a short collection of one shots that I'll update whenever the ideas strike. It'll be told in a style like Falling for the Devil but it won't get nearly as long (unless y'all end up loving it, too). I just couldn't deny giving us all the fantasy of black suit Matt reappearing at your apartment window and all the flirting, sexual tension, feelings, and naughty things that might ensue... The installment list for this little series can be found here and feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer

Picking up the steaming mug of tea you’d just finished making from off the kitchen counter, you cradled your other hand around the warmth of the ceramic and drew it towards your chest as you turned and headed back towards your living room. The small spot of heat against the front of your sweatshirt caused a shiver to run down your spine as your sock-clad feet padded along the cold hardwood floor and back towards your couch. 

It was freezing inside your apartment tonight and the blustering snow storm raging outside in Hell’s Kitchen wasn't helping. Thankfully your office had already announced its closure for tomorrow before you'd finished work earlier this evening. The snow had already started to dump from the sky before you’d even left the office, falling heavy and wild as it accumulated in a cover of white that blanketed everything in the city. It would have been beautiful if you hadn’t needed to walk home afterwards in the frigid mess–especially with the way the large clumps of snowflakes pelted and battered you in the face over and over, the cold stinging at your skin. 

The city was expected to get a whopping eighteen inches of snowfall minimum over the next twenty-four hours, so you were grateful that your boss wanted as little to do with making it into work tomorrow as you did, especially because you couldn’t afford to do anything but walk to the office. The last thing you wanted to do was trudge through all of that mess and slip on a patch of ice, inevitably falling in a massive pile of snow and leaving you stuck in damp dress clothes all day. 

No, you'd rather stay dry and cozy at home enjoying a lazy day off of work.

You were just hoping the power in your apartment building remained intact throughout the fury of the winter storm. You didn’t want to think about losing the heat in your building in the middle of all of this. Another shiver ran through you as you pushed the thought away–hopefully not something you’d need to worry about tonight. 

But since you didn’t have work first thing in the morning, you had every intention of enjoying your night. You’d immediately come home and thrown off your dress clothes before settling on something comfortable–soft sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt sans bra underneath. Then you’d made dinner and cleaned it up fast before claiming your ‘spot’ for the evening on your couch. Which consisted of both of your blankets and the television remote while you binged a guilty pleasure show that you hadn’t had time to catch up on for the past few weeks. Tonight you were intending to stay up a bit late, cozy up beneath your blankets, drink some hot tea, and lose yourself in the plot and romance of the show before eventually dragging your tired ass to bed in the hopes of sleeping in tomorrow to make up for staying up late. 

Eyes focused on the paused television screen as you moved, you rounded the side of your couch while drawing your steaming mug up to your lips. You sipped at the warm liquid, reveling in it for a moment before you swallowed it down. You could feel it heat you from the inside out as a pleasant sensation washed over you. Your eyes closed briefly for a moment–it was the first time you’d actually felt warm today. 

Opening your eyes, you continued towards the couch and began to lower yourself down onto the cushions while trying not to spill any of your tea from the mug. Just as you were about to sit back down on the couch and cocoon yourself in both of your blankets, ready to settle in for more of your show, something outside the window to your right caught your attention. Your head spun in the direction just as a flash of black dashed past the window and a loud bang reverberated through your apartment. 

A frightened yelp slipped out of you at the sound and you clutched your mug tight to your chest, your heart thudding heavily in terror. Whatever had just literally dropped onto your fire escape had been large, especially with the sound of that impact. Sucking in a breath, you held it as you stared transfixed at the window, almost ridiculously terrified it would be some sort of wild animal–like a bear or a wolf–on your fire escape. 

Though, more realistically considering you were in New York City, you knew it was probably a burglar. Who else would be traversing fire escapes late at night? Especially dressed in all dark clothes? Except…that also seemed a little ridiculous, too. There was a literal blizzard happening outside, meaning everyone would be home. In their apartments. Making it impossible for a burglar to break into anyone’s place unseen. Plus, it was insane outside, what criminal would risk dealing with that right now?

So what the hell had just fallen onto your fire escape?

Another thought struck you soon after and your lips parted in shock at the idea as you blew out the breath you’d been holding. With trembling hands, you very slowly reached out, carefully placing your mug of tea onto the coffee table before you without taking your eyes off of your window. Gradually, almost nervously, you rose to your feet before taking hesitant step after hesitant step forward. Another sharp, surprised gasp flew out of you when you saw the dark figure sit upright on your fire escape, bent in half as if they were in pain. Which made sense, considering the fall they’d just taken.

But your body froze up instantly at the sight of the man dressed in all black bent in half and dusted in white patches of snow. He wasn’t a burglar at all. With the black cloth tied over his head and the form fitting shirt he was wearing, there was absolutely no mistaking who he was. You'd certainly seen enough images of him plastered across the media. 

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had just fallen onto your fire escape.

Eyes widening in shock at the infamous vigilante attempting to pull himself up to his feet, one of his gloved hands holding onto the metal railing of your fire escape, you were suddenly overcome with the urge to check on him. To make sure he wasn’t seriously injured from that fall. 

Without thinking your actions through, you crossed the last few steps to the window and unlatched the locks before pushing it up. The masked figure immediately spun towards you at the sound as a bitter gust of wind burst its way into your apartment, chilling you instantly while those thick snowflakes once again assailed your face. For a moment you locked eyes with him–or at least, it seemed like you did despite the fabric covering half of his face–as your mouth hung open. You suddenly found yourself at a loss of what to say in the moment. And considering the way his lips thinned out along his face and the way he remained silent, he clearly wasn’t going to strike up a conversation with you, either.

Eyes darting down, you saw he had one gloved hand clutching at his right side as if it hurt him. His shoulders were hunched in on himself as his back faced the violent winds blowing snow relentlessly. Seeing him in person for the first time ever–something you’d never expected in your life considering how elusive the media made him out to be–you realized just how thin and unprotective his clothes really were. Especially tonight considering the cold weather. He had to be freezing.

An icy wind whistled loudly, another flurry of heavy snowflakes pelting you right in the face and breaking you from your thoughts. Blinking the snow from your lashes, you finally found your voice. 

“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, unsure how one should approach the masked man. “I just–just saw you fall. It looked like it hurt.”

He gave a curt shake of his head, wincing before he turned more towards the railing. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he replied.

Something warm flooded your veins at the gravelly tone of his voice. It suited him somehow, even if it sounded fake. Like he was pitching his voice lower to sound like someone else in order to hide his identity. Not that you'd probably have recognized him anyway. 

With his back partially to you now, especially this close when there was barely a few feet of space between the pair of you, you could see just how incredibly muscular this man was. His black shirt clung to him like a second skin, the toned abdominal muscles on his upper body clearly visible even from just his profile. Even the pectoral muscles of his chest were well defined and visible beneath the sheen of black. His arms were thick–far too big for just one of your hands to wrap around. And as your gaze lingered lower, you fought back the thoughts that entered your mind at the sight of how large his thighs were in those tight pants–and how pleasant a profile his ass also had. You wondered briefly if he'd gained all that from working out or if it had more to do with his nightly activities.

Though when you saw him grab onto the metal railing of your fire escape with both of his gloved hands, the movement drawing your attention away from observing him as he attempted to swing himself over it, you nearly screamed as you lurched forward. You lived on the fifth floor, was this man really about to fling himself off of the fire escape from all the way up here? 

But the scream died in your throat the moment he cried out in pain, his feet slipping from off of the railing as he fell back onto your fire escape. He let out a hiss of pain as he clutched at his clearly injured side.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out, shoving the window open wider despite the cold and snow and leaning further forward. “You’re clearly not okay. Do you need something? An ambulance or something? Is there someone I can call? Or–or something I can do to help?”

The man rolled off his injured side and onto his back, gradually turning towards you as he lay on the fire escape. You hadn’t expected the amused and pained chuckle he emitted while the snow accumulated on the entire front of him, lightly covering the thin layer of his black shirt. Which you’d noticed had ridden up, revealing a small sliver of skin just above the dark, form fitting pants he was wearing. You tried hard to not keep glancing back at that patch of skin as it slowly rose higher and higher, unsure why you were so distracted by it.

The sound of his amusement soon drew you back to the moment and you cringed. Why the hell was he laughing?

“Are you alright? Did you…hit your head?” you asked him cautiously. “Maybe you have a concussion…”

Another amused sound slipped out of him, but that was quickly followed by a pained groan as he tried to once again rise up onto his feet. “I don’t have a concussion,” he assured you.

“You sure?” you asked, an eyebrow arching onto your forehead as you crossed your arms over your chest to stay warm when you began to shiver from the cold. “Because this doesn’t seem like a funny situation to me.”

“Well,” he grunted out, wincing as he drew back up to his full height, “normally I’m the one offering assistance, not the other way around. So yeah,” he continued with a faint shrug, your eyes once again catching the way he was holding his side, “it’s kind of amusing. In an…irritating sort of way.”

Your heart sank to your stomach at his words. “Oh, sorry,” you muttered, heat rushing up to your face instantly. “I didn’t mean to be annoying. I was just concerned–”

He took a half step forward, cutting you off as he waved a hand between the pair of you. He shook his head, letting out a slight huff of laughter. “No, I didn’t mean you were irritating. Just…this situation. The–the snow and the falling part.” In a quieter voice he added, “And having an audience for it.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you stood there studying him for a moment. He was injured and wearing barely anything at all in the middle of a blizzard. He looked like he needed help even if he seemed like the type not to ask for it.

“Do you want to come inside?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. “I mean, to get warm and maybe sit down for a moment? I could call an ambulance or–or a taxi or something to bring you to a hospital.”

Another amused huff of laughter slipped out of him as he shook his head. “No hospitals, please. I’ll be alright. But…if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind a moment to warm up.” His gloved hand lowered, pinching a bit of fabric from his shirt as he glanced down at it. “Admittedly this doesn’t offer much protection from the elements.”

You eyed the thin material between his gloves doubtfully. “Doesn’t look like it offers much protection from anything,” you told him.

A surprised bark of laughter peeled out of him, the sound drawing a smile onto your face. You’d made the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen laugh. Now that was something you weren’t going to forget anytime soon. He didn’t seem like the type to break character easily.

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” he agreed, his laughter subsiding.

Taking a step back from the window, you waved a hand towards him, gesturing for him to come inside. “How about you come in so I can close this window and we both can stop freezing?” you suggested, surprised at how bold you sounded considering who it was you were speaking with. “I’m shivering already so I can only imagine how cold you must be.”

You watched as his lips curled up into a charming grin at the corners, just beneath the black fabric of his mask. It was impossible to deny that he had a handsome face–at least, from what you could see of it. You imagined the rest of it to be just as attractive beneath that cloth and a sudden intense curiosity to know what the rest of it looked like overtook you as you watched him carefully climb through your opened window. He moved slowly, wincing in pain as he made his way inside. Despite his tough act, that fall must’ve really hurt his side and you frowned, wishing he’d accept your offer to help. There was no way he was as fine as he claimed to be, surely he needed medical attention.

“Takes a special kind of person to just invite me into their home so readily,” the Devil’s rough tone came out as he turned his back to you, shutting the window after himself. “Normally people prefer to avoid me.”

“You’re not dangerous,” you replied almost instantly.

The window closed with a sharp clack before his masked face turned over his snow-dusted shoulder, his attention fixed on you. “Oh?” he asked curiously, a smirk growing over his lips. “I’m not?”

Your eyes were drawn to his mouth, though it wasn’t like there was anywhere else to look when you spoke to him with that mask covering most of his face. The smirk appeared teasing, and for some reason that had the hair on the back of your neck bristling. You suddenly became very aware of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra beneath your loose sweatshirt and it was now cold in your apartment. Quickly your arms wrapped over your chest, hugging yourself tight. His lips almost seemed to curl ever higher in response.

“I mean, you are ,” you amended, “but to, you know, criminals.” 

You swallowed hard when he remained still, gazing at you over his shoulder wordlessly.There was something almost predatory in the way he was studying you. It was easy to see how this lone man terrified the criminals on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, striking fear into them. He certainly had a presence. Goosebumps rippled beneath the sleeves of your sweatshirt at his continued silent stare.

“Right?” you asked tentatively, voice softer.

His smirk vanished as the other corner of his mouth curled upwards into what felt like a warm smile despite you being unable to see if it reached his eyes. He nodded gently, turning slowly back towards you as he did. 

“That's correct,” he agreed, brushing the snow from his broad shoulders. “I’m only dangerous to criminals. So unless you’re hiding any dead bodies or have some outstanding charges…?”

You laughed, though abruptly you snatched your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to quiet the noise instantly. He was witty and funny. You weren’t anticipating that. Or the way your reaction to his quips seemed to please him, like he was trying to charm you. Which seemed even more curious, considering who he was and what he spent his nights doing. 

“Can't say that I do,” you said. “I'm probably the most boring person in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Well now,” he replied teasingly, “don't sell yourself short. I'm sure you're not taking that title  all by yourself.” 

That charming smile was back on his face and it had your stomach fluttering. Tearing your eyes away from him, you noticed the television was still paused on your show. Paused on a scene where the two actors on screen were clearly about to kiss. Cheeks burning, you hurried over and grabbed the remote from the couch and turned it off. 

“You can make yourself comfortable if you want,” you told him, trying to keep the embarrassment out of your tone. “I've got a couple of blankets you can use to help warm you up.”

His heavy boots thudded with each of his steps as he crossed the room and made his way to the couch. You bent over, grabbing both blankets from your place on the couch where you'd previously been curled up as he passed behind you. The moment one of his cold gloves brushed against your back, you froze.

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

“No it's–it's fine,” you replied. 

He passed behind you before settling onto the opposite end of the couch from where you had clearly taken residence. You forced a smile onto your face as you turned and leaned over, holding out the blankets towards him. 

Pull yourself together , you internally chastised yourself. Just because it's been a while since you've had a man here doesn't mean you need to react to every little thing. That's not what this is, obviously. 

“Thank you,” he said, accepting the blankets from your outstretched hand. 

You nodded before sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch, keeping space between you and him. Curling your legs up under yourself, you watched as the Devil wasted no time throwing both blankets around himself, beginning to visibly shiver beneath them as he tried to warm up.

“Are you sure you don't want me to call anyone?” you asked him.

“No one to call,” he answered. “And a hospital would defeat the purpose of trying to remain anonymous.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” you muttered, glancing away and spotting the forgotten tea on your coffee table. “Would you like something to drink at least? Some water or some hot tea, maybe?”

His masked head tilted curiously to the side at your question, a grin returning to his plush lips. “Playing hostess?” he asked. 

“Well I'm sure you've got to be thirsty running around Hell’s Kitchen and fighting criminals all the time,” you explained. “I always sort of wondered if you stashed water bottles around the city or stopped for water breaks somewhere–not where you live, I imagine. Since you're trying to keep your identity hidden.” Your eyes narrowed as you added, “Or do you just let yourself get dehydrated every time you're out? Because that's not good for you, you know.”

The Devil's grin grew wider as he shifted on the couch, facing you even more from his place on the cushions. “Oh?” he asked, curiosity in his tone. “You've thought about me before, have you?”

Eyes dropping down to your lap, you smiled sheepishly as you shrugged. “I mean, I've had some theories circulating about you ever since you kept reappearing in the news,” you admitted awkwardly. “Sort of hard not to.”

“Well now you have to indulge me,” he teased. “Enlighten me on some of these theories of yours.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you continued to avoid his covered stare. “I mean, they're not that interesting…”

“Oh come on,” he tried again. “It's not like we don't have the time. And maybe I can confirm or deny some of them for you. Besides, I admit I’m curious to know what you think of me. Especially being so willing to offer help like you did.”

Chewing your bottom lip, you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes. He looked far less intimidating beneath your blush pink blanket now. What would it hurt if you told him a few of your ideas about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? Maybe he might laugh at them, but would hearing that sound again be all that bad? And it truly would be interesting to learn more about the mysterious vigilante, something you'd probably never have the opportunity to do again. 

“Okay,” you agreed with a nod. Straightening up on the couch, you turned to face him more fully. “So I've always thought with the way that you fight that you were trained by some sort of secret ninja assassin organization.”

A hearty chuckle filled your living room at your first theory. The pleasant and resonant noise left you grinning as your stomach fluttered in response. You briefly wondered how often the Devil actually laughed when he was out. 

“I cannot confirm nor deny that,” he responded. 

The playful smile that kept appearing on his face was beginning to further disarm you. You found yourself enjoying his company, soon becoming used to the way half his face was hidden from sight with that ridiculous fabric. And for some reason your unexplainable attraction to him was only growing. 

“Next theory,” he prodded, the smile on his face apparent even in his voice. 

“You're not wealthy,” you stated, leaning forward and grabbing your tea from the coffee table.

“Oh, ow,” he joked, playfully recoiling back from you on the couch. “What makes you say that?”

You waved a hand at him across from you as you settled back into the cushions, mug in hand. “Because you wear clothing that is obviously not meant to protect you very well in a fight,” you answered. “I imagine if you had money you'd have something…nicer. Meant for what you do. And,” you continued, pausing long enough to drink down some of your now barely warm tea, aware of him focused on you, “you protect Hell’s Kitchen. Only Hell’s Kitchen. This part of the city isn't exactly filled with the wealthiest people. And with how dedicated you are to everyone here, I assume it's because you probably grew up here yourself. Most likely still reside here, too.”

The Devil hummed appreciatively when you'd quieted, his masked gaze still on you. You swore you could feel it as you drank down more of your tea.

“You're observant,” he mused. “Maybe I need to watch myself around you.”

A surge of pride swelled in your chest; you hadn't expected his praise. Or the way it would make you feel. And apparently, you'd guessed something right about him. 

“You're also not married or in a serious relationship,” you blurted before you could help yourself, wondering what more you could learn about him.

“Poor and unlovable?” the Devil asked with a surprised laugh. “That's what you think of me?”

“No,” you disagreed, laughing a little with him as you shook your head. “No, but I mean, I imagine you don't have time for someone else. And I figure most people wouldn’t like their partner going out and doing what you do. Putting yourself in danger.”

“Mmm,” he hummed out, shifting on the couch and making himself more comfortable. “A partner would certainly be…a distraction. A liability. One I couldn't really afford to have. So no, you're not wrong, I don't have one.”

You glanced down at your lap, your fingers fidgeting with the mug in your hands. Half of you was hoping to hear that he wasn't with anyone–though you refused to admit to yourself why that mattered–but the other half of you had heard the way he'd said that a partner would be a distracting liability and you’d felt a sad pang hit you in the chest. Considering how much he seemed to be enjoying your company when he didn't even know you had you guessing that the Devil was a lonely man deep down. 

But that wasn't a theory you felt comfortable sharing. 

“Any others?” he asked, breaking through your thoughts.

Clearing your throat, you focused back on him across the couch from you. His smile had disappeared, his lips now downturned at the corners just a bit. His posture had changed in your silence, the same as his mood, as if he'd picked up on the subtle change in yours somehow. 

Strange.

“I imagine you're the kind of guy who's fridge is always empty,” you answered.

A ghost of a smile reappeared on his face as he huffed out an amused breath. You couldn't fight the smile returning to your own lips at the sight of his again. 

“Well hey now,” he countered lightly, “there's usually beer. Sometimes orange juice and eggs.”

You giggled, unable to stop yourself. “Who'd have guessed the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is just your average bachelor?” 

“Average?” he repeated in mock offense, his head tilting to the side. “I'm just average now?”

Quirking a brow at him in a challenging manner, your own head cocked to the side. “Maybe tell me more about yourself and I could say otherwise,” you boldly teased back. 

“Well obviously,” he began, grinning at you in a way that had your body heating, “I can't exactly do that now can I? Defeats the purpose–

“Of remaining anonymous,” you finished for him. “I've picked up on the importance of that.” 

A silence soon settled between the pair of you, one that slowly began to cause your nerves to grow with the way he kept smiling at you. Once again you desperately found yourself wanting to see the rest of his face, curious to know just how handsome he really was under that black mask. Though you settled for studying what you could see, your eyes tracing the soft curves of his pink lips, noticing the way they very minutely twitched under your scrutiny. Eventually your gaze dropped down, following the hard lines of his stubbled jaw. As your eyes trailed further down, they lingered on the part of his neck that wasn't covered by the blankets he’d wrapped around himself for warmth. A heat burned in you as the urge to reach out and just touch him, just to see if he was real, suddenly grew within you. It didn't help that it almost felt like you could feel the weight of his own eyes fixed on you beneath the mask, once again making you very aware of your lack of bra beneath your sweatshirt.

Catching your lip between your teeth, you noticed the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow. Had he been having similar thoughts? Observing you, too? 

Inhaling a sharp breath through your nose at the idea, you knew you needed to stop this line of thinking and stop it fast. There was absolutely no way the Devil would be interested in you. Certainly not like that. That was absurd.

“Would you like something to eat?” you asked, trying to calm your pulse. “If your fridge is empty all the time I'm guessing you could use something to eat.”

“I mean, I suppose if you’re–”

He stopped short the exact moment that the lights died, throwing the pair of you into almost complete darkness. You sucked in a breath, turning to look out the window just to your right. It was eerily dark outside, a sight that was rare in the city. Even the buildings across the street had been thrown into darkness. There was nothing but the howling wind and snow outside.

“Guess it was too much to hope the power wouldn’t go out in this mess,” you breathed out.

“I suppose so,” he replied, his tone just as soft.

Reaching blindly forward, you set your almost empty mug onto the coffee table before you. For a moment you reached around on the surface until your fingers brushed against your phone. You picked it up and unlocked the screen, grateful for the bit of light it shed in the dark as you turned on the flashlight function.

“So I can’t offer you a nice cooked meal without power,” you told him, rising to your feet, “but I can get you an apple and a couple of protein bars? If you’d…like?”

“You don’t have to, but I’d appreciate it,” he said.

“It’s the least I can do for the man who does so much for the rest of us,” you told him, maneuvering around the couch and navigating your way to the kitchen by the light of your phone. “I’d feel awful leaving you hungry and dehydrated.”

Wrapping one arm around your chest to try to fight the chill that had been steadily creeping into you, you headed towards a cabinet near the sink. Reaching up, you grabbed a glass from out of it before taking a moment to fill it beneath the faucet before setting it along the countertop. Then you plucked an apple out of a fruit bowl on your counter, taking a moment to rinse it off first. The moment you’d turned off the faucet you heard his voice from across the apartment.

“You’re cold.”

For a moment you found it odd how his words hadn’t come out as a question but more of an observation, though you quickly shrugged the strangeness of that aside. You set the apple down on the counter beside the glass of water before sliding a step to your right and opening up another cabinet.

“It’s alright, I’m fine,” you answered, trying to shine the light from your phone into the cabinet to read the labels on the boxes. “I wasn’t the one out in that snowstorm wearing barely anything at all.”

“You say that like I was out there naked.”

His voice had unexpectedly come from just behind you this time and it jolted your heart in your chest instantly. His sudden proximity mixed with his word choice had you startling on the spot. Your hand that had been about to pull the box of protein bars out of the cabinet accidentally bumped it instead, causing the entire box to slip off of the shelf. But before it could tumble to the floor and spill its contents, a black gloved hand darted out beside your face, catching it before it had barely fallen six inches. 

You stood there rooted to the spot, his hand just brushing your arm as his held the box of protein bars. The hair on the back of your neck had risen, aware that he was standing barely a foot behind you now. Slowly, you turned over your shoulder to look at him. Your pulse quickened further at how close his face was to yours. He was looking at you, too. Or at least, he was facing you. Eyes dropping down, you couldn’t help but notice that mouth of his again. 

“I apologize,” he said, your eyes watching as his lips moved. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Sometimes I forget how quiet I can be. I just wanted to give you one of the blankets. No sense in me using both when you’re cold.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unable to form any other response.

With his attention still on you, he reached up and slid the box back onto the shelf. Then he seemed to take a purposeful step back from you, his lips set in a straight line. You wondered what was going on in his mind right now, because you were sure there had to be something. Had he felt the tension you’d just felt? Or were you just ridiculous and overly hopeful?

And why did it even matter? You were never going to see this man again after tonight anyway.

Blinking a few times, you returned your attention to the shelf. Reaching up, you slid your hand into the box that had nearly taken a nosedive to your kitchen floor and pulled out two protein bars. Keeping your eyes actively focused away from the Devil nearby, you closed the cabinet and slid a step back to your left, grabbing the glass of water in your hand with your phone and the apple in the same hand as the bars. Though before you could turn around, you felt something gently drape over your shoulders. Looking down, you noticed it was the pink blanket he’d been wearing.

“Like I said,” he repeated, “there’s no sense in me using both.”

“Right,” you whispered, pulse pounding in your throat.

Turning on your heel, you stepped past him and made your way back to the living room by the light of your phone. This time you heard the heavy steps of him following after you. You assumed that was intentional.

“So why were you out in this blizzard tonight anyway?” you asked him, making your way around the couch. You hoped having something to talk about would distract you from whatever it was he kept stirring inside of you. “Surely there aren’t a lot of crimes being committed in this weather?”

The Devil let out a light laugh as he accepted the offered glass of water and food from you. One of your brows quirked curiously onto your forehead at his reaction as you sat back down in your original spot on the couch. Though you noticed as he took a large drink from the cup while lowering himself onto the cushions that he’d sat closer to you than before. You watched as he ripped open a protein bar and tore off a large bite next, but he didn't answer until a moment later when he’d swallowed the bite down. Internally you noted he must’ve been hungrier than he let on with the way he was devouring that bar and you’d wished you’d had more food to offer him with the power out.

“You’d be correct,” he told you. “And yet I still stupidly made my way out into this storm tonight in the hopes of catching a lead on something. Instead all I got was my ass frozen and my side bruised.” 

You watched as he took another large bite of the protein bar, chewing it almost contemplatively as his head canted to the side. You could still see him in the beam of light from your phone which you were still clutching in your hand. Somehow this lighting made him even more appealing as it cast sharp shadows along his jaw.

“Though I suppose unexpectedly meeting you was a highlight,” he added, causing your cheeks to flush. “But you know, you never did give me your name.”

“Well you never exactly gave me yours,” you immediately quipped back.

Those beautiful lips of his curved upwards yet again as he chewed the last bite of the first protein bar. What you wouldn’t give to see if that smile had reached his eyes.

“Alright, point taken,” he replied. 

Tearing your gaze away from him, you focused on your phone. If you kept the flashlight running the battery would die in no time. And who knew how long the power might be out for, you might need it later. You supposed you didn't need it on just for a conversation.

“I’m going to turn the flashlight off on my phone for now, if that's alright?” you told him, fingers darting across the screen to do just that. “Might need the battery on this later.”

“That’s alright,” he replied, sounding as if he was chewing another bite of food. “I don’t need it.”

He’d made the comment just as you’d leaned forward to set your phone back onto the coffee table, but you’d paused as the words processed in your mind. Your eyes narrowed again as your mind raced. Something about the way he’d said that sounded as if it had another meaning to it. But before you could put too much thought into it, he’d changed the topic.

“You’re still cold,” he pointed out. “That blanket alone isn't helping.”

Brows furrowing together as you slowly sat back, you wondered how he could possibly know that. The pair of you were in almost pitch black again with your phone flashlight off. It wasn't like he could see you and you hadn't been shivering, though there were definitely goosebumps dotting your skin. How could he possibly know? 

“I’m fine,” you said, pulling the blanket you had on tighter around yourself. “It’s bound to get colder here with the power out now.”

“And with how long you had your window open earlier,” he added. “The temperature is going to drop in here faster than it would have if you hadn’t helped me.”

You sighed, frowning in his general direction. “So much for being able to help you warm up,” you muttered. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he assured you.

It felt as if he was shifting on the couch nearby. Your brows knitted further together as you tried to make out what he was doing through the dark. All you could see was a faint mass of black that seemed darker than the rest of the blackness. Then moments later you felt a blanket being draped over your lap. 

“No, uh uh,” you said, shaking your head and immediately grabbing the blanket. “There’s two blankets, we can clearly share.”

“You’re freezing,” he countered. 

“And you’re not cold?” you shot back.

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve already been far kinder than I deserved this evening,” he replied.

You grabbed the blanket in your hands and stubbornly tossed it back in his general direction. An audible sigh sounded through the darkness to your left.

“You know I can just leave, right?” he told you. “Which would leave you with no reason to not use both blankets.”

Your eyes narrowed in the direction of the sound of his voice. “But then you’d be allowing more cold air into my apartment, which would only make the temperature drop faster in here,” you argued back. “Then I'd really be cold.”

He breathed out a laugh and you imagined the smile on his lips at the sound. You smiled triumphantly back at the dark shape of him because you knew you had a good point. Even though really, you could just layer on more clothes.

“Okay,” he relented. “That’s true. So how about…we share?”

The smile on your face quickly disappeared at his suggestion. Mouth dropping open, you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest. It took you a few seconds to regain the ability to respond.

“Share?” you asked.

“Body heat would certainly keep us both warmer,” he answered. “So would sharing two blankets instead of using only one.”

“Oh, uh, well,” you stammered, your mind racing at the thought of your body pressed up against his. “I–I–”

His deep laugh rumbled towards you through the darkness, the sound causing your lips to clamp shut. 

“I’m not suggesting anything immoral,” he assured you. “Simply a possible solution to the very real problem of us freezing in here. Unless, of course, you’d prefer me to leave?”

“No!” you exclaimed.

Immediately your eyes widened in horror at how quickly you’d responded to that. And judging by his chuckle, he’d also noticed, too. Your face scrunched up as you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so eager to keep him here in your apartment.

“Well in that case, we could share the blankets and our body heat,” he suggested again. “Because the temperature has definitely dropped a few degrees already and it's only going to continue if the power stays out.”

Nervously your tongue slid out, licking your lips. You were trying hard to control the racing of your heart, positive he could hear it with how hard it was beating now. Of course you weren’t going to pass up a chance to basically cuddle the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen for warmth during a snowstorm. You just needed to find a way to not sound so eager to accept his offer first.

“I suppose you…have a point there,” you said slowly, trying to keep your voice even. “That’s–that’s usually what people do in survival situations. Use their body heat to keep warm.”

An amused huff came from him and you realized he’d scooted even closer to you on the couch. Your breath caught in your throat the moment you felt his thigh bump against yours.

“So are we in agreement with sharing both blankets, then?” he asked.

“That–that appears to be the most logical solution to the problem,” you answered. “So yeah, I guess we…share the blankets.”

Despite the lack of light, the Devil seemed to move with ease and fluidity through the darkness, something you were paying close attention to as he gently sidled his way up against the side of you, managing to wrap both blankets around the pair of you. All the while you’d sat pin straight on the couch, aware that he was flush to your side from your shoulder all the way down to your knee. You clasped your hands in your lap, unsure of where else to place them. Truthfully, you had to admit you were already much warmer like this, with his body heat enveloping you beneath both blankets.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, his tone far gentler than it had been all evening. “Because that's not my intention.”

“No,” you answered with a light shake of your head. “You're not.”

He chuckled softly, his body shaking yours slightly with the movement. Your head turned towards him and you wished you could see at least the part of his face that was visible right now.

“Then why are you so tense?” he questioned. 

“I'm not tense!” you lied.

He laughed again, this time louder. The movement jostled you somehow further into his side, though your hand flew out and landed flat on his very solid chest as you tried to stop yourself from falling further into him. Your eyes widened in horror yet again, but before you could push yourself away you felt his arm wrapping around your shoulders and allowing you to sink even more into him. Heat was very much creeping up your neck and reaching your cheeks now in embarrassment. 

“You're very tense actually,” he teased. “If you're uncomfortable I can move, but we aren't going to be sharing much body heat if you don't actually sit next to me.”

Slowly you removed your hand from his chest, lowering it to your lap. Though with the way you were sitting facing partially towards him now, your knuckles were brushing against his thigh. 

“I am not tense,” you grumbled. “And you aren't making me uncomfortable. This is just…awkward. I barely know you and you don't know me.”

“Okay,” he conceded. “How about since you've guessed a few things about me, I think it's only fair you tell me a few things about yourself now.”

“I told you I'm not very interesting,” you reminded him.

“Ah, well,” he replied with a shrug, “I think I'd like to decide that for myself.”

Biting your lip, you turned your burning face and buried it into his shoulder, glad he couldn't see how nervous he'd suddenly made you. It was hard to tell if he was flirting with you or if that was just his vigilante persona–when he wasn't beating people, of course. 

With your nose pressed against the fabric of his shirt, you noticed he smelled surprisingly good. There was the hint of his sweat, but there was also a faint clean detergent scent. You closed your eyes and tried to relax, inhaling a deep breath in. Even though he was still a stranger and a vigilante, he seemed kind and safe so far. And he also hadn't thrown you off of himself for getting even closer to him, either. Maybe you should just do what he seemed to be doing: relax and enjoy the unexpected cuddles tonight with an unexpected acquaintance. 

“Alright, what do you want to know?” you whispered, eyes still closed as you focused on his scent.

Eyes fluttering open, you felt yourself waking from a deep, comfortable sleep. Though your eyes instantly snapped closed against the bright light that immediately assaulted them. Slowly you blinked them back open, trying to adjust to the surprising sunshine pouring through your living room window. Gradually you began to push yourself upright, realizing you were laying with your head on a couch pillow, both of your blankets snuggly wrapped around you. For a moment your face twisted into a look of confusion as you hesitated, staring down at the two blankets. Why had you been asleep on your couch?

But then flashes of last night came back to you. The masked man falling onto your fire escape. The joking and constant banter between the pair of you. Darkness when the power went out and the feel of his warm, muscular body wrapped around yours as he tried to keep you warm. The scent of clean detergent and his sweat. The feel of his spandex shirt against your fingertips and your cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder.

Had that all really happened? Or had you just fallen asleep on your couch and dreamt it?

Your attention shifted towards your coffee table and your sluggish brain processed the sight of your almost empty mug of tea, left abandoned all night, and an empty glass of water. Pushing yourself the rest of the way upright on the couch, your head turned over your shoulder. The lock on your living room window was undone.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen really had been in your apartment last night. Which meant the pair of you really had cuddled together for warmth when your power had gone out. And you really did meet him. At least, somewhat.

“Oh my God,” you breathed out in awe. “He was really here.”

But just as the rush of excitement at meeting someone you’d always secretly admired filled you, it quickly vanished. Because you must have fallen asleep on him sometime last night when the pair of you were talking, and then he must’ve slipped out of your apartment before the sun came up, probably when the power had come back on. Which made sense, considering he wouldn’t want to be seen sneaking back to his own apartment in such a conspicuous outfit. 

But what was upsetting you was the growing realization that it wasn’t just the first time you’d met him, but it would most likely be the last. And you’d gone and fallen asleep through part of that meeting.

Stupid stupid stupid.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #matt murdock series #matt murdock #daredevil

[bukuoshin]

Ouchie, my head. Ouchie, my head. Ouchie, my head.

#rae rants #i have a headache and heartburn and mg throat hurts cuz the ac's been on and i got bit by a mosquito and and and ( ╥ω╥ ) #i hope it doesnt rain tomorrow cuz then the mosquitoes will come out. and im drying an armchair pillow outside rn too. #i have to bring it and the trashcan in first thing then i get to work on fun stuff. #im altering a new thing~ im happy abt it~ #its easier to do than embroidery rn. theyll both be easier once the chair is back in. #tomorrow i have to paint some edges on the shirt and start on making the stencils. whichll be easier on my neck than embroidery. #not by much but by enough. #i took... some sort of night time pill. hopefully that helps with the headache and throat. im also having some throat coat tea.

[lw6-woso]

Mama y papa (wonze x reader)

(gif not mine)

being the youngest Barca player comes with it negatives and positives to say the least.

you signed up for Barca when you were just a few weeks away from turning 16 straight from the Barca academy, because you were still young and had other personal reasons the staff thought it would be best if you were lived with one of the girls. at first, the plan was for you to be placed with Alexia, however, plans changed and you were set to stay with Lucy and Keira who had also just joined Barca that season, so it was all new for the three of you with the new club and getting used to the new routine. over the first couple of months, the three of you bonded fast and had gotten into a routine fast, you helped both girls with learning Spanish, it was a slow process but they had gotten the basics down.

it was coming towards the end of your first season at Barca and the night before the champions league final and you were set to be in the starting 11 for the first time, you have obviously been subbed in for more matches than you would have thought but this was your first starting match and you were really nervous.

the three of you were sat eating some food and the girls had noticed how quiet you were but they didn't want to ask just yet.

you had finished eating and you were washing all the potts and Lucy was drying them since Keira had cooked.

"hey you okay you have been quiet tonight" Lucy said.

"yeah I'm fine," you said not looking at her.

"okay you know you can come to us" Lucy said and you nodded.

you finished the pots and went to sit on the couch next to Keira and Nala.

Keira kissed your head and you put it on her shoulder as Nala came and sat in your lap, and soon after Lucy followed sitting next to you.

we peacefully watch a movie when you whispered "I'm nervous about tomorrow"

"Hmm," Lucy said.

"I'm nervous about tomorrow I don't want to disappoint Jonaton and the girls," you said.

"oh, kid you won't you deserve this you have been such a good player I'm surprised you haven't started earlier this is your moment okay I promise you we will all be with you on that pitch" Lucy said and you nodded.

you continued to watch the movie and then once the credit scenes rolled on the screen you said good night to them both and went upstairs to bed hopefully getting a peaceful night's rest.

however, as the hours went by it was now 30 minutes after midnight and there was no sign of you getting any sleep.

you got out of bed and straight across the hall to Keira and Lucy's room and lightly knocked on the door.

there was a light, yes and you walked in to see Lucy somewhat awake and Keira fast asleep.

"what's the matter kids," Lucy asked.

"I can't sleep," you said and she patted the bed for you to come join. you joined in bed with her and she wrapped her arms around you.

"I'm sorry," you said.

"hey it's all good your allowed comfort and support" she said.

"but I'm 16 I should have to ask for comfort like a little kid" you whispered.

"16 or not doesn't matter," Lucy said.

"can i tell you somthing" you asked.

"im all ears" she said.

"ive always thought as you and Keira as my parent more than my actual once even though its been a year you have shown me more love than they ever have that why i never speak to them anymore and why i had to live with a team mate and not just my parents i asked to be placed with one of yous and I'm glad it was you two " you said and her grip on you tightened.

"i love you to" she said.

after talking for a while you fell asleep in Lucy's arms and all your nerves and feelings left your body.

#women football #woso community #woso imagine #engwnt #leah williamson #barca femini #ingrid engen #lionesses #espwnt #awfc #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #keira walsh #mary earps #georgia stanway #millie bright #keira walsh x reader #mapi león #alexia putellas segura #alexia putellas #barcelona femeni #fc barcelona #barca femeni

[aseaofyoongi]

where feelings bloom | kth

kim taehyung x reader (f)

genre: fluff | smut | bffs to lovers

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: vacations are the time of self reflections and revelations. so, what happens when your last day in paradise involves you trying to decipher the feelings that you’ve had blooming for your best friend kim taehyung.

warnings: where do i begin lol; post college universe; suppressed feelings; overthinking; crush culture; foul language; vag fingering; overstimulation; clitoral stimulation; pentrative sex; protected sex (wrap it up friends); non-idol au; praise; dirty talk; tae is focused on oc’s pleasure only; unlabeled relationships; no plans for a part two; out of season au (happy beginning of fall) ; not edited

word count: ~ 5.6 thousand words

posted: tuesday october 4, 2023

notable songs: ivy - frank ocean | are we still friends - tyler, the creator | todo cambio - camila | a drop in the ocean - ron pope

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Mornings were your favorite part of the day. Although, not many people agree with that ideology you couldn’t help but be enamored by the way day the birds chirped their peaceful melody awakening you right up from your slumber, the glare of the beaming sun highlighting its waves of heat right into your face, the song of the crashing of waves against the shore. . but most of all you loved that for the last eight nights you have been waking up in an island paradise and you got to share it with your absolute favorite person in the entire world. Your best friend, Taehyung. 

Your soulmate, well platonic soulmate; your other half; your light in the darkest of tunnels. That’s who he was and honestly you couldn’t even recall a minute or even a second in the course of your life when Taehyung hadn’t been there with you. 

You met Taehyung long ago. Twenty-one years ago to be precise—marking the very moment you came out of your mother’s womb. Your mother’s had been best friends for years (still are), so your birth marked the day when you would meet your mother and father; but it also marked the day when you met Taehyung. He was already a couple of weeks older than you but your mother’s paired you up and built a friendship among the two of you long before you ran around in diapers together, bathed in kiddie pools with your favorite toys, before you took your first steps or even uttered your very first words. 

By definition, you were meant to be in Taehyung’s life and Taehyung was meant to be in yours. There was no re-writing that bit of history and besides you’d never do it even if you could. The constellations of your stars align and are guided right into each other’s path. 

Truly. He is going to be your person today, tomorrow and hopefully an eternity after that. You’ll always be there for him even after the sun dims and the oceans dry. There is no one you’d rather call your best friend and no one else who you would rather have invading every inch of your life. 

The door to the connecting room swung open and surely enough there he was leaning against the door frame. The blonde streaks of his wet hair fell past his dark brown eyes and thick eyebrows covering their entirety. On the same note you finally registered that he only wore a pair of gray sweat shorts that hung low on his hips; all while he remained bare on the top half of his body showing off his lean physique and although Taehyung didn’t have abs he was still fit—very awe striking. 

“Whatever happened to ceasing the day?” he exclaimed, his eyes turned to fiery pits as he likely replayed whatever crazy scenario he had planned for the day back in his head, “it’s nine in the morning. What are you still doing in bed. .  Why are you still in your pajamas?” 

“I was too lazy to get up,” you looked at the digital clock on the night stand beside you blinking its bright red numbers back at your sleep-riddled eyes. 

“Tonight is our last night on this slice of paradise heaven so get your ass up and let’s go let’s go let’s go,” he snapped his fingers before ripping the covers off of your body. 

“We have over twenty-four hours before we gotta head back home,” you patted the empty spot on the bed next to you and he jumped right in, cozying up under the covers, “just let me lay here for like ten more more. Is that okay with you, mom?” 

He groaned, “Fine but we better be up in ten minutes or I plan to carry you right down to the beach, pajamas and all.” 

“Yeah, sure,” you pulled the white duvet over your head signaling you were ready to drift back into the remnant of tiredness that lingered behind from all the activities you had partook in for the past week, “just ten more minutes. Just ten,” you mumbled, your eyes felt heavy as you drifted back into a deep slumber. 

“Just ten,” you heard his voice from a distance, so far away. Yet his body heat lingered close by and the apricity was easily welcomed against the skin of your back. 

Ten minutes turned into four hours and by the time your eyes fluttered open it was just after four in the afternoon. The sun still beamed bright through the drawn blinds heating up your body as the rays met your skin. You stretched carefully and rubbed sleep off your eyes before turning around to face Taehyung. He remained sound asleep—eyes shut tightly, mouth slightly ajar, and soft snores sounding like the steady, peaceful melody of lullabies.

Taehyung is truly beautiful. So beautiful, in-fact that it kind of made you stop in your tracks every so often and you couldn’t help but just look at him. Drinking in his striking features; his big brown eyes, his hair soft like silk, and his raucous voice so deep and soothing. 

Taehyung is truly a work of art. So much so that every candid moment captured behind the pixels of his pictures belonged in art galleries around the world. 

You noticed you were attracted to your best friend the summer after your sophomore year of high school. The two of you had spent the entire summer together—inseparable as usual. But towards the end of the summer as the first day of school approached, you and Taehyung engaged in a short adventure to the lake on the outskirts of town. You’d had truly an amazing time and you ended up inside a small diner having greasy food and chocolate shakes. You hadn’t processed it back then but looking back now you remember the way your heart was pounding, the way your palms were sweaty and the way all of your butterflies flapped their wings against the pit of your stomach. 

It’s so obvious looking back now—how much you truly liked him while you sat in that booth in the back of that diner. There, it felt like no one else inhabited the establishment. Just the two of you and the secret that took root in your heart. 

A secret so taboo you buried it somewhere deep in the back of your mind, but every time your eyes caught a glimpse of him there it all was. Everything, all over again, causing a daze in your mind and making your chest ache. 

“Wake up, Tae Tae,” you shook him slightly, pushing all of those thoughts aside. 

“Huh?” he groaned, twisting and turning mindlessly in the ocean of sheets. 

“We have gone against your beloved schedule for the day and I’m afraid I was the culprit,” you sat up against the headboard and he followed along laying his head on your shoulder. 

“We didn’t just sleep for ten minutes did we?” 

You shook my head, “it’s around four o’clock right now.” 

“That chopped off half of my itinerary,” his voice was soothing—gruff with hints of exhaustion lingering behind. 

“Oh, come one,” you cooed, “what’s left?” 

“The beach is just across the street, the pool’s downstairs or we can go out to get something to eat.” 

“What do you really wanna do?” you asked. 

He yawned widely mimicking a cub; so cute.

“Maybe we can lounge around by the pool for a bit and come back up here to order food,” he suggests, “I know I had hours planned of things to do for the day but I’m kind of exhausted.” 

“It’s not like you to skip out on the beach. . are you sure you wanna just go to the pool?” 

“Actually. .” he continued in his smooth voice, “I don’t even think I have the energy for that.” 

“Impossible!” you exclaimed, “you don’t get to be lazy, that’s my thing.” 

“It’s contagious,” Taehyung whined, snuggling closer to your side.  His cheeks felt like fire on your shoulder and you swore having him that close caused your breath to hitch at your throat. 

“So what—what, uh,” you cleared your throat, “what do you wanna do instead? Do we stay in for our last day here?” 

He nodded, “I think so. I mean, we’ve done a lot of things for the past few days.” 

“Do you wanna pick the movie or the food for us tonight?” 

“I refuse to watch a horror movie tonight so I’m in charge of picking the movie,” he reached for the remote control on the table next to his side of the bed. 

You rolled your eyes, picking up the phone and looking through the booklet the hotel provided with a number of different restaurant chains and their menus. After a bit of back and forth between you and Tae as you tried to settle on things, you decided on pizza and a random rom-com on one of the dozen streaming apps provided on the television. 

Fifteen minutes later, the food had arrived and Taehyung sat beside you once again, your elbows dangerously close. Your mind, barely on the movie that’s been playing for approximately thirty minutes now, your pizza sat cold on your plastic plate and your thoughts assimilate a busy intersection. 

There are so many things you could do but every single one also sat dangerously close to being the end of your friendship with Kim Taehyung. 

“Are you okay?” Taehyung closed the pizza box sitting in front of his crossed legs. 

You reeled yourself back from your thoughts, “yeah, I’m okay.” 

“You’ve been mindlessly staring at your slice of pizza for the past thirty minutes,” he added, placing his hand on your shoulder, “are you sure you’re okay?” 

This is how it’s been for some time now. Taehyung remained as soon as ever engaging in the sweetest gestures of comfort a best friend could engage in while your stupid, stupid mind developed its own reality of translating his platonic touches into something more—something it’ll never be. 

“I’m okay really. I guess I’m just uh, not that hungry,” you forced a smile on your lips, it actually hurt, “I’m gonna get some fresh air.” 

You opened the glass sliding door and walked out onto the balcony, the briny aroma from cerulean waves just ahead became your aromatherapy—easing your nerves. Allowing you to bury every insipid thought you’d birthed as a cause of your delusions. 

Your stupid mind and its delusions. 

Your hands landed on the black metal railing, closing your eyes and you began softly inhaling through your nose and then out your mouth. You did that over and over until you imagined yourself alone, somewhere peaceful where Taehyung was a long way from invading your thoughts in the best and worst way possible. 

“I know being here for so long has made us both homesick but I didn’t think you’d be the one most affected by all of this,” his voice sounded dangerously close. God, all you wanted was a moment alone—a moment to yourself. . To halt all your thoughts. All of them. 

“Yeah, I guess I’ve been pretty homesick,” but you weren’t homesick at all. 

“Don’t worry, tomorrow we’ll set foot back home and you’ll be back on your bed relaxing,” you hadn’t looked at him just yet but you could tell he was smiling. 

“Yeah, I suppose that’s all I’ve wanted.” 

“I knew it,” his hand landed on yours on top of the railing, his thumb rubbed circles on your wrist, “I know you, you know. You’re like the only person on earth who can’t seem to enjoy a vacation.” 

He was wrong—you have enjoyed this vacation; his company. It’s only solidified everything you’ve ever felt for him and that was the problem. But how could you say that without actually saying that? 

You chuckled, “I have enjoyed this vacation. It’s been quite reflective. . Eye opening.” 

“Hopefully, the fun kind of eye opening,” he began, “you need to learn to have fun. Let loose.” 

“Your party ways have definitely been contagious,” you looked into his eyes, the way you never have before and for a minute you became lost in their darkness—but surprisingly, you were at ease, “I’ve definitely learned all the ropes to having fun.” 

“After years of trying I’m glad you’ve finally learned something from your best friend. I’m proud,” Taehyung walked towards one of the lounge chairs and sat. 

“Yeah, I guess I’ve learned everything from you these past couple days,” you mumbled. 

“See? You could’ve just skipped college just as I did.” 

“That,” you sat on the chair beside his, “my parents would’ve killed me for.” 

He scoffed, “that’s another thing I gotta teach you now that we’re twenty-one. Bravery is crucial. Learn to speak your mind unapologetically.” 

Easier said than fucking done when your mind, heart and body scream out for him. His attention, his touch and his love. 

“Bravery.” 

“Exactly,” he encouraged, “bravery is a passage so securing everything you want in life. Hold on to that; embrace it. Thread towards everything head on.” 

“Well, in that case I hated college. I really really did. And I don’t even fucking like science I don’t know why I majored in Biology. I miss high school and the days we used to chill on the rooftop of the abandoned bowling alley after school when we had nothing better to do.” 

He laughed, likely reminiscing on the good time, “I miss that too and nobody said we had to stop. We’re adults but our customs shouldn’t have to die, right?” 

“Right.” 

“So, we have a date on top of the abandoned bowling alley as soon as we get back.” 

“A date,” you mumbled, the word causing your skin to prickle up with goosebumps. 

“A date. That’s right.” 

Surely, Taehyung didn’t know the effect. . The implication that the word had on you and your emotions. He couldn’t know about the way your hands began to sweat and the way your heart beat erratically as he kept referring to your late afternoon escapes in that exact way. A date. 

“A date with you,” you began, your tongue did all the work while your mind ceased all control, “you don’t even know what those words do to me.” 

His voice was low, “what does it do to you?” 

Your eyes steered in his direction and Taehyung was still sitting right beside you, but closer. His eyebrows were furrowed together inquisitively, his intent gaze was set on your figure disregarding all of his surroundings entirely—as if he didn’t want to overlook a single detail about you ever again. 

You shook your head feeling like maybe you’d said a little too much already, “just. . Forget it.” 

“Impossible,” he said, “bravery, remember? Penny for your thoughts.” 

“Trust me, Tae. You don’t wanna know.”

“I do.” 

You exhaled softly, “please don’t make me say it.” 

“Say it,” his voice grew deeper and still it felt as softest as velvet would against your skin. 

You closed your eyes trying to unscramble the words in your mind, to unravel your mangled feelings and decipher exactly how much of yourself you wanted to strip bare in front of him. 

“I—“ it was so hard to let it out. To just say it. 

“You?” 

“Taehyung,” you breathed, “I just have these feelings I just can’t seem to ever shake off.” 

“Are they good feelings or bad feelings?” he asked. 

“I’m not too sure,” you shrugged looking off into the clear sky dusted off in orange tones as the sun began migrating down towards the horizon, “—but they’re definitely confusing feelings if I had to say for sure.” 

“Confusing?” 

“Confusing,” well not so much confusing but rather—hard to decipher, impossible to act on, forbidden, off limits, what else? 

It’s you.  

“Come on,” he scoffed, “I’m your best friend. Surely, you can tell me what’s gotten into your head.” 

But that’s the problem. . You’re my best friend and you’ll only ever be my best friend. It’s both the twist between a blessing and a curse. 

It’s you. It’s you. It’s you. 

You’ve gotten into my head. 

It’s you. It’s you. It’s you. 

It’s you. It’s you. It’s you. 

The voice kept on and on no matter how hard you worked to block it out. It was a reminder that he navigated your thoughts and made you giddy in love, one you didn’t need or want. It’s you. It’s you. It’s you, “it’s you.” 

“What?” He asked. Did you say something? You hadn’t said anything. You hadn’t. 

“What?” you repeated. 

“You said it’s me. .” His stare was blank; hard to read but his eyes were golden under the rays of the departing sun. 

You stared back at him without saying a single word. 

“You said it was me,” he stuttered, “You you said. . What do you mean, it’s me?” 

In that moment you stood before a crossroad unbeknownst to the righteous path to take. Jungling the implications of your two options and how they would affect your relationship with Taehyung from that day. Of course, on one side you had the lie, your very own cloak of invisibility. The same one you’d been hiding behind for years and the same one you’d continue to hide behind—down that road your feelings would be stomped on and you’d watch Taehyung behind a soundproof glass always dwelling on what ifs and what could’ve beens. 

On the other side, there was the truth, the road where you would be stripping yourself bare with every step forward you took. Taehyung would finally be aware of your deepest secret—the one where he occupied your thoughts from the earliest hours of the morning to the latest hours of the night. He would know that your mind often lingered off into vivid daydreams where your imagination ran wild creating scenarios where he was finally yours; he would know the way your balms grew balmy and your heartbeat every time he came near. There would be no more hiding, but here you ran the risk of rejection and the destruction of your friendship. 

So you stood in front of the two avenues unsure of which direction to head towards in order to begin your journey. But Taehyung waited for an answer while you made a safe haven at your pit stop cocooned by fear and indecisiveness. 

The late afternoon breeze rustled the palm tree fronds, swaying them back and forth lightly. You and Taehyung were twenty stories up so that swishing sound was the only thing filling the silence between the two of you. Still, you swallowed your words hoping that he would somehow forget that you said anything. 

“Hey!” he rested his warm hand on your thigh calling out for your attention and finally you looked at him. There was no longer a blank gaze lingering in his eyes, now, he seemed worried, “did I do something?” 

Oh, this is spiraling out of control so fast. All because you couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut. 

Say something. . ANYTHING! 

“No—“ you cleared your throat, “no it’s not that at all, trust me.” 

“Then, what is it?” 

“It’s not important.” 

He shook his head, “whatever it is, it seems to be bothering you a lot so it is important.” 

There was no getting out of this. Not anymore. 

“I guess I just don’t know how to say it,” you jumped over a million hurdles in your mind trying to decipher the best way to just say it. Finally, you took a deep breath allowing your lips to move at their own leisure, “I like you.” 

You were so dizzy and enveloped within your own scrambled thoughts. Even though you tried to keep your eyes off of him you couldn’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eyes.  And Taehyung just sat there with wide eyes and his mouth slightly parted. 

“You like me?” he asked, pausing in-between each word, “like you like me or you like like me?” 

You closed your eyes, “I like like you.” 

“Like more than just best friends?” 

Did you really have to spell it out? Admitting your feelings out loud had you in a state of intense bashfulness, “yes, Taehyung. I like you as more than just a best friend. I have for some time now but it’s okay if you don’t think of me that way. I didn’t even really want to tell you because I was always too scared to ruin our friendship.” 

“Come over here,” Taehyung patted the spot right beside him and you moved to sit next to him. He stared deep into your eyes before continuing, “nothing can ever come in between us or our friendship, okay?” 

“Okay. .” You felt like a massive weight had been lifted off your chest allowing you to inhale and exhale once again. 

“Beside,�� Taehyung caressed your cheek softly using the pads of his tender fingers. Quickly, you began feeling at ease as a result of his touch. Then, his fingers migrated lower tracing the outline of your round cheeks until they reached your chin and slowly he began guiding your face towards his so much so that his lips sat just inches away from yours, “I never said I didn’t feel the same way.” 

“You can’t just say things like that,” you placed your hands over his as they still held you close. 

“I’m not just saying it,” he argued. 

“You are,” you shook your head, “you’re just saying it to spare my feelings but I’ll be okay, Tarhyung. I’m a big girl. I can take a little rejection.” 

“We’ve been friends long enough for you to know that I wouldn’t just say something like that.” 

That was true, “but why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Same as you, I suppose,” he shrugged as his eyes remained intently on yours, “I feared that you wouldn’t feel the same and I didn’t want that to drive you away.” 

It’s astonishing how the only thing standing between the two of you and your happiness—and love was yourselves. Doubt and the fear of rejection steered your lives in opposite directions although the gravitational forces stringing your hearts together worked diligently to drive the two of you towards each other despite your cowardice. 

“I wouldn’t leave you.” 

Taehyung flashed his signature boxy smile, so warm and comforting you felt like he wrapped around you in a warm hug. 

“I wouldn’t leave you either,” his eyes focused on your mouth tracing every line and crevice before he met your eyes once again. 

The lingering doubt gnawed at your already splintered confidence so despite your treasurous thoughts screamed that he wanted to kiss you in that very moment, your body remained frozen in place—incapable of emitting an appropriate response, too nervous to react in any way and way too scared to make the wrong move. 

“Can—” he looked at your lips once again, “can I confess something else?” 

“What?” he leaned closer, your nose brushed against his and you couldn’t help closing your eyes. You were feeling too much at once. 

“I really want to kiss you right now.” 

“So kiss me,” you whispered. 

Taehyung laid back on the chair before pulling you onto his lap as your legs straddled his lap. His hands traveled mindlessly along your body until they finally found their destination on your neck—his method of saying you were simply too far because immediately he began pushing you towards him. Your heart was erratic, your hands were sweating and there were about a million scenarios playing in your head depicting every single way you could probably fuck this up. 

But all of that flew right out of your head as soon as your lips met his. Kissing you so passionately you felt grounded, as if he was your home and this is exactly where you were meant to be; where you belonged. 

Noone had kissed you like that before and you liked how his kisses were the words on endless pages of his love confession while his tongue sealed the envelope before sending you off into daydreams depicting scenes such as this one and so much more. 

Taehyung pulled away; heaving; attempting to catch his breath, “I think—I think we should move inside. It’s getting late.” 

Before you knew it your back crashed against the ocean of bed sheets and Taehyung followed right behind picking up where he left off. While his kisses worked to leave you breathless, his hand raked down the fabric of your top before stopping at the waistband of your sweat shorts. 

“Can I?” 

You nodded frantically anticipating all of the lustrous desires that had sparked up in your mind in the latest hours of the night, “yes.” 

Taehyung moved past the waistband and lower down where only the thin layer of your panties stood between his fingers and your cunt but he did not touch you—not yet, you shuddered in anticipation, wondering how he’d render his concupiscent touch. You grew stupefied and your thoughts came to a halt as his teeth tucked at your lower lip, sweeping into your mouth. Everything he did worked to satiate the hunger growing within you, the very one crying out for him to devour you entirely once and for all. 

He pulled away from your lips you felt his hands move under the fabric of your shorts, moving your panties to the side lining up two fingers at your entrance, you gasped once before Taehyung slated his mouth over yours swallowing every whimper and every moan to escape your lips as he pumped into you slowly. 

It was a vicious repetition that already had you soaked, you uttered low whimpers but it seems he was only fueled by your sensitivity moving quicker and quicker by the second. 

He parted away from your lips, whispering in your ear, “you're so wet and warm baby. Fuck, you feel so good, so tight around my fingers. So fucking good.”  

“Ah, fuck. Oh, Taehyung please, please don’t stop. Okay? Don’t stop,” you whimpered as you moved to meet his quicken movements fucking yourself on his fingers so sweetly. 

“I won’t stop. I promise you I won’t,” his voice was hoarse as he continued, the lewd promises he whispered sent glacial shivers down your spine and you felt the way your legs began shaving. 

“Taehyung,” you moaned. 

“Say my name like that again,” he groaned. 

You snaked your hand around your neck twisting the blonde locs draped on the back of his neck before whispering his name once again he smirked going on and on. There was a flame igniting in the pit of your stomach and there was nothing more potent; nothing you could devote your attention to. The only thing you crave was to put that fire out. So you moved quicker against him until your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you reached that high and finally the fire ceased. 

Taehyung left a peck on your cheek before aiding you in removing all of the pesky fabrics standing between him and the vulnerability of your nude body, then, he took off his own leaving only his briefs on. He kneeled in front of your stretched out legs and his finger burned streaks on your skin as they caressed your inner thigh, continuing to devote his attention everywhere but where you actually needed him most. 

“Please. .” you begged. 

“Please?”

“Please,” you said sternly. 

“What do you want?” he questioned with a smug look painted on his features, the little bitch was teasing you. 

“You know what I want.” 

“I want to hear you say it,” you gasped as he grazed your enterance coating his digits in the combination of your juices and cum before shoving them in his mouth, licking them clean, “you taste so good, you know.” 

“Eat me out Taehyung, please,” you cried out. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

He sunk deeper in his place until his face was no longer in your line of vision, beads of sweat rolled down your temples and you ached with fervidity. His breath fanned against your core and at that moment you knew he was near but it wasn’t until he wrapped his hands around your thighs pulling you closer to his face that you truly felt exposed. Taehyung brushed his lips over your slit leaving a trail of gentle kisses behind. 

Using his tongue he separated his lips before gravitating towards your clit. He enveloped the sensitive bud between his lips quickly beginning his attack in the form of ravenous sucks and licks.  

You gasped clutching onto the sheets to release the tension building within you. Everything you wanted to say out loud died in the back of your throat but you didn’t care about the words you couldn’t say. Your mind was too focused on the way your legs shuddered and your pelvis lifted into the air. 

“I’m—“ you cried out, “I’m so so close.” 

His fingers found themselves pushing past your entrance once again, pumping into you at a quickened pace. It was almost too much but you focused on the overstimulation of his tongue and touch. That inferno you felt once before burned brightly, this time you couldn’t map out a way to extinguish in its entirety. It would always burn and Kim Taehyung would always be the cause of it. 

Whoever said playing with fire was a bad thing was a fucking liar because these flames warmed you up so good like an addiction you just would not want to ever shake off. 

You reached down, raking your fingers through his blonde strands pushing him closer to you, doing so until trembled uncontrollably, spilling over on his fingers. 

Taehyung emerged with swollen lips, his disheveled hair and his spit mixed with your juices on his chin. His fucked-out look was one that would live in your mind like an art work hung in a gallery. 

“Unbeknownst to you, I’ve been yours for a while now,” he stopped to catch his breath, “but after tonight I want you to know that I am yours.” 

Your eyes remained shut but you grinned nevertheless, “I believe that’s the post sex bliss talking.” 

“I’m not the type to just say anything because of the moment at hand. I mean everything I say.” 

“Okay,” you smiled, “can you say you’ll fuck me then or do I have to wish for it when I spot a shooting star for it to come true.” 

He chuckled, it was low and thunderous so soothing and calming. It was always peaceful and eased your nerves even now as you laid completely naked. 

“I’m sorry, were you planning to fuck someone on a vacation?” you asked ogling, as he fetched a golden packet from his discarded pant pocket, removed his briefs and slipped the condom around his cock. 

“Only you,” he said, pressing the tip against your entrance far enough to have your mouth agape as a result but never enough to satisfy your craving to have him fucking you against the mattress, “I promise.” 

“Taehyung, if you don’t fuck me right now I might actually loose my mind.” 

He didn’t say anything else, you just felt him sliding in slowly giving you the time to adjust before he began moving in and out of you gradually. The air circulating the gray walls around the two of you became humid, hot enough to coat your body in a thin layer of sweat. You didn’t care though, you were enraptured in the feeling of him inside of you, in the echoing sounds of his skin slapping against your skin and his guttural grunts every time he drove into you. 

Reality was you’d imagined this moment many many times in your head before but nothing, none of your dreams or your wildest fantasies could’ve prepared you for how much better this felt in person.  

There were goosebumps running rampant on your arms, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your moans and whimpers only increased in volume but you couldn’t help it. 

“Harder—harder, please,” your nails drug into his back leaving bright red scratches behind. 

“Harder,” he repeated that very word over and over, quickly moving to execute your request. 

You felt all of the air being punched out of you everytime he buried himself deep in you, “Oh, yes, like that.” 

Taehyung hugged your waist listing your lower half up from the mattress and continued slamming into you. 

“I’m,”  he thrust into you.  

“—yours,”again.  

“—to take,” again.

“Use me,” and again. 

“Use me.” 

You clenched around him continuously, your vision blurred and you felt waves of the scorching heat in the pit of your stomach burning brighter and hotter than they ever had that night until finally you let go. 

Taehyung collapsed beside you, the two of you heaved in attempts to catch your breath. 

“Fuck,” was all you said. 

“Fuck, is right,” he laughed, “I’ll get a warm bath started for us.” 

He placed a kiss on your forehead then one on your lips before disappearing into the bathroom. 

Taehyung is your best friend but he is also the man who’s taken over your heart in a way that exceeds your platonic bond. 

There were no labels attached to what the two of you were but you didn’t need them for now because you knew that Taehyung would always be there for you no matter what the situation looked like. 

“Hey, are you ready to clean up?” he kneeled down next to the bed looking into your eyes.

“Of course.” 

-

-

-

a/n: out of season au cause im a slow writter but i hope everyone had a good summer and is looking forward to the fall 🍂🍁🍃

what will you miss most about summer?

#for me its the random ice cream runs and afternoons at the beach on the weekends #bts #bts smut #bts reactions #bts imagines #taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung imagine #taehyung drabble #tae smut

[seakicker]

N-need more … zhongli and chubby goddess reader .. or I’ll collapse

*catches you as you’re falling* fret not, anon… you’ve come to the right person for all things Squish related….

fem + chubby reader, an unofficial but totally official continuation to my rex lapis x chubby archon reader from the other day, body worship, and thighfucking below!

rex lapis who summons his darling little goddess of fertility wife with a simple call of your name— after he was gracious enough to take you in and grant you his protection, you quickly decided that being at his beck and call was in your best interest. who would you be to fight him, deny him, or stall him when he awarded you more kindness and graciousness than he’s ever awarded anyone else? when he calls for you, you answer, and now is no different.

you enter the room with a clumsy curtsy, folding your hands in front of you as he flips through a stack of papers. “my beloved,” he says simply, deep amber eyes leaving the contract he’s proofreading and gazing up at you. “come closer.”

“are you coming to bed soon?” you ask sweetly, trying to tread lightly so you don’t accidentally ask any invasive questions about his work. it’s none of your business— you’re not the god of contracts.

he only shakes his head, sighing and setting his papers down. “not anytime within the hour, i’m afraid. there’s much to be done before i meet with that troublesome archon of war tomorrow afternoon.”

you can’t hide your disappointment. you were hoping he’d resign himself to bed early for once so you could invite him to snuggle and hopefully then some. he works so hard— you’d like to take care of your husband even if he’s not generally the affectionate type.

and how he’d like to leave his paperwork for the night and fill his palms with something a little softer and sweeter than the stained, tattered cloth of ancient scrolls and contracts. how he’d like to indulge in the soft, comforting warmth only his wife is able to provide— rex lapis is inclined to believe that you’re hoping to tempt him into bed with the way you’re dressed. how sweet— his demure, flustered little wife wants to rile him up.

your nightgown is sheer enough to easily make out the outline of your areolas through the fabric and tiny enough to catch where it clings to your ample waist and soft belly— is there anything more erotic than seeing the gentle curve of your plump belly visible in your tight pajamas and sheer gowns? he doesn’t believe so.

answering his prior request, you make your way over to his desk. the candlelight coming from his workspace illuminates your body nicely— your husband really can make out the outline of your soft tits through the sheer silk of your nightgown.

“and is this your way of inviting me to bed?” he asks, expression completely neutral. oh, archons— is he going to mock you for such a pitiful attempt? scold you for attempting to interrupt his work? dismiss you with a disappointed sigh and a flick of his wrist? your husband is by no means cruel, but he does tend to be… cold.

“i thought that— it’s not… it’s not like that, i was just… getting comfortable,” you answer in a tiny voice, fiddling with the hem of your nightgown and tugging your bottom lip in between your teeth. “is it… no good?”

rex lapis replaces his quill pen in its dish of ink and sets it aside. “apologies, i didn’t mean it like that. it looks lovely on you, truly.”

“thank you, my love.”

rex lapis swallows hard— how do you always manage to be so sweet? how have you lived so many centuries untouched by the sin, wrath, and war every other god hasn’t been able to escape? how do you always manage to chip at his cold exterior?

“come here a moment,” he murmurs, hands settling on your soft waist. the way your body easily gives beneath his hands and allows him to get a good grip on you does more to him than he’d ever admit. soft and easily manipulated like bread dough, warm like a quilt left to dry in the sunlight all day, and more comforting than any of teyvat’s finest luxuries. you allow him to tug you into his lap, your arms shakily wrapping around his shoulders to better balance yourself on his thighs.

“this truly does look lovely on you. shall we go to the harbor tomorrow and purchase more silk to craft you a few more?” rex lapis offers, one of his dark, dully glowing hands sliding up the apex of one of your plump thighs. “perhaps paired with a necklace carved from cor lapis as well.”

his other hand gently maps the curve of your neck and your shoulder, relishing in the way you shiver and breathe his name quietly. you say nothing as he continues to trace your body like he’s drafting a map of liyue, his fingers dipping into the valley of your cleavage before retreating and drawing over the plump swells of your breasts.

“beautiful,” he murmurs contently, resting his face in the crook of your neck. “not a thing in all of teyvat could ever provide a man, mortal or immortal, with the same comfort and security his wife can.”

a hand grabbing at the soft tuft of your lower belly makes you shiver against his thighs, inadvertently rutting yourself against his leg as he gropes a generous handful of your tummy.

“lovely indeed,” he says matter-of-factly, as if he’s confirming a theory. “this softness serves as its own testament to a life of comfort, luxury, and generosity. my hands have long since worn down to callouses and bone from never-ending war and, as i’m sure you’ve noticed, my body is lined with a electric storm of scars after having sustained so many injuries. but you…”

your husband cups the plump heft of your belly in one of his broad palms, soft and undeniably warm against his skin as he massages your tummy with determination. “but you, my dearest… you stand for all the things i’ve fought for all this time. safety, comfort, and prosperity. a body this lovely is no greater proof of that.”

rex lapis cups your waist once more and gently drags you against one of his muscled thighs, sighing in delight in response to your surprised and pleasured moans. oh, he’d just love to eat you up.

“please allow me to continue worshipping your body as any man ought to worship his beloved, my love.”

#i need more of cold rex lapis x sweet soft archon of fertility reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #fertility archon reader #juju bakery #chubby reader #fem reader

[nico-di-genova]

Late Night Talks - Strollonso

Written for the prompt: [Lance and Fernando] dead-tired in bed, curled up to each other and they keep making dumb jokes and laughing at them

Warnings: NSFW, not super explicit, but mentioned.

@raapija hopefully this is sort of what you were looking for, I started with answering your prompt and then it just sort of got away from me.

Post Singapore is quickly becoming Lance’s least favorite post-race kind of feel, second only to Qatar which exists in a league of its own. He doesn’t do well in the heat, his body acclimated to colder climates and snow that comes up to his knees. Miami is about the closest he’ll come to acceptable humidity, and only when he can couple it with the lukewarm temperature of the ocean and the salty spray that comes from zipping through the waves on the back of a boat’s tow. But Singapore is the sort of wet heat that clings to you until you can’t breathe around it, it makes driving a car for two hours in on-the-limit conditions near impossible.

“I feel disgusting,” he complains to Fernando, drying the back of his wet hair with a hotel towel and grimacing. He still feels like he has sweat clogging his pores, embedded in his hair follicles, couldn’t seem to get himself clean no matter how hard he scrubbed at his skin.

Fernando, who had taken a shower in his own room because if they had shared it wouldn’t have resulted in attempting to get clean at all, wears a matching expression of discomfort. He’s sprawled across Lance’s bed, in nothing but his boxers and normally that would inspire something in Lance. But sex, especially with Fernando, is a sweaty endeavor and he would like to avoid adding to his already uncomfortable state.

Doesn’t stop him from getting hard anyway, noticeably tenting the towel low on his hips.

Fernando arches an eyebrow, peaks down at Lance through heavy-lidded eyes.

“No, ignore that.”

“Hard to ignore,” Fernando quips, but he’s just as exhausted as Lance and it shows when he doesn’t make an effort to sit up and pull Lance closer. Instead he closes his eyes and readjusts his arm where it’s resting under his head, lets out a sigh that Lance knows is a prelude to quiet snores.

“Don’t fall asleep there,” he complains, shucking off the towel long enough to slide on his own underwear, “You’re taking up the whole bed, asshole.”

He still needs to brush his teeth, probably make an attempt at skincare before the grime of the day sets in and breakouts quickly follow. But standing is beginning to take a lot of effort. It’s like he can feel the weight of the heat bearing down on his shoulders, even though they’re inside, can still feel it pressing on his chest. It’s a good thing they have a late flight tomorrow because Lance’s future plans include nothing more but sleeping until the bone deep exhaustion makes its way out of him.

Fernando hasn’t moved, still lays with his knees hanging off the bed, one arm flung out beside him, legs spread just as wide, like he’s intentionally trying to take up as much space as possible. He nudges Fernando’s knee with his own and it’s the only warning the man gets before Lance is collapsing down beside him, the full weight of him landing on Fernando’s outstretched arm and half on top of his body. They’re laying sideways on the bed, and Lance is too tall for this, immediately finds it uncomfortable. But Fernando smells nice, and he’s warm where Lance presses up against him, so he allows it for the time being. Even if Fernando’s arm is bony and uncomfortable where it’s digging into Lance’s side.

“You are still wet,” Fernando grumbles, still with his eyes closed, still half-asleep, “Off.”

“It’s my bed, old man,”

They share a hotel room most nights now, the separate bookings nothing more than a charade, but they are still technically in Lance’s room. Ignoring Fernando’s griping, he presses closer, throws a leg over the man’s body, finds the crook of Fernando’s neck and nuzzles his nose there, lets his wet hair brush against Fernando’s cheek, until Fernando is wriggling away in discomfort. Annoyance is not a tactic he employs frequently, nor is it one that typically works on Fernando, but it works tonight.

“Like a soggy cat,” Fernando chastises, and then sits up, taking his comforting scent and presence with him.

Lance smiles, satisfied, shifts until he’s right way up on the bed and can let his damp hair soak into the pillows. Fernando lets him get comfortable and then he lays back down, this time with his head resting on Lance’s chest, an area devoid of the moisture from the shower. His breathing evens out pretty quickly, tells Lance he’s quickly drifting back toward unconsciousness. One of his hands splays across Lance’s bare stomach, low enough that his fingers brush along the hair there.

And now it’s his turn to be annoying, because Fernando knows he’s sensitive, uses it to his advantage when he lets his pinkie inch down further.

“This is a dangerous game,” he warns, feels himself grow harder in his underwear.

He can feel when Fernando smiles against him, prickly beard rubbing against the raw skin of his chest with the curl of his lips, “You don’t want to play?”

“Too tired. It would be pretty boring, anyway. I don’t wanna move,” Lance lying flat on his back, Fernando half asleep, both of them pawing at each other’s dicks with flagging interest until the exhaustion won out and the draining adrenaline finally took the last bit of energy they had left. He doubts he could even cum, as tired as he is. And if he did he’d have to trudge back to the shower because no way is he waking up in the morning with cum dried tacky on his stomach alongside the inevitable sweat from being pressed next to Fernando, the human furnace, during the night.

Fernando laughs, quiet, rumbling, “You are a pillow princess anyway.”

“Hey.”

“Is true.”

“It is n-“ he thinks of last night, how Fernando had tried to goad Lance into riding him and he’d made himself more at home on his back. He liked looking up at Fernando, liked burying his head in the crook of his neck and scratching desperately at his back. All things that were pretty hard to do if he was sitting in the air having to dictate the rhythm himself. Lance wasn’t lazy, he just knew what he liked, so sue him.

Fernando knows he’s won when Lance changes the subject. “How do you even know that word?” he’s absentmindedly threading his fingers through Fernando’s hair, the strands mostly dry where Lance’s was still soaking into the pillow. His hair is soft, always well-maintained, soothes something inside Lance because the texture is familiar.

Fernando hums, pleased. Lance tries not to preen at the sound. Pillow princess his ass, he likes to make Fernando feel good too. He can put in the work. If the work is done easily on the comfort of his back.

“I am only forty-two, Lance. Not so old I do not know things.”

“One foot in the grave practically.”

Fernando scoffs, pinches Lance’s stomach in retaliation, “Yes. We go shopping for my headstone tomorrow, pick out flowers.”

Age used to be a thing between them. Back when this started a year ago. When Lance was twenty-four and Fernando still looked at him like he was seeing that kid standing in the Ferrari garage. It had been a thing approximately until the moment Lance took matters into his own hands, took Fernando’s cock in his mouth with practiced ease and any internalized war Fernando was fighting went right out the window. And then it had resurfaced with force the first time Fernando fucked him so hard he was sobbing into the sheets, the sex quickly aborted when Fernando got scared he’d done something wrong, no matter how many times Lance tried to promise it was only that he’d been doing everything right. So they’d had to have a serious discussion, establish boundaries, ensure Lance was in the right headspace to be in a relationship with a man he’d known since he was nine. Now they could joke about it, had put in the work so that the gap in their ages no longer mattered.

“A suit too?” Lance teases, accompanying the press of his words with the pads of his fingers against the base of Fernando’s skull, a pressure he knows helps because of all the times Fernando has done it for him.

Fernando laughs again, more gravely, barely there, “We are planning a funeral or a wedding?”

Lance thinks, stares up at the ceiling and tries to think of a reply that won’t leave him sounding strangled. Wedding. He is startled to find he likes that word, likes it coming from Fernando’s mouth with the concept of Fernando being the person waiting for him at the altar.

“Both. Two birds with one stone,” and then the image of a funeral wedding, both of them standing in a half-dug grave, an arch being replaced with a gravestone, becomes suddenly so funny he can’t stop giggling at the thought of it. “We could leave the reception in a hearse.”

It maybe speaks to his level of exhaustion that he can’t seem to stop laughing at the nonsensical turn in the conversation.

Fernando is still smiling, Lance can still feel it, “You are weird.” He says, and Lance can hear the alternate meaning in the statement, how fond it sounds.

“Been called worse,” Lance jokes, makes sure it stays that, because they both know there’s an element of truth to it. “You almost podium and you are talking about funeral weddings. Strange.”

Oh, yeah, P4. Singapore maybe had taken so much out of him because he’d pushed himself to nearly P3 with nothing but pure spite to fuel him. .3 of a second back from Sergio, chasing the unfamiliar sight of a Red Bull to the finish. He’d felt the desperate need to make up for last year, shut up a certain faction of people that couldn’t seem to keep his name out of their mouths. It wasn’t a podium though, only nearly one, so he still wasn’t particularly satisfied. Fernando had carried most of the excitement for him, praising him in post-race interviews and hugging him as soon as they climbed out of their cars. Lance had already seen pictures of the moment caught from his still active onboard, Fernando’s hand drifting to its natural place at his waist, the other on the back of his helmet. There was of course no sound, so no one had heard the praise Fernando showered him with before they went to be weighed.

‘So proud, cariño. So proud.’

“Almost a podium, Nano. It was P4,” Lance says now, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand, slinking down further into the pillows. Fernando shuffles with the movement, until he’s beside Lance and then they’re both on their sides, parallel to each other. Fernando’s arm wraps around his waist, pulls him closer.

Lance studies the wrinkles forming at the corners of Fernando’s eyes, reaches out to trail the pad of his thumb along them. It is probably one of his favorite features, the mark of years’ worth of laughter. Lance likes to think of Fernando happy, likes when he can make Fernando smile enough that the lines deepen. He doesn’t like when Fernando presses his lips together as he’s doing now, a thin line of dissatisfaction.

“Still a good result.”

Lance concedes, “Yeah, it wasn’t bad.” Could have been better, would have been if he’d been able to manage his tires better on the entry to turn seven like his engineer had requested.

He yawns again, curls closer to Fernando so now he’s the one with his head tucked under Fernando’s chin. If they were still outside, still in their cars, the warmth rolling off Fernando would be unbearable. But the temperature of the hotel has been set to freezing, so his body is beginning to return to a stable level of self-regulation.

“Next time you will get around Perez.”

“He’s in a rocket ship, man. You want me to teleport to P3?” He mumbles against Fernando’s neck, eyes drifting shut, weight of his body sinking further into the mattress.

“Lawrence can hire people. Make that possible. He would invent this for you, I think.”

They both laugh, and then Fernando is rambling something about holding Sergio back next race, letting Lance take P3, and then P2 and then, impossibly, they both know, P1. It’s half in French, half in the bits of Spanish Lance is picking up but is too tired to follow, and then it trails off into nothing because Fernando finally lets the exhaustion win. Lance follows behind not long after.

When they wake in the morning it is to the ringing of Fernando’s phone, to the frantic texts buzzing through on Lance’s. They missed their flight, which means the morning sex isn’t rushed. It means that Lance gets to lay on his back, lazy and selfish, while Fernando teases him but continues to thrust with measured accuracy above him. He lets Fernando mark the skin at the nape of his neck as compensation for doing all the work, lets him suck at the soft skin there until Lance is sure the hickey will take a while to fade.

And maybe Singapore isn’t that bad after all. Despite the heat. Lance thinks he could justify the humidity like he does for Miami, if P4, senseless late night talks, and Fernando’s smile when Lance pants his name are the reward for enduring the climate. It all feels worth it in the end.

#strollonso #strollonso fic #my fic #I once again ask #is this even anything? #at this point I think I write about them just to senselessly ramble #idk if this is even good tbh

[kierarutherford]

It's quiet. Too quiet as you slip into his quarters. There is candle light illuminating his shape, bent over his desk clearly invested in some information. He hasn't heard you enter or at least he appears absorbed by his study. You quickly tiptoe across the span between you. Before you get too close he bristles and abruptly stands upright. "I said never enter my quarters without knocking. Make yourself known. Immediately."

Silence is to be heard in response. Your tongue is dry as your throat quivers. "Commander." It's barely a whisper as you fiddle with your hands unsure how to react. That's when you see it. The lyrium kit. "Maker." This time is louder and he snaps and spins at your words. "Inquisitor!"

"I didn't mean to startle you," you try to play it off like you didn't see what you saw. Like he wasn't just contemplating death. Or at least your envisioned eventual death.

"What did you come for then?" He's taut and clearly in a foul mood. There is a thin line of sweat above his brow. Uncommon for how cool the room is. "I have troop maneuvers through the Emprise to plan. Is there something I can be of use?"

He's curt and it levels the air out of you. "I was just passing through and thought you could use some company. That's all." His face breaks and for a moment you swear he's relieved. "I can go if I'm a bother."

"No!" He says it too quickly and reacts even quicker. " I have somethings we could go over. If you have the time."

"Alright," you smile at the thought of spending time with him. Its not much but since you joined the Inquisition it's clear you have wanted more time with this man. And any little excuse was good enough. You ignore the lyrium kit. Hopefully when he's ready he'll talk about it. For now you feign interest as he begins a long drawn out explanation about his soldiers. You smile politely and continue to watch his every move. In time, just more time. His voice is animated as he goes on. You reply in turn and bless the Maker for making such an exquisite man. Every feature is its own splendor as you continue to focus on him. He's thorough and with each approach his eyes seem to light up. There is a wounded man behind those eyes. He's been melancholy since Haven. Almost inconsolable. But as he speaks now he seems alive. You allow yourself to believe it's your presence, your time bringing him back to life. Maybe it is. You smile wide as he makes a cheap joke. He's funny in his own way.

Time seems to stand still for some time but the cold night air is a bitter reminder time is progressing towards the dawn. You need sleep. He needs sleep. "Commander perhaps we can continue tomorrow? I fear I am falling asleep on my feet."

His eyes fall, "of course Inquisitor. At your leisure."

"I'll come find you or send word. Please get some rest. We should fix your ceiling at some point."

"No! I mean there is no need." He wriggles under your gaze. "I... I like the openess."

"Alright. Then I shall see you in the morrow. Good... Good night Cullen." It's soft and quick. Rip the bandage off fast to cut the pain. But he seems to melt upon the use of his given name. Like there is some soothing power behind your voice. "Good night Inquisitor." But he remains stoic. And slowly you turn towards the door. It wasn't long enough and it never is. But there is a promise of tomorrow and you look forward to it until your dreams melt with it. Tomorrow.

#cullen rutherford #dragon age fanfic #dragon age inquisition #commander cullen #short fiction

[etherealspacejelly]

Medication Diary: Day 2

i forgot that vitamin c counteracts adhd meds. maybe thats the reason why im not seeing much of an effect. might have to switch what cereals i eat

i think im thirstier than usual. one of the side effects is a dry mouth so that makes sense. also i didnt sleep well last night but that might just be because i had a bad day yesterday, we will see what happens tonight.

im gonna try taking my meds 1 hour after i eat breakfast tomorrow and see if that makes a difference. its so annoying that you cant take them on an empty stomach because it would be great if i could just wake up and take them straight away. i am a serial get-out-of-bed procrastinator.

so my plan is: get up earlier tomorrow and have breakfast, take meds one hour later, look into breakfast options that do not contain vitamin c or citric acid. hopefully that makes a difference!

#adhd #actually adhd #robins medication diary

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

@mlgssy asked for the prompts "Those rumors about us are getting annoying. How many times do we have to tell them we aren’t together?" and "Come back to bed." for Fred/Kelly (and you all know how much it pains me to write some Fred/Kelly) from a few different prompt lists that I didn't actually recognize, but they looked like a lot of fun.

So anyway! Here goes.

---

Olivia-G291 bounced nervously on the balls of her feet out in the hallway. She had been tasked with what was probably the most dangerous mission of her life, and it took a few moments to amp herself up and get enough courage to actually go through with it.

After several moments of hemming and hawing, the young woman finally decided that enough was enough. It was time to bite the bullet - hopefully only figuratively - and get things done. With only a slight tremor, she lifted her hand and knocked gently on the door to the quarters she had been squatting outside for nearly twenty minutes now.

It took exactly forty-eight seconds for the door to slide open a few inches. "It's 0230," came the gruff voice of Kelly-087 from in the dark recesses of her personal quarters. "What do you need?"

O swallowed nervously. "Ash and Mark had a question for the LT," she said, quieter than she had meant to. Her palms were sweaty and her throat was suddenly very dry.

Kelly poked her head out of the door to raise one eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. Her hair dangled loose, for once not in her signature ponytail, and the blue-dyed ends shone in the fluorescent hallway lights. "If you're looking for Fred, why are you at my door?" she demanded.

O swallowed again. "Well, he wasn't answering at his quarters, and he wasn't in the gym or the cafeteria, so we figured - well, Ash figured, really - that he might be..." she was jabbering now. For someone who had such a skill for silence, she couldn't seem to shut up at this point. "Well, I told Ash that he should come knock, since it was his question, but he told me that I'm the only one that Fred wouldn't kill tomorrow morning if I happened to interrupt you two. You see, he seems to think that I'm Fred's favorite, which is ridiculous because-"

"Enough," Kelly said firmly. O found herself very grateful for the excuse to actually close her mouth. "First," Kelly said, raising a finger to count her points, "Fred isn't here. Second, of course you're his favorite, don't be ridiculous. And third, those rumors are starting to get annoying. How many times do we have to tell you that there is nothing going on between he and I? Honestly, it's-"

Kelly fell silent when the distinct sound of a tired groan echoed out from the room behind her.

O, momentarily forgetting her abject fear of the older Spartan in favor of her ravenous curiosity, leaned forward slightly to try to get a peek into the room. "Was that...?"

"It was nothing," Kelly answered sharply. The look in her electric blue eyes dared O to challenge her.

O did not take that dare.

"Kelly come back to bed, it's cold," Nothing rumbled, its voice sounding shockingly similar to what O imagined one Lieutenant Junior Grade Frederic-104's voice might sound like if he were woken up in the middle of the night, his voice rough and his mind slightly disoriented from sleep.

Kelly's head drooped and she sighed dejectedly, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "I don't know why I bother," she muttered under her breath.

The younger Spartan took a step back, her hands raised. "Well, I think I'll just... go tell the others that he wasn't here," she said quickly, already turning and jogging back the way she had come.

Kelly didn't answer; she just retreated into her quarters and slid the door shut behind her.

#halo #halo fanfic #kelly 087 #olivia g291 #fred 104 x kelly 087 #prompt games #my writing

[ns-imagines]

Hurricane/Typhoon Prep

Platonic 141 x gn!reader

SFW | Word Count: About 500 |Headcannons/ Drabble

A/N: Its the Afternoon before the Typhoon (hurricane). There is currently a typhoon where i live in Japan. We rushed to get off work. Fingers crossed the power doesnt go off. This post is just for fun lol. Lemme know if I use too much military lingo. I’ll translate!

-Let's say everyone lived in the barracks. Even though Price, as Captain, would get base housing and Ghost would be in the officer barracks...anyways, you and the boys heard about the hurricane from Price. Apparently, this is going to be the worst storm the island has seen in a few years. They say that about every typhoon though.

-Ghost immediately went to the commissary (on-base grocery store), but he didn't get any good snacks. He just got stuff to meal prep in case the power went off. His idea of snacks is high protein snacks. The man loves to bulk up and maintain that muscle. Lots of protein bars... will 100% mention how he has to make up tonight at the gym.

-You and Gaz got stuck at work. "The typhoon doesn't dismiss you, I do." It's already starting to rain, and the wind is picking up. So much for staying dry. Gaz completely forgot to charge his portable batteries, even though you had a few days' warning before the storm. You’re pretty sure you have an extra!

-Price took his work home. He has a few mission reports to type up that can't wait. The commanding officer is waiting for them to review. #Officerthings So he took his laptop back to work until the power goes off. If it goes off.

-Soap managed to get off work before you and Gaz. He went straight to the gas station exchange (names of the stores on base) to stock up on snacks. There wasn't much left, but he grabbed everything that looked good. Some chips, ramen,and the last case of beer left!! Better than eating the MREs they hand out for typhoons. You’ll be constipated for days if you eat those…

-Finally, you and Gaz were let out of work and sped back to the barracks. You both took it upon yourselves to park really close to both sides of Soaps car. Don’t want the storm to blow it away! Changing into civilian attire, you both met in the hallway. Ghost and Soap were already together, hanging out in the room. They were quick to open the door as soon as they heard the knock.

-Soap definitely has the hangout room, along with Gaz. Gaz's room is more for drinking and playing cards all night, while Soap's is geared towards movie nights or typhoon campouts. The snacks lay displayed on his desk, and the fridge is full of beer and drinks. Not allowed to drink during a typhoon though. So soda and juice it is. Maybe one beer

-Price is the last to show up. He's been in the barracks for a while, but he wanted to finish that paper. All of you pick a spot on the couch or sit on Soap's bed to watch the movie. The wind howls outside, and the wind slaps the window. We'll definitely have tomorrow off.

-

This thing is literally edging us i want it to hit already so I can go outside!!!!!! Hopefully my motorcycle doesnt blow away or tip over….

Update: my motorcycle fell really hard and now im hiding it in my barracks room. Fml

#call of duty x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #soap x reader #price x reader #141 x reader #platonic 141 #ghost x reader

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

High and Dry

From Control - Full Story in Progress on AO3!

Soap x Reader x Ghost

Summary: You haven't talked to Soap much since you've known him, much less alone. Though the thought didn't intimidate you. Unlike Ghost or even Graves, Soap hasn't tried to put on any acts with you. In the most endearing way possible, Soap was just… Soap.

Tags: TW/Implied PTSD, Pre-Canon, Angst, Slow Burn, Fluff, Romance, Flirting, Banter, No smut (sorry), almost like an awkward three-way café date, kind of reads like an OC a little.

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: I wanted to write something cute for Soap because I've been typing Ghost x Reader x Graves (Which is certainly not over with), but I love creating new ways for drama to seep in, and Soap's right there looking fine as hell so... I tried to write it like a cutesy fluff romance. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Soap was the first to arrive at the café that night.

He lingered about on the sidewalk alongside the city street, having walked here alone. The café hadn't been as far away as he'd thought originally, and the walk itself wasn't anything some headphones and music couldn't make breezy. Though the late summer night grows colder the longer he stands around waiting for you and Ghost to arrive.

Hopefully he hasn't been stood up again. It seems to happen a lot these days.

Everyone has their excuses whenever it happens too. It usually went along the lines of "I'm too tired" or "something came up". Whatever worked for the moment.

Soap never held it against his team when the plans would fall through though. People all have lives of their own; he understands that better than many give him credit for. And tomorrow's always there, it wasn't like he'd be away from the team for long. Not when he's worked as hard as he did just to be a part of it.

Still, he'd been hoping tonight wouldn't be another dud. He was really looking forward to actually having a second chance to talk with you.

The last time he had the opportunity to get to know you, he'd gotten black out drunk instead; Soap was still kicking himself in the ass for that one. But he didn't plan on making that same mistake again. No, this time he's ready.

Another cold breeze wisp the back of his neck, raising goosebumps on his skin. He hugs his arms together and lets out a shivery sigh, as he leans against one of the streetlights, his eyes diverting back and forth between the passing cars and those who'd walk by him on the sidewalk. All while the minutes crawl, the city ambience rumbling around him. It wasn't that late at night, yet the city bustled with life.

Laughter and boisterous voices erupt suddenly. The café doors swing open again, with its familiar bell chiming above. It allows for the interior's warmth to wash over the Sergeant, the smell of freshly made coffee and baked goods blowing out just before the door shuts. It sings to the man, who now desperately looks around himself for any sign of his companions.

The sound of distant car horns and aggressive chatter pull at his attention once more. He can't help but sigh to himself in marvel, swearing beneath his breath. "Shite..."

It's all very big, this city he's found himself in; his hometown in Scotland felt small in comparison. 

There was just so much here -- it was big and loud and dirty and busy, just like some old backdrop in a movie. With his half of the Task Force on stand-by at their current base, he was already mapping out places he wanted to visit, assuming there's enough time to venture before getting sent out again. He hopes so.

It's not often Soap finds himself in the States, but the atmosphere never ceases to enamor him. The others would say that's rather easy to do though, given the Sergeant's attention span and spontaneous nature outside of combat, which in that case Soap would have to agree.

He always was an easy man to please.

"Soap?"

That soothing, familiar voice of yours turns his head without hesitation, as he catches you walking towards him down the sidewalk. And as easily pleased and enamored Soap always found himself, you watch the stars shine in his eyes the moment they finally set sight on you.

You cleaned yourself up since the last time he saw you a few hours ago, having done your hair and put on something more suitable for the café setting. You decided to forgo your makeup for tonight as well. Your face sat rather worn, making the natural look of you that much more comfortable to be around, your eyes inviting him forward.

Soap had to keep himself from gawking.

He greets you, "There she is!"

You jokingly strut your way over and hold your arms out to present yourself. Soap must have taken the gesture as you trying to initiate a hug, in which he needed little convincing to reciprocate. A large smile grows on his face and two giant steps later he's in front of you, his arms wrapping around like a heated blanket.

The hug made you jolt at first, catching you off guard. The first thing you register is his scent, not a cologne or shampoo, but not bad either. It's very... him. Easy to take in. Before long you've let the warmth of his large arms and frame lull you into him, taking the cold night air away with his touch. 

You wrap your arms around him and hug back, laughing into his shoulder. "Aw," you start to tease. "I wasn't gone that long."

Soap lets you go, though he remains close. "You certainly got dolled up," he comments, taking the opportunity to take a better look at you beneath the streetlight.

"Oh you know," you shrug at his comment, your tone sarcastic. "I couldn't resist. You'll quickly learn I secretly crave being the center of attention."

Soap lets out a sharp exhale at your joke, chuckling to himself. He then almost hesitates before speaking again, "Well, you look lovely tonight."

You cock your head in amusement, your eyes growing pleasantly wide. "Why thank you."

Despite his sudden shyness, Soap certainly makes sure to look at you like he isn't. Having this natural gumption about him. He gives you a charming smile. "You're welcome."

You look Soap up and down and start to lean on your leg, as you cross your arms. "Hm," you say. "Gym attire still?"

Oh yeah. His outfit. He'd changed before coming here, sort of. Sure the man was still in his gym clothes, but Soap figured a hoodie would be enough, the black pullover he'd found fitting somewhat snug on him. However the longer he waits, the more he wishes he'd gone ahead and put something else on.

"Hey," Soap merely shrugs. "It's cozy."

You giggle. "I imagine."

The two of you enter into the café side by side, quickly skimming for a place to sit as you shared idle chatter together.

The café was a small, quaint little spot, some mix between a coffee shop and a bar, with dark wood flooring and interior. Soft music plays in the background, just barely humming over the crowd. And the smell, it had Soap's stomach grumbling the moment he took his first step in.

You find a table somewhere off near a corner of the main area, beside a misty window and candle lights, with just enough chairs for your impending party. For now however, it would only seat you two.

You and Soap sit across from each other. You don't notice the lack of legroom beneath the table until you feel yourself accidently bump against the man. Your ankle rubs against his leg, brushing faintly before you both awkwardly shift yourselves into place, pretending to ignore it. Though you both give each other a goofy look after.

"This place is quite adorable," Soap comments suddenly.

"Right?" You smile. "It looked nice on Google and didn't have completely shitty reviews, so I figured we could give it a try."

Soap chuckles to himself, looking around more and really taking in the scenery. The place is done up nicely with its candles and stringed lighting carefully placed, the plants and decorations giving the space a very cozy vibe.

It's just the two of you right now, tucked away at some candlelit table only a few feet apart. Alone.

"Feels romantic."

Your eyes widen a little, but you don't appear flustered. In fact, the comment only seems to further intrigue you. The small reaction is enough to bring a playful smile out of Soap. "Ya know," he teases. "If you wanted to ask me out on a date, you could have just said so."

You smile and scoff.

"Too much?" Soap asks.

"Mm." You give him a sultry look, humming to yourself and leaving the man in suspense. He starts to lean in curiously, his smile never leaving, and his gaze never faltering. Soap's piqued expression tickles you. "It's cute how you look at me like that."

Ah, he thinks to himself. That doesn't quite answer his question, but it definitely tells him something. Something he finds himself also intrigued by.

"It's cute how it makes you smile."

Now he's gone and made you blush, the image getting a little rise out of Soap, who takes that as a small victory.

"Any word on Ghost?" you ask him suddenly.

Oh right. Soap had to remember this was indeed not a date. He shakes his head, "He said he'd be here though."

"Oh well," you wave your hand jokingly. "I'm sure we can handle ourselves in the meantime. Keep each other company."

Soap smiles innocently. "Aye."

The conversation between you went peacefully. Flowingly even. It seems this chatty side came to you when work wasn't the topic of discussion.

You talked a lot about whatever caught your mind, sometimes it was an old story, other times it was just an opinion about a TV show you'd watched. But you talked. And Soap listened happily, having fun hearing all the ways you used your words and expressed what was on your mind. And when he talked, you gave him the same amount of eager attention.

You were a lot more chatty than he'd originally thought you were; which was saying a lot, as you were already pretty talkative. Soap's watched you speak in riddles with Ghost in the past, but with him, you seemed more interested in just being yourself.

And honestly, he was just getting lost in you in general. 

The entire aura you had was addicting to interact with. Your eyes bounced around animated-like when you talked about something you were more passionate about. You licked your lip a lot when listening to him, and always nodded, letting him know in smallest of gestures that you were indeed invested.

As the minutes fly by, Soap thinks to himself. This is really nice.

Had Ghost not finally arrived, Soap's sure he would have talked to you all night like this.

Ghost stepped into the café, turning a few heads his way just from his presence alone. As usual, he opted for something dark and comfortable to wear for the occasion. And as usual, he wore his skull balaclava.

The minute Ghost enters your peripheral, your face gleams with excitement, as you struggle to bottle up a cocky smirk. It was a lot different than how you had looked at Soap when you saw him. It piques his curiosity. Naturally, this doesn't intimidate the Sergeant one bit. He didn't get here being uncompetitive after all.

"You're late, lieutenant," you say to him.

Ghost looms over the table for a moment, growing more comfortable in the spot you two had chosen, as it wasn't as close to everyone in the building. "I had business to attend to," he says cryptically.

"Business?" Soap raises an eyebrow. "This late? What sort of business?"

"That's need-to-know, Sergeant."

...

Once Ghost was seated, Soap watched your attention shift slowly from him to the lieutenant, your jokes and jabs leaning towards Ghost now more so by every comment. Though you do what you can to share the attention, as did Soap, all while Ghost sat passively by, giving his same tired responses to the both of you.

After some time, the conversation starts to flow naturally between you three. Once a few kinks were worked out. You and Soap do most of the talking for Ghost, who had been more than happy with listening and responding as prompted. While his demeanor said otherwise, somewhere in him he was happy his aloofness hadn't seemed to rub either of you the wrong way.

Eventually you two somehow "convince" Ghost to go and order the drinks for all of you, giving him a chance to break away from all the extraverted energy exuding in the air. He practically jumps at the opportunity, leaving you alone with the Sergeant again. Just as Soap had unknowingly been hoping for too. 

You didn't last long with his smiling and eyeing you before you were doing the same.

"So, do you always go by your callsigns outside of work, or can I use your real name as well?" You lean forward on the coffee table with intrigue, your chin rested in your palm, as a smirk pulls at your lips. "Before I start making up pet names that is."

"Pet names?" Soap lets out a sharp laugh, the flicker of the fancy candlelights twinkling in his light blue eyes. He then grows sly, resting his arms on the table across from you. He leans in a little. "What kind of pet names?"

You bite your lip a little and look over his shoulder at the other patrons. "Only the most fitting kind," you say coyly.

"Too shy to share now, are we?" Soap asks.

"Maybe I'd rather just say your name instead."

The thought of you letting his real name roll from the tip of your tongue seems to bubble something hot inside the Scotsman, which manifests itself into a shy little laugh. For such a naturally talented, and deadly man, he could be rather bashful.

"If you want to say my name, you only have to ask me," he says, his voice low and gravelly now. "Nicely, of course."

"Soap." In the nicest voice you can muster, you ask, "Can I call you by your name?"

"Why yes you may."

"John, right?" you ask. "That's the name on your files, if I remember correctly."

There's a spark in his blue eyes after you say it, almost like he's been waiting to hear what it sounded like in your voice, wrapped in the allure of your words.

"Aye," he smiles. "That's right."

"Jooohhn," you sound his name out a little more, letting it familiarize itself in your mouth. It makes the air get caught in his throat. You smirk. "I guess you look like a John."

"What gave it away?"

"Mmm," you place a finger to your lip and think to yourself, letting your eyes look him up and down. He watches you detail the veins in his forearm, the bulk of his arms, the shape of his stubbled jaw and the red blush that formed at the corners of his ears. "Your body."

"My body?"

"Yeah," you confirm. "Your body. I'd say you're built like a "John". Big arms, big smile, strong, a little stocky -- I'd say that's very "John" like of you."

Soap laughs again. He laughs a lot, you've found. It was rather infectious; you could hardly stop yourself from reciprocating it. Nor did you want to.

"Don't forget handsome," he adds in.

"Right," you say. "Also smart."

"And charming," he smirks.

"And overconfident," you tease.

"That's not a bad thing."

"I agree," your gaze lowers a little. "I do like my men a bit cocky."

"Oh?" Soap leans on his arms now. He hasn't taken his eyes from you since you've started this conversation. "I'm yours so soon then?"

You rest your chin back on your hand and lean forward some more, playfully being seductive. "Is that a bad thing, John?"

You see the blush begin to pool into the man's cheeks, as he lets out a shy chuckle. However, despite the blushing, he grins, never breaking eye contact. "I wouldn't complain."

Your hands both rest on the table, only a few inches away from one another. You're not exactly sure what convinces you to do it -- maybe knowing that he was the only man around you that would allow for it -- you extend a finger and gently let it graze the edge of his palm, stealing a warm touch. A simple, gentle poke.

Soap's jaw tenses at the sensation, though not because he didn't like it. His eyes drop down, watching your hand move stealthy. Your finger retreats as quickly as it had reach out to him. You look off into the room again, purposefully acting as though you hadn't noticed your hands touch.

You don't see his smile, but you do feel his hand gently graze yours a few seconds later, lingering. They're quite warm, both firm and gentle all at once. Your hand subliminally chases his skin at the slightest motion, and before long the tips of your fingers hover over his again.

"Is this the part where you tell me your name now?" he asks. "As much as I like Canary."

That's when Ghost decides to come back with those drinks. You both quickly straighten up, attempting to bring back your more casual demeanor. 

"I may have spooked the barista," Ghost says, before taking a seat and passing you both your orders.

Soap's goldfish attention span carries his gaze from you to the lieutenant. Sarcastically, he goes, "I wonder why."

"You'd think she saw a ghost," the lieutenant quipped. Ghost takes a look at the both of you, seeing the coy expression on your faces and the blush on both your cheeks. It raises a brow from him, beneath his mask. "Am I interrupting?"

"Canary was just about to tell me her name," Soap looks back over at you, not letting you get off the hook just yet.

"Ah," Ghost says.

"You're not curious L.T.?"

"...I already told him actually," you laugh awkwardly. 

Soap gasps. "You did?"

"It was a little bit ago actually," you say.

"And ye didn't tell me?" His Scottish accent swirled the words of from his lips, as you could hear the heartbreak in his voice. "Can I know too then?"

"I don't know," you tease. "Maybe I might keep it a secret now. Keep you guessing."

"Wha'?" He scoffs.

"It takes a little more than asking me nicely to get my name, Sergeant. Though I appreciate you telling me yours."

"You're a cruel lady, Canary."

"Tell you what," you get a mischievous look on your face suddenly, one that pauses Soap patiently. "I'll tell you my name," you bring your eyes to Ghost, who sits quietly at the table with his drink (which was already half gone despite having just seated himself). "If Ghost tells me his name first."

"His name wasn't in the same files?" Soap asks.

You shake your head. Most of Ghost's files were blacked out and classified, though his reputation proceeds him clearly. Meanwhile, Soap's files couldn't be any more of a stark difference in comparison. 

The man's files read like a novel of high praises and decorations. A 22 Regiment member at only 18 years old, with some of the highest scores on record, and the youngest to ever pass the selection into the SAS too. There are whole pages spent going into detail on everything he specialized in; he might joke around about his callsign, but even the name Soap carries some weight to it.

You really felt lucky he even cared to know your name at all.

Soap looks over at Ghost pleadingly, though he already knows what to expect. Ghost keeps his eyes closed nonchalantly, holding his drink close to his chest.

He pouts at his superior. "L.T.?"

"You're on your own, Johnny."

Soap bows his head in defeat as you laugh, standing from the table with your drink. You excuse yourself for the moment, leaving the men to themselves.

As you walk away, Soap watches you go, his eyes dropping from the back of your head to the lower half of your body. He sees the bounce in your step and the sway of your hips move before you vanish behind the crowd of other patrons.

"Don't stare too long Johnny," Ghost's voice cuts in suddenly. Soap nearly jumps when he looks back over and sees Ghost staring dead at him. The shock on Soap's face only makes Ghost shake his head disapprovingly. "Might burn a hole in 'er back."

The Sergeant smiles to himself. "I can't help it," he says. "I mean shite... What a bonnie, aye?"

Ghost gives Soap a deadpan stare. "A what?"

"Oh," Soap clears his throat. "She's cute."

Cute? Cute ? From the way Soap's whole demeanor lit up the moment he saw her, Ghost could have guessed as much. However, he hadn't expected the Sergeant's words to make Ghost feel so... odd about it. Mulling over it in fact.

Ghost looks across the café, watching you approach the halls to the restrooms, just out of range of the men's conversation. He imagines this would be a little awkward if you heard them talking.

"Keep your head on straight, Sergeant," Ghost states. "We aren't off work just yet."

"Aye, I know sir," Soap sighs. "But this is nice too, no? Havin' a break every now and again."

"You shouldn't drop your guard so easily," Ghost chides. "Especially around strangers."

"She's not that much of a stranger," said Soap.

"No," Ghost's eyes unconsciously roam the room, droopy with exhaustion. Indeed you didn't feel quite like a stranger, least of all to Ghost. "But she's not us."

"I guess you're right..." Soap is quiet for a moment, and then a thought passes his head. He pouts at the lieutenant all grumpy like. "Though that's funny comin' from ye, seein' you clearly had a chat when no one was around."

Ghost groans to himself, taking his eyes away from the Sergeant. He hadn't mentioned anything about that night with you to anyone, having just kept the whole event locked away in his mind. It's been a struggle enough just doing that.

"I just drove her home the one time," Ghost sighs. "No need to work yourself up, mate."

"Right, from that other night," Soap reminisces. "I was out for damn near most of it. Though I heard there was a fight."

"Don't ask me about it," Ghost says. "She didn't say much, and I didn't ask for an elaboration."

"Or maybe you're just hiding all the juicy bits," Soap starts to poke.

"No one likes a gossip, Johnny."

"Fair enough," Soap sighs.

"I find her being here odd," Ghost comments suddenly. "Why transfer her here with us? Why now?"

"It is a bit strange..." Soap admits. "I'm sure it's not anything she can help. Orders and all."

"Good orders, or bad ones?"

"I doubt they're bad," Soap sighs. He then gets this quizzical look about him, as he nudges at the lieutenant suddenly. "You think they sent her to spy on us?"

Ghost's eyes search for you in the café again, still finding you standing off to yourself near the back. Frozen. It's rather peculiar now, it makes the lieutenant's brow furrow.

"My gut's tellin' me somethin's off."

"Your gut says that a lot," Soap jokes.

"It's kept me alive this long."

"And alone."

Ghost pauses at Soap's comment, the words sticking to him. He opens his mouth to say the first thought that comes to his mind, how being alone suits him just fine. But then he pauses, letting that sentence sink back down into his throat. Pretty soon too many seconds have crawled by, and instead Ghost settles for silence instead.

Soap comments no further, giving Ghost enough time to look over and see you still standing where he last saw you. Frozen still.

This time Ghost excuses himself, as he makes his way towards you, if not just to make sure you were doing OK.

By the time Ghost nears, he finds you standing off a ways in the café, just teetering at the start of some small, narrow corridor towards the building's restroom and backrooms. The lights are off in the hall, the glow of the main seating area cutting off sharply against the archway of the hall. The corridor stretches endlessly into its own darkness.

You stare deep into the hallway, frozen, eyes wide, and contrite. Your drink is clasped so tightly in your hands that the plastic bends unnaturally in your shaky grip. And the other patrons glide by, chatting idly, ignoring you, the world continuing on all around, as the store's music drowned out the sounds of your heavy breathing.

A fear of some sort has overtaken you. Ghost almost thought that fear had manifested itself into someone standing down at the end of the hall; the two of you deadlocked in a glare. He keeps his distance when he approaches you, not to have his presence disturb you just yet. Wanting to see what it was you saw.

Ghost looms a few feet away, the shadow of his large figure barely meeting your peripherals. Your back stays turned to him, completely unaware of his large figure behind you. He feels the tension riveting from you the closer he inches forward.

He looks down this hall that's captured your gaze, expecting to see the face of the stranger that's stopped you so abruptly. Yet when his dark irises trail along to where your gaze stops, he's met with the cold ending of an empty hallway. Not a soul in sight.

And yet you stand here, peering in. Afraid. No longer here in this moment.

Immediately, he recognizes what it is that is happening.

Ghost rest his hand on your shoulder, carefully. A small nudge that should knock you out of this trance this hallway has taken you down. Something tells him, you'd appreciate the distraction and a change of scenery. However, the man's touch against your arms does anything but calmly bring you back.

The minute his cool fingers glide against the fabric of your clothed covered shoulder, his touch sends a thunderbolt through you. Your entire body tenses and you yelp, your drink falling from your hands and crashing onto the tiled flooring, spilling everywhere.

Ghost takes a step back, feeling the eyes of the other patrons looking your way. Their stares seem to bother you most of all.

"Shit," you look around, searching for anything you could use to clean the mess you'd suddenly created. "I'm sorry..."

Eventually one of the workers walks from around the counter with a mop and a bucket, their trained smiles already ushering both you and Ghost away from the spill so they could clean the mess. The store settled back to itself rather quickly, allowing for you to not feel as trapped in by everyone and everything.

You can't seem to lift your gaze from the floor, ashamed by your sudden behavior. You spare Ghost no words, and the man can't seem to find words suitable enough to spare to you in return. All you're left with is the unspoken tension and familiar darkness swirling about.

Your head sags, and you speak nearly at a whisper now. "...I need to get out of here."

Before Ghost can reply, you zip past him in a shameful flurry, making a beeline for the exit. You run into Soap on your way out. However, his joyous smile and matching words did little to stop you from walking out the door.

...Chapter Sixteen Here!

#call of duty #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley #modern warfare ii #call of duty mwii #ghost mwii #soap mwii #Spotify #control

[kaminocasey]

25 Days of Life Day: Day 10 - Decorating Cookies with Fives

Summary: You try to decorate cookies. Unfortunately, Fives would rather distract you.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Sexual situations

A/N: LMAO, this was supposed to be wholesome fun but writing for Fives... it just kinda takes on a mind of its own. Sorry if you were expecting a fluffy Fives moment lol. He's just so hot, you know?

25 Days of Life Day Masterlist

The smell of chocolate chip and sugar cookies lingers in your kitchen as you and Fives sit around your kitchen island, decorating the sugar cookies. Fives keeps sneaking the small ones when he thinks you aren’t looking and it just makes you smile every time.

Now that the war was over, you could enjoy your moments like this forever without having to worry about Fives getting shipped off somewhere. You could celebrate your first Life Day together. 

“That looks too good to eat.” Fves watches as you make a wreath by swirling the greens with a small toothpick. 

“Thank you.” You grin up at him and then look over at his cookies.

Some of his cookies turned out really well. Others… not so much. But it didn’t matter because he’s going to eat them no matter what. 

“Why are you so good at this?” He squints at you, suspiciously.

You laugh. “I’ve watched a lot of holovids about cookie decorating.” 

He playfully gasps. “YOU CHEATER.” 

You roll your eyes amused. “I’ve never done it before, though. How can I be a cheater?”

He ponders this for a moment, putting a cookie into his mouth as you pick up the icing bag to do another cookie. 

“You do realize if you keep eating all of them, we won’t have any for the Life Day party tomorrow night, right?” You point the icing bag at him, accusingly.

He holds his hands up in surrender and turns around to open the fridge. He opens the lid and you look up just in time to see him bring the milk jug to his lips.

“Don’t you dare!” You accidentally squirt the icing bag and green icing goes everywhere.

It lands on Fives’ face, the milk jug, the floor, and all over already iced sugar cookies. He pulls the milk away from his face, looking at the mess you just made with a huge, amused grin.

“Ugh.” You laugh. 

He grabs a towel and starts wiping up the mess as you turn around to the sink to wash your hands. 

“I can’t believe I just did that.” You groan. 

“I feel like it’s partially my fault. I’m sorry, mesh’la.” He comes around the island, wrapping his arms around you.

You dry your hands and turn around to face him, and then laugh when you see the icing on the side of his face. 

“Did I miss a spot?” He asks with raised eyebrows.

“I think you did.” You cup his face, turning it to the side so you can lick a stripe up the side of his face. 

He hums, clearly pleased with himself. The icing really was delicious. Hopefully, when you get these cookies finally done, they’d taste just as good. Fives pushes his hips against yours and you know that these cookies are probably not getting done tonight. 

“This was your plan all along wasn’t it?” You tease him.

“No.” He shakes his head, smirking down at you. “My plan included less icing.”

“I’ll tell you what…” You purr, running your hands up his chest. “Help me finish these cookies and I’ll give you a treat after.”

“Not another cookie, right?” He chuckles.

“Definitely not.” You reach up and kiss him and then pull away from him to start working on the cookies again.

You feel Fives’ hands circle around your waist from behind you and he rests his chin on your shoulder. This man was the most easily distracted person you’ve ever met. It was a wonder how he got anything done, though you know first hand he can finish something when he puts his mind to it. You smirk at the thought of all the ways he’s proved that to you. 

“Oooor… you could give me a treat now and we could finish the cookies later.” He suggests, kissing your neck.

When he licks just under your ear, a shiver goes up your spine as you let out a soft moan. “You’re impossible.” 

“But you love me.” He chuckles. 

“I really do.” You grin. “But I also want to finish these cookies.”

“How about this… I’ll go out and buy some after we finish with our other activity.” He whispers. 

He kisses your cheek when you lean your head back on his shoulder. The smirk is clear in his tone. You put the icing bag down and turn around, kissing him fully. 

“You better get the pretty ones.” You look up at him.

“I promise.” He holds up his hand before lifting you up in his arms and sitting you on a free space on the counter, dropping to his knees. “I’ll buy you all the pretty cookies you want.” 

You smirk and watch him prove to you just how good at finishing other things he is. TAGS: @grievouus @brynhildrmimi @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @misogirl828 @rexandechosandwich @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @twistedstitcher27 @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @idlenesses @hated-by-me

#25 days of life day #tcw #the clone wars #tcw fives #arc trooper fives #tcw fives x reader #tcw fives x you #clone wars fives

[marcelwrites]

The written word is fickle and yet I'm beholden to its power. I go weeks, bled dry, full of dust, and then suddenly a vein is ripped and it's a torrent. From the corpse-like rigidity of having nothing, to the limber and lithe pirouetting of creating something meaningful. The in-between, the forced trudge of spewing something into the world, is worse than the death sentence of being creatively bankrupt, so I try to avoid it. Stephen King has said that you should be aiming to write 1,000 words a day consistently but there's a deep, dark shame to writing something lengthy and knowing it's been forced. These bastard paragraphs that feel false and look hollow. The ill-fitting skin of something meaningful wrapped around coat hangers and polyester bed filling.

This week I'm getting back into a good rhythm with my training and workouts, I've been skipping a few days a week, which I never used to do. A few months ago I was intent on boxing and dedicating myself to combat and fighting. Some sort of deep internal anger or frustration just isn't there in the same way, some of the fire has gone out, or has simply changed form. Where's the fucking fire and the fury? I don't like feeling less driven, or like I'm in this place of serene equanimity. Honestly, it's probably that I've just been too busy with everything. Making and editing videos, streaming, hanging out with and talking to friends and family; all the important shit that makes you take stock of how good your life actually is when you aren't so focused on the wanton injustices in society.

Tomorrow I'll head to the cinema and see what's playing. Hopefully the new Exorcist movie is still showing because I was keen on seeing that. I don't really care what's showing, I just like the experience. Go to the cinema, get a good workout in, do some reading, eat clean, and chat to mates. It's a solid game plan for a Tuesday. Soon it'll be festival season and I'm so fucking ready to go on an adventure again. It's so close I can almost taste it. Looking forward to vegan fast food and walking around the streets of Melbourne at night. Feel the cool breeze on my face and marvel at how massive the city is. Not perception, but perspective.

#marcelwrites #writing #words #thoughts #text

[kimmimaru]

Random story time: I decided twenty minutes ago it would be a good idea to polyfil all the holes/cracks in my walls this evening. Now this would not be all that interesting if it wasn't 9 at night and I am walking around the living room/hallway with my hands caked in white goop muttering to myself and smearing said goop all over the walls. My daughter decided now would be a good time to come downstairs for a drink. This was a mistake because I am being a sick gremlin with a fever who has decided a bit of minor DIY is a good idea. I think I freaked her out a bit. Still, I got it done and the goop will hopefully be dry tomorrow so I can sand it down. Did I do a good job? No. It looks horrific. Like some weird plaster-covered demon came in and stalked around my house wiping its hands over the walls. But it should be good enough after its dried and sanded down...I hope. I will paint over it anyway so that should cover it. I don't think the muttering to myself helped my daughters concern, I talk to myself when I do things a lot but calling the holes 'she' as I smear them with white goop may have been a bit much (that sounds way worse than it actually was, I was just muttering: There she goes. All covered. and stuff, not like...being weird and sexual about it lol I was giggling to myself though, because I thought it was funny, blame the fever). Honestly I didn't intend for her to see me doing it, I thought she was glued to her tablet upstairs.

[nofr1lls]

HIIIII ✨🫶✨

hope YOU are doing well!! :))

how’s the apple hunt going? I saw that you were on day 2 and stopped. L behavior right there…

anyways, I missed you!! hopefully I can get more sleep and be online here more often lol

THE APPLE HUNT HAS NOT CEASED I JUST HAVE NOT BEEN PROVIDING UPDATES ON TUMBLR BUT U MAKE ME REALISE THAT THATS SO UNFAIR TO THE MUTUALS. here r my notes so far:

Bravo- Monday night: 85c. light, crispy and juicy. not too sweet and missing the weird flavour of a pink lady. I think this one is not overly ripe the flesh is very light and green at the core

Granny Smith- Tuesday night: 75c juicy and sour. nice at first but an absolute trek to get thru the whole thing. mouth feels kind of dry after

Kanzi- Wednesday night: literally just tastes like a pink lady what was all that hype for. its the sharp sweetness that I just don't enjoy that I guess is the point of an apple for most people sorry I'm just not like the other girls ........ satisfying crunch tho. I felt so betrayed and upset I forgot to record the price

and i didnt have work today but its pink lady day tomorrow! not looking forward to it but im committed to the research.

JOAN I HAVE MISSED U TOO but please don neglect sleep in favour of the computer i will still be here when u are rested!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#ask #groundbreakingdot872 #<333333333333333333. 4 even

[levis-coffeecup]

Chapter 19 | Tangled Threads

WC-6.3 k

Content/Warnings

canon- compliant, canon-typical violence, descriptions of PTSD, grief, depression, heavy angst and themes, strong language.

Author's note:

Hi guys,

Feels like I should stop making promises about when the next chapter will be out, because I always end up being late lol. But this time it was an internet issue I promise.

Also I don't know why I feel like there is a big para where the tense is different or the things just don't make sense. I've gone over that chapter once so hopefully its just me being anxious, and I haven't skipped past anything. (But if I have then please don't judge me and let me know lol).

This chapter was lowkey inspired by the song Phir Le Aya dil , so that's the song for this chapter. Also all the future songs for the chapters might be desi songs because being in New York only makes me feel more patriotic 🤡

Anyways thanks for tuning in, and I hope you find the chapter to your liking.

Chapters

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22

Masterlist | Playlist | Other Works

JAN 847

Ivan’s wedding is finally here. And Levi and Mae settle in a hotel in Mitras, taking a night’s rest, before attending the function tomorrow.

The room they stay in is small. Meant for one person only, but it was the only thing that fit their budget, in a city as expensive as Mitras.

There’s a desk and chair in the opposite corner, with a cupboard next to it. And their shared suitcase lays open on the floor, with a towel kept on top of it.

Mae has cozied up on the bed. Fresh from a bath.

The trip from Jinae to Mitras has been exhausting. Her legs are sore from sitting in that cramped cart for so long. It was filled with people and there was not a single woman inside, besides her.

And she’s so grateful that Levi was with her. Even though he probably has no interest in Ivan’s wedding whatsoever. He made her feel so safe and protected.

Levi walks fresh out of the shower. With a pair of trousers on, and the scent of his body wash steaming out of the bathroom.

Her face softens.

Fresh drops of water still drip down his lower back, and coils of wet hair stick to his skin. And his muscles flex as he bends down to pick his towel from the suitcase.

And Mae pines over him in silence. Almost smiling.

She’s going to spend the next 3 days with him. A part of her is so excited, because this is the first time she gets to spend so long with him. But a part of her also doesn’t want to bring her hopes too high, in case she ends up getting disappointing again.

Because her relationship with Levi has always been a rocky one. Often leading to more doubt than warmth..

He takes the towel off his shoulders, and starts to dry his hair. And Mae can only stare as desire ignites in her stomach.

She hasn’t pecked his cheek, ever since that day, when he dropped her off home. She’s even stopped casually touching his arm. And much to her disappointment, Levi hasn’t brought it up.

She wonders if he ever misses it. She wonders if he ever melts at her touch, just like she does.

And tonight, it's just the two of them, staying in this dimly lit room with this small bed that can only fit one person. She wonders if he’ll initiate something. He’s a man after all.

“Levi!“ She chimes, her smile welcoming and her eyes are warm. And she pats the spot on the bed, next to her, as she sweetly mutters, “will you sleep on the bed next to me?”

“You can take the bed,” he answers instantaneously, continuing to pat his hair dry, Not even pondering over her offer for a moment.

And just like always, she tries but he doesn’t bother. And just like always, she reaches a hand forth, only to see him take 2 steps backward.

It adds to her frustration, like fuel to fire. “And where will you sleep?” She asks exasperated.

And Levi pauses, sensing the tiniest shifts in her mood. He looks up at her, his lithe eyebrows, rumpled.

He never sleeps on the bed, not even in his quarters.

He sleeps on his desk chair instead, with his ODM gear sprawled on the desk, in a way that if the titan breaks through any moment, he can quickly put the gear on. And be ready for what is to come.

He sleeps on his desk chair, so that he can feel the tremors on the ground, if the titans ever do barge in.

Because Levi lives every moment with the uncertainty of whether he’ll make it to the next.

And even though they are in Mitras, the safest spot in the walls. He still can’t get himself to sleep on the bed.

Habits from his past catch up to him. Unseen, unexpected tragedies have always found him. They have made him fearful, and it's indeed this fear instilled deep within him that makes him competent as a soldier..

And then there’s Mae too. He knows her back hurts from sitting in the cart all day long. And he wants her to have a good rest, he wants her to have the entire bed.

It's one of the ways he expresses his love for her. By always keeping her needs above his.

“The chair is good enough for me,” He speaks with diligence. And Mae finds the sincerity in his voice suffocating. She almost wants to scoff, but she also doesn't want to start a fight, this late at night.

Only married couples who can’t stand each other sleep separately.

And she wistfully watches, as he puts the towel aside, his hair now dried. She notices the exhaustion in his eyes and the slight slouch of his shoulders.

She’s told him how necessary good sleep is, for a soldier like him. She’s told him how bad sleeping on the chair is for his posture and his health. And she also set up a whole routine for him to follow before bed. To help him with his insomnia.

But he probably doesn’t even care enough to remember it. Let alone follow it.

Everything in this relationship feels so one-sided, it's exhausting.

And defeated, she flops down on the bed. Pushing herself in the corner, just in case Levi changes his mind and wants to sleep on the bed as well.

Goodnight, she wants to say to him. But it feels futile.

Little does she know Levi looks so exhausted, because he’s stayed awake a couple nights, to complete all his work. So that he can make it here.

And when he looks over to her sleeping figure, his face softens.

She looks so adorable, huddled up in a fuzzy blanket with just her head sticking out. He can’t help but make his way towards her.

The desire of being closer to her seems both illogical yet unquenchable. But he doesn’t want to go overboard like he once did, he doesn’t want to get lost in the current of his feelings and do something he will regret. And most of all he doesn’t want to hurt her in any way.

Because he has never been good at anything gentle. He’s scared that he’ll touch her and she’ll shatter at the strength his hand holds. That someday he’ll touch her and she’ll disappear. Making all his fears come to fruition.

So his hands quake as they extend towards her cheek, as if she is a precious imagery that will distort the moment he touches her.

Erwin’s words still ring in his head loud and clear.

And he wonders if he’s being too selfish, by still keeping her around when he’ll never be able to provide her the type of life he wants her to live. He wonders if he’s being too cruel to her, when he knows that their story will end grimly either way.

And the end is surely near, with how things have been going the past couple of days.

Mae’s stopped pecking his cheek, she’s stopped her playful banter, and she’s stopped telling him random things about her day,

She’s already unhappier. And the decision to move the headquarters elsewhere has been made final.

She’ll end up leaving, disappointed by him. That’s what’s most probable now. And at this point Levi knows he’s so attached, that it's going to hurt twice as bad.

But still, he likes to think that he doesn’t regret his decision to be with her.

Because he doesn’t want to lose her just yet, even if he is meant to lose her somewhere along the way. He doesn’t want to go back to being 2 strangers at a bar, with a knotted past. Even though their time together is waning out.

One day, these fleeting memories are all he’ll have of her.

And so he decides that today, he’ll finally kiss her cheek too. He’s wanted to do it since forever. Ever since the day she first pecked him.

But he hardly had the courage to ask her for it when she’s wide awake. His shyness always got the best of him. But now she’s sleeping, peacefully like a baby.

And so he walks over to her, and gently scoops her into his arms. Placing her in the center of the bed. Perfectly tucking her in the blanket again.

And so he waits a little longer, admiring this moment and how peacefully she rests. And then he squats down.

And his lips hover over her cheek for a little while, before they finally land and kiss on it tenderly.

________________

The preparations for the wedding look elaborate.

A big field lays decorated, lush with green grass. Tables are lined up, covered with a silk tablecloth. And the chairs are decorated with white ruffles too. A red carpet is stretched out on the grass. And in the center, is the wedding altar. Its pillars, decorated with vines and flowers. And a delicate white net dangling from its top.

It's quite cold though, but nothing that the people of Mitras aren’t used to. The sky is relatively clear. And flurries of white clouds float around in the clear blues. Perfectly complimenting the white roses, used in the decorations.

Everything looks so heavenly, and Mae feels out of place when she sees it all.

A part of her finds it hard to believe that this could be her, getting married here instead. With such a fancy arrangement, and nobility as guests.

She wonders if she made the right choice that day. By picking Levi over everything else.

And Levi walks beside her, badgered with guilt as well.

He can see the way her eyes sparkle, dazed by all the luxury around her. This was the type of life Mae could have lived. The type of life he can never provide.

And guilt badgers in his gut once again. He feels like he has cheated her, given her too much false hope.

“Mae,” he lets out a sigh. Voice heavy and hesitant. “I need to tell you something.”

And he doesn’t know why he is bringing this up right now, at this wedding that they are supposed to enjoy. Maybe it's the remorse clawing inside him, and maybe it's the fact that he could possibly never make her this happy.

Silence stretches between them. It's almost been 3 months since they’ve started dating, and things seem to have mellowed down.

Mae doesn’t want to be needy, and Levi always wants to give her space. But hope still fills her eyes when she hears his voice. And his gaze softens, ever so subtly.

“Go ahead, Levi,” she mutters, a tad bit excited. It's one of the few times when Levi initiates something by himself. And she hopes it's something about the type of marriage they’d have.

“Erwin is thinking of moving the headquarters elsewhere.” Levi states with his usual nonchalance. It’s something he’s practiced a thousand times before the mirror now.

And the silence that unfolds is a stiff one.

Mae looks down at the ground, with a hard glare.

And Levi looks down as well, steepling his fingers. He can sense the shift in her mood. It's a mix of grieving, disappointment and frustration. And she likes to not be bothered when her mood is sour.

So he remains quiet, giving her the space to ponder. Plus he doesn’t really know what to say to make things better. He knows he’s a pain in the ass. He knows there isn't much he can provide for her, in comparison to Ivan .

And he also knows their future isn’t too bright. It’s something he’d guessed from the start.He just hopes she doesn’t regret being with him, for whatever time their destiny allowed.

And Mae feels a heaviness settle in her heart.

She’s always longing for him. Longing to talk to him. Longing to spend more time with him. Longing that somewhere, his hand will find hers, and lead her to someplace better. And he’s always withdrawing from her. Withdrawing from her touches. Withdrawing from her wishes. And withdrawing from the vulnerability that a relationship brings.

And if only he was brave enough to give her any sort of explanation, she would tell him that distance will never stop her from loving him.

The beautiful decorations around her only feel suffocating. All she needs is a few moments of peace in Levi’s arms. She’s battered and exhausted. Sometimes she doesn’t understand how she finds the strength to face the world.

And she wishes she could hold on to his hand.

But she knows Levi hates any form of public affection. Or scratch that, she knows he hates affection in itself. It's been 3 months already, and he’s never held her hand, even in the privacy of his chambers.

It’s exhausting, to be stuck in this loop of wanting and withdrawing. It feels like she’s all alone in this. But unknowingly. yet as always, Levi stands right beside her, in the same boat, with the same troubles.

And if only she ever said something she would know that her comfort matters more to him, more than his own apprehensions and nervousness.

Ivan stands in the distance, looking over a few decorations next to the altar. His jet black tuxedo stands out, in the greens of the grass, and all the white the servants wear. And Mae needs a distraction she tells herself. Her mind is drained, thinking of Levi night and day.

And Levi can simply follow, as she starts walking towards Ivan instead.

He’s tall and fair, just like he’s always been. He turns towards Mae and flashes her a smile. His eyes sparkling blue,in all the sunlight.

They start talking about the wedding preparations, and a certain vigor weaves into Mae’s tone. She tells him how wonderful the arrangement looks. And she also keeps her hand on his upper arm, when he tells her how exhausted he is.

And Levi stands behind her, shifting his weight from one foot to another. Seething with something feral.

He thought she didn’t like speaking to anyone when she’s feeling low. And yet she’s speaking to Ivan with such enthusiasm. She wasn’t speaking to him this way a few minutes before.

Jealousy curls in the pit of his stomach. But he deserves it, he tells himself. He deserves all her silences. And he deserves all the pain her actions inflict.

Time ticks by slow, and somehow the conversation shifts. All of a sudden Mae is introducing him to Ivan.

And Ivan smiles at him, extending a hand forward out of courtesy.

But Levi just glares at it. His insecurities make him bitter .

The moment stretches, the tension palpable.

“Levi!” Mae elbows him, and throws him a disapproving look. And he wallows even deeper in his insecurities, knowing he has disappointed her even more.

Mae asks Ivan where Mr. Mendes is, and Ivan points towards the huge mansion built on the other side of the ground. They talk for a few more moments, and then Mae bids her goodbye, and starts walking towards the mansion.

And Levi just simply follows, unsure whether she even wants him around.

The mansion is big, even more intimidating up close. And its door lays wide open, as handmaidens and cleaners jog in and out.

And Mae gasps, awestruck as she steps inside. The interior is made of gleaming polished wood and the paneled walls run tall. And every piece of furniture is so intricate, it could be placed in a museum.

Her eyes glance around, wide in wonder.

Ivan’s marrying the daughter of the noble he was treating. She must be a gift to keep Mr. Mendes and Ivan around. It's a business deal of sorts- you stick around and treat my family, from our hereditary disease. And I share my wealth with you and give you my daughter.

Things have surely played out really well for Ivan.

And she hopes Mr. Mendes has had the heart to forgive her, too, as she lingers outside his door. Timid, and doubtful of her decision to see him.

Levi stands behind her like a shadow, unable to meet her eye, but unshakeable as ever. Her heart eases a little, his mere sight providing her comfort. Her fingers reach out to his wrist, and he looks up hesitant.

“Levi,” His name comes out so sweet from her lips. “Can you wait here for a bit? He was really unhappy with me the last time I saw him, and just in case he’s still mad, I don’t want him to take his anger out on you.”

Levi visibly softens. The self-inflicted wounds on his pride sooth a little. “Just remember that I’m right outside the door. Do call me if anything feels off… Please” he adds. Hoping she doesn’t hesitate.

And she nods, as she knocks on the door, and steps inside.

The room is small, with a bed, a study desk and a wardrobe. And Mr.Mendes sits on a rocking chair next to the window. Staring at the wedding arrangements.

It's been a few months since she last saw him. And how ever rude he might have been to her in asking her hand for marriage. She still has a fatherly bond with him.

“Mr Mendes.” She calls out, and slowly he turns his head towards her. Age has touched him harshly, his wrinkles fold deep and his eyes seem vacant and dull.

“Mae.” He mutters, eyes squinting as he throws her a glance. “You’re here too,” he states, albeit blandly.

And she looks down to the floor, scrunching the fabric of her skirt in nervousness. He doesn’t seem too happy to see her, and once again she feels unwanted.

The moment stretches, the silence is vacant. Mr.Mendes goes back to looking at the window, and Mae focuses on the floor beneath her. A little embarrassed, and guilty. Wondering if he’s still angry at her for not accepting his offer.

The tension only eases when he breaks into a fit of violent coughs.

On instinct, Mae picks up a glass of water kept on his side table, and rushes towards him. One hand on his back and the other on the glass, as she helps him chug down the water.

And he too rests his hands on her shoulder, as his coughs make him jerk forward. It brings back a ton of memories. And she finds her eyes getting watery. She never knew she would get so distant with him one day.

His coughs begin to subside, and she continues to pat his back, just like the old days. But sadly things are way different today, and a few things have changed in a way that they can’t be mended.

“What shabby clothes are you wearing?” Mr. Mendes remarks as soon as his cough settles. A scoff paints itself on his face. And he pushes himself away from her.

“They're not shabby, it's a fresh pair,” her voice teeters on the edge of a plea, and she looks down on the ground making herself small.

“Look at the life you;re living, and coming here to my son;s wedding, dressed in nothing but rags.” he spits out. His words hurt, her heart shudders. She feels insecure.

“I’m proud of the choices I;ve made, I have no regrets.” she squeaks out

“No regrets,” his face scrunches in disgust. “Are you happy then? Living in one of the poorest neighborhoods in Jinae. Working countless jobs. Settling for a good for nothing man.” His words are like venom, fuelled with anger and frustration. And he’s so weakened by his emotions, he doesn’t realize he’s yelling.

“EXCUSE ME,” Mae counters, her temper flaring up too. “He is Humanity's strongest, a respected and valued soldier in the Survey Corps. Don’t disrespect him like that.”

Because as much as things aren’t going well with him, he’s still hers. And she wouldn’t let anyone speak shit about him.

Mr. Mendes laughs, a bitter mock. “What good is that title to you, it only puts him with more risks and responsibilities making the chances of him dying higher?”

His taunt falls like a slap on her face. She feels weak, ridden of words.

Yeah, what good is that title to her? Especially when he hardly has any time for her.

“Your silence tells how much you’re disappointed in your reckless decision.” He reels back to looking at the window,” Humanity’s Strongest huh! Damn sure that title gets the underground thug all the ladies in the world… Unbelievable how a criminal gang leader can turn into a hero.“ He curses and his words echo through the thin walls.

And all of a sudden Mae’s slapped not only with Mr Mendes's wrath, but also with the secrets of Levi’s past. She finds it hard to breathe, as if the wind has been knocked right out of her lungs.

It’s the last tick, the water has gone over the bridge.

The information lays heavy on her mind, slowly the pieces of him fall together. The way he keeps a knife hidden in his clothes. And the way he knew nothing about the world when he first met her.

A thug from the Underground? Levi never told her anything about that?

“He’s no match for my son.” Mr. Mendes mutters, more to himself. And tears do well. Everything looks blurry, her heart feels dizzy. She feels defeated.

“Why are you so quiet now?” he taunts. “Did reality finally knock some sense into you?”

And Mae feels helpless, not knowing how to counter something she’s been told nothing about.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, more to herself. For being so foolish in her love. For enduring all the shit Levi put her through once again. For settling for something so… unworthy. And most of all, for loving herself less than him… once again.

Her shoulders feel heavy and her knees feel weak as she turns away.

She doesn’t even know whether the claims made by Mr. Mendes are true, or just an accusation made to mess with her. But that just proves how little she knows about Levi, and how little he cares about her.

And with the little strength in her heart she pushes the door open.

In front of her stands Levi.

He didn’t tell her this.

He didn’t tell her anything about him.

And Levi’s eyes fall down. His facade has fallen, soiled in the dirt. All that remains now, are the parts of him that have always been hated. The parts of him that are hard to love and difficult to accept.

And he feels bare, naked.

The silence is loud and sharp. Piercing like the barbed wire wrapped around Mae’s heart. And she looks at him, with disappointment knitted in her brows

Because Levi is the calm before the storm. The smell of fresh linen sheets, and the harsh rain that cleanses everything. He is stillness and chaos. With the stars in his eyes, and the world on his shoulders. A paradox so unusual, that it's a wonder on earth.

But most of all, Levi is the person she has loved with all her heart and soul. And yet, she doesn’t recognise him anymore.

He feels like a stranger. And their entanglement feels like nothing but a burden.

Questions in her mind erupt like fire. And they would sear Levi alive

She searches his slate gray eyes. The same eyes she’s utterly fallen in love with. Hoping he gives her a single explanation. Hoping he tells her that she didn’t make the wrong decision.

That he still loves her, and she can still have the fairytale relationship that she once dreamt of.

Butas always he gives her nothing. He isn’t even able to meet her eyes. Because what awaits him there, is disappointment. His biggest fear.

Her lips tremble, her heart shudders. The tiredness of all the fights she’s never had with him boggs her down.

The prolonged silence speaks tons. She hates him for keeping this from her, and he hates the way it came out to her.

And she can only pick away the pieces of her self esteem, and walk away from him. To a place where she doesn’t feel like such a fool.

The grandeur of the mansion suffocates her. She finds beauty everywhere, in every corner of the place, but in herself. And her eyes blur as she stumbles away from him.

To say, they are only a few feet away, but miles lie between their hearts.

And Mae doesn’t understand when things started going downhill, but now things have crashed.

In an hour, the wedding bells ring. The guests are peacefully seated, and she stands at the corner, barely managing to suppress her sadness.

The bride walks in, dressed in a beautiful white dress, holding her father’s hand. Ivan stands at the other end, with a smile on his face.

And Mae watches them exchange vows wistfully,

The union of two souls. The most beautiful of moments unfold in front of her. Everything is here, flowers, grand decorations, elaborate palanquins. But her lover isn’t. Her lover has left her disappointed.

Often she dreamt of her marriage with Levi as well. With him looking as charismatic as ever in a black coat and the cravat that she stitched for him, a testament of where they once were and how much they've been through. Together.

But now she doesn’t even know of their future 2 days from now.

They’ve lost each other even whilst walking together.

The wedding ends, the bride and groom kiss. The guests clap, showering the newly weds with appreciation. And then Ivan and his now wife walk away hand in hand.

In the corner, Mae sees Mr.Mendes as well. He watches everything with an unreadable look on his face.

Slowly the guests start leaving as well, after exchanging their pleasantries. The field starts becoming vacant. But Mae remains unmoving. The heaviness in her heart is unsettling.

The sun sets, and the sky turns navy. Darkness takes over. And she feels so alone, when she looks at the stretches of land with no one but her.

Far in the distance, the lights in the mansion burn bright. And its glass windows shine golden due the warmth that illuminates from inside.

They must be really happy, Mae concludes as she walks towards the altar. Her back finds one of the four pillars, and she slumps down to the floor. Eyes struck at the podium, where the priest read the holy vows.

Everything around only makes her doubt everything she had with Levi.

The ache in her heart never lessens. And she sulks, silently fuming in the aftermath.

She tried coming close to him, but the distances between them never lessened. She tried to be the bigger person, always but things never got better.

She questions everything. His words, his actions. And the moments between them felt so genuine.

Their bond was so healthy, so strong. They had each other’s back through the toughest times. He was the closest thing she had to a family. And she thinks about how much they could have grown together if he simply tried.

But he never cared to begin with. He was only acting out of pity.

It starts to rain, an untimely rain. And tears slip past her eyes too. She feels like she’s been trying to keep them in forever.

Cold wind blows towards her, and she shivers, unused to the harsh winter of Mitras. Hours pass by awfully slow. But she doesn’t go back to the hotel. She doesn’t want to meet the person who’s caused her so much anguish.

Footsteps echo off the marble floor.

Ivan walks in visibly disturbed too. Partially drenched in the rain.

“Mae…” his voice trails off, a little surprised to see her sitting at the altar, hours after the wedding “What are you doing here?... Do you not have a room to go back to?”

The question hurts. “I’m not THAT poor. Ivan.” she snaps. “I’m just here because I don’t want to see Levi right now.”

“Oh,” Ivan sighs. Not knowing whether he should pry any further. And he too drops down on the pillar adjacent to hers. Tired.

“You love him a little too much don’t you?”

And Mae sighs, another tear slipping past her eyes at his words. “Yeah, that seems to be my biggest problem.“ She hugs herself closer, attempting to warm herself in the cold. “I love him so much, it hurts.”

The downpour drowns out the silences. But it does very little to drown the sorrow in the air.

And Mae looks up at Ivan curious. Tiredness weighs heavy on his eyes. It’s the night of his wedding. And yet he’s here sitting alone.

“Did you consummate the marriage?” The question leaves her mouth, thoughtlessly. It’s way too blunt, but none of them have the energy for formalities.

“Yeah… it was… fine,” he speaks slowly, hesitating. “I can already tell, this marriage isn’t going to be good.” And then he sighs, exhausted, as he cards his fingers through his hair.

Silence settles, the wind blows. And the both of them suffer in the cold, not wanting to return to the warmth of a home.

A sad smile forms on Mae’s face. She’s felt so awfully lonely the past few days. Sometimes, even when Levi is right next to her. “Well, if it makes you feel better, my relationship isn’t going great either.”

And Ivan’s eyes widen. “Why do you say that?” he asks, genuinely concerned. Because he’s seen Levi and Mae, he thought they’d be the type of couple that would never break apart.

“Where do I even start,” she bitterly chuckles. “Look at him…He doesn’t even come to check up on me, Ivan. It’s so cold, and I’ve been missing for hours, shivering in the rain. I'm the one who has a reason to be upset. And yet I’m the one who’s still wondering why he isn’t coming to me? He hardly has any time for me…It’s always like this with him, so painfully one sided. I doubt he’d shed even a single tear, if I end up dying one day...”

And Ivan doesn;t know what to say. It’s not like he’s some relationship expert anyway.

Hell, this marriage is his first romantic relationship ever.

And so he sits quiet, dwelling on his own inexperience. And the silence only forces Mae to relive all the things that never happened in her and Levi’s relationship.

“I think I should end it.” The thought has been bogging her for weeks now. And now she’s hit her limit. “He doesn’t love me Ivan,” her voice breaks, and she sniffs to hold her tears back. “He doesn’t lov-”

“Oh shut up!” Ivan huffs, cutting her off. Because even though he is unsure of relationships and everything happening in his life as well, he knows that Levi loves Mae. It’s the only thing he’s sure of, at this point in his life.

“Are you fucking blind? Do you even see the way he looks at you?...” He grumbles almost frustrated with Mae’s blabbering. “I’ve always been so scared of him, but when he looks at you, his lips quirk up, just a little bit. And his eyes soften, as if the most precious thing in the world is now in front of him…. When he looks at you, he looks human… So what shit are you going on about?... And you haven’t even felt the intensity of his stare, anytime I walk next to you. I face it, I face the looks he throws at me. Sometimes it's a surprise that I’m not dead already.”

“Then why doesn’t he do anything about it?’ Mae’s head begins to hurt, and frustration lays heavy in every word she spouts out. “It's been three months, Ivan. Goddamn three months and we haven’t even kissed, or held hands, or been on a date… Yesterday I asked him to sleep on the bed next to me and he slept on the chair instead.”

“But Mae?” Ivan rebuttals almost innocently. “If I'd be in a relationship with a girl I really liked, I think I’d be like that too… Extremely hesitant and shy.” he answers truthfully. “And if he doesn’t make time for you, then why is he here to attend my wedding?”

All the loopholes in her thinking slowly start to resurface. And she frowns, her nose flaring. “He does make time for… it’s just that nothing even remotely romantic ever happens in that time?”

“So why don’t you tell him how you feel? What use is complaining about all this to me, when only Levi can give you what you need?”

A quiet gasp escapes Mae’s lips. And Ivan’s questions only force her to ponder over her own insecurities.

She’s always felt like the second choice. With Mr. Mendes, sometimes also with Levi.

And so she always tries to be on her best behavior, even when the other person is being intolerable.

“I don’t know, don’t wanna be a burden.” Her voice frays, and she’s grateful that it's the middle of the night and Ivan can’t see the pure destruction on her face, when she battles her own demons. “I feel like if I ever complain, then people will get annoyed by me and wouldn’t want to stick around anymore.”

“That’s not how relationships work, Mae…” Ivan mutters solemnly. “ This rushed marriage… I never wanted it. But how could I not listen to my dying father’s wish? The father who has done so much for me?...Sometimes he still dreams of you and the perfect family he envisioned with you.”

“Did I really upset him by saying no?”

“That's okay, you can’t make everyone happy... Old age has made him childish. But that doesn’t mean I abandon him. Nor does it diminish the value of all the good times I’ve spent with him.”

Ivan speaks the truth, it lays heavy on Mae;s mind. And slowly her flaws come to light as well.

“How did Mr.Mendes know about Levi’s past?” She changes the topic.

“He told me to ask around back when I worked in the Corps… Obviously I noticed the guy you would stare at with such dreamy eyes, I would be blind to not notice… And when I told father about it, he called you for lunch too often. Then your health got worse and he told me to look into it… Almost everyone in the Survey Corps knew that he was an underground thug, how did you not know?”

“Levi is a private person. I didn’t want to pry. I thought he’d tell me himself, when he felt comfortable.”

Mae’s eyes turn moist again, there’s an ever growing tightness in her throat that makes it harder for her to speak. “I can’t believe I dreamt so much of this... I thought we’d be perfect for each other, but look at me now... And look at you Ivan. you and your bride looked perfect as you walked hand in hand…. You got exactly what I dreamt of, whilst I sit here, crying, with the remnants of my broken love life.”

The rain becomes harsher, almost turning to a storm. And a bittersweet smile forms on Ivan’s face, as he ponders over Mae’s words.

“Yeah… Me and my wife are complete in every sense. She’s pretty and I have a well-earning job and a reputable career. Our future is secure here in Mitras, and we have both time and money, we’ll never run short of… And yet, despite all the time we have, we don’t wish to spend it with each other. We speak, but not with our heart. We are bound, but not by love.”

And when Mae looks up at Ivan, she sees the same pain reflect in his eyes, that she saw when he lost his mother. The pain of loss and unhappiness. “We are complete in every sense. We have everything that one needs to be happy. But our love…. Our love is incomplete…”

And a final tear slips past her eyes as Ivan continues. “ You and Levi might not have anything compared to us, but your love is complete.”

This is one of my favourite chapters in this arc, because of all the drama that goes on.

In the previous chapters I felt like it was just Levi and Mae, and everything was revolving around them, so I thought it was becoming kind of monotonous and boring. Which is why I've tried to add more characters this time.

Also I hope no one is surprised by the fact that Mae didn't know about Levi's past yet. (I think that was one of the main reasons for their misunderstandings, because she didn't know of his background yet)

(If anyone is wondering, then Mae will start talking things out with Levi after this, as she is slowly realizing her faults as well.)

So yeah! I'm excited to hear your thoughts, opinions, feedbacks. As always I'm open to criticism as well. (don't be shy lol)

I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I'll see you soon with chapter 20!

Taglist: @keijikunn @evas-leslas @leviackermanmyhero245 (message me if you want to be added)

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