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#its so fucking funny every morning seeing one comment go
b0tster · 6 months
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every morning i wake up and every morning i delete pathetic lil pissbaby youtube comments that say something like this its honestly a highlight of my morning
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elexaria · 2 months
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living with ghoap was nice. two big burly fellas to keep you company, to reach the top shelves in the kitchen for you, to absolutely plough you into the mattress when you couldnt itch your own scratch for once. they were good lads.
but there were countless times where they’d be away for work, so you knew you couldnt be fully dependent on them. they knew that too, so they weren’t exactly going to object to you having fun without them. so long as you were happy and safe, they were content.
but fuck, the men out there are absolutely horrible to deal with. sleazy, there’s just… no ability to have any kind of banter with these things that think only with their cocks.
until you meet kilgöre alexander.
he’s gigantic, his shoulders probably share the same width as mount everest’s base. easily, kilgöre is the tallest man you’ve ever been with. he dwarfs simon in size, which is very telling in itself.
it’s hard to pry away at who kilgöre is as a person. he’s austrian, likes keeping himself to himself. absolutely refuses to tell you what he does for a living, because it’s on a need to know basis. “sounds like something a terrorist would say.” you jokingly coo one night at dinner, smirking as he rolls his foggy blue eyes at your comment. “har har, very funny.” he mockingly says, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly.
he’s one of the best things that’s happened to you in a while. he doesn’t know about the particular living arrangement you share with simon and johnny— like he says, it’s on a need to know basis. plus, you haven’t boned either of them since you met this fella. ghoap know what’s up, but they’re not bothered by it. they’re just glad to see you doing well for yourself. “ye have a glow about ye, love.” johnny coos in your ear one day, smirking as he watches you fluster and flounder around the kitchen, trying to make excuses. “it’s the vitamins i’m taking” this and “i’ve quit dairy” that. he knows the truth, simon know its too.
but there’s one thing that makes the attachment to this man absolutely unbearable.
he disappears from time to time.
some days it’s only a couple of days, maybe a couple of weeks at a push. absolutely no contact.
he swears it’s to do with his line of work, that one day he’ll be able to tell you everything. but for now, he asks just for one thing.
“just… wait for me.”
it’s been almost a month with no contact from kilgöre, and it feels like every morning with no text, no nothing, you have a growing pit inside of you that can’t stop gnawing at you, eating you up whole. what the fuck? what could he possibly do for a career that makes it so he goes days without checking his phone? it makes you feel sick to your stomach. what if he’s in a gang or something?
besides, how the fuck can you keep on waiting for someone who you don’t even know is even alive? for all you know, this behemoth of a man has been hog tied and dumped at the bottom of a lake with cinder blocks strapped to his feet. how are you supposed to wait for someone who shows no signs of leaving or coming back?
“that light in yer eyes has dulled.” johnny remarks one evening, a sad smile on his lips. your eyebrows knit together, feigning confusion. “huh? oh, yeah. uh… it’s the gluten intolerance i reckon.” you murmur to yourself, flashing a weak smile to consolidate his inquisitive gaze. “i’m fine, though.”
simon huffs as he leers next to you, skilfully flaying pieces of fish with a pensive look. both you and johnny glance at him, which only makes him grunt in response. you furrow your eyebrows at him, urging him to elaborate on what the pressing issue is.
“we reckon shit’s hit the fan with that new bloke of yours.” simon bluntly replies as he wipes off the chopping board with a damp cloth, hands gently scooping up guts, scales and delicate fish bones to dispose of. you scoff, eyes never leaving the cuts of fish meat that rest on a plate, waiting to be delicately battered and fried up.
“whatev—“
“and i know you, you’ll try and refute the truth that i know what’s going on. that we know what’s going on. so, none of this nonsense, alright? what’s up?”
johnny and simon silently watch you, their simultaneous waiting for any reaction from you making your skin crawl. at first, you scowl and huff. shifting your weight from foot to foot as you become defensive. simon cuts you off again, “none of that bollocks. tell the truth.”
you give in. on bated breath, you explain the whole situation. how kilgöre is the kind of man you had never expected to fall for, how he had managed to steal your attention even while being so elusive and secretive. how you desperately want him to come back to you, like he said he would.
johnny frowns, and simon nods in your direction, wiping his blood stained hands with the damp cloth. “fishy hands.” he murmurs, wiggling his fingers to prove he can’t comfort you with a hug. johnny nods, swiftly making his way around the kitchen island to come give you a warm hug. it’s a solid hug, one you’d never object to having. johnny’s large hands rub circles to your back, his bearded chin resting against your shoulder as he sways gently.
simon stands behind johnny, holding eye contact with you as he continued to carefully clean his hands. he raises his eyebrows in thought, before glancing down at his fingernails as he begins to meticulously clean underneath them to rid his skin of all things fish.
“this… kilgöre bloke. i reckon if he’s the one, he’s worth waitin’ for. but don’t think for a second he should get away with leavin’ you this long without so much as a text, yeah? rip ‘im a new one when he comes back.” he advises, glancing back up at you with a slight smirk when he hears you chuckle, your laugh strained with emotion.
he steps closer, carefully tilting your chin up so you can meet his gaze better. he gently wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “if he’s the man you think he is, he’ll explain everything if you ask him to. and if he does? great. if he doesn’t?” you wince at the idea, frowning.
he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your brow.
“then he’s a bloody eejit, as our johnny boy would say.”
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b0nten · 5 months
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BLUEBELLS, YOURS TRULY.
[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷。 albeit rarely, rindou overthinks, and frequently, ran doesn’t think too much.
[NOTES] ˚⁀➷。 this is like the “backstory” for the ring. MAYBE i’ll turn it into a multiple part. i also put it in the timeline where everyone is happy because i really love everyone being friends. wrote it because rays’s version destroyed me !!!!!!!!!!!
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he spins the ring on his finger. he slides it off. he looks at it. he lets it hang from his neck, on the chain. he sighs.
“now what the hell is up with you?” barging in, ran asks. “who shat in your cereal every morning for the past two weeks?” he says, opening the kitchen cupboard to take — funny enough — some cereal out.
“i’m not in the mood, ran.” his younger brother spits back, head falling against the wooden table.
“hey now, there’s something really wrong with you if you’re acting like .. this.” pointing at him, he sits down, fat bowl of cereal clashing against the dark block, spilling some milk onto it. “now, spill.” with mouth full, he tries to choke out the words, spoon in his brothers face the moment he gulps down the first mouthful.
“you’re gross sometimes.” rindou just sighs, looking away.
“what’s with the ring?” ignoring the insult, the lanky haitani just continues his questioning. “by the way, the blue doesn’t look that bad on you.”
“it’s mine, and i got a matching one for y/n.” the other explains, “thanks, by the way. it was her idea to dye it like this.”
“you wanna propose to her?” his older brother asks, chewing loudly. “y’know we’re still just teenagers?”
“no shit, big head.” rolling his eyes, rindou feels the exasperation dig its roots deeper into his brain. “i’m not proposing. yet. but i don’t know if i should give it to her.” he finally says, letting ran in on his worries.
“and why not? what’s that? cartier, right?”
“no brand can escape your gaze, you’re really unbelievable.”
“thanks, bro, love you too.” as he swallows his last spoonful, ran winks.
“not in a good way.” the younger sibling announces, earning a displeased look from his brother.
“now you’re the annoying one. fuck’s going with you two?” ran finally snaps, trying not look worried. after all, he loves his brother, but they don’t do that kind of talking.
“she’s leaving next week” rindou finally manages to choke out.
“what? what do you mean?” his brother asks, taken aback by the sudden information.
“her student visa’s expired. she’s gotta go back home until gets it renewed.”
it pains him to even think about it. he hasn’t eaten in almost fourteen days, ever since he found out. but what pains him even more is how excited you are about going back home. about going away from him.
he thinks it’s selfish, because he knows how much you’ve missed your parents and how much you’ve waited for a holiday that’s long enough to return.
“if the flights take four days in total and i want to stay for two weeks, then i’d rather not go anymore.” you always said. “i want to spend as much time as possible, without having to rush anything, y’know?
but maybe sometimes love is all about being selfish, loving someone with your whole heart. maybe he wants to never let you leave without him. maybe he can’t let you leave without him because he can’t stand not being an 8 minute subway ride away from you.
“don’t tell me you got some of those control issues, the pretty tiktok girls say they’re not cute at all…” ran comments, dodging an uppercut by a mere second.
“can you take me seriously for once? i think she wants to break up with me, she called me over today saying we have to talk.” rin frowns, blond-blue bangs covering his tired eyes. “i shouldn’t have believed that tiktok reading that said good news are coming my way.”
“you’re so fucking dumb, lord have mercy.”
“excuse me, ran?”
“you’re excused. let’s get this straight: does it really matter to you wether she’s oceans away or in meguro? what do you think she’s gonna do, break up with you only to return in three months and see you everywhere? do you really think y/n’s that kind of girlfriend? throw away three years BECAUSE OF A VISA?! fuck outta here with that insecure crap, rin. i raised you better than that.”
on the inside, ran smiles. oh, how he loves knocking sense into his younger brother. truly the best activity.
“now go and talk to her.”
rindou hesitates.
“i won’t say it nicely the second time around.” the older one threatens, and rindou jolts up from his chair and bolts through the door, house slippers still on, door wide open. before ran can say anything else, rindou’s voice echoes from the staircase into the kitchen:
“i’ll buy a new pair when i get back, don’t start bitching, please! i’ve got a girl i have to convince not to break up with me!”
his older brother laughs as he pulls out his phone.
sister in law
(16:22) he’s on his way.
then, a ping fills the empty space.
sister in law
(16:23) already talked to mikey. everything’s going great.
(16:23) love you, big head
(16:23)🫰
maybe ran’s not gonna tell you the reason rindou is running like a maniac through minato ward right now.
ugh, is his head really that big?
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tagging: @h4nman BECAUSE YOU MADE ME CRY😡😡😡 ; @sirachano0dles <3 i might start a taglist if i make this into a multiple part fic?!?
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evilwickedme · 10 months
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This wasn't asked for because nobody in their right mind would ask for this but this is a fic rec list of fics I cannot stop rereading
Just started yet another reread of Inimitable Verse by deniigiq and I fully plan on rereading their into the multiverse series which occasionally crosses over also - this is a Spider-Man/team red focused series, think comics canon infused early mcu-spidey since only homecoming had come out for a non substantial amount of time they were working on the series and the daredevil stuff is explicitly tv show AND comics. Also the multiverse series is how I got into Murderdock and therefore how I got into Spider Gwen
Unpretty's Sorrowful And Immaculate Hearts series which is just a loosely interconnected series of DC fics. My personal favorites are Empty Graves, in which Martha Kent keeps killing time travelers trying to kill baby! Clark; any of their clois fics but especially Third Wheel; and Anti-Social, which is a social media fic mostly about Tim and Bruce that made me cry laughing. Catch Bruce trying to get Walmart's employees to unionize. Also shout out to unpretty's only fic with Jason in it, it looks awesome but is tragically incomplete
This particular Reverse Robin AU which put in the work to reverse every single younger generation and is chef's kiss I LOVE this version of Tim he's wild
Both of Shoalsea's fics are in constant rotation for me I talk about Into The Brighter Night all the time in the tags of reblogs and stuff it truly lives in my head rent free. Anyway Tim gets kidnapped by aliens and the batfam have to watch as yj98 saves him and it's angsty and funny and such a good take on what could have been if the new 52 hadn't happened. And Compassion Builds No House is about Tim and Pru from Red Robin. Ugh they're both so good
Speaking of Clois (I did you've just forgotten this by now) brilliant (like a confession) by kathkin (penny-anna on the hellsite) is so fucking good I'm. Okay. Anyway it'll be listed as inspiration if/when I finally post my two person love triangle fic for them
I'm too anxious to catch up on this before it's done but jumble sale chic is hands down the best spideydevil fic series despite and because of the omegaverse
Make A Little Birdhouse In Your Soul is my favorite take on Jason, period, and has a lot of fantastic Damian stuff going on too. It's updating every few weeks still! Sometimes more often! I love you bacondoughnut it's me JustGail the person who will not stop commenting on your fic you're stuck with me forever
I lied above Rumspringa Murderdock is what got me into Murderdock but that series is second place. I found this one while scrolling through the tv show's mattfoggy tag, thinking I was safe
Speaking of Murderdock mattfoggy, The Lawyer All the Wickedness was written early on in spider-gwen's history and so diverges from canon really early in ways that I think are super interesting and creative
Oh also straight on 'til morning by merils (Tumblr url mamawasatesttube) does SUCH a great job unpacking Kon's trauma and building up healthy relationships around him including a budding timkon romance and yeah it makes me sad and happy at the same time
We're getting into poisonivory territory so just trust if you like the pairing and poisonivory is writing it you'll like it. Ok rapidfire
Like A Handprint On My Heart mattfoggy soulmate au with a twist
Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? Damijon future fic/au. Jon came back from the future when both of them were 19. Demisexual!Damian at its best. Damian's terrified of being abandoned by Jon again and it made my heart hurt
I feel like I've already recommended every JayRoy fic by poisonivory and genuinely I do reread them all, sometimes in order of publication if I'm in a particular mood. Maybe the one I've read most though is I've Got the Feeling You're the Right Thing After All which is about Roy and Jason starting a fwb thing while Roy still harbors old feelings for Dick. Can't see anything going wrong here lmao
Mmm this post is long enough so I'll leave it at just superhero fic for now but I do in fact have the ability to do a whole post just for the Witcher or Leverage so I might do that. Anyway thanks for following me on yet another burst of insanity it will happen again
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Upskirt ch7
Marvel | Starker
Someone has been taking pictures up Peter's skirt when he's not looking and poor Peter has found their blog.
Warnings and tags below
Warnings and tags: femboy!Peter, public sex, teacher/student, romnoncon, virginity kink, virginity loss, cock warming, pain kink, sadism, degradation
Making it home covered in cum was indescribably disgusting, but equally as hot. He felt dirty and used and slutty in a way he didn't know was possible. It was almost better than getting felt up in public.
He was sad when the school week ended. He'd thought he was going to push his teacher into fucking him and it had been so close with Mr. Rogers. Oh well, Monday would be here before too long. In the meantime he could spend his time stalking Mr. Stark's blog and reading all of the nasty comments. It was becoming more popular since people realized that Peter was participating now. There was even a picture of Peter's throat bulging with Mr. Stark's cock in it. He barely had a voice today and every time he tried to speak it made his dick twitch.
It was early morning on Saturday while he stood reading the blog on his phone. He was on his way to Ned's looking for a distraction. The car he was in was empty except for a man who was slumped over sleeping. So he wasn't expecting hands under his skirt caressing his thighs. On reflex he spread his legs and let those hands palms his rapidly growing erection.
"Mr. Stark?" Peter turned his head and sure enough there was his teacher.
"Funny how we keep running into each other like this," he said with a smirk. His thumb found the head of Peter's cock and moaned as he traced circles around it.
"Please," he whined.
"Begging already?" he chuckled. "What was that you're looking at?"
"Nothing." He tried to tuck his phone away in his pocket but Mr. Stark caught his wrist. He locked the screen, but not before his teacher could see it.
"You just love the attention don't you? Is that what you're doing? Riding around hoping someone will come and use you?"
"No, I'm going to a friends house," he argued but his voice was weak. Those hands on his body felt so good. He just wanted to get fucked. He'd settled for the teacher's cock in his mouth as long as it was in him.
"No you're not. You're gonna miss your stop." He pulled Peter's panties to one side. He offered a finger up to Peter's mouth and opened up for them. "Get it good and wet."
His heart raced. Was he really going to... He let himself slobber on it as he practically vibrated with excitement. That wet finger traced his hole before pushing in, all of it at once. Peter whined. It burned but it felt so good. Mr. Stark pulled it in and out, sucking on his neck while he fingered him.
"That's a good whore. You'd let me fuck you anywhere wouldn't you? We're not even hidden now. What's gonna happen when we pull up to the station?"
He didn't have an answer and he didn't care. His mind was all static and he couldn't do anything but moan.
"We'd better move this along if we don't want to run out of time." A second finger pushed at his opening and worked its way in. Peter whined at the burn. It was way too dry. He didn't care. Those fingers moved inside him, stretching him, fucking him, making his whole body tingle.
"Please, more," he moaned.
"Hold on to something, baby."
Peter grabbed onto the pole in front of him with both hands. He whined as Mr. Stark took his fingers out. He heard his zipper come down and he turned to look. His mouth watered at the sight of his cock. He must have planned for this because he'd brought lube and that made it so much better. He'd been wanting to fuck him, too.
A hand held on to his hip. "Is your ass still sore?"
"A little," he whined.
"Good. You earned it didn't you? Turning old men in perverts like this. Look what you did." The end of his cock pushed against his hole.
Peter gasped and the sound turned into a whimper as he just kept pushing. He stretched around it, insides behind forced open, and his cock just kept going, deeper and deeper until it hurt. His legs shook. He held onto the pole as tightly as he could.
"Fuck, that's good," Mr. Stark moaned. "You don't do this often do you?"
"N-never," Peter stuttered, overwhelmed by how full he was.
Mr. Stark grabbed him by his hair. "Are you telling me you've never been fucked before?"
"No, sir. Never."
"That's perfect," Mr. Stark moaned. "Losing your virginity on the subway. You can never deny what a slut you are now, can you? I'm gonna fuck you like one, regardless."
"Please." He gasped, clinging to the pole, as Mr. Stark moved inside him. His cock felt way too big, it was splitting him open, stretching him out, filling him deep in his gut. It had to be, had to be all the way in his stomach. He couldn't think, couldn't speak, just moaned and whined as his teacher rocked him foward and back on his cock, burying himself deep over and and over again. Then the announcement came over the intercom, jarring him out of the trance. They were about to stop.
Mr. Stark wrapped his arm around his waist. "Come on. Keep me warm until we're clear."
Peter mumbled an answer and let the man drag him across the car. He sat down, pulling Peter with him. He moaned in pain and pleasure as he sat all the way down on his dick.
"That's a good boy," Mr. Stark purred. He brushed his hair out of his face. "Look at you. Perfect."
The little bumps in the track, the way the train shook, made it feel so good. He sat, dazed and clinging to his teacher's thighs. The subway slid to a stop and the doors opened.
"Close your mouth, sweetheart. You look like a pervert."
Peter blinked away the haze and tried to straighten himself. He was supposed to get off here to go meet Ned, but he had no desire to. Two women came into their car and passed them by. They went and sat together at the back. Peter whined in frustration.
"Now when has that ever stopped me?" Mr. Stark chuckled in his ear.
"But-"
He grabbed Peter's hips as the subway began to move again. He helped him move, grinding against his lap, fucking himself on his cock. He was barely moving, but with his cock so deep it felt incredible. He covered his mouth with his hands before the sounds could escape. Even if someone heard him, he couldn't stop now. It felt too good. Even when Mr. Stark let go of his hips, he kept moving, grinding down on his cock, squeezing it with his ass. He only stopped when he got too close, edging himself out of fear of being noticed, but unable to stop himself from doing it all over again.
"Such a cock whore," Mr. Stark purred in his ear. "Your little virgin hole feels so good on my cock. You were made to be stuffed weren't you?"
"Yes," he moaned. He felt like he was edging costantly now, there was no stopping it, no breaks, he was so sensitive that just Mr. Stark's cock inside him was enough to make him cum. He didn't even want to cum anymore, he just wanted it to keep going. He wasn't aware of anything happening on the train until it stopped and the other passengers filed off. They were left alone again.
"Please, Mr. Stark! Fuck me please!"
The teacher lifted him off his lap just to turn him around, clinging to the seat back. Mr. Stark stood behind him, holding him with a hand on his hip and one in his hair. The tunnel blurred past. Peter's fingers smudged the window, his breath steamed up the glass.
"Oh fuck," Peter moaned. Mr. Stark fucked him so hard he could barely breathe.
"Need to cum- please," he panted.
"So do it then, slut."
Peter whined. He was trying he really was, but it was like he was stuck. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around his cock. It hurt to touch, but he stroked himself anyway. Still he felt trapped on the edge. All he could do was cry frustrated tears.
"Please, Mr. Stark, I can't."
"Poor thing. Did you get too overstimulated?"
"I don't know- please I need to cum!"
Tony leaned over him, grinding his hips, forcing his cock in too deep. "You won't be able to until you calm down. All of that grinding on my cock broke you. It's you what you deserve for being a whore."
"Please, it hurts," Peter whined.
"Fuck," Mr. Stark moaned in his ear. He held his hips, cumming deep in his ass. Peter shivered in need. Mr. Stark pulled him back against his chest. He kissed his neck. "So your aunt thinks you're at a friends house today?"
"Yes, sir," Peter whimpered.
"Good. Let your friend know something came up. We'll get off at the next stop."
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leadenn · 6 months
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OH YEAH!? YOU WANT MY THOUGHTS? YOU WANT MY THOUGHTS!? (I did that AND some, oops)
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Absolutely adore your fic front and back. The entire concept had me intrigued, and once I started reading, I was OBSESSED. Legit, I would talk to my friends about it, talk to my shower, talk to my Twitter mutuals about it.ALSO ALSO I adore how you write monologues, it's so funny and so descriptive, makes me feel things good things. Every single one of them you write so well, like YES he would say that! I see a lot of Raph and Leo being writen so off, like their manorisms are so yes, I could see him doing that. Casey is so cool and I adore his relationship with Abby, big bro and lil sis, he would give the world for his sister and she would love the world for him. You feel me? Oh and I love how all of them just were like "yes Abby is my favorite little sister, I would kill for her", so fucking obsessed. Casey and Abby have gone through so much shit and I'm so happy for them being around people who love and care for them. Leatherhead and Casey and Abby and Mikey are so sweet. Leatherhead is also a sweetheart, he's so nice and the way you write him makes me melttt, I become a pile of mush 🫠Mikey and Him are soooo sweet too and I swear to god you have changed my ENTIRE perspective on those two as a ship its incredible, like before I ddint even THINK that much about it, but here I am in my notes app with a full on page of how to implement leatherhead in my au AND in my fanfic, the note title is legit called 💥THAMK UOU LEADENN💥 also just read the newest chapter came back to edit this, YAY! FUCK YEAHH!! Those twoooo OUGHHHH!! The inner monologues you write are so fuckin good, like I can read that thing good without getting confused and having to re read, I understand it because you explain well! The scenes play out good and are incredibly funny or incredibly sad or both. Like holy shit. Also the way you write and hint has me going "WHAT? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??? WHA WAIT WHA??" like I end up shocked eyes open. I also enjoy your writing so much I usually don't venture off into the collection of other stories unless they still include my favorite character but with how you write I just love everyone so much I'm like eating that shit up, full course meal gourmet food 5 stars. I know you get a lot of Mikey stuff so I left him for last on how much I fucking LOVE HIM HES SO COOL like mental stuff aside his one liners and his kick ass brain lines are awesome oh my god he comes off so damn cool like daaqmnnn who made you king of Antarctica, lord of coolness. I love his inner monologues so much, its so funny and so real like, "Yeah he underestimated how much of DICK the forest would be." Had me HOWLIBG, first thing in and I get hit in tge face with another real as hell Mikey line. That was actually one of the things that keeps me reading, what drew me in when I first found your amazing story. He'd just started spitting facts and a gnarly backstory and in my head I was like "ohhhh shittt!!" I get so excited every time an update comes out, goddamn chapter 5??? I am so goddamn proud of you for reaching 61 CHAPTERS AUGH I can't stress this enough you are doing AMAZING, you're writing so much and it's terrific every single time, every single comment, kudo, fanart, just everything, you deserve it. You're so awesome-sauce! I think I would bite the dust if I wrote as much as you, as much as I love it I am already struggling with getting past 5k words. Anyways, your writing genuinely is my coffee in the morning especially when I've run out of coffee and my phone is the only thing that morning to bring me joy. Also you intimidate me, most fanfic writers do but the moment you interacted with an account, boss music started playing in my head
I think I'll combust if I proof read this so before the guy in my head backs out I'm just gonna send it 👍😩👍
*pukes in joy*
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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jupio · 1 year
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tl;dr my uni house sucks absolute fucking ass and its been building but one things happened today and it has. tipped me over the edge. so its either write it out or scream
i just want. one fucking week in this house where noone does anything that makes me want to beat the shit out of them
we had a couple silverfish earlier this week so i put my houseplants on a window sill in the shared hall outside my room because of the damp. this was 4 days ago and i havent watered them since so they should be bone dry. 
last night i went to bed first but the other people who live here decided to stay up and get drunk
i got my plants back in today because there havent been anymore silverfish and went to water and prune them but when i leant in closer to the first one i noticed two things. 
1. the soil was soaked through and messy 2. it fucking stank of piss
so yknow i dont want to jump to conclusions but what other fucking conclusions are there here. someone in this god fucking awful house thought it would be funny to take one of my plants and piss in it for fucking what??? for the laughs???
theyve poured wine on my dishes, they broke my kitchen scales, theyve screamed and tried to break and kick in my door at 4 in the morning when high on ket, theyve made fun of me to my face, theyve made fun of my hobbies, they make snide comments where i can tell i’m being made fun of but i cant work out what i’ve said wrong, theyve slammed doors at every hour of the fucking night for weeks, they scream up and down the stairs at 3am, they call me boring, they call me stupid and autistic and unfunny and bitchy and nit-picky and overly sensitive and i am so fucking SICK of trying to live here
every day i am masking so hard that i’m even more irritable and i go to bed exhausted and full of anxiety because i know!! i know everytime i leave a room they all look at each other like oh thank god ollie’s gone we can finally be offensive and i’m not sleeping properly, and i’m always on edge in my own home. i cant relax here ever
and idk. someone else might take this less seriously and brush it off. but i cant and i’m tired of trying to explain to them that maybe its funny to prank each other but when you fuck with my stuff it’s not funny, it completely derails my expectations of things and especially with adhd my reactions to things can be out of proportion. so its not funny at all. im just so angry that im shaking and i want to beat the shit out of someone. so no, i dont take well to it, and im not gonna laugh and deal with it, im gonna cry, and react like a kid. and then noone is having any fun because everyone acts like its so awkward that im upset when really they could just be normal fucking decent people and leave me the hell alone.
and now i have to try and deal with this and i have no fucking clue how im even meant to approach it. “hi guys, just wondering who pissed in my beloved trailing ivy? it was £25 so would love some financial compensation and also for you to hold still so i can break your fucking nose!” 
i dont even know if i should just leave it because its just not worth it. i dont even care if im a pushover at this point i am so. tired. of trying to make them respect me as a person. thats what it feels like, it feels like they dont even see me as a person they just see me as a fucking circus freak.
the plants still in my room. i dont even know what to do with that. i dont want to touch it because just touching the pot made my hands smell. so just everytime i look up i get upset and scared and angry all over again because its right there. and im 90% sure i know who did it but if i confront him about it he’ll do that thing where people go cmon its just a joke why are you being so sensitive? jeez, lighten up its not a big deal and ill look stupid and sensitive and different like i always do
ive got 4 more months of living here and then i am fucking gone and i am never speaking to these people again. 
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adam-lallana · 2 years
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dear my ex best friend,
it’s 4am and just out of curiosity, i googled your name… i found you.
you look so… different, but its been five years since you moved to a different country and i guess time does tend to change people. its a bit of a shame that i look the exact same, really. its a good kind of ‘different’, by the way- you’re absolutely stunning.
it’s been five years since a lot of things, now that i think about it. five years since we last saw each other in person, five years since we last spoke, five years since i sat down and really thought about you. we’ve both done so much since then- i hope whatever path you chose has treated you well.
i’m being honest when i say there were times in which you made me feel guilty for things i didn’t need to feel guilty about, you made me feel alone and hurt. i don’t know if you remember all of this, but i do- i can’t forget it. the way you’d ignore me for your other friend, the way you said you were quickly helping her with something at lunch and that you’d meet me in our usual place- then one of our other friends gave away the fact you were actually sitting around the corner eating with her with her whilst i ate alone. i told you i was fine with it, but i went to toilets and cried. you were discussing a concert in the morning one time that i wasn’t going too, then i asked you a question i already knew you’d spoken about but i wanted to feel included so i still asked it- you turned to me and said ‘we’ve already said that’ in a rude manner and turned away again to continue ignoring me- that really fucking ruined my day. also, you sometimes didn’t talk to me in the mornings, it was a mission to get anything out of you. we’d walk in awkward silence and i would hate every second of it. i’d get you talking by the end of the day, though, but the next day you wouldn’t talk to me again. one time you told me that you hated my brother because you thought he was rude and annoying- i agreed and laughted it off but it hurt. he didn’t want to go to your house once, alright? i know it was to just pick something up but he was young and tired and just wanted to go home.
we had so many good times, we were best friends for eight years. there are simply too many good times to recall in one tumblr post. we used to pretend that celebrities were our siblings and create funny scenarios regarding them. we used to play harry potter and pretend we were in the marauders era, you came to the beach with my family, i got ice cream after school with yours. your younger sister is the same age as my brother- is she doing okay?
your mum, last september, commented on my mums post about me starting college- does this mean you guys still care about me? do you even know she did that?
if you ever end up finding this, if you figure out that you’re the person i’m talking about- i miss you and i hope that you’re okay. i hope your family are well and i hope that life is treating you amazingly because its what you deserve. i’m sorry i didn’t text, i’m sorry i didn’t call. my phone broke and i just never gave you my new number- the negative stuff was still fresh in my mind so i guess i let that take control of my decision. if i could go back now, though, i’d have given you my new number. sometimes i want to find you on social media, other times i don’t. it’s too late for us now, isn’t it?
good luck with the rest of you life, my ex best friend. i hope it goes the way you want it too. i do have a few questions, though. do you miss me? do you ever think about me? do you see if you can find me on social media? do you hear a song and get reminded of us? do you ever see something that reminds you of me? have you moved on completely and forgotten about me? i don’t blame you if you have.
i love you <3
p.s: you turned 17 on the 10th july (18 days ago)… happy late birthday.
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yikimiki · 3 years
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thinking so fucking hard about loser/stoner eren and popular/mean girl reader............ how she'll tease him and bully him at school but when they're fucking its always the opposite way around........ he has such a grip on her and shes so whipped for him that the pent up teasing just comes out during sex and he is just being so mean to her
This is a different au from the other loser eren asks — aiming more towards stoner!eren x popular!reader!! Also this got really long?? It’s a mix of headcanons and drabbles so hold on
warnings: smut, dirty talk, mean dom eren, rough sex, crying, creampie, multiple rounds, spanking, hair pulling, mentions of drugs (weed), degradation, use of “bitch”, “slut”, “whore”, “cocksleeve”, no prep, ass play, size kink, dumbification, mentions of spitting, dubcon (just to be sure)
No but imagine... Eren is this outcast, unbothered type of guy that doesn’t give a fuck about the social hierarchy of college or whatever. For some sick and twisted reason, you are particularly interested in him — there’s something about his baggy clothes, long hair under his cap/beanie and his “fuck everything” attitude that gets you going. But you can’t really show that you’re attracted to a complete loser like him, it would ruin your reputation, so you have to pretend as if you love teasing him, mocking him. Which, like, it’s totally funny.
It works for some time, until you are alone in a room with him. It happens in some weird college party that you almost didn’t go to, when you decide to take a break from dealing with your drunk friends and find shelter in a bedroom somewhere. It takes you some time to find one that it’s not locked or... being used, but eventually you open the door to find Eren, just scrolling through his phone with a blunt hanging from his lips. This time, considering it’s just you and him, you skip the provocations and ask him what he’s doing alone in there, you sit next to him in bed and listen as he complains about some friend that dragged him to that obnoxious party.
“I was just passing some time before I found an excuse to leave,” he says, locking his phone and putting it on the nightstand. The smell of weed is filling the stuffed air, and Eren takes another hit before putting his blunt out. “And what are you doing here? Got tired of ruining everyone’s night and decided to ruin mine?”
“It’s always more fun with you.” You smile, one hand landing on his shoulder. Eren tenses under your touch, bright green eyes trying to see if you’re just making fun of him again. Still, there’s something else burning at the bottom of your irises that he has never seen before, something that makes his stomach clench in anticipation. “Besides… now I have you all to myself.”
“What are you getting at?” He asks, but his voice sounds lower, eyebrows furrowed in doubt. You two are close, so much closer than ever before, and he can feel your gentle breathing on his lips when you lean closer. His heart picks up, and his hands are fighting to touch your body. “If this is some sort of prank, I swear—“
“It’s not a prank,” you whisper, looking down at his lips. Eren swallows dry — it’s funny: even after months of teasing, this is the clearer reaction you’ve ever received from him. “Can I kiss you?”
Eren has never heard you ask for anything — especially from him. It takes him some time to warm up to the idea (and to make sure you’re not just fucking with him again), his cock stirring awake in his baggy pants, before he gives you a curt nod. You smile, leaning in and joining your lips in a heated kiss.
And you swear you have the upper hand for some time. You sit on his lap, run your fingers through his hair and watch as he becomes pudding under your touches — just groaning and sighing against your lips as his rough hands squeeze your ass, making you grind your pussy down against his hard cock until you’re soaking through the fabric. But then something in the air suddenly switches and Eren is turning you around, trapping you beneath his large body as his lips eagerly move down to your neck, hands practically tearing your top open so he can suck on your tits.
You whimper and ask him to slow down, but he’s not really listening at this point — if you’re giving yourself to him, he’s going to make good use of his time. Especially when he thinks you should learn one thing or two about how to properly behave, about not always getting what you want, but what you deserve after teasing him for so long. All those months of pent-up frustration are getting to his head, turning into a power trip as he notices that he’s so much stronger than you, that he can do whatever he wants and you’ll just have to take it. And he’s gonna make sure you’ll take it all.
In no time, you’re completely naked, clothes mindlessly thrown around the room and Eren is looking at your body like he can eat you whole. He asks you to “Turn around,” as he takes off his own clothes, and your surprised at the eagerness in which you follow his command. You don’t know what’s going on with you — all those bitter comments you’d throw at him are now long gone, barely a ghost at the back of your mind when you feel him shuffle closer to you. Eren pulls your hips upwards, presses your face down against the mattress and spanks your ass so hard you swear you see stars.
“Eren!” You cry out, both from pleasure and surprise. “What are you—“
“Shut up.” His hands come down against your ass once more, making you whine. “You never fucking stop talking, such an annoying bitch.” Your skin burns as he lays down more hits against your ass cheeks, your hands helplessly holding onto the bedsheets. “This is what you wanted, uh? Wanted me to snap, to treat you like the needy whore you are.”
“Y-Yes,” you stutter. Your pussy is so aroused that you just feel yourself dripping down your thighs, the coldness of the air making you shiver. You never needed someone as much as you needed him. “Eren, fuck me,” you sob.
His large figure leans over you, one hand yanking your hair back as his face stops next to yours. You can feel his cock — huge, throbbing, heavy — in between your sensitive ass cheeks, and the notion that he’s about to stretch you out so wide makes you whine. “Didn’t fucking listen, why don’t you get some fucking manners and try again?”
“Please, Eren, f-fuck me,” you utter, arching your back against his cock. You never noticed how big and strong he is, but now that he’s towering over you, you have no choice but to feel yourself shrinking beneath him. “Please, please.”
He scoffs. “Needy bitch,” but he releases your hair and pushes your face down against the mattress, using his free hand to align himself with your dripping cunt. “Not so fucking chatty now, are you?” You barely have time to answer before he’s pressing his cockhead against your pussy, your hole fluttering around his length as he continues to push in. Eren is huge, definitely the biggest you’ve ever had, and the lack of prep only makes you feel the stretch even more. “Shit, look at this tight fucking cunt,” he breathes out. His hands are squeezing your ass so hard you just know it’ll be sore in the morning, but you don’t care. “Can’t believe you kept this from me for so fucking long.”
You have half the thought of apologizing, but you can’t do it when he bottoms out. By the time that his cock is fully inside you, you can barely utter out an incomprehensible string of “S-So huge, E-Eren— too much— fuck, so big, I can’t take it, I can’t...” before he’s moving his cock in and out of you.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He asks, spanking your ass once again. The noise is so much louder this time, your moan following it shortly. “Fucking annoyed me for months just because you wanted to milk my cock like a desperate little whore,” he seethes, grabbing your ass forcefully as he drills into your soaking cunt. Eren is going hard and fast, so much so that you feel as if your brain is rattling inside your head, tits bouncing against the mattress as he continues his unforgiving pace. “Always knew you were a slut, I just didn’t know you’d be so fucking— shit — so fucking insufferable.”
“I’m s-sorry,” you whine, tears streaming down your face because of how good it all feels.
He scoffs. “Not yet. But you’ll be sorry.”
And boy how sorry you are. You had no idea that Eren would have that ridiculous amount of stamina, but you don’t even know how many times you’ve cum by the end of the night. Eren fucks you full of his cum again and again, spanking you and pulling your hair every time you misbehave and can’t keep it in like he tells you to — because “you’re such a dumb bitch, can’t even listen when you’re full of cock”.
He makes you cum on his fingers, on his cock, on his tongue, even makes you desperately grind against his thigh to get yourself off just because he likes how dumb you look. He fills every whole he can — spits in your mouth, fucks your throat, fingers your ass as he’s fucking you from the back and promises that next time it’ll be his cock. He’s just so mean, so revengeful of every time you annoyed him that he can’t be nice even if he tried. It’s just too good to have almighty little you turned into a stupid slut for his cock, crying and begging for him to fill you up one more time.
“Listen to me,” he hisses, making you turn your head to look at him. Your eyes are glazed over, barely able to find his with your orgasm building up again. “This is all you’re fucking good for,” he says, and his cock throbs inside you. Eren’s cum is seeping down your thighs, coating his length and making his slide easier as he continues to pound inside your abused cunt. “You’re made to be a cocksleeve, this pussy is made to take my cock. Do you understand?” You agree with a whiny yes. “Gonna stop fucking annoying me now? You can just ask and I’ll fuck you whenever you want, okay?” You nod, only half there, and for the first time that night he calls you “Good girl,” before stuffing you full of his cum again.”
Anyways???? Idk what came over me but yeah. Popular girl reader that is a complete slut for loser eren when theyre fucking. I rest my case.
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years
Text
SLEEPLESS
a/n: omg! it's been so long since i last wrote something for harry so it feels a bit weird but in a good way to be back. i've been spending more time offline so writing hasn't been going that fast like before, but im working on a few other stuff too! just please be patient with me, im trying my besti swear! so now enjoy this oneshot of two oblivious and stupid roommates who start sharing a bed...
pairing: Roommate!Harry x reader
word count: 8.1k
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Living with three boys has its perks but also a lot of downsides too. It’s not how you planned, you were set to move in with one of your friends from second year, but she bailed on you last minute, leaving you with no place to live when most of the houses were already taken for the next at least one year. You were bracing yourself to sleep under a bridge or something already when your heroes came along.
You went to high school with Harry Niall and Louis, but you weren’t exactly in the same friend group, just knew about each other. Then you ended up in the same Lit class freshman year with Harry and he was basically your pass into their little group. You hit it off pretty easily and you always wondered why you didn’t become friends before college. Later you had two more classes with him in the second semester and it was just all a coincidence that he found out about your living situation.
“Why don’t you move in with us?” he prompted one afternoon when you were studying together in the library.
“I’m not sharing a room with any of you, Harry,” you sighed, shaking your head.
“You wouldn’t have to. We had a fourth mate living with us but he dropped out about a month ago. You could take his bedroom.”
“Are for real? You should talk about it with the boys first, don’t you think?”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind it. They like you too and if I’m being honest, the place could use the touch of a woman,” he smirked and you just rolled your eyes, but you were incredibly thankful for the offer.
So after talking with Niall and Louis about it and once they gave their amens on the situation, you officially moved in with the three of them.
You’d be lying if you said there hasn’t been times when you thought about choosing the bridge, living with boys is not exactly a dream. They are messy, sometimes loud and oblivious about certain things women do and need. You’ll never forget Niall’s face when you packed the shelf above the toilet with your tampons and pads. The horror in his eyes as he examined all the different sizes and types.
“But why so many? I don’t get it why you need the large ones and the mini ones too,” he huffed.
“Because I vary them according to the strength of my flow.”
“Bless you,” he scoffed and just walked away.
They tend to leave their clothes around the house and they don’t always realize when it’s time to let some fresh air into the place either. Harry has a sixth sense wanting to use the bathroom when you’re in and Louis always forgets to get rid of his spoiled food from the fridge. Tini things that surely got you thinking if it was a good idea to move in with them. But then there are times when you can’t even imagine sharing a home with anyone else than these three idiots.
The way Harry always leaves you a cup of coffee on the counter when he has an early class on mondays and wednesdays, how Niall always waits for you to get home after your night shifts at the restaurant you’ve been working at, but he always just says he was watching Supernatural on TV. You love that Louis goes out of his way to get you your favorite pastry for breakfast on sundays when he goes for his morning runs. But the absolute best is that you never feel alone or bored with these three around. Something is always happening and they make sure to involve you in everything, making you feel like part of their little pack.
Tonight is Thursday and Thursdays are movie nights in your home. It’s been a tradition since the first week and you haven’t missed any of them. Sitting on the couch at your usual spot, you laugh as Niall growls in annoyance when you suggest to watch another rom-com.
“Not again!” he protests, sitting on the floor by the coffee table you and Harry thrifted a few months ago after the previous one was broken at a smaller party held in the house.
“Why? I bet Harry would love it!” you grin, glancing at the guy in talk who is now entering the room with a big bowl of popcorn.
“Of course he would, because he is a pussy! And the two of you always team up, dragging Louis with you so I can never watch something I enjoy!” Niall whines as Harry sits next to you, not too bothered by his friend’s cries.
“Come on, I bet you enjoyed Crazy, Stupid Love last week!” you laugh, remembering how he whined for the first part, then fell asleep at the end.
“Love, if you think that was enjoyment, I wouldn’t want to be your boyfriend,” Niall scoffs and you gasp at his reply.
“Hey!” you snap at him, but can’t help laughing. This is how it always goes with you and Niall, the non-stop bickering can sometimes drive Harry and Lou insane.
“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” Harry asks, throwing some popcorn into his mouth as he gets comfortable, an arm resting on the back of the couch behind you, the other one busy with the snack in his lap.
“There is this new horror I’ve been dying to see!” Niall’s blue eyes light up right away, but you’re fast to break that shine.
“Nah, no way. I’m not watching a horror movie.”
“Why not?”
“Because I fucking hate them and they scare the shit out of me.”
“That’s like the whole point!” he protests, but you shake your head no again.
“What are you fighting about again?” Louis asks, walking into the room after his quick shower, the smell of his body wash filling the room for a few moments.
“I want to watch a horror movie, but Y/N is a little baby and she doesn’t want to.”
“I’m not a baby! I just don’t enjoy watching people get killed or demons sucking the life out of someone!” Niall just rolls his eyes at your response.
“But it’s always what you or Harry wants to watch, why can’t I choose just this once?”
“That’s not true, we watch movies you like too!” you retort, but Niall gives you an unimpressed look. “We watched that crime thing, that was your choice!”
“That was three months ago, Y/N,” he sighs and as you do some quick math you realize that he is right.
“Hey, he has a point. Let’s just watch what he wants this one time, yeah?” Harry curls his arm that’s been on the back of the couch around your shoulder and he pulls you to his side, squeezing you gently.
“But I hate horrors,” you pout, knowing well that it’s already kind of settled, you lost this battle.
“It’s just a movie. And if you get scared in the night, you can sleep at mine,” he offers with a wink that surely makes your heartbeat fasten a bit.
If you’re being honest, you’ve always had a tiny crush on Harry, even back in high school, when you didn’t really know him. He was the cool guy, but not the douchebag type, more like the one that was nice to everyone and earned their respect and liking. Getting to know him just proved that he really is a great guy, but you figured he would never feel the same way about you. These three guys only saw you as their sister and that was in a way kinda worse than being friend zoned, but there’s nothing you can do about it, so you just decided to come to peace with your situation. But that doesn’t mean you don’t get flustered when you see him wander around the house in just his boxers or when he gets a little touchy with you, which happens a lot, because that’s just how he is. Hands on your shoulders, a little squeeze on your hips, the gentle touch of his fingers on your back, they happen all the time and they get your pulse up every time. You can only hope it’s not that noticeable.
Niall finally gets what he wants and you agree to watch that stupid horror movie. It doesn’t start off too bad, but it quickly escalates and makes you shudder every time the screen gets a little darker or the music is foreshadowing that something is about to happen.
“Jesus fuck!” you jump a little when the killer appears out of nowhere in the scene.
“You alright?” Harry asks, peeking down at you.
“I fucking hate this dude,” you mumble, rubbing your face with your hands, to get your shit together. Harry chuckles lightly next to you, his arm pulling you to his side close and you gladly sink against him, the warmth of his body giving you some comfort and a sense of safety.
Your eyes are on the screen, but your mind is dancing around how his fingers are delicately running up and down your arm, drawing circles and little shapes on your skin. It could put you to sleep easily, even with the woman screaming on the screen after seeing her husband get killed.
“Just imagine the guy with a funny mustache,” Harry murmurs, leaning closer to you so he doesn’t bother the other two guys with his comment. “Or maybe in a ridiculous outfit.”
“Like… in a onsie?” you ask, squinting your eyes at the screen.
“Could be, yeah,” he chuckles quietly. “Just imagine him running through the woods in a onsie with bunnies all over it.”
You can’t push your laughter down, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t bother the others. Harry just smirks, giving you a squeeze as you’re still melted against his side on the couch, legs pulled up to your chest, while his are spread out in front of him.
“Definitely not that scary,” you giggle and Harry hums in agreement.
“Would you mind getting a fucking room, you guys? You have two, in fact!” Niall snaps at you playfully, when you start laughing again.
“Sorry, sorry!” you clear your throat, your cheeks heating up at the comment, but luckily it’s dark enough to hide your embarrassment. Niall is always quick to make dirty jokes and tease you in a way that makes you nervous, especially when it involves Harry as well. He has made plenty of comments about you and Harry since you’ve moved in, implying that the two of you sometimes act like a couple or that you should hook up. Harry is always quick to shake them off, that’s how you know he couldn’t even take the thought seriously.
At the end of the movie you feel like it wasn’t bad, not with Harry holding you close at least.
“Will you be screaming tonight, Y/N?” Niall teases you, making you roll your eyes at him.
“Either way it’s gonna be your fault.”
“I can live with that!” he laughs, bidding his goodbye before he shuts the door of his bedroom behind him.
You do your usual evening routine, get ready to bed and by the time you’re done in the bathroom all the boys have retired into their rooms. The hallway stands dark in front of you, only a tiny bit of light coming from your bedroom since you left your bedside lamp on in there, but you still can’t help the eerie feeling that washes over you. That movie didn’t sit right with you and now you have to face the aftermath of it.
Switching the lights in the bathroom off you sprint into your bedroom, pictures from the movie flashing in your mind of the killer just jumping out of nowhere. You shut the door and lean your back against it for a moment, taking a deep breath. Tonight is going to be long.
No matter how hard you try, you just can’t fall asleep. You’re way too alerted, opening your eyes at the tiniest of sounds around you, which is unfortunate, because your window is looking over the main street, unlike two other rooms in the house, that are facing the small backyard. Harry and Louis have the luck to have those rooms.
Every time you’re about to fall asleep something from the movie sneaks into your thoughts and you get scared to death. Soon, you realize you won’t be able to sleep on your own tonight.
Sitting on the edge of your bed, you wonder if Harry really meant that offer that you can sleep with him or not. Part of you is convinced it was just a joke, but when you hear someone shouting down the street you push your doubts aside and you quickly find yourself making your way to Harry’s room.
You knock on the room lightly, not wanting to wake anyone else up. The last thing you need is Niall seeing you go into Harry’s room in the middle of the night.
No answer comes from inside, but you won’t just leave it at that. Opening the door you’re facing another dark room, barely making out the furniture, but you already know the route by heart. Making it to the bed your eyes finally adjust to the darkness and you can see Harry lying on his side, sleeping peacefully. Squatting down you place a hand to his shoulder and give him a tiny shake.
“Harry?” you call out quietly, but his answer is just a huff. “Harry, it’s me,” you try again, squeezing his arm. He furrows his eyebrows before slowly blinking his eyes open, finding you in his sight.
“Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks in that groggy, low voice you love hearing in the morning so much.
“I can’t… Did you mean that I can sleep here if I’m scared?” you ask, afraid that he might just have a good laugh and send you back to your room. For a long moment, he just blinks at you before nodding his head and you feel relief washing over you.
“Sure,” he hums.
“O-okay then I’ll bring a blanket and take the floor and--”
“Shut up, you are not sleeping on the floor,” he growls, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into bed with him as he scoots over, making you space on the mattress.
It’s a bit weird at first, lying in bed with Harry, especially because it’s just queen sized, so there’s not much space between the two of you, but it seems like Harry doesn’t mind it so why should you?
Your nerves are a lot calmer with Harry next to you, but maybe it’s still because of the movie or because you’re a bit anxious about the whole situation, you just still can’t relax enough to fall asleep.
“Y/N, no one is gonna kill you here,” Harry speaks up surprising you because you thought he has already fallen back asleep.
“I know, I know,” you whisper, trying to sound convincing, but you can’t fool anyone, especially not him.
He huffs deeply and before you could realize what’s happening, Harry’s arm is curled around your waist, pulling you against him, spooning you from behind, the warmth of his body wrapping your figure almost entirely.
“If a murderer comes, they will have to fight me first, alright? Now sleep,” he mumbles against your hair, squeezing you gently. All at once, you couldn’t care about killers and dark shadows around you, because Harry was right there, holding you tight and there was nowhere you wanted to be more than right there.
You slept like a baby. Harry’s closeness kept every nightmare away from you and the morning came with ease. Harry’s phone wakes the two of you up at eight, because he has a morning class at 9.30. The two of you are completely tangled up in each other, lying on your side facing each other, Harry’s arms are wrapped around you, while yours are hugging his waist. Groaning at the sound of his alarm, he rolls to his back to reach for the phone on the nightstand and then he finally turns it off. It’s bright outside, the darkness of the night finally long gone. You’re still groggy when Harry rolls back, his arm coming back around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world and in a sense, it feels like that. But as you both slowly wake up, you realize that you might be a little too close. Slowly but surely you let go of each other, rolling to your back, staring up at the ceiling.
“Hope I didn’t kick you in my sleep,” you smile at him, peeking over at him, hoping to break the awkwardness of the situation.
“No, don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, rubbing his eyes, before pushing himself up and off the bed. You follow him with your gaze as he steps to his dresser and grabs a pair of clean underwear. “I’ll put on a coffee while I shower, want one too?” he asks, though you know he could make one for you anyway.
“Sure, thank you,” you nod and he nods back, yawning as he walks out of the room, leaving you lying in his bed, a bit confused and kind of aching to be held by him again.
Two days pass by, everything is going as per usual, neither you nor Harry brings up that you spent the night in his bed that one particular time. Now it’s saturday and you all were planning to go out, but a sudden storm has cancelled your plans, so the evening turned into a cozy, lazy hangout instead of a wild party at some frat house.
Louis decided to work on a paper that’s due in two weeks, Niall has been relentlessly swiping on Tinder while you and Harry are spawled out on the couch, watching some shitty action movie that was on TV, since you both were too lazy to choose one and put it on. Deep down you’re a little happy you don’t have to spend the evening in a crowded, smelly house, drinking cheap alcohol.
Harry gets up from his seat to grab himself a drink just when Niall growls in annoyance.
“What is it?” you ask.
“They keep unmatching with me after we’ve talked a little!”
“Have you thought about the reason?” you smirk at him, knowing well that Niall probably isn’t the easiest to talk to, he surely takes it too far too soon.
“Well they probably don’t like that I ask them if I can go over,” he shrugs, making you laugh.
“You’d go over in the pouring rain?” Harry asks, returning to his spot on the couch. He puts his drink to the coffee table and instead of sitting into his previous position, leaning against the arm of the couch, he lies down, laying his head to your thigh, making your breath hitch for a moment.
“Of course not!” Niall rolls his eyes. “But I thought it would make them think I would do anything for them.”
“It makes you seem desperate,” Harry retorts, earning a questioning look from his friend. “What? It does!”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Yes it does,” you nod in agreement. “Going over in the middle of a storm just to fuck? Sounds like you’re having a hard time finding someone.”
“Women are so fucking complicated, and for what?!” he growls, before storming off to his bedroom, like an angsty teenager, leaving you and Harry alone.
He doesn’t move, his head stays on your thigh using it as a pillow. His curls are tickling the soft skin on your thigh and you have to fight the urge to play with his hair or scratch his scalp. You stay like this for the rest of the movie and when he gets up you almost want to pull him back.
“Alright, I’m fucked, I’m gonna go to bed,” he yawns, stretching his arms out into the air as he heads into his bedroom. “Good night, Y/N.”
“Night, Harry!” you call after him as you watch his frame disappear down the hallway.
Sighing, you slide down on the couch, cursing under your breath that you’re still so hung up on Harry. You really thought that you had it under control, but lately those damn butterflies are acting up in your stomach at everything he does.
“I’m pathetic,” you mumble under your breath just as the sky rumbles outside with a blinding lightning, making you jump with a squeak. “Shit,” you huff, already knowing that falling asleep will be a pain in the ass. Again.
You’ve always hated storms, they make you think that something bad is about to happen, a tree is about to fall into the window or a lightning will blow up the building. It’s kind of stupid, you know it, but you just can’t help it.
Tossing and turning, you jump every time a lightning flashes somewhere outside and a few seconds later the thunder rips through your whole body, almost making you fall off the bed.
“Oh God,” you let out a shaky breath. You have no idea how long it is until the Storm finally stops and you’d really like to have a good night's sleep. So pushing your anxious thoughts to the side, you get out of bed and head over to Harry’s room once again.
It’s such a deja vu from a few nights ago, as you gently knock on the door you wait again, but this time you actually get an answer.
“Yeah?” you hear him call out from inside and you slowly open the door, peeking your head inside. Harry is lying in bed, his head propped up against the headboard as he is scrolling through his phone. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks, putting the phone aside as he sits up.
“I just, I-I know it’s stupid, but I was thinking… I don’t know--”
“Y/N, just tell me, alright? Come on in,” he gestures for you and you slip into the room, closing the door behind you before sitting to the edge of the bed next to him. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t sleep during storms…” you admit, looking into his eyes, hoping he gets the hint where you want to head with it. He stares back at you for a moment before he scoots over, lifting the covers up, giving you the green light to join him.
Relieved, you climb over to him, making yourself comfortable as he wraps the blanket over you, his arm immediately coming to cradle you, this time pulling you to his chest so your head is laid upon his shoulder, a hand gently placed onto his hard chest, probably right above where his butterfly tattoo is adorning his abdomen.
This is now easily your favorite place. Safe and tight in Harry’s arms, protected from anything and everything, like you’re in a little bubble as soon as you get on his bed.
Lightning strikes outside again and you shiver a little. Harry probably notices it, because he tightens his hold around you, as if it’s his way telling you that he is here and nothing bad is gonna happen. Eventually, you’re able to shut the outside out and only focus on Harry’s warmth, the touch of his hand on your arm and his even breathing. And then finally, you drift off to sleep.
This morning is different from the previous one you spent here. There’s no alarm since it’s Sunday, neither of you have anything in particular to do, so you wake up feeling rested, the Sun shining through his half drawn in curtains, no trace of last night’s storm can be noticed from where you’re lying in bed, the sky is as clear as ever. Sometime during the night you got tangled in a way where Harry is the one now cuddling you, his head lying on your chest, hugging you as if you were a giant teddy bear, his leg thrown between yours, lightly snoring against your sleep shirt. You can only see his mop of hair and the urge to play with them is back, but this time, you give in.
Leaving one hand on his back, you move the other one to his unruly locks, gently playing with one before you comb your fingers through it, lightly scratching his scalp. Harry hums in pleasure, shifting from his dreams back to reality, but he doesn’t move, just keeps humming as you massage his scalp.
“It’s not a good morning, it’s the best,” he mumbles groggily, making you chuckle at his words.
One of his hands is flat against your ribcage and the damned butterflies start dancing when you feel his fingers gently stroke your side as you keep playing with his curls. This feels so idyllic, as if you’ve been like this forever. You wish that was true.
Groaning as he stretches, Harry rolls to his back, making you instantly miss his body pressed against yours. He rubs his eyes, sighing deep as he blinks up at the ceiling a few times, then he turns his head to the side, looking at you.
Just when he is about to say something, outside his door it sounds like someone just broke a pile of plates and it’s followed by Niall’s usual annoyed growl. You both get out of bed to go and check what happened, not even thinking about how it might appear that you both are coming from Harry’s room in the morning.
Harry flings the door open and there is Niall, collecting pieces of a plate from the floor, his breakfast scattered down the hallway as well while he curses under his breath.
“What happened?” Harry asks, picking up a bigger piece from the plate.
“Fucking tripped,” he growls back, glancing up just for a moment, then back down, but then he processes that you’re standing behind Harry, in his room, in the morning. “What the fuck are you doing in Harry’s room?” he bluntly asks, quickly forgetting about the mess he just made.
“What?” you ask nervously, your pulse quickening in an instant. Harry stands up, seemingly not too bothered by Niall’s question.
“You slept in his room?!”
“She did,” Harry answers, leaning against the doorframe.
“Wait, are you two fucking?” Niall’s eyes widen, snapping back and forth between you and Harry.
“Just because two people sleep in the same bed, doesn’t mean they are fucking, Niall,” Harry chuckles, seemingly amused by the situation that’s got your stomach knotted. Louis’ door opens and he walks out, his hair a little messy, but already dressed, a mug halfway filled with coffee in his hand.
“Wha’s this circus out here?” he asks, looking around, his eyes scanning over the mess on the floor.
“Did you know these two are fucking?” Niall asks him and Harry lets his head drop back at his words.
“Are you?” Louis simply questions and you shake your head no.
“We are not. Y/N can’t sleep in a storm so she came over to mine.”
“Funny, she doesn’t come to me when she’s scared,” Niall scoffs.
“I never came to you because you don’t understand that sleeping together doesn’t mean sex,” you retort, though your ears are practically burning from the rising anxiety inside you.
“Wait, whoa. This wasn’t the first time you two slept together?”
“She was scared after your stupid horror movie too,” Harry shrugs.
“Wow, so are you guys a thing now or what?”
“Niall!” Harry growls and you’re not entirely sure what bothers you more. Niall’s shock and interrogation or the way Harry seems so cool and unbothered, like it’s no big deal. Maybe because for him it really isn’t, it’s only about the sleeping, nothing else, even though the cuddles are a little beyond the lines of friendship.
“What? I’m just asking the important stuff! Am I not allowed to tell dirty jokes to Y/N because you’ll cut my prick off?”
“You shouldn’t tell those anyway,” Louis chimes in and you nod in agreement.
Seeing that the conversation is just getting more and more awkward with each passing moment you decide to pull yourself out of it. Pushing yourself past Harry you mumble an excuse me before rushing back into your room, the three boys eyeing you curiously as you shut the door behind you, finally putting a physical barrier between you and them.
You shouldn’t be this offended, it’s not like any promises were made and you should have known better and not fall for him more than you already did. It was silly of you to think that there was anything more behind these nights spent curled up against each other, or when you woke up tangled and melted together. It was never what you hoped it to be.
Then and there you decide it’s better if you distanced yourself from him, or at least go back to how it was before. No bed sharing, no cuddling and preferably no bitter feelings.
It all goes well, because you have a pretty busy week after that day, you always have something to do and it’s not like you spent the night with Harry randomly, so it was evident that you stayed in your room so far.
But about a week later another storm was threatening to strike. The sky was gradually darkening all afternoon and now it’s only five o’clock, but it feels like eight. It’s Sunday, you’re quite exhausted since you were working until three. Niall was out somewhere with some of his coursemates and Louis went home for the weekend, won’t be back until Tuesday. It’s just you and Harry, who’s been sprawled out on the couch in only his sweatpants while you’re making yourself an early dinner so you can go to bed soon and have a good night’s sleep.
It doesn’t take long for the rain to start pouring, you’ve just gotten out of the shower when the first thunder rips through the place, making you gasp in fear. Harry’s head snaps around, looking in your way where you’re standing at the bathroom door, a questioning look in his eyes, but he doesn’t say a word. Ignoring his gaze, you just make your way into your bedroom, not even thinking about what could be on his mind. Is he thinking about whether you’ll ask to sleep with him again or he doesn’t care about it at all?
By the time you are ready to go to bed, the storm is fully raging outside, making your insides tremble every time you see a lightning or the thunder breaks the quietness in the house. You make one last trip to the kitchen, finding Harry leaned against the counter as he eats an apple.
“Going to bed early?” he asks as you pour yourself some water.
“Mhm,” you nod, avoiding looking at him.
“Everything alright?”
“Sure, I’m just tired,” you force a small smile onto your face just when a thunder rumbles outside, making you jump. Harry is watching you curiously and kind of expectantly, but you’re doing your best ignoring it. Instead, you just grab your water and head back to your room. “Good night.”
“Night, Y/N,” he calls after you, and you can feel his burning gaze on your back right until you close the door behind you.
Your plan to sleep a good ten hours goes right out the window. It doesn’t seem like the storm is about to calm anytime soon, so you’re stuck to suffer through it on your own. You’ll be damned to go to Harry’s, that would be an instant heart break and you just can’t take that right now. Long, torturous hours pass by with you lying awake in bed and part of you wants to go running over to Harry, but you force yourself to stay. It’s not happening tonight.
You fall asleep sometime after two in the morning when the thunder and lightning have stopped. Unfortunately, you need to wake up early in the morning, so when your phone’s alarm shakes you out of your sleep, you feel like absolute shit. Dragging yourself out of bed appears to be the hardest thing right now. As you make your way out, you are met with an all too familiar figure sitting at the small dining table, two cups of coffees in front of him, one obviously made for you.
Harry’s eyes snap up at you curiously, taking in your terrible looks as you head to the bathroom.
“Morning,” you mumble under your breath.
“Good morning’,” he nods in your way and though he doesn’t say anything else, you can tell he has a few thoughts about your current state.
Once you’re done with your morning business in there you join him at the table, barely able to keep your eyes open.
“Rough night?” he asks, eyes examining your face.
“Kinda.”
“The storm?”
You don’t answer, just nod your head. He remains silent, but you can feel that he is dying to ask another question.
Why didn’t you come over?
You’re glad he doesn’t actually asks you, because you wouldn’t be able to give either a normal answer or say anything without starting to cry. Instead, you just grab your coffee and head back into your bedroom to get ready for the day.
That week on Friday all four of you are invited to a party. At first you want to cancel, but some of your friends from classes will be there too and it’s been ages since you’ve been to a great party, so you decide to tag along with the boys.
For the first half of the evening you go your separate way, spending time with people you don’t actually live with and see every day. One drink follows the other, though you make sure you don’t go farther than getting tipsy. You’re not in the mood to deal with a nasty hangover in the morning.
Sometime after your third or fourth drink you run into Niall and he pulls you into their little circle that also involves Harry. When he sees that you’ve joined them, his eyes light up and goes out of his way to get next to you.
“I haven’t seen you in ages!” he whines, slurring his words as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to keep you at his side. He is definitely drunk, that you’re sure of.
“It’s been just about two hours, Harry,” you roll your eyes, but can’t push your smile down. You’d be lying if you said you’re not enjoying having him so close. Your dynamic hasn’t been the same since you stopped sleeping in his bed. Not that it was such a regular activity, it only happened two times.
“But I missed you, I feel like we haven’t… haven’t talked in so long!” he huffs, knitting his eyebrows together. “Have you been avoiding me?” he asks leaning closer, so your conversation can somewhat be private.
“That’s silly. Of course I haven’t!”
“But it feels like that,” he pouts with glossy eyes. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”
“Sure,” you nod, the bitter taste of lying filling your mouth.
“Alright, cool,” he smirks and pulling closer he kisses into your hair before he engages with the rest of the group again, keeping his arm around you as if it wasn’t a big deal.
For the rest of the evening you simply don’t leave his side and not because he doesn’t let you, but because you don’t want to. Harry is not the only one missing the other, this week you’ve noticed that even though you’ve been keeping yourself busy, your thoughts always took you back to one particular, curly haired boy. Despite everything that’s been going on, he is your friend first and foremost who you love spending time with and talking about anything and everything.
Both of you are intoxicated, Harry a bit more than you, but you’re having a blast playing beerpong or ruining Niall’s chances with girls he is trying to pick up. You’re genuinely having an amazing time and it wouldn’t be the same without Harry.
Arriving back home your little group splits, everyone using the bathroom after the other and you’re the last one in line, because you always take the longest. By the time you’re finished, Louis and Niall are both locked up in their rooms, but Harry’s door is still open, some dim lighting illuminating the hallway. As you approach it, you find him throwing his dirty clothes into the hamper, but his head perks up when he sees you.
“Good night, H,” you sigh, quite tired and in need of a good sleep, but before you could head into your own bedroom, Harry grabs your wrist and pulls you into his. “What is it?”
“Sleep here,” he simply prompts, already leading you to the bed.
“Why?”
“Because I want you to.”
“I-I… I don’t--” you stutter, feeling flustered from his offer.
“Come on, you can’t say no,” he tells you, already crawling under his covers and then he holds them up as the invitation.
Taking a deep breath you follow him and make yourself comfortable in your almost usual spot. Harry’s arm falls over your waist in an instant, spooning you from behind as he hums pleased. But a few moments later he lifts his head, looking at you with concern in his eyes.
“You know you can say no, right? I was just joking.” Looking back at him you give him a small smile. Even drunk he makes sure you aren’t doing anything you don’t want to, but how could you not want it? You’ve been aching to sleep next to him all week, especially after the last storm when you suffered alone in your room.
“I know, Harry.”
“Alright, okay,” he nods, his head dropping back to the pillow. “I missed this,” he mumbles with a sigh.
“Yeah?”
“Mm, sleeping alone sucks,” he hums and in a split second, your heart breaks.
Harry didn’t want to sleep with you, he just wanted to sleep with someone and you were the one there. It has nothing to do with you.
You want to blame him, you want it to be his fault that your chest is now aching, knowing that it truly doesn’t mean the same thing to him it does to you, but you know you can’t. It wouldn’t be fair, so once again, you’re left with a sinking heart wrapped up into Harry’s embrace that suddenly feels burning.
“Good night, Y/N.”
“Good night, Harry.”
When the morning comes Harry is still sleeping deep beside you, an arm thrown over your waist, puffing warm air against the side of your head with every breath he exhales. Seeing him so peaceful warms your heart, but then you realize everything that happened last night, how he only used you because you were available and not because he wanted you.
You don’t want to wait for him to wake up and face him, your emotions would surely bring the best out of you. So carefully, you unwrap yourself from his hold and sneak out of his room, back into yours.
There’s no way you can face Harry right now, so before he could wake up you leave, planning on spending the day in the library, working on your assignments, hoping the school work will take your mind off of how badly you’ve been friendzoned.
Sometime after eleven Harry actually texts you asking where you went and you just tell him you have a shitload of school stuff to deal with. He asks if he can join you, but you tell him you’re with a group of your classmates, even though you’re sitting in an almost entirely empty library. He luckily doesn’t push it and leaves you to be. Hopefully he’ll be fine when you take another step away from him for a while to get your head straight and sort your emotions out.
You get home quite late, but not late enough, apparently. Because walking into the house you find the boys clearly getting ready to watch a movie.
“Just in time!” Niall beams. “Join us, Princess!” he laughs, grabbing himself a cola from the fridge.
“Oh, no, I have some things to work on--”
“Come on, you’ve been in the library all day, you can have a break!” Louis tells you and you know you won’t be left alone, they are just so persistent.
So you join them in your usual spot, which is of course next to Harry, though you’re trying to avoid his gaze that hasn’t left you since you arrived and by now you’re certain he knows you’re avoiding him. There’s a reason why he asked you last night if you’ve been doing it lately, he is not stupid, but this is not the time to deal with it.
With your inner crisis bubbling inside you, you completely forget to ask what you’re watching. A few minutes into the movie it becomes quite clear however.
“Is this a fucking horror movie again?” you ask, snapping at Niall, who just starts laughing.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Harry will gladly let you sleep in his bed tonight,” he teases, making your whole face heat up at his comment. Harry slaps his chest before he turns to you with concern filled eyes, but you pretend like you see nothing, turning back to the screen with your jaw clenched.
You’re fucked.
The movie is a fucking shitshow and leaves you traumatized. When it’s over, you think about why didn’t you just stand up and go into your room when you realized it’s another horror. For a change, this one was filled with demons and monsters that hide in the shadows, just what you need before going to bed. In the night. In a totally dark room.
Exiting the bathroom you’re already planning on watching something lighthearted and cheerful in your room, hoping that would make you forget the movie you just saw and give you the chance to actually sleep.
Walking past Harry’s room you see that it’s still open and you catch him expectantly looking at you when you appear in the doorway as you walk down the hallway, your eyes meeting for just a split second before you disappear from his sight and shut your bedroom door without a word behind you.
No matter how many random videos you watch on YouTube, some scenes from the movie are just imprinted into your mind and they have you trembling in fear. Every shadow looks like a demon or ghost, hiding in your room, ready to haunt and kill you and you’re on the verge of actually crying. It might not be only because of the movie, more like everything else that’s been bottled up inside you, added to the fear the movie has brought to you.
Shutting your eyes closed you try to take deep breaths and for a bit it actually seems to help, but that is until you hear the door opening. It gives you an instant heart attack and you can’t keep your tears back anymore.
A whimper leaves your mouth as the door opens and you can only see a shadow entering the room, totally not recognizing Harry in the dark.
“Y/N, hey, it’s just me! It’s okay!” he quickly clears, seeing how shaken up you are. He rushes over to the bed, one hand cupping your cheek, the other one finding your hand and before you could think, you grip it hard.
“You scared the living hell out of me!” you cry out, sobbing.
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to check on you.”
Silence sets between the two of you that’s only momentarily broken by your shaky breaths as you try to calm yourself down.
“Why didn’t you come to mine after the movie if you were so scared?” he then asks, surprising you with how straightforward he is.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumble, blinking the remaining of the tears away as Harry stares down at you intently.
“Why would you think you’d bother me? I like having you there.”
“But it’s… Doesn’t matter,” you sigh in defeat, but it just concerns him even more.
“No, tell me!”
“Harry, just go back to your room. I’ll be fine.”
“You definitely won’t and I’m not leaving until you don’t tell me what’s going on,” he protests firmly and you lose your patience to keep lying to him.
“You just wanted someone to sleep with yesterday, okay? You didn’t need me. And… I don’t want to depend on you more than I should.”
Harry stares back at you with a blank expression and you feel like this is going to be the end of your friendship. You have to come clean about your feelings and he’ll tell you that he doesn’t feel the same way. But then he speaks up and the tables turn faster than ever.
“Y/N, I wanted you to sleep with me last night. Not just anyone. You.”
“What?”
“I really thought we have been on the same page, but apparently, we’re not even in the same book,” he sighs, confusing you even more. “Wasn’t it suspicious how things have been between us lately? The way we slept, the mornings, did you think these are normal things to do?”
“I-I thought that… it didn’t mean anything to you.”
“Well it did,” he replies and you breath hitches in your throat. “I was trying to take it slow, see how you’d react to everything and I thought you were feeling the same way. But then last time you didn’t come to my room when there was a storm and I thought that was your way of telling me that you want to pause whatever’s been going on.”
You’re just blinking in shock, listening to his words. This is nothing you expected.
“But then you seemed like you opened back up last night and you agreed to sleep with me, thought we were back on track, but then you were nowhere to be found in the morning, avoided me all day and now you would have rather spent the night crying here alone than to come over to me. What did I do? Just tell me, because quite frankly, I have no idea what we are doing anymore, Y/N,” he sighs, clearly tired of this insane game you’ve been playing without even knowing.
“So… you did all of this, because… you…”
“Because I like you, Y/N. But there’s a possibility it’s already way more than just a strong liking,” he admits with a soft chuckle that melts you in an instant.
“Oh god, I could cry again, but not out of fear this time,” you tell him, making him laugh as you scoot closer to him on the mattress. “I feel the same way, Harry,” you softly tell him, your hands finding the base of his neck while his hands have wandered to your waist so now he is pulling you towards him until he ends up in his lap. His face is now so close, and even in the dark, you can see the cheesy smile on his pink lips.
“You’re not saying this just to keep me here because you’re scared to be alone, right?” he asks, clearly joking, earning a wholehearted laugh from you.
“No, but I guess that would be a major benefit of it.”
“I’ll protect you from all the demons and killers under one condition,” he smirks, his face already inching closer, his nose is already touching yours.
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
“I get to kiss you.”
“Deal.”
You barely say this one little word, his lips are already on yours, kissing you in a way that almost knocks all the air out of your lungs. You press yourself up against him, his arms curling around you, holding you tight as if he is already protecting you from everything that scares you, though you can’t really think about the stupid horror movies now that you’re kissing Harry.
He pulls you down with himself making you lie on your back as he holds himself up above you, his lips parting from your just enough so he can look into your eyes.
“How about I kiss you every time you feel scared?” he prompts, pecking your lips gently as you pull your legs up and his hips settle between your thighs, while your hands dance down his back.
“Alright, I’m in,” you smirk at him and for a moment he just stares back at you, smiling wide, in complete awe that it’s finally happening. Then he cocks his head to the side before speaking up.
“Are you still scared?”
“Very,” you nod. “I’m shaking.”
“Good,” he grins before his lips press onto yours again.
Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!
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chateautae · 3 years
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maybe i do | kth. II
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➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.
↳  part of the high-class series!
➵ pairing : taehyung x reader
➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst
➵ rating : 18+
➵ word count : 10k
➵ warnings : none really, swearing, mainly fluffy and funny interactions, some angst! :o 
➵ a/n: and i’m back with chapter two! i really wanted to say thank you for the love and support i received on the first part of maybe i do, it was astounding!! i’m so grateful so many people loved the story and asked to be tagged (all at the bottom <3), it made me feel so motivated to write. if you would also like to be tagged please message me. your feedback is always appreciated! 
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chapter two : “on my pillow, can’t get me tired” 
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Taehyung didn’t remember sleeping anywhere near you last night. 
He remembered that even though you willingly agreed to share the same bed, he still opted for caution and slept with the most space between you two as possible.
Though when his eyes fluttered open the next morning, eyeballs burning from the light that bled into the suite, the first thing he realized was that he was not on his side of the bed from last night. 
No, he had somehow gravitated towards the center, and as if almost on cue, your slight movement and the sound of your breathing alerted him of your nearby presence. 
Peering down at you, Taehyung caught sight of your sleepy head turned towards him and lying on his arm, his other thrown over your torso with you unsuspectingly nuzzled into his side.
Taehyung’s eyes shot open, acknowledging he had succumbed to his habit of hugging something to sleep during the course of the night and he internally panicked. He began retracting his arms slowly, just about drawing himself from you until alarms rang in his head at the sight of you stirring in your sleep. 
Taehyung took the golden opportunity to sit up in a flash, having to physically shake his head to rid the image of your tranquil, sleeping face from his brain, crushing the thought that it was kind of cute.
He found himself chanting the same denial from last night, he couldn’t be thinking of such complicated things concerning you when he knew the second he’d step foot inside his home, there’d be a mountain of paperwork ready for him; even more on his work desk.
He had to be thinking about his job, not you.  
Even if Taehyung was married now, it wouldn’t lessen the amount of work that plagued his life nor make it any less demanding. If anything, his life would be harder now considering the fact that he had another priority to add to his list, another aspect of his life he had to split his attention between. 
He didn’t necessarily hate the idea, just found himself needing to work harder than he already was. 
Taehyung sighed heavily at the thought and swung his legs off the bed, rubbing his tired eyes. He took a moment to look back at you, thinking if he observed you a second time he’d be able to piece together how the hell you two ended up in that position, that close. 
By evidence of the forgotten blanket half-thrown off you, he could see you were the tossing-and-turning type, maybe the only explanation for your proximity considering he was the same. 
He also noticed you slept all curled up, like you were cold and the only warmth you knew was snuggling yourself.
Cute.
There it was again, cute. 
Why does that word even exist? 
Taehyung discarded the notion altogether and stood to his feet, stretching out his stiff muscles. He made for the bathroom eagerly to begin his day, though not without fixing at least some of the blanket back onto you. 
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“You don’t have a driver?” 
“Not for everywhere I go. I have two hands, I can drive myself.” Taehyung made it a statement to jazz hands at you, showcasing the perfectly capable limbs he was gifted with.
“That’s.. nice, actually. I always see asshole CEO’s getting other people to drive them around.” You relayed as you trailed behind Taehyung, letting him lead you towards the front of the hotel where dozens of expensive cars lined the curb side.
You had no clue which luxury vehicle belonged to Taehyung because quite frankly, he could probably afford every car your eyes caught sight of. It wasn’t until he approached a certain one and retrieved his keys from the valet that your jaw completely dropped, floored.
“This is your car?” You gawked, the sleek design, crispness of its shape and nearly sparkling gloss completely sweeping you off your feet.
“Yeah, think someone like me can’t get a car like this?” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow, gesturing towards himself.   
“It’s just-wow. Mercedes CLS?” You inquired without really looking at him, inspecting the car instead as you admired its every curve. Safe to say, you were beyond in love with it. Even if you were always more of a minimalist and preferred the average product, there was just something gorgeous about luxury cars that appealed to you.
“Yeah, actually it is.” Taehyung looked at you impressed, momentarily reminded of just how different you were compared to any other woman he’s chanced upon. 
How many of them knew car models?
Taehyung was intrigued by the fact before speaking with one of the hotel workers, confirming if they had loaded his car with both your luggage and some wedding sentiments your parents insisted you keep. 
Once receiving affirmation Taehyung made towards your side of the car and pulled the door open. He flashed you a tight-lipped smile as he gestured for you to hop in, drawing you out of your stupor. You thanked him warmly before sliding into your seat. 
He let you scramble in comfortably before shutting the door and walking to his side, positioning himself in and clicking on his seatbelt. He watched as your expression lit up once occupying the car, face beaming with excitement as you touched and drank in at the high-end features the vehicle had to offer. Taehyung found himself smiling before he licked his lips and straightened his face, igniting the engine and beginning the smooth drive. 
It was easy to settle the debate on where you both would be living. Taehyung was an enormously rich CEO who lived in an expensive, massive home while you lived in a measly apartment. You knew it was useless to live separately, even more useless to have him live with you. And so you agreed without protest to pack your things and relocate, begin your move into the house you’d share with him for a lifetime. 
The car ride remained quite silent, you mindlessly bopping your head to whatever mainstream song played on the radio, while Taehyung tapped his fingers against the steering wheel or his lap. 
You found your eyes wandering to his slender fingers wrapped around the wheel every so often, sometimes venturing to the other one he placed against his thigh. You began reprimanding yourself once you realized with all the staring, observing and ogling, you most certainly had a thing for his hands already. 
Fuck. 
They were just so big, bigger than what you’ve seen of the average man and it didn’t help that they looked crafted to perfection. 
There was just something about the veins that decorated them, his palm large in size as his fingers seemed deft turning and working the steering wheel. His little accessories like a ring or two, bracelets and his watch did absolutely nothing to deter your interest either.
It only increased once you realized he looked good driving, really good. You knew men had this common attractiveness to them when they drove, watching them all focused and effortlessly working the car somehow sexy; but watching Taehyung drive was another experience entirely. 
He looked insanely hot, and you felt like throwing yourself out your window for even thinking such a thing. It was another case of you ogling him without realizing until his deep voice suddenly fished you out of your thoughts, questioning. “Did you like the wedding?” 
“Huh?” 
“The wedding, did you like it?” Taehyung repeated, glancing at you. 
“Does it really matter if I did?” You asked, this one phrase seeming to perfectly sum up the misfortune of your life, provoking an ironic laugh even. 
“I think it does. A bride should always enjoy her wedding.” 
“Well, I didn’t.” You deadpanned, your expression turning frustrated having to remember that one of, if not the most special night of your life had just been robbed of you, thrown to the wolves while you were only left to accept the sad fact. 
“C’mon, you didn’t enjoy a single thing?” Taehyung didn’t mean to flash back to the kiss you two shared, though found himself doing exactly so. 
You didn’t enjoy that? he questioned in his head. 
“Not really, I just imagined having more choice in the wedding.” You answered honestly, trying not to sulk so much. “It’s not you, I just... thought I’d be able to decide things at my own wedding. I’m grateful your parents did so much, but I didn’t really get to choose anything.” You grew more solemn as your gaze fixated on nothing, watching the world pass you by through the car window. 
“My favourite flowers weren’t even there.” You said only despondently to yourself, shoulders drooping, though Taehyung didn’t miss it. 
“You don’t like roses?”
Your eyes flashed towards him with furrowed eyebrows, surprised he heard your comment. You straightened up before shrugging back a response. “I like peonies.” 
Taehyung looked at your side profile as you turned away, finding the conversation turning more sorrowful than he liked. He allowed some silence to linger as you leaned your chin against your palm, boringly watching the bustling streets.  
He decided to change the subject.
“So you don’t think I’m an asshole, huh?” 
“What?”
“You said you always see ‘asshole CEO’s’ getting people to drive them around. But I don’t, so I’m not an asshole to you?” Taehyung halved his attention between you and the road, glancing in your direction with one hand working the steering wheel.
You thought the question over, “No, you’re not an asshole.” You said simply, distracted by the thoughts that previously occupied your mind. 
“I see.” Taehyung pursed his lips. Another beat of silence passed through the downcast air before Taehyung perked up again.
“Is it just the driving? Or do you have other criteria?” Taehyung asked inquisitively, leaning back into his seat as he observed you. 
You could detect from the corner of your eyes the way his stance drew attention to his legs, thighs broad as he sat. “I guess there is.” 
“Like what?”
You didn’t really know why Taehyung was so curious. You thought it was common knowledge what the stereotypical asshole CEO was like; they were nearly all jerks with horrible one-percenter mentalities and treated people like gravel.  
You scoffed a bit. “They’re usually so full of themselves. They act like they own the place all the time, which makes sense at their own companies but not everywhere else. It’s like the position gets to their heads. Even the way they talk is condescending, belittling, or straight up rude to anyone not on their level. It wouldn’t kill to be nice.” You revealed almost too eagerly, avoiding eye contact with Taehyung as you viewed the traffic on the road ahead, remembering he was a CEO himself. 
Long story short, you’ve had your fair share of experiences meeting them as you grew up during the beginnings of your father’s company. They were quick to skew your opinion ever since you watched the way they treated your father all due to having a start-up, for simply being small in name or reputation. They acted like he was less than, some even daring to behave as though his company would simply never make it. 
It always boiled your blood, left an extremely distasteful image of CEOs and the business world in your head. 
And you were certain it all sucked after that. 
“Understandable.” Taehyung nodded agreeably. “But you think I don’t fit any of that?” He rested a hand against his thigh, sitting laxed as he spread his legs apart further. This time it was definitely hard to miss the way they appeared, all laid out and long as your eyes drank him in, following up his thighs all the way to his-
“You don’t. I thought maybe since you’re super successful you’d be full of yourself. But you’re not, really.” You snapped yourself out of whatever the hell you were doing, trying to refocus on the conversation.
“Ah, seems like a stepping stone.” 
“Stepping stone? Towards what?”
“Towards you not hating me.” His voice came out with a more solemn timbre than you expected, his jaw tightening for a mere second. 
Taehyung only thought such a thing because even if he decided you didn’t harbour negative feelings towards him, there was no way of him determining whether that was true or not without your real input. 
“I don’t hate you, Taehyung. I don’t.. think I can.” You claimed with poignancy, his statement causing you to reflect on your own feelings about him. 
You don’t hate Taehyung, you couldn’t because he did absolutely nothing wrong in this situation. He was dragged in just like you were. You only despised the unfairness of the arrangement, not him. 
There wasn’t much to hate about him.  
“So you’re saying you like me then, aren’t you?” Taehyung suddenly teased light-heartedly, all smug as his amused eyes flickered to you. 
“Shut up, I never said that.” You turned away, scandalized by his remark. 
“I’m kidding. But, why do you think you can’t hate me? I pretty much.. ruined your life.” Taehyung internally felt his chest tighten at the words, remembering the exact thoughts from where he stood no less than 24 hours ago, seconds from lawfully marrying you. 
“And I didn’t ruin yours?” This time you turned your gaze towards Taehyung, meaningfully. Your eyes instinctively communicated your emotions as they locked with his for a moment, Taehyung all attentive. 
“I took away from you just as much you took away from me. We both ruined each other’s lives, there’s no use in blaming each other. That’s why I can’t hate you.” You finalized, crossing your arms and opting to watch the passing buildings through your window again. 
Taehyung absorbed your sudden confession with reason, realizing that in a sense, you two were partners in this unfortunate case. Even if your matrimony constituted a forced partnership neither of you liked, there seemed to be a natural comradery in having to deal with the aftermath of that forced partnership. 
Trying to accept it. 
“I don’t think I can hate you, either.” Taehyung admitted, ending the more miserable part of the conversation as you fell silent. You thought he was done until he decided to bother you again. 
“I think you’re still saying you like me, though.” 
You turned to him half-appalled before pointing towards the road, eyes narrowed. “Just drive us home, will you?” 
Taehyung laughed at the moment and pressed down on the accelerator, internally grinning at the fact you never said no to his statement. 
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“This is your house?” You found yourself gawking again at something that belonged to Taehyung, stepping inside a luxury home you’ve only ever dreamed of living in. Sure, you lived with your parents until you were 18, though your father was still starting out with his company for most of those years, not exactly owning anything too luxurious until after you permanently moved out.
So as you stood trying to prop your heels off yourself, your jaw dropped at the sheer elegance and high-status look to the interior of Taehyung’s home. You had already done enough gawking at the exterior, but being inside and processing the fact that you were now to inhabit this home for the rest of your life sent another wave of shock. 
You immediately observed Taehyung was the type who decorated his home with only the finest, his taste easily identifiable. Aesthetic, lavish, charming. He seemed like a man of utter simplicity though his home said otherwise, showcasing an artistic, exquisite feel you never really expected from him. 
“When will you stop saying that?” He titled his head and smiled through a laugh, removing his shoes and slipping into his indoor slippers. 
“Right, sorry.” You were still struggling for normalcy, somehow forgetting almost every hour Taehyung’s wealth and only registering it once you saw something that indicated it. 
Taehyung sauntered inside and took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of his abode. He enjoyed nothing more than being home, in the comfort of his own space. Especially for someone who worked so busily, he found pleasure in doing the bare minimum at home. Relishing in the feeling right now, he pressed his lips together in a smile before glancing back at your struggling figure, catching sight of your size. 
His eyebrows shot up to the sky. “Woah, you’re short.” 
“Huh?” 
“I think I’ve only ever seen you in heels.” Taehyung informed. “Now that you’re not wearing them you’re a lot shorter than I thought. You’re tiny.” He pointed out as he eyed you from head to toe, processing the amount of height you lost simply from removing your shoes. 
“I mean, that’s kind of what heels do, you know, they add height.” You deadpanned, stating the obvious for him. 
“Sorry, it’s just..” Kind of cute, he thought, though fought for another response. “I could probably throw you.” 
Nice save. 
“Excuse me? It’s not my fault you’re so tall.” You scowled at him. “Besides, you’re all height and no muscle, you probably can’t even carry me.” 
“Wanna see me try?” Taehyung was already coming towards you with his arms held out and you sputtered immediately, “No, no, no.” you held your hands up defensively. “Let’s just start the house tour, yeah?” you offered a smile for compromise. 
“That’s what I thought.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes coyly and turned on his heel, signaling you to follow him. 
What you realized strolling through the home as Taehyung discussed its details was that it emphatically represented him like an open book. Even if Taehyung was predominantly unreadable and seemed to always hide a mystery behind his eyes, you could see nearly all of him reflected in his home. 
You often found valuable trinkets or sentiments scattered around the house. It seemed like he cherished a lot of things in his life, namely memories or people. It would also be hard to miss the exquisite selection of paintings and embellishments he draped the walls with, all harbouring their own charm and adding to the overall artistic feel of his home. 
There were famous works consisting of Vincent Van Gogh all the way to local Korean artists you’ve never heard of, though admired their work. 
It seemed as though he selected the paintings himself. 
Another large aspect you couldn’t miss were the many photos he kept, calling to question whether they were of his own work. 
“Did you take these?” You approached a shelf in one of his grand hallways on the second floor, hand brushing the wooden frame of a captured photo; six men including Taehyung himself posing comfortably, like they were extremely close, backdrop reflecting what seemed to be a trip.  
“I took all of them.” He stated casually, hands tucked into his pockets as he eyed the shelf along with you. 
“All?” 
He simply nodded and didn’t elaborate further as he watched you admire the photos, yourself impressed by his adeptness for photography. 
“You’re really good.” You complimented absentmindedly, enjoying the other photos of not only people but scenery, empty streets, candid shots from what looked to be his own little adventures. 
“Thanks.” Was all Taehyung could manage, trying to mask the sheer gratitude he felt hearing the first ever person to admire his work; something that wasn’t related to being a CEO or a businessman. 
He also felt slightly embarrassed you’d seen a small part of him he usually hid.
Taehyung continued walking down the hallway until he reached the end, revealing what you could tell was the largest room in the house. You were thrown off by just how unnecessarily large it was. It seriously reminded you of an extravagant hotel suite, more like the grandest one among them. 
“This is our room.” Taehyung introduced, gesturing towards its interior. 
“Our?” 
Taehyung nodded “I should’ve told you earlier but I wanted us to sleep in the same room. If we slept apart our marriage wouldn’t look convincing to my two housekeepers. I trust them but I don’t want any information about us getting out to the public, not over my dead body.” Taehyung stated in earnest as he relayed the information, wandering further into the room. 
“You really care that much about publicity?” you genuinely questioned. 
Taehyung scoffed. “Not me, I couldn’t care less about what people think.” He denied instantly, almost laughably. “It’s my father. He hates bad press, especially concerning our family or the company.” 
“I thought bad press is still press, so it’s good.” You suggested as you followed him further into the room, admiring that though large, his room held a sense of comfort to it. Quite frankly, all of his home felt rather welcoming and cozy, surprising of a CEO who ran such a monstrously successful company.
“My father doesn’t think so. Kim Enterprises has always been generational, each of our CEO positions strictly kept within the family. Our name is our brand and pride, it alone accounts for at least half of our success. We’re extremely well-known for our high status, it’s just plain fact in the upper social circles of Korea. We can’t afford to taint our name with petty things like bad press or corruption, our reputation is too valuable.” Taehyung stated this all nonchalantly as he adjusted his suit jacket in his mirror, like it was something he’s grown accustomed to and has known all his life. 
You found your opinion impeding his words.  
“So you can never just, escape this life? As long as you’re a Kim you’re bound to this company?” You found the concept wildly restrictive, clearly shackling down any person that would run the business and you felt a disagreeing shiver shoot through your spine. 
“Of course, why would you want anything else?” Taehyung tiled his head to the side, eyeing you in genuine questioning and your entire being was trying to bite back the desire to correct him, tell him there’s so much more to life than just some company your family owns. Though you opted for changing the subject instead, unwilling to step on his toes and dictate his life when you knew next to nothing about it. 
It wasn’t your place. 
“Woah, you have a balcony?!” You exclaimed with a simper, eyes flickering towards the curtains that revealed two ajar French doors leading to an open space.
You made towards it excitedly and stopped just in the middle of the platform, enjoying the breeze of the fresh air.
“It’s my favourite part of the house.” You didn’t even realize Taehyung followed you until his towering figure stood directly behind you, feeling his proximity permeate through your body. 
You swallowed. 
“Why don’t you look at the view?” Taehyung cocked his head towards the railing of the balcony, though you didn’t move a step. 
You weren’t about to tell Taehyung you’re terribly afraid of heights.
“I-I can see from here. Wow, looks beautiful.” You perked up superficially, trying to throw him off and changing the subject again. “By the way, what’s our closet situation gonna look like?” 
“Ah, let me show you.” Taehyung strided back into the room towards the sliding double doors you spotted earlier. He almost theatrically glided both dark wooden panels open and your jaw dropped for the 47th time today. 
You were welcomed by a ridiculously large walk-in closet, enough to be renovated into its own bedroom. You simply couldn’t normalize its size, especially after registering every suit, tie, watch or accessory Taehyung stored in the gracious space. 
You couldn’t even begin to imagine how much money lied in here. 
“Oh my God.” Was all you could manage, meandering in sparingly as you viewed each and every expensive piece he owned in the room, no doubt of the highest quality designers, finest of men’s fashion. 
“You don’t have to worry about unpacking and moving in here, the housekeepers will do that for you.” Taehyung watched as you looked upon in awe, finding the way your eyes sparkled with emotion very similar to that of Bambi’s.  
“How will I fit-”
“I specifically made space for you, there’s enough.” Taehyung stated, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. He’d resolved a while ago he really would try to take this marriage seriously, victoriously achieve the work-life balance his father kept preaching. 
He saw giving up his closet space as the first step. 
It was indeed so because Taehyung thoroughly enjoyed fashion. He genuinely adored every suit, accessory and outfit in his collection, though if he wanted to reach this new goal of balance, successfully add you to his list of priorities, then he had to be willing to cut down. 
Even if that meant reallocating a third of his exorbitant wardrobe just for you, he’d try not to mind. 
“Are you sure? I could just use another room’s-” 
“I want to.” Taehyung finalized as his eyes turned unreadable from across the room, locking his gaze with yours and you were only left to look back impressed, his generosity unforeseen. 
“Thank you.” You voiced a little weak, still shy by the suffocating nature of his stare. 
“Don’t mention it.” He offered plainly, propping himself off the wall. He looked off to the side eyeing the empty pockets of space he left for you, until your voice called out to him.  
“Taehyung.”
“Hm?” He snapped his vision back to you. 
You wanted to ask him something, more so a favour and you were unsure how to word the request. “Um.. I didn’t want to ask so openly, but..” You found yourself beating around the bush, timid of what his response would be. 
“Go on.” 
“Um, so it seemed like there were a lot of empty rooms in this house, and I was just wondering if I could maybe.. transform one of them into an art studio for myself?” You winced at your own request. 
“I’m sorry, it’s just I had one at my old place and it really grew on me. I would get most of my work done in that room and gained a lot of inspiration from it. I have a lot of art supplies and designed often in that studio, so I need a home for all my supplies and it would suck getting rid of it all. I’m sorry it means I would have to steal one of your rooms in the house, if you don’t want me to then-” 
Taehyung couldn’t help but break out into a small grin as he watched you ramble on, shyly fidget with your fingers, so apprehensive of asking him for something and it reminded him why he was so eager to provide you with anything you wanted. 
You spent too long trying to do everything on your own, achieve everything on your own, relying solely on yourself. Taehyung could see this all as plain as day, quite enjoying of how he’s never really met someone like you, and wanted you to know you didn’t always have to be so independent.  
Especially with him. 
“Y/N.” He called out to you with the same honey-coloured tone from last night, stopping you. Your eyes flickered to his, awaiting his next sentence and Taehyung already found himself having a thing for your doe-eyes. 
Fuck. 
“Of course you can have a room. You can have anything in this house. It’s yours.” Taehyung stated with a degree of assurance, his eyes locking with yours in earnest. 
You both shared a look as your lips curved into a gracious smile, biting your lip to contain it. His stare wasn’t so much intimidating as it was merely.. calm. Gazing at you for the sole purpose of gazing, and you found some heat rushing to your face under his scrutiny. 
Taehyung seemed to realize he was staring and immediately cleared his throat, turning a little nervous as he began another conversation. “So um, I’m sorry to say this,” he began with unease, almost apprehensive and you didn’t know what he was so sorry about. “But I have work today.” 
You blinked. “What?” 
Taehyung internally winced at your reaction, hands finding his pockets. “I took some time off for the wedding, so now I have twice the amount of work left behind. I need to complete it.” He informed straightforwardly. 
“Our wedding was just yesterday, though, aren’t you tired?” You were only taken aback because you were slightly concerned for his wellbeing, wasn’t he tired from yesterday? You recalled him knocking out almost immediately upon hitting the pillow of your hotel bed last night, snoozing away. 
“Maybe, but I can’t afford to rest. I’ll only have more to complete if I do, so I won’t be spending anymore time with you today.” Taehyung relayed the information, readying himself for the even greater disappointing news he’d be passing on. 
“Actually, we won’t be able to go on our honeymoon, either.” Taehyung thought it was best to slip in all the bad news, growing more and more unrelaxed as he was unsure of how you’d react. 
Though what you said next had him nearly floored.
“Honeymoon? Taehyung, that’s the least of my concerns, you should at least rest a day before getting back to work. That’s not really healthy.” You chastised him as lightly as possible, still afraid to be stepping on his toes when you didn’t know his life. 
Taehyung was certain you’d hate having been stripped of a beautiful vacation where you could’ve relaxed in the sun and tropics of Cancun. Your father had mentioned to him you’ve always longed to visit the breath-taking city in Mexico, its clear waters and tropical air as a means to truly get away from your stifling life. 
So when he found you disregarding the trip altogether and instead focusing on him, more precisely his health, he was left damn well speechless. 
There you were again paying attention to the littlest things about him he didn’t care much for; he still had that bandage you offered him a month ago tucked into one of his pockets, not wanting to use the adhesive just yet. 
“I’ll be fine. I’m just sorry we can’t go on the vacation because of me, it would’ve been nice, you know?” Taehyung apologized, feeling genuinely guilty for having ruined the honeymoon. Even if you two weren’t going to travel as some lovey-dovey couple, you both simply could’ve enjoyed the time off.
“It’s okay, just, at least work from home today. Heading to the office would be too much.” You suggested for the sake of the fatigue you could discern on him. 
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m gonna be home for the next few days since everyone thinks we’ll be on our honeymoon.” 
“Oh. That’s.. good.” You nodded faintly, half at the idea you two were even faking your honeymoon and half at the blasphemous energy he had to work after yesterday. 
The sleep from last night was nearly not enough to recharge from the antics of the wedding, having drained your batteries for the next few days. You were certain his were drained too; he was half the damn couple. 
“I should get going. I’ll send Mrs. Choi and Seo up with your things. They’re probably finished with lunch too, you should eat.” Taehyung advised as he stepped out of the walk-in closet, running a hand through his gorgeous hair and you couldn’t help but ogle at the sexy way his strands fell back on him. 
“Okay.” You voiced as you followed him out, watching him near the room’s door and just about to vacate the premise before you spoke up. “Taehyung.” 
He stopped in his tracks, peering back at you. “Yes?” 
“You should eat something, too.”
Taehyung half-smiled at you with a nod “Sure”, before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone. 
And you couldn’t help but kind of like the way he smiles. 
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It was well into the evening now, bordering dinner time as you helped the last of your clothes into Taehyung’s closet, refusing to let the older housekeepers do all the work by themselves considering it was your own luggage. 
You also tried to occupy Taehyung’s room as scarcely as you could with your belongings, feeling odd about suddenly moving in with all your might and changing things around. It just didn’t feel appropriate, like you were invading his space and so you opted for scattering only your necessary items.
“That should be the last of it, Mrs. Choi.” You retrieved your last piece of clothing from the rather soft-spoken housekeeper, tucking the blazer away among the rest. You were satisfied to see not only your wardrobe neatly organized now, but fit just about right with Taehyung’s things. 
He was right about space, there was enough.
“Mrs. Kim, please rest. You didn't have to move a muscle at all for us.” Mrs. Choi remarked, genuinely concerned for you. 
“Yes, please, Mrs. Kim. We can finish up with the little things. I’ve just finished preparing dinner downstairs, you should eat.” Mrs. Seo chimed in as she entered the walk-in closet, gesturing towards the door. 
“Are you sure? I can-”
“Mrs. Kim, you’re very kind for offering your help, we’re very grateful you’ve done so. Though we are Mr. Kim’s housekeepers, we are meant to care for his home and his lovely wife. You need not worry about helping us.” Mrs. Choi stated with an earnest tone, speaking respectfully as she addressed you. 
You were going to protest again before you considered her words, registering that if you indeed helped them, it would technically negate the entire purpose of their work. 
You bit back your reply as a result, crafting a new one. 
“I see, I’m sorry, Mrs. Seo, Mrs. Choi. I’m just.. very used to doing things on my own,” you looked towards the ground. “I apologize.” You almost dipped for a bow until Mrs. Choi rapidly cautioned you, scrambling towards your figure. 
“Oh dear, Mrs. Kim! You do not need to bow to us, you’re Mr. Kim’s wife, you are the one who is bowed to.” 
“Yes, you do not need to apologize either, we appreciate your help, it was very sweet of you.” Mrs. Seo added with a warm smile, bowing to you instead. “Please go for dinner downstairs, I’ve also informed Mr. Kim for dinner, though I’m unsure if he has made his way down yet.” She added on, urging you towards the room's exit and you recognized it was probably better to listen to her. 
Even if all this high-class, status stuff had yet to sink in or make sense to you after being away for so long, you understood there was an eventual tolerance you had to build for it. Just as Mrs. Choi said, you’re Kim Taehyung’s wife now, and that came with a hell lot of status you hadn’t even scratched the surface of yet.
You could already tell it was going to be a pain in the ass. 
“I suppose I should. I’ll get going, then.” You smiled graciously at both women, appreciative of their kindness and began vacating the closet. You just about pulled the room door open before Mrs. Seo suddenly came to you.
“Oh! Mrs. Kim,” she halted you. “I was informed by Mr. Kim to provide this to you. He would have done so himself though he’s quite busy at the moment.” Mrs. Seo extended her hand and presented a pristine looking card, black and incredibly sleek in design. Your eyebrows furrowed until you noticed the telltale symbols, almost ominously minimal branding indicating a rare card only those with some of the highest networths in Korea could own. 
Your eyes widened in horror. 
The Black Card. 
“P-pardon?” You needed her to reiterate, there was no way Kim Taehyung was giving you a black card, the same card that was limitless on credit and only exclusively owned by the affluent one-percenters of society. 
“He’s informed me this belongs to you now, and that you’re to keep it in your possession.” Mrs. Seo elaborated, smiling through the mental whiplash you were currently experiencing.  
“Belongs to.. me? This is mine?” You were still having trouble processing, why would Taehyung be gifting you this? Who’s account was it even attached to? Was it yours and he’s decided to graciously pay all the expensive fees, or worse, was it joined with his own account? 
Don’t tell me it’s joined with his account.  
“Yes, Mrs. Kim. It’s yours.” Mrs. Seo held it out more outwardly, nudging it in your direction. 
Your mouth fell agape for another second before you mentally collected yourself, quickly grabbing the card and thanking her as you made your exit, marching through the house for Taehyung’s unbelievable ass. 
Taehyung could not be providing you with this card. It was irrational, simply had to have been a decision he made with at least two bottles of soju in him, right? You didn’t care what his reasoning would be, you were denying and returning this. There was no way in hell you’d accept this card, especially if he linked his own personal account to it. 
You tried loosely recalling where Taehyung mentioned his study, logically assuming he was working there. You inspected majority of the second floor, working your way through the halls until you finally caught sight of the familiar wooden doors with glass panels, slightly ajar, light bleeding through.
You made for the room quickly and stormed in without a care, attempting to steady your breathing from all the rushing around. You caught Taehyung completely off guard, having shredded his suit jacket to instead sport the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt, adorning black-rimmed, designer glasses. 
He looked 100x hotter than he should’ve. 
Taehyung suddenly propped up from the leaned-back position he’d assumed on his chair, expression caught by surprise. “Y/N?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowing. 
You held up the card and addressed him immediately. “Taehyung, what’s this? Why are you giving this to me?” You huffed, looking at him incredulously. 
“The card? For you to use..?” Taehyung responded cooperatively, confused as to why you seemed so frazzled. 
“But why, Taehyung? This is a black card, the annual fees on this are insane and I can’t pay-” 
“You’re not paying for them, I am.” Taehyung cut in, shutting the binder he was holding and placing it on his desk. 
“What? No, no way. If it’s my account then I should be the one-”
“It’s not your account, either, it’s mine.” Taehyung brought his elbows to his desk, hands clasped together in front of his lips. It was now he gave you that same intimidating stare he did back when you first met him, calculative and devoid of expression. 
It seemed he did this when he got serious. 
“Your account? But-Taehyung, this is your money, I can’t just have it. Please, take this back.” You stepped towards his desk to return the card eagerly, but Taehyung’s firm tone stopped you. 
“No, it’s yours. I gave it to you to keep.” His words held this underlying sense of authority, scratch that, dominance when he spoke seriously, resolute. You could instantly tell he possessed a natural sense of alpha male characteristics, enough that even though he wasn’t being harsh or looming, his words and the tone he coated them with held more power than you could manifest. 
You almost cowered, but remained adamant on returning the card. It was worse with the card attached to his account, you couldn’t just keep Taehyung’s money like it was your own, it simply wasn’t. Your money sat ordinarily in a separate account on a separate card, which you were happy enough to use. You weren’t going to mooch off of him, it went against every principle that made up your very being. 
“This is your money, Taehyung. I have no right to use it.” 
“You’re my wife. You have every right in the world to use it.” Taehyung countered with no emotion, or at least any you could discern, uncertain what was running through his mind with only his eyes as a guide towards the answer. 
And you knew his eyes didn’t tell. 
“Taehyung, this doesn’t feel right to me. This isn’t my money and I can’t use it.” You emphasized more strongly, drawing closer to his desk though halting your actions once he spoke again. 
“My money is your money, you can always use it.” You knew he was relaxed, appearing practically unbothered as he leaned onto his desk and eyed you. Though with the intense look in his eyes, his aura screaming for anyone within the vicinity to submit to him, he could easily seem frustrated with the situation, namely you. 
And it made you want to crawl into a hole.
“No, it isn’t. I’ve already intruded your home, taken your closet, your room and even an extra one just for myself. I will not take your money either. Please, take this back.” You held out the card more prominently, desperate to have him understand you.
Taehyung wasn’t necessarily frustrated by you, no, he was slightly pissed you kept referring to everything as just his and not yours, that he was the only one considering you two as a married couple now while you still viewed each other separately.
Did you not see him as your husband yet?
He also disliked the fact that you seemed scared of him, or unable to trust him like last night. He could see you fighting back the urge to cower away, genuinely upsetting him you still held a degree of fear and unsureness in your eyes. 
Why are you so afraid of me? 
“Y/N, everything isn’t just mine anymore, it’s yours, too. We’re a married couple, husband and wife. What’s mine is yours.” Taehyung tried to reason, loosening himself up more to seem less intimidating, more approachable.
“But money, Taehyung-it’s different. I didn’t even want to take my own father’s money, there’s no way I’ll take yours, please.” Pleading leaked into your tone as you lips started doing that thing where they just about pout, emphasizing their plushiness and Taehyung couldn’t help but notice it again. 
He started growing frustrated as he removed his glasses, placing them on his desk and pinching the bridge of his nose. It seemed like he was digesting the situation, searching for the best approach.
“Y/N, look. I know the kind of situation you had with your father, but I’m not him. Didn’t you hear what Mrs. Choi and Seo addressed you as?” 
You thought it over, unknowing of where he was taking this. “They.. called me Mrs. Kim.”
“Exactly. Even my last name is yours, everything I have is yours. I’m your husband, I’m always going to provide you with things from now on. That card is just one of many.” Taehyung offered his best explanation, making sure his tone wasn’t as serious to sidetrack any fear you still had.
“I understand. But this is a black card, Taehyung, and it’s your hard-earned money, not mine. It feels wrong even just having it.” You couldn’t fight your inner turmoil, you genuinely believed this to be wrong. After spending almost a decade trying to work for yourself, pay for yourself, seldom seeking the help of another, this just left a disagreeing feeling to churn in your stomach.
Taehyung sighed heavily before pushing his chair back, rising from his seat. He made his way over to you where you grew unintentionally defensive, retracting from him slightly as he neared you. He noticed it and pursed his lips, reaching out for your upper arms and taking them warmly, tenderly, waiting for your eyes to meet his before he spoke to you.
“Y/N, do you remember what I said before I kissed you yesterday?”
Your eyes widened having been reminded of the intimate moment, nodding at him innocently. Taehyung witnessed you trying to avoid eye contact and found himself softening. 
“I didn’t say that without reason. I meant it when I said I would take care of you. Your father is a different story, if you don’t want to use his money, I respect that. But I’m your husband, and I want to be a good one. I want to give you things.. do things for you simply because I want to.” Taehyung reasoned, gripping you lightly. “I want you to use my money, you’re allowed to use it.” He tried voicing with sincerity, earnestly, hoping he could change your mind.
He saw you still hesitating to accept the offer, however, deciding on a compromise.
“Look, you don’t have to use it all the time. You can still use your own card, but you can use mine here and there. Seriously, Y/N, using it won’t even make a dent on me. I’m the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, use it at your discretion.” Taehyung could practically see your gears shifting, searching for your eyes as he wished you’d understand him. 
He saw this as a second step towards work-life balance, only feeling the responsibility and genuine desire to be the good husband in spite of the unfortunate nature of your marriage. He didn’t want any doubt concerning his ability to be a good husband, either.
After all, when Taehyung did something, he always did the best he possibly could.
“Okay, I guess you’re right. But I do have my own money, and I’ll be using that 100x more often than yours.” You relaxed and oddly let him hold you, looking down at the black card that rested in your hand and clutching it to your palm.
Taehyung realized he was still holding you and let go, retiring to fluff his hair instead. You caught a glimpse of his bicep underneath his rolled up sleeve as he did so, and you truly hated you chose a time like this to find him stunningly attractive.
“You should come downstairs, Mrs. Seo prepared dinner.” You ignored your thoughts.
“You go first, I’ll be down in a second.”
You nodded agreeably and turned away, leaving his study. You took a second look at the card in your hand, then glanced around the house as you strolled through it, trying to embed what Taehyung said into the crevices of your resistant thinking.
Everything I have is yours, you reiterated, registering that Taehyung had in fact grown accustomed to the idea of you two as a couple already. He’s accepted it, embraced it, even enforced it now with his earlier declarations and this black card. You automatically felt behind, like you were the tortoise in the race and needed to pick up your pace.
If Taehyung had already come to terms with your marriage, it was only a matter of time before you did as well. Marriage is a two-way street, and if you wanted to make this easier on both yourself and Taehyung, you would compromise with him, accept the true sense of partnership that entailed your status as husband and wife.
Thus was the exact mantra that played in your head as you fiddled with the card, remembering the way his big hands held you.
Warm.
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It was night. 
You could say it was like any other ordinary night, though that would be a gargantuan lie. 
This night was the first time Taehyung and yourself were going to sleep in the same bed.
In your own home. 
The hotel suite left you both with your own space and privacy since it was a random, public room with no personality or attachment to it whatsoever, making it easier and comfortable to sleep with him.
So when you emerged from your walk-in closet in a thin camisole, loose pajama shorts and without a bra, you were cursing yourself. God damn you for needing to sleep in minimal clothing for comfort. You’d slept in a loose t-shirt and bottoms at the suite last night since it was a public room, and long story short, it left you tossing and turning more than you liked. 
You had no clue prior to arriving here that you’d be sharing a room with Taehyung. You’d expected to sleep in a different one, in the privacy of your own room where you could prance around as you wished and as a result packed your usual sleepwear. 
But now that you were left having to slumber with Taehyung, clothes on the more revealing side, there was no turning back. 
And what there was truly no turning back from, was when you opened the closet door and your eyes landed on Taehyung’s shirtless, wet self drying his hair after a shower. 
You immediately malfunctioned.
Your eyes fell to his bare back, ruffling his wet hair as his plaid pajama pants hung loosely at his hips. You immediately exclaimed and clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to shut yourself up. 
You did not expect at all for Taehyung to have such honey-coloured skin. It was like it naturally glowed, a healthy tone that made him appear all the more delectable. It certainly didn’t help that his shoulders were broader than you first observed, sincerely an other-worldly experience when he wasn’t wearing clothes. 
You also got an all-access view of his trap muscles, adding to the width of his shoulders overall and when Taehyung turned around to the sound of the closet door opening, gaze locking with yours, you could confirm his neck, chest and collarbones were indeed crafted to perfection.
Taehyung’s eyes widened momentarily drinking you in, not expecting your light sleepwear when just last night he witnessed you in a full pajama set. Not to mention, and he hated that he could tell, but you weren't wearing a bra. 
And the camisole did nothing to hide that. 
Taehyung straightened himself up realizing you two were practically gawking at each other, resting the towel around his neck as he cleared his throat. “That’s what you sleep in?” 
“That’s what you sleep in?” You retorted, arms over your chest. 
“Guys usually sleep shirtless, this is normal.” Taehyung gestured towards his own body and you had half a mind to floor yourself. It’s like Taehyung knew but also didn’t know he was hot, knew the effect he had on people though never grew cocky or proud enough to purposefully parade it around. 
And it frustrated you even more; he was fairly humble about being a sexy Greek God. 
“Girls sleep like this too, this is normal.” You copied him, looking off to the side. 
“I was kidding, I only sleep shirtless sometimes. Just get in bed.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes as he gestured towards the sheets, returning to his palace of a bathroom to toss his towel in the hamper and pull a t-shirt over his head. 
You wanted to move, feet just about ready to carry you but you never abandoned your spot. Instead, you pressed your lips into a thin line contemplating that sharing a bed with Taehyung, in clothes like this and in such proximity, all held a degree of intimacy you didn’t know you two shared yet. 
It’s only been a day. 
So when Taehyung returned to your unmoving figure, arms holding your chest and avoiding eye contact with him, he was quick to get the message. 
“Um.. if you really don’t want to sleep here, I can give you another room.” Taehyung offered, figuring himself this may be too soon. 
“No, it’s okay, that’d be kind of a hassle.” You waved him off. “Besides, your bed looks comfy.”
You were honestly trying to live up to your acceptance that Taehyung was the man you’d spend your life with now, so you’d better start getting use to him. You’d sleep next to him for numerous nights, spend endless days together and share a multitude of things; this would simply just be a first of many first times. 
So you paddled over to the bed and removed the covers to snuggle yourself in, the bed’s coolness sending a shiver through you before you hugged the blanket to yourself. Taehyung stood with a smile before crawling in himself, adjusting the covers to his liking. 
He felt at peace in a matter of seconds, the feeling of his own bed lulling him into a state of slumber already. He reached his arm out to shut off the lamp on his bedside table, leaving the room pitch dark and only his digital clock and balcony as a light source. 
You began to cower a bit in the darkness, thankful for the sheer curtains that allowed the moonlight to spill into the room. 
You felt another shiver run through your body when you shifted, realizing you were cold even under the sheets. You tried warming up on your own by shimmying the blanket around more comfortably, but it didn't do much. 
You were left lying on the bed trying to think warm thoughts, unintentionally breathing in the constant scent of Taehyung from his bed; his cologne, his aftershave, his body wash all filling your nostrils.
It was intoxicating, absolutely distracting and sleep began to slip your mind. It didn’t help that you were still cold too, moving around and turning onto your side where you now faced Taehyung. 
He seemed to have already dozed off, face tranquil as he slept soundlessly on his back. You couldn't help but admire his side-profile, the sparse moonlight illuminating his features. It was hard to not stretch your hand out and nearly run a touch along his cheek, like he was a rare work of art that naturally called for admiration.
You realized turning towards him that he radiated a wave of warmth from his body, remembering boys were pretty much furnaces while girls usually froze.
How wonderful it is to be a woman. 
You desired some of that heat and shuffled just a little closer to Taehyung, nearing the center of the bed. You discerned he was indeed warm and maneuvered slightly closer, just about stopping at the center of the bed. You fought back the urge to shimmy any closer, leaving a mindful gap between you two. 
You were seconds from catching a peace of mind until Taehyung unexpectedly spoke in the silence of the night, startling you. 
“You can come closer, I don’t bite.” The smirk in his voice was obvious, making you scrunch your nose and snap back at him. 
“Shut up, I’m not getting closer to you.” 
“You should, I’m really warm, and I can tell you’re cold.” There he was again teasing, his tone coy as he kept his eyes shut, unbothered. 
“Over my dead body.” You mocked him from earlier, turning away from him abruptly and pulling the covers over your head. 
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Coffee was probably your favourite thing life had to offer. One of the couple things you’d fight someone over; coffee and your independence, if you wanted to be specific. 
So it made you genuinely happy Taehyung had such a wide selection of coffee to choose from, ranging from all kinds of beans to instant coffee, cappuccinos, lattes, mochas, you name it. It took no time for you to craft a cup to your liking, shuffle into a seat on the island and begin picking at the breakfast the housekeepers had whipped up earlier this morning. 
You’d woken up early today keeping in mind the day you had planned. You decided this to be another move-in day as part of your studio setup project you’ve entertained for the last week. The granted time off due to your odd honeymoon farce with Taehyung proved to actually come in handy, thankfully. 
It had been another peaceful morning for you, having woken up with sunlight gracing the walls, certain you could hear birds chirping as if you were in a Disney film and little mice would come out to start sewing the gown you’d wear as a princess. 
It had been a peaceful morning indeed, but when you stretched out to loosen your stiff muscles, the chaos that met you was anything but peaceful. Even if it’s occurred at least 5 times now, you kept forgetting that you shared a bed with someone else now, and that said someone had somehow always founds a way to gravitate towards you during the night, even daringly cast an arm over you sometimes. 
It left you in a state of panic registering that Taehyung’s, dare you say warm and cozy body would be just behind you, his chest mere centimeters from your back. You would stay still for some time, calculating the optimal way to remove yourself from his hold until he eventually stirred enough to loosen his grip, darting right out of bed. 
Other times, he’d wake earlier than you and you wondered what would cross his mind once he registered your oddly proximal bodies. 
Did it ever bother him?
Nonetheless, it brought a mischievous smile to your face thinking about the fact that Taehyung had such a perfectly human habit like cuddling. He was always so serious, so put together and a near machine at everything he did, seeming as though he wouldn’t give anything romantic the time of day. 
But it was hard to forget the fluffy feeling that blossomed in your chest when you would sense his proximity, maybe inviting a liking to it. You had always slept alone, only yourself and the darkness to keep you company in your lonely bed, in your lonely home. 
So sleeping next to someone, namely Kim Taehyung left an impression on you you couldn’t quite shake. It was difficult to erase the image of his calm, sleeping face after the handful of times witnessing it. Long eyelashes delicately pressed to the skin under his eyes, lips plush as he seemed to naturally pout in his sleep. The sunlight only accentuated his honey-coloured skin, adding a glow to his features that made him appear prettier than he already was. 
It was nice to think you’d wake up to that every morning. 
You found your mind still playing around with the idea until you snapped yourself out of it, questioning why the hell you always ventured off whenever you thought about him. 
Weird. 
You were scolding yourself until your eyes caught Taehyung strolling into the kitchen with his phone in is hand. He’d foregone a jacket today, black shirt sleeves folded to mid-forearm paired with black slacks.  
You were normal until you almost spat your coffee seeing he wasn’t wearing a tie but instead had the first few buttons of his shirt open, revealing a generous view of his neck and the beginnings of his chest. 
Fucking hell.
You were staring stupidly until Taehyung peeked up at you, smiling “Morning.” 
“M-morning.” you stuttered.
He seemed unsuspecting as he returned his attention to his phone, proceeding to the kitchen counter and retrieving a cup to fix himself a drink. He appeared to be reading something conscientiously on his device, never taking his eyes off and you quickly became bored, ready to use the weapon you’d acquired. 
“So.. you’re a cuddler, huh?”
Taehyung nearly dropped his cup.  
“I’m sorry, what?” 
“You’re a cuddler when you sleep. Cute.” You rested your chin in your palm, playful smile on your face. 
“I think you’re mistaken, I am not a cuddler. And I’m not cute.” Taehyung denied as he only focused on the cup, his back to you. You then watched him reach for his selection of tea and purposefully evade the coffee, your eyes lighting up with mischief.  
“Wait, you’re a cuddler and you drink tea instead of coffee? Very cute.” You pulled on his leg, chuckling as you brought your mug to your lips
This was going to be fun.
“Shut up, I don’t like the taste and tea is healthier.” Taehyung practically sneered back, harshly ripping the packet of his tea bag.
“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re a cuddler.” You sipped on your coffee, unbothered as you swung your legs back and fourth. 
“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you like it.” 
You nearly spat your drink. 
“What?” 
“I remember a certain someone that shuffles closer to me for warmth, no?” Taehyung snapped back as he returned to his phone and popped his tea into the microwave, his shoulders high to the sky. You could imagine his smug face proud of his remark while searching for your own, realizing that Taehyung was damn good at arguing and you’d really have to upgrade your comeback game to counter him. 
He was unfortunately your match.
“Even if I were one, which I’m not, It’s not like I’m committing a crime.” Taehyung suddenly finalized with a snippy tone, and you realized you may have hurt his ego. 
Men. 
“I never said it was a bad thing.” You commented under your breath and looked away, popping a raspberry into your mouth. 
Taehyung bit back a smirk as he retrieved his cup of tea, taking a sip as he returned to his phone and took a seat across from you. He began compiling his plate of breakfast as he worked his device, typing away with one hand as if he was drafting the Magna Carta. 
You became bored again.
“Why do you have so much coffee if you don’t like it?” You genuinely felt like inquiring, if he didn’t like the taste why would he have so much? 
“For my housekeepers, they drink it.” He took a sip of his tea, all attention on his phone. 
You nodded understandingly. “Why do you have two housekeepers, by the way? Isn’t one enough?” 
“So they can keep each other company.” He answered absentmindedly, eyes still glued to his phone as he bit a piece of his toast. You really hated that he wasn’t actively interacting with you because it only left room to stare at him, and that was never any good.  
He looked illegally attractive with the unbuttoned part of his shirt, your mind profusely bugging out over the exposed bit of his chest. You were reminded of the full view from last night, and began pondering how long you’d survive having to see that for the rest of your life. 
“O-oh, that’s nice.” You stuttered back a reply, squashing your previous thought.
You were actually quite impressed by the kindness Taehyung showed behind that decision, noticing he had these small moments where he was caring, considerate, all hidden behind his unreadable face and seriousness when it came to business. 
It was quite interesting. 
You were mindlessly eating until Taehyung spoke up, eyes flickering towards you. “What are you going to do today?” 
You swallowed your fruit. “I was planning on moving more stuff in again, start finishing my studio setup. Thank you again for the room, by the way.” You expressed your gratitude once more, forking some eggs into your mouth. 
“Don’t mention it.” 
“What are you doing today?” you echoed his question, taking another swig of coffee.
“I’m working again. If you need anything I’ll be in my study.” Taehyung sent you a half-smile before snatching up his plate, bringing his phone to his ear as he stepped out of the kitchen. 
You sighed heavily only being left to think about your day, which would be majorly spent unpacking and arranging things. You had a plethora of art supplies, design tools and canvases to set up in your studio, leaving you constantly thinking of how to even begin. 
It would be a mission alone to sort through everything you had left, knowing you didn’t exactly label out of sheer laziness and would have to individually unbox and organize everything . 
It was this exact task that took up most of your day, time having slipped by in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t easy when you had to be rummaging through your belongings and situating them where you thought appropriate, also trying to envision a new look for your studio. 
You hadn’t realized 3 hours had passed until the ring of the front doorbell caused you to check your phone, curious as to who would be visiting your home in the middle of the day. You assumed it be one of the housekeepers and abandoned your work, cascading down the staircase and striding towards the grand entrance. 
You drew towards the monitor Taehyung had showed you just yesterday, explaining it to be your home security system. Taehyung detailed it had a camera for your front porch that detected movement and the doorbell alike, so you peered at the monitor to see the stranger outside your home. 
Your eyebrows furrowed registering a woman, her back turned towards the door as she fidgeted nervously with her purse in her hand. 
Sheer curiosity took you over and you paddled towards the door, unlocking it. You wore a smile on your face as you swung the door open, though it was immediately wiped off taking in the last person on earth you ever wanted to see. 
“Mother?”
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astromaki · 3 years
Text
part 3 of second choice ; ceo!shoto todoroki x gn!reader (x ceo!katsuki bakugo) (1617 words)
part 1. part 2. (previous) part 4.
tw ; angst, arranged marriage, toxic relationship, degradation, divorce, mention of alcohol, bad language, slightly suggestive ?
EXTRA INFOS ;; all the characters are aged up obviously (they are 30 here), the point of view of this third part is from shoto todoroki !
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confrontation. [7 : 16 pm]
a week has passed since he came home that night drunk. that he had begged momo to stay with him. that he had accidentally seen those divorce papers crumpled by your hands.
momo had seen them too that night, and yet she and shoto had not commented on them. good, he wasn't in the mood anyway.
it had become almost official, even the media had it on their front pages. "one of japan's richest couples on the verge of divorce?", "billionaire todoroki single again?" "y/n, will the heir.ess of their father's company return to being a lawyer?"
he would have liked to say that he cared what you thought about it. if you cried, screamed, were you hurt ? but that would be lying, you were the least of his worries.
and then, wasn't it what he wanted from the beginning ?
that you would end up hating him so much that you would leave him. that he could finally be free of the weight that you represented every day.
and yet his signature was still missing.
"you can't even love your partner properly, and now i hear through the media that a divorce is on the way ? you're pathetic son. i knew i should have married them to touya. " enji's heart-attack voice echoed terribly through the phone, which made shoto sigh. he was even pretty sure he could hear it from across town.
"calm down." shoto said in an annoyed tone. "your marriage isn't a success either, so keep your remarks to yourself. bye. "
"you idiot, don't you dare hanging up on me. i don't care if you can't satisfy your s/o, i don't care if they feel bad about this arranged marriage either. but y/n y/l/n comes from a very famous lawyer's family, so get a divorce and the amount of money you have to give will be huge. "
"i manage them, it will not be a problem. i have to go now. "
the young man finally returned to your room, looking exhausted, his tie loosened and ready to down a few glasses of whiskey.
however, he was surprised to see you. dressed in a beautiful versace dress/suit, you were glowing. well no, he meant that you looked... good.
though, it was the first time he took the time to look at you. to admire you.
the young man finally met your indifferent gaze through the mirror you were standing in front of. that gaze that was so joyful and sparkling at the beginning of your marriage, full of hope to transform this purely financial union into a love marriage.
but that look, devoid of emotion, almost made shoto, Japan's most ambitious ceo, doubt himself. almost.
"i'm surprised you're still using my card to splurge. how much is this one? $1000 ? $2000 ?"
he was tired, exhausted. nut the truth is he was in the mood to be a pain in the ass tonight.
"$ 8,330. plus the $800 pair. " you replied coldly.
your answer was like a slap in the face to your husband. not because of the price, he didn't give a fuck about this.
but this tone right there. it wasn't like you. you were normally so gentle, patient even with the worst of the crap he put you through. that naive kindness that made him want to vomit was completely gone. he didn't expect such a turn of events.
"so you decide to divorce me, but first you want to empty my bank account? you're exactly as I imagined." his look that used to reflect nothing but fatigue was now full of contempt for you.
you finally faced him. shit, he couldn't help but find you beautiful.
"here todoroki, let's talk about the divorce. " you began, quietly walking over to the cabinet and pulling out a stack of documents. "i've signed it, sign it, and i'll take it to my lawyers first thing in the morning.
he snatched them out of your hand and threw them across the room. you didn't even flinch, you even held his gaze. poker face.
a loud silence fell between you. a long silence, uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. heavy and light. sensible and meaningless.
"what's all this about ? who put you up to this ?"
a wry laugh escaped your lips. your new behavior puzzled shoto. he loved and hated what he had in front of him. a challenge.
"you think i need someone to make me realize that i deserve better than an asshole like you ? fuck, let me laugh. "
your hand went to retrieve a piece of paper from your purse. and it was slammed hard against his chest. bakugou’s business card.
he found your face inches from his, your warm breath gently caressing his cheeks. a scent of whiskey filled his nostrils. you were not sober.
"how many drinks are you on? " he asked quietly.
"so now do you care if i downed a whole bottle or not ? oh please shut up. because now that you mention it, your friend bakugou katsuki may have hired me. to be his company's business lawyer. isn't that funny? "
you turned your back on him, unaware of the state you'd put him in. but damn, it was like he'd just been slapped in the face. nausea took over his whole body, his legs became heavy and weak in few seconds only. and he knew damn well it wasn't fatigue.
so you were leaving him, but on top of that you were going to work for his number one competitor ?
he didn't know what hurt more, the knowledge that bakugo had won one of the most competent lawyers in the field or that you were leaving him for him ? was he jealous ? surely not, it was another feeling that repulsed him. he didn't even know.
"have you lost your tongue todoroki ?"
todoroki ? since when did you call him by his last name ? where are the darlings or my heart that used to annoy him so much ?
you finish getting ready, now wearing your long jacket. he had lost his tongue indeed, he didn't know what to say to you. what to do.
y/n y/l/n, you had succeeded in putting your husband to the wall.
but it was only for a moment. he quickly, too quickly, pulled himself together. his usual irritated expression returned.
"you don't see that he's using you to get ahead of me ? i thought you were smarter than that. "
he took a step forward, slowly but surely. like a predator approaching its prey.
"he doesn't care about you. just like no one has ever cared about you, not me, not him and not your bourgeois family. that's why they put you in a loveless marriage so easily. "
a mirthless laugh escaped from his lips.
"y/n, this bastard doesn't give a damn about you. "
you tried to move towards him, ready to slap him, but the alcohol made you capsize and stumble on your carpet. he arrived just in time to support you with his muscular arms. an annoyed sigh resounded in the large room when your sob reached his ears.
nevertheless, a petty smile stretched his lips. there you were again, the fragile and unassertive y/n finally in his arms.
that bakugo had managed to turn your brain inside out. yet shoto knew you better than anyone else. he knew you. better than you knew yourself. you were that puzzle he had managed to decipher long ago.
"that's not true. kacchan wouldn't do that...", you whisper.
"you know i'm right, sweetheart. you know i'm the only one who's honest with you. my love for you is all you need. "
his muscular hand gradually, peacefully, came to caress your back to take off the buttons of your dress. his lips came to meet yours, to draw you into a long, languid, unsentimental kiss. your lips asked for more, your whole soul asked for more of shoto. more of this man for whom your heart never stopped beating. even if his was vibrating for another woman.
you wanted to feel his lips making love to you sensually, sincerely.
you just wanted him to love you for one night. one fucking night.
shoto was ecstatic. he could already see himself opening a bottle of champagne with his father, to celebrate the divorce that would never happen. tonight, shoto had brought out his best acting skills. millions were at stake. he had brought out his best kiss. he had never touched you like that. so gently, so carefully.
he had never called you by any affectionate nickname.
he has done too much to keep you around.
and you were drunk, not stupid.
you finally stood up, moving away from him, reluctantly. nothing he said was true. from his love for you, to his accusations against katsuki.
awkwardly, you put your dress/suit back on properly.
"i have a meeting with my future employer mr. bakugou tonight. i'll be late. don't wait for me, i'll sleep at the hotel tonight, with your card. "
a red color came to his cheeks. anger ? sadness ? jealousy ?
he had never seen you so determined, so proud. and that attracted him. he was going to lose millions, no matter what. but it was you who was going to escape him. for that bastard bakugou katsuki.
the nice little y/n was no longer shoto todoroki's.
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AHHH omg sorry sorry i told you i can't do a fluffy end!! >< (comments and reblogs are appreciated <3)
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milkiane · 3 years
Text
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matters the most
pairings: rafe cameron x reader
warnings: profanities, mentions of alcoholic beverages, sexual comments
word count: 1996
request: give me rafe angst with prompt "god, i can't even look at you"
a/n: all the love to @s1ater as always, and thank you to @iwritesiriusly for being the best <3
love is such a concept that most people would often dream of, wanting the full experience of having butterflies in your stomach, fireworks erupting with every kiss, the messy and complicated rollercoaster ride. everything about love just sounds so beautiful.
love brings two people, from strangers, or enemies, or life-long friends, together and creates sheer happiness and adoration for each other, but love is never always about all that cliché domesticity. sometimes it’s all about the thrill and the danger that it brings along.
it was funny, really. how rafe, who wasn’t afraid to express his hatred for pogues, fell for one. love did work in mysterious ways, they said.
neither of you knew how you lasted for 8 months without getting caught, but both of you knew that the fun wouldn’t last for long before something would come in between.
he didn’t know that his dad and rose would be home earlier than they said. he thought he’d have the house to himself, that’s why he invited you to come. amidst a steamy make-out sesh did they walk in, followed by an argument between the two men. you awkwardly stood behind rafe, lips swollen and cheeks red as rose glared at you.
it didn’t end well, but when does it ever? forbidden love had its perks, but it also had its downfalls. ward demanded to break off whatever liaison his son had with you, whilst still raving about his disdain for the likes of you and how rafe turned out to be just like his disappointment of a sister. rafe decided that he’s had enough and stormed off with you.
that’s why rafe was in the cut at the dead of the night, standing in front of the chateau.
he shook his head, bringing out his phone to give you a call as he brought the large blanket closer to his chest.
incoming call: rafey <3
groaning, you reached out your hand and blindly patted around your bed for your ringing phone. the brightness of your phone glaring at you to the degree, making you hiss.
“rafe? it’s 2 in the morning, why the-” you grumbled, eyes fluttering close as sleep started to glaze over.
“come outside, babe. i’m on your front porch,” he said, taking in the sight of it before silently muttering, “if you could even call it a porch.”
“shut up, rafe,” you groaned, ending the call as you threw your blankets to the side and leaving your warm sanctuary to see your boyfriend. quietly making your way past john b’s room and jj, who was sleeping on the couch.
“what are you doing here?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his torso as he placed a kiss on your temple.
“wanted to come see you, we don’t know to what extent my dad’ll go to make us break up, so let’s make the most of our time,” he shrugged, reaching out for your hand, he intertwined your fingers together and dragged you towards an open space.
rafe unfolded the blanket and spread it out, laying down on it as he opened his arms to invite you in.
snuggling into his embrace, you smiled softly, “you know, i’m usually the one who sneaks out to see you,”
he chuckled, his chest vibrating as he did, “yeah, but we gotta have some change now, i guess,”
you sighed, nuzzling deeper into his arms, “imagine if the clash between the kooks and pogues never existed, if the odds were in our favor, we would have lived happily,”
“we’ll get married,” rafe started, then tilted his head to look down at you, “a beach wedding, d’you want a beach wedding?”
“yeah,” you grinned, playing with the rings on his fingers, “then we’ll have two kids and a dog, and a house in between figure 8 and the cut,”
silence surrounded the both of you, sad smiles on your faces as you looked up at the twinkling stars. the chirping of cicadas and the rustling of the trees serving as a piece of calming music.
after a while, rafe began to speak up again, “are you… are you sure that this is worth all the secrecy, y/n?”
you furrowed your eyebrows, removing yourself from his hold to you look at him, “what?”
he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “i just- we knew it would end one way or another, right?”
you paused, trying to let his words sink in before asking him, “what’re you trying to say, rafe?”
by now, he was already sitting up, “i’m just saying that we just got lucky that we lasted for nearly a year. i mean, it’s far-fetched, you’re a pogue, and i’m a kook. it would have been easier if you were like me,”
you scoffed pathetically, “oh, so it’s my fault now that i was born a pogue? well, i’m sorry that i couldn’t control how life works, that i have to work my ass off 24/7 to keep myself surviving,”
“you know that’s not what i meant, baby, it’s just that-“ rafe groaned, he didn’t know what else to say because that’s exactly what he meant.
“then what is it, rafe? you don’t know how hard it is to work multiple jobs just to keep yourself afloat, it’s unfair how we didn’t choose to live like this, yet you kooks torment us for trying to have food to serve on our tables,” you fumed, “so i’m sorry that we don’t have golden spoons sticking out of our mouths or that our daddies don’t give us whatever the hell we want,”
“i can’t believe you doubted us for even a second,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes to keep your tears from falling, “do you think this was all easy for me, rafe? because no, it wasn’t, but i still loved you with all that i am, with all that i have, because i knew that we’ll get through this.”
“y/n-”
“god, i can’t even look at you right now,” you stood up, grabbing your phone as you made your way back to the chateau, tears gathering in your eyes.
“y/n, wait, c’mon-”
rafe grabbed your arm, but you immediately removed it from his grasp as you whipped around, “you know, i may not have a lot to offer, but i knew that i made you happy and i loved you an awful lot, so i’m sorry if that wasn’t enough.”
you let the tears fall this time, looking at him one more time before going in and slamming the door shut, making jj jump up in surprise, “y/n?”
rafe stood there for a moment, trying to shake away the broken look on your face from his mind. he sauntered after you, knocking aggressively at the front door, “y/n, c’mon, i’m sorry, baby.”
john b rushed out of his room, jumbled and confused as he held the bat up, “wha-?”
you shoved him away and hurried back to your room. the two boys exchanged looks before opening the door. to say that they were shocked to see a disheveled rafe cameron on their doorstep was an understatement, “what the fuck are you doing in here, cameron?”
he ignored them and tried to push past them, “get outta the way, pogues,”
but they weren’t having it, they pushed him back with a glare. he scoffed, looking back once more before slowly backing off, grabbing the blanket before speeding away on his motorbike.
you wouldn’t choose to be here if you had a choice, but alas, if it means working at the midsummers and earning a decent salary with free champagne to drown your sorrows in, then you might just have to.
so, clad in a waitress’s apparel, too tight for your liking, and a tray of glasses of champagne in hand, you maneuvered your way towards the old uppity haughty kooks.
at a respectable distance, rafe was looking at you with a sad look on his face, wanting nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and tell you how sorry he is and how he loves you so much.
it was when topper’s voice snapped him out of his trance, “have you seen l/n’s ass in that uniform? i would’ve done her right then and there if she wasn’t a pogue,”
the sounds of his friends’ laughters fumed him, but instead of saying anything, he shot up out of his seat and approached you.
you momentarily glanced at him and swallowed, “champagne?”
he grabbed the glass that you shoved at his chest, fingers grazing over another, “y/n, please, i just want to talk,”
“i’m not here for you, cameron,” you caught a glimpse of his friends slowly approaching the both of you, sniggering from behind him, “i’m here to earn some money, so if you’ll excuse me,”
but before you could even make your way around them, topper and kelce harshly knocked on your shoulders, the tray of glasses breaking into pieces as it fell.
“watch it, pogue,”
gasps were heard across the room, as you staggered back from the force. you heard pope and jj run towards you, john b and kiara excusing themselves from the guests to follow.
you let out a shaky breath, crouching down to pick up the pieces as ward slowly walked over to scold you.
as they continued to laugh, they risked a glance to see a livid rafe glaring at them instead of laughing along with them, and with that, their laughter died down, a look of confusion replacing their amusement.
rafe looked around, catching the eye of his father who stopped in his tracks, a glint in his eye as if he was daring him to go help you, to ruin their family’s reputation.
without a single doubt, he took the broken shards from your hold and raised you up by your arms, earning another round of gasps from the crowd.
he looked at you, silently asking for permission. when a small smile tugged your lips, he leaned in slowly, closing in the proximity of your lips. your arms wrapped around his neck as his own wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.
as you heard his father’s footsteps, rafe pulled away and grabbed your arm, sprinting into a run.
“rafe!”
the both of you burst into laughter as you dashed through the crowd, hands still intertwined as you looked for a quiet spot.
you stopped at their backyard, fairy lights hung from tree to tree, and the music from the platform softly echoing. trying to catch a breath, you let your head fall on his chest. rafe’s hand ran through your hair, “i’m sorry, y/n,”
“rafe-”
“no, no. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean what i said, okay? i love you too much,” he cupped your face in his hands, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheeks, “i’ll gladly give up the life i have right now if it means spending it with you. none of this luxury would compare to you, no amount of money would make me happy as you do.”
you pulled him into another kiss, running a hand through his hair. it was slow, sensual, something different from the type of intimacy you often did, as though if you rushed things, you’d open your eyes to see that everything was just a dream. rafe brought you closer than possible, a hand resting the other on the small of your back and on your hip, rubbing slow circles on the exposed skin.
pulling away slowly, you whispered a hoarse, “i love you, rafe cameron,”
he smiled softly, swaying slowly to the distant music. an aura of love and sovereignty enveloping the both of you in a bubble of your own. none of you cared about the rivalry anymore, or his father, or what other people would say. let them talk.
it wouldn’t bother you, because you had each other, and that’s what matters the most.
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dollslayer · 3 years
Text
Fight or Flight
Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Steve comes clean, in the aftermath and shock you turn to the one person who you know you can trust.
W/C: 2,369
Warnings: Implied cheating, angst, swearing
A/N: Hello! I wrote this for @sweetlyscared 's 1k celebration (congrats, it's well deserved!), prompt is in bold. I'm still pretty new to writing and this is my first true Angst fic so any and all reblogs/comments are super appreciated! Please check out my other stuff if you liked this fic!! Cheers!
PART TWO I Masterlist
____
The feeling of everything crashing around you was slow. Like your world was moving in slow motion as you processed the words. Everything else he was saying became distorted, going to waste as he tried desperately to explain himself to you. All you could hear clearly was your own breathing while you tried to will yourself to do something, anything.
Fight or flight is a funny thing, you were always so feisty and eager to fight back, A Bulldog, Steve had affectionately called you. But when he told you he was in love with someone else, that he has been in love with someone else for months, your body couldn’t find anything in it but to walk away.
Your breathing picked up and your eyes searched the ground, refusing to meet his. You felt your legs raise you up to stand and start walking away, unsure of your destination. When you pivoted to leave the room your eyes met his briefly, staring emotionlessly as his desperately searched for anything at all in yours.
“Where are you going? Doll, please, can we talk about this? I’m, I’m so sorry I-”
Whatever else he was saying wasn’t heard over the noise of opening the door and shutting it behind you. You didn’t know where you were going or what you were feeling other than the obvious. You were in a state of shock, it’s one thing to hear awful news and another to understand that it’s true but you were fastly approaching that truth head-on.
You paused for a moment in the hall and heard no movement come after you. You almost let yourself be surprised but he’d admitted he gave up on you a long time ago, so it only makes sense he wouldn’t fight your exit. You kept walking and tried to hold the floodgates of your heart closed for a bit longer.
Flashes of what was said come back to you slowly as reality sets in. “I can’t put this off any longer. I want you to know that I will always love you, but there’s someone else.”
Your head hurt like it would as if you were already crying, the blood pumping in your ears and pressure building in your temples that would no doubt evoke a long-standing headache. Your face felt hot as you stepped into the elevator, maybe you’d go for a walk in an attempt to fend off your tears. Or maybe you’d walk to a safer place to have an emotional breakdown. Whichever is easier.
Brisk gusts of air greet you as you exit the building, making you realize you left your jacket on the arm of the couch. You took a second to evaluate yourself and noticed you’d also walked out in your house slippers and a thin pair of leggings. Trying to evade the cold you tucked yourself in the doorway of a bodega down the street and dialed Bucky.
Two rings and he picked up.
“Hello?”
“Did you know?”
The silence on the line only reminds you of the blood pumping in your ears. The silence tells you everything you needed to know.
“Liste-”
You hang up.
You’re breathing even harder now. Who else knew? For how long? How long was I the joke? You need to find somewhere else to be soon or all these strangers are going to get an eyeful of a grown woman sobbing. You dial the last number you’d expect to at a time like this.
“What’s happening, shortstack?”
You can hear Tony’s grin through the phone and his easy greeting gives you momentary comfort.
“Can I come over? Something happened.”
“I’ll let Jarvis know to let you in” Tony’s tone is understanding, not needing you to explain further, just letting you know you can come to him.
____
Tony’s only seven blocks from yours and Steve’s shared apartment, a fact you’re grateful for when you feel your feet aching every time they hit the pavement. The conversation replays in your head, you try to word what happened in your head and your anger starts overtaking the heartbreak. It’s almost a welcome reprieve from the settling heartbreak but you’re not sure if you’d rather be numb to it completely.
When the elevator doors open Tony’s waiting for you with two tumblers of scotch in hand. You shake your head and move past him to the couch. He joins you on the opposite armchair and sets both his elbows down on his spread knees, resting his face in his hands.
“Would you like to talk about it or not talk about it?” He asks with a sigh.
You don’t make eye contact with him so you don’t cry, choosing to focus on the Iron Man coffee table book you’d gotten as a gag gift for Tony all those Christmases ago. It almost distracts you enough to laugh, the fact that he just has it out. But you need to tell someone what happened and get it all out before you can let yourself feel it all.
“Steveisinlovewithsomeoneelse,” You rushed it all out in one breath afraid if you didn’t get it out fast enough that you’d break. “He has been for months. He said he doesn’t know when it all changed but when he was with her things just clicked,” you paused to collect yourself, “But don’t worry, I’ll always hold a special place in his heart and he hopes this won’t affect the future of the team or our friendship.”
“Oh, and he’s really sorry.” you added.
You laughed bitterly and shook your head in disbelief. His delivery had been so cold but so sincere, very to the point but pained in its delivery. “I just, whatever we had, it’s just gone. Things are just different now, with her, this kills me though, please believe me. You’re still really special to me.” Bullshit. Special enough to act as a placeholder until someone better comes, special enough to cast aside.
You’re broken momentarily from your spiral into anger by the sound of a glass hitting a coaster a little too hard. Looking up, you find Tony quietly seething. He and Steve aren’t close by any means so you figured that he wouldn’t have known, it’s why you called him over anyone else.
He moves slowly to your side on the couch and pulls you into his side. You can smell his aftershave and what you think might be burned grease from one of the many things he’s been tinkering with in the lab, it smells like him, like comfort.
“That fucking asshole. Unbelievable, I don’t even…” He leaves the thought unfinished.
His hands move up and down your arms in a soothing motion and you finally let yourself have it. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel the tears wet his shirt when you bury your face in. You sniffle up tears and snot when your face heats up.
There’s no way to know how long Tony lets you sob into him, no doubt ruining his vintage Depeche Mode shirt. Somewhere in the back of your mind you make a mental note to buy him a new one later. But for now you’ll just allow yourself to cry and you can deal with the world in the morning.
____
Tony lets you fall asleep on his chest, feeling somewhere between furious and heartbroken by proxy. He thinks about letting you sleep and giving Steve a piece of his mind but figures that’s not what you need right now. Your phone sits on the table and he touches the screen to check the time. No notifications on your homescreen except for a missed call from Bucky and an old photo of Steve making a funny face as your background.
Had Steve not even tried to call you? Had he not even tried to go after you? Why was Bucky of all people the only one to be trying to get a hold of you? Prick.
Selfishly Tony is glad that he has a good reason to be rude to Steve now, he has to admit. You two had always been close but when you and Steve started dating he saw less and less of you. He couldn’t fault you for it though, you were so in love with Steve and you knew that the relationship between the two of them was strained so you kept your distance a bit.
He thought of all the sacrifices you’d made for Steve. You gave up your childhood home in the Bronx that your parents had willed to you to move in with him because he wanted you to be closer to the tower. You gave up a promotion and transfer to DC when you were still just an agent, granted you were an avenger now but it doesn’t matter, he’d made a very big deal out of you turning it down. You gave up the friendship the two of you had.
It was incredible, really. How much you had done for him only for him to turn around and love someone else behind your back. Brave enough to fight aliens and terrorists but too cowardly to break up with you and leave you with some dignity. Did anyone else know about this?
Tony had to stop himself from getting too angry, afraid he’d wake you up. So instead he went back to plotting up schematics for the half-finished suit mod he’d been in the middle of when you called.
____
It’s been a week and you still haven’t properly talked to Steve. After two days on Tony’s couch you need to look at things from a logical stance. Where am I going to stay? It’s not like you had your parent’s place anymore and you didn’t want to sign a new lease on an apartment. You could always move into the tower but that meant a higher chance of running into Steve.
You were thinking about all of this out loud to Tony when he offered you the guest bedroom in his penthouse. You were shocked, he’s always been a generous man but after you drifted apart from him you were surprised he even let you stay these past few days. Maybe now was a good time to rebuild your friendship with him and have some space from work.
What’s work going to be like? You agree and go on a temporary leave from the team, just a month to collect yourself. If you really wanted to you could go back but the thought of seeing everyone that knew about Steve’s affair was humiliating and enraging in one go.
It turns out Sam had been playing therapist to Steve in all of this, Nat figured it out through some sleuthing, and Wanda had inadvertently heard his thoughts about her. And none of them thought to tell you? To save you from the anguish but to let it fester? Steve wasn’t the only one that betrayed you. They all had.
What will I say to him? Should I say anything to him? Turns out the answer was ‘nothing’. You texted him to let him know you were moving out and you’d be by to get your things as a courtesy. You walked into an empty apartment and you were almost relieved.
He’d chosen to not be here but he’d left you a letter on the kitchen counter next to a framed photo of the two of you on vacation last year. You scoff but don’t touch the letter. Every ounce of restraint you have is being used as you leave it untouched. But you don’t need to know what excuses or apologies he has on deck, nothing he could say would exonerate him of his wrong-doings. You had no intentions of speaking to him but secretly you hoped he suffered as he stewed in his guilt and inner-turmoil. He deserves to.
When you pack you leave every gift he ever gave you, taking only what you’d brought with you in the first place. You take one look at the unmade bed and almost go to make it out of habit but then you think of the two of them there together. All the long missions you went on without him, all the times you stayed late at work or went out with your friends. How many times had he been here with her while you were there?
You end up only leaving with two suitcases and a backpack full of things. Tony waits for you in the lobby, understanding you wanted your space when you went to get your things in case Steve was there.
The elevator doors open to him taking a selfie with a couple of fans and shaking hands. He’s all too happy to be recognized but when he sees you his eyes soften. Not out of pity, but fondness, like he’s proud of you for getting out.
He sends you a questioning look with a silent question. Are you okay?
You smile at him and for the first time in days it’s a genuine, non-placating, happy-to-see-you smile. It’s okay, I’ll be okay.
He takes one of your suitcases from you and helps you load them into the back of the car before opening the door for you. The drive back to Tony’s is silent but comfortable. The trust you have in each other is strong and unspoken. Something you’ve always been grateful for between the two of you.
He doesn’t ask you about Steve or what happened, always letting you come to him first, which you appreciate. And when you talk he just listens. No bullshit unsolicited advice about moving on or how everything happens for a reason or getting back out there, just listens.
You know the road ahead is long and it will be difficult, but you have someone in your corner and the knowledge that what happened isn’t your fault and that you’re a badass and fuck Steve Rogers and fuck anyone else that did you wrong in all of this. Maybe you’ll forgive them someday but for now you’re gonna focus on you and work on building yourself back up. You’re ready for the ups and downs, you’re ready to fight.
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wh6res · 3 years
Text
one more time | markhyuck
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"if i'm going to teach you how to fuck her right, you’re gonna need the best seat in the house, markie!" — lhc 
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warnings. dubious content, swearing, bondage, voyeurism, masturbation, exhibitionism, mentions of stalking, fingering, oral (f receiving), degradation, there’s a knife (but no knifeplay), a threesome, implied kidnapping 
disclaimer. i dont condone anything. this isnt a normal relationship. this aint love.
note. prolly going to hell for this but who cares. markhyuck for @nakamotocore​ i wuv ya ie please get better soon! TT and dom hyuck for my napaka kalat na mami @donghyukcore​
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against all rational thinking, haechan is getting bored from seeing the pathetic five feet distance between you and mark when he comes home. he tries to understand the other male in the relationship. truly, he does, even if he highly doubts that celibate little mark lee can pleasure you the way he can but everything's practically past that line now. donghyuck just wants to have some fun with you two, is that too much to ask for? at this point, he's blatantly ignoring the fact that you and mark don't even like each other.
but haechan cares for mark just as much as he cares about you and he won't just let his best friend miss out on all the fun things he can do to their little doll, right? what kind of a friend would he be? once haechan shoves him into a world of temptation and sin and pleasure, mark would kiss his self-induced celibacy goodbye.
plus, you've been awfully naughty these days.
talks about wanting to come home or getting at least a few rights to have gadgets were the only thing you said whenever you see him. it went as far as practically growling and running away from haechan when he tries to initiate something with you, screeching your lungs out and saying, "don't fucking touch me, you creepy little psycho!"
deflowering mark.
punishing you.
he'd be killing two birds with one stone.
he's fucked your stubborn little self into submission once, but all that overprivileged tv sessions might've put silly little ideas into your dumb little head again. alas, no worries, he'll just have to do it one more time. and maybe, now with the aid of his good 'ol buddy mark, they'll both be able to screw you up so good you'll never want to leave their clutches.
"gumdrop, can you come here for a second?"
haechan isn't deaf to the exaggerated groan you let out from the living room and it grates on his nerves how utterly brave you are for being passive aggressive. you reminded him of a little girl in a temper tantrum because they weren't given any candy - and when you show up in the master bedroom clad in your little pink dress, eyes upturned and sharp, a pathetic little girl was all he can think of when he saw you.
only now did he notice that you had even detangled your hair from the intricate braids haechan spent at least twenty minutes doing earlier this morning. where was mark all this time? why wasn’t he there to stop you? geez, you both are so going to get it, this time!
"what do you want?"
"can you give me a hug? i felt awfully stressed at work today. i need my little gumdrop."
this was obviously a test. don't get him wrong, he'll still punish you but if just this one time you learned to swallow that bitchy attitude and come crawling to him as the perfect lover should, maybe he won't be too harsh.
but he gave you too much credit, he thinks. of course his dumb cockwhore doesn't know shit. of fucking course, you wouldn't know it was a test. not when you scoffed, rolled your eyes at him, and spun in your heels to walk back to the living room.
"beat your meat with your own hands, creep."
haechan's reaction is immediate, his long legs allowing no delay in crossing the room to mercilessly fist your hair. he had pulled your hair so bad you thought it was going to rip right at the roots, all of his pent up anger due to your poor behavior channeling into that one grip.
you feel his scoff of disbelief against the curve of your neck as haechan pulls you flush against his body. "what the fuck did you just say to me?" he laughs patronizingly. "beat my meat with my own hands – aw, baby! that has got to be the best one yet!"
it truly was, though. he's not going to lie. out of every vicious snarl and hate-induced words you said to him, that particular offhand comment takes the cake. seriously, sometimes haechan thinks you're deliberately trying to make him furious – gumdrop, if you wanted to be fucked silly, all you had to do was ask.
he hurls you to the mattress, breath knocking right out of your lungs. before you can even sit back up and crawl away from haechan, he's already crawling over your body to sit directly on your stomach, fiddling with something on the headboard. you nearly scream in frustration, no matter what you do, you just can't throw him off of you!
"i don't know why the fuck you're behaving this way but it's gone too far. one more time. do i need to fuck some respect into you, one more time?”
a new wave of motivation surges through you when you hear the familiar click clacking of metal. your eyes widened just a fraction, the only thing that gave away the unease quickly seeping under your skin. if not for haechan's perceptive eyes, he would have missed it.
he merely used one hand to grip both your wrists in a vice. "no!" you squirmed, tossing and turning and trying with all your might to get him off of you. "no! i don't want that – not the cuffs!"
he loops the respective bands around your wrists with practiced ease. the last handcuffs he used had torn and marked your skin, something haechan wasn't fond of. only he can paint your bare skin with colors.
thus, he bought newer ones. the bands were a bright shade of red, connected to each other using a medium sized chain that loops around one of the steel wires of the bed, and the little bells attached to the bands ring with your every movement.
haechan knows the bells drove you crazy. its incessant ringing driving you up the wall as you couldn't keep your hands still whenever he fucked you to oblivion – he knew how much you loathed the sound of the bells, all the more reason for him to enjoy.
and mark, too. speaking of which…
you stubbornly pull at your bounded hands, glaring at the man before you as he studies your state. the corners of his lips curl up at the sight of you struggling. "you always look so good in red, gumdrop."
before you were given a chance to reply, he stormed out of the room with a sense of purpose bounding his steps. "lee donghyuck!" you screamed. "fucking come back and get me out of these, you pervert!"
he can hear you thrashing in your chains and yelling profanities from a room away. where was the demure girl he turned you into after only a week living in the apartment? though funny enough, the blood in haechan's sadistic side rushes in excitement at the prospect of wiping that glare off your face. it wasn't the fear, nor your submission that gets him off. it was the idea that he can and he will break you down no matter how many times you try to build yourself back up again.
he's not too sure whether he's going to eliminate that dirty mouth you've developed, though. because you did make him snort in the most unattractive way when you told him he can fucking jack himself off when he had been merely asking for a hug. this aggressive side you developed is… nice. he can work with it.
"can you ask your play thing to keep it down?" mark hisses, flinching and making an offkey sound with his guitar when a certain screech from you caught him off-guard.
haechan smiles.
"why don't you shut her up?"
it took a good few minutes trying to talk mark into stepping into the bedroom where he's got you chained to the headboard, but alas, haechan can be persuasive if he wants to be.
frankly, the younger man is sick and tired of hearing both of you bicker – it's no wonder you've developed a sharp tongue! it's all mark's fault and yet it's haechan that has to do the dirty work of setting you straight all over again. you're a tough cookie to crack, someone hauntingly immune to the violence and chaos.
and yet…
"you don't – don't seriously plan on doing this, do you?" your eyes go back and forth between the two males, primarily addressing the younger, devil-spawned male. haechan, ever observant, picks up the light tremor in your voice.
haechan had uttered a playful "if i'm going to teach you how to fuck her right, you're gonna need the best seat in the house, markie!" before forcing the older boy to sit by your side, mark's thighs grazing the temples of your head as your eyes awkwardly flutter up to the spectator.
mark couldn't deny he was intrigued by the emotion reflecting in your orbs. when your eyes met, it was a silent plea, he just knew it was. and unlike vulnerable and helpless you, mark, to some extent, still had at least some sense of freedom to him. he can choose to walk away, to stop haechan from trying to get him laid, maybe even talk the other boy into postponing your punishment.
but he'll do no such thing.
not because he has a moral compass (he doesn't, really) but because mark knew firsthand, there's no stopping haechan once he sets his mind into something – and right now, if that boy wants to punish you and use mark to fulfil his exhibitionistic fantasies then that's what'll happen.
your bottoms were the first to go, haechan's blunt nails digging into your skin as he pulled it down slowly, patronizingly, while watching bemused at your squirming. "this is how you know she needs a reminder," he says, addressing mark. "a good princess should take whatever's given to her like a good girl but if she's being an ungrateful brat –"
you flinch when he harshly smacks your thigh.
"– she gets what’s coming for her, right?"
there's a second's delay with mark's reply. haechan didn't mean for the question to be rhetorical, he wanted an answer from the other boy.
"right, mark?"
"r – right…"
haechan laughs, flipping the skirt of your dress up. "what, are you that excited for pussy that you're stuttering? that's cute."
you hear mark intake a sharp breath when haechan dives in to give you feathery kisses in your inner thigh. he always starts off this way, after figuring out this gets you wet way faster than simply kissing you.
as haechan starts talking, lips lazily grazing over your skin, you fight hard not to utter a single sound as you pull on your chains. "listen carefully, markie. do you hear those whimpers? she likes it," you feel the prickles of his sharp stare. "she's just too much of a fucking brat to admit it. go on gumdrop, your fighting spirit makes this all the more interesting."
you hate the patronizing tone he used as his hands trail higher, and higher until it's pinching at the bud of your clit. and against your whole being trying to keep your lips sealed, alas, it parts and creates a soft whimper that has mark stiffening next to you.
haechan lays his tongue flat against your folds. you weren't in the least bit wet yet to accommodate his size, but that's easy. he merely circles the bud with the tip of his tongue before pushing two fingers in. months of standing in the shadows outside your window had made him memorize the movement of your fingers whenever you pleasured yourself.
he felt the jolts of the bed as you shook your head side to side, trying with everything you can to hold your moans in. a corner of his lips can’t help but curl up. "what, gumdrop? too shy to lose yourself because we have an audience? don't worry our celibate little friend over here seems to like it. go on, give him a show."
too lost in the ministrations of his lips and fingers, you don't see haechan meeting eyes with mark, nodding at an object lying on the bed side table. you can only shudder when the cool tip of a knife presses against the base of your throat, hooking under the collar of your dress as mark slowly rips it off.
but haechan doesn't have the patience. "dude, give that to me. at your phase you'll get her naked tomorrow. let the tip cut her skin, the bitch deserves it anyway."
you scream when he drags it unceremoniously down your front, narrowly missed tearing at your navel. there are a few pricks of pain here and there for when the knife accidentally nicked your skin. he sure was ruthless as can be. why did you even bother acting like a brat, cursed him out, when it gave you no benefits whatsoever? did he unknowingly transform you into this sick little masochist that thrived on his sadism?
"no."
it was a defeated whisper. the last of your resolve turning into dust as the breath escapes your lungs. why did losing feel so heavy in your chest? you don't notice your arms slumping, nor your head nodding off to one side, the weight of your horrible reality sinking into you once again as if you had only been kidnapped yesterday.
but it had not been yesterday. it's been days. weeks. months. and the last time you sneakily got ahold of mark's phone and searched for your name, the last news clip or article published about your disappearance had been three months ago. that only meant one thing.
they weren't looking for you anymore.
just like that the world continued, other people's lives continued. all the while you're stuck here, rotting in the arms of your captors.
haechan's face emerged in front of you. he smiles and you would've believed he felt an ounce of guilt if not for that wicked stare in his eyes. "you've always been most beautiful like this, gumdrop. the hope disappearing in your eyes upon the realization that no one's coming for you anymore – i love it. i love you, my pretty girl."
he placed a chaste kiss on your forehead but he might as well have shot you straight in the heart.
there was no warning, nothing to ready you for the sudden intrusion happening on your bottom half and it was so bad, that it made you shut your eyes, hands wrapping around the chains as tears started falling across your cheeks.
rough fingers reached out and wiped them away.
something felt off.
the fingers were too calloused, opposed to the softness of haechan's nimble fingers. and while the aforementioned male had more length than girth, the person who's thrusting himself inside you is the complete opposite. he's stretching you out too much, not even bothering to give you time to adjust when he's already bucking his hips like an animal.
"shh, it's okay. i'll take care of you…"
this wasn't haechan.
and when you fluttered your eyes open to see mark's boyish little face, you can't help that look of betrayal painting your features. at least you only had to deal with one obsessive, sex-deprived freak. now, you're not so sure if you can handle both of them.
how foolish of you to think that mark's self-induced celibacy stretched far and wide when in reality, he was also just a boy with his own needs. a slave to his own temptations.
how cruel. so, so cruel.
in the back of your mind, you were thankful haechan cared enough to properly get you in the mood or else you would've been staining the bed sheets red by how deep and frantic mark’s thrusts were. it felt like he wanted to tear you in half.
"if i didn't know better i'd say you're experienced, markie! i wouldn't fucking know you're a virgin by how much you're humping her like a dog.”
curse him and his dirty mouth. his constant degradation is making it easier for mark to slide in and out of you, and a proof for that is the lewd slick sounds echoing in the room partnered with the older male's deep grunts – a complete opposite of the pitched, whiny sounds haechan makes.
'gumdrop, come on! be noisy with our first-timer here just how you're always noisy with me, yeah? don't be such a killjoy." the pout in his voice is evident, coming from the side of your ear.
you wish you had never turned your head, otherwise you wouldn't have to see him pumping his own dick in his hands right in front of you. the glare you shot probably looked pathetic, what with all the tears streaming down your face and your little theory proves true when you see his mouth quirk up to the side.
"i fucking hate you."
"mark, fuck her harder, wouldja? until she learns her fucking lesson."
the disturbed stare you gave him does not slip his notice, his hand's pace turning erratic, spurred by the slick sound of your walls, skin clapping, and mark's broken whines.
make him stop, your eyes said. please.
but haechan only shoots you an innocent smile before shaking his head. "didn't you tell me to beat my meat with my own hands?"
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maizumis · 3 years
Text
LOVE IS NOT FOR EVERYONE - suna x fem!reader smau
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part 5: the date
summary: after years of not talking to each other, your childhood best friend decided to reach out again, how will everything go?
note: heavy make out session with suna, he says ily as the stupid boy he is, thanks to @sunalma cos one of the songs is out of her playlists<33
series masterlist - part 6
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An elevator ride couldn't feel so long and short at the same time, biting your lip, scared of seeing that person after so many years.
Clumsily taking your keys out of your bag, you open the door and there you saw it, perfect, handsome boy you fell in love on the young years of high school
“you look beautiful, as always” He told you with his deep voice that made you shiver on spot, he seemed more mature now, with features no longer like the ones of a teenage boy. You were out of guard when his arms wrapped comfortably around your waist, still leaning into it
Looking at him, at his eyes, that same green eyes that made you fall in love when you were a child and that green eyes that were making you fall in love, again “Rin, I missed you” you whisper with a soft tone, your head resting in the comfiness of the crook of his neck, his left hand came to cup your cheek, taking in how fucking pretty you looked like that
“I missed you too, so much, do you want to know what did I plan?”
“yeah rin, I'm sure I'm gonna love it" he took your hand in his, leading the way to the passenger sit in his car "you're not gonna found out until we are there, so you better be patient" he slid the seatbelt in front of him and pecked your hand before starting the car "okay, I can handle that"
"the aux is yours then, pretty girl"
your eyes widen after hearing that pet name "do you want me to call you daddy too?" it was supposed to be funny, you thought he would only call you pretty girl in texts, apparently not
"if you like"
Pretty Please by Dua Lipa starts playing in the background, gradually turning up the volume until it was hard to hear your own voice
Suna thought the sight was pretty, the window on your side rolled down with the wind all over your face, happily singing by the lyrics not giving a single fuck about the world, just as he loved to remember you
"This makes me remember of the old days but instead of the car, you in my room giving me a concert that, in fact, didn't ask for"
his comment took you back down to earth, old days, just old days, no feelings attached at the moment; you were praying to any god up there to make the butterflies go away in your gut go away, you were one hundred percent sure he could hear your heart beating from where he was sitting, not even the loud music could hide it
“old days? We should make new memories I think”
"yeah, we can make new memories but we shouldn't let go of the ones we have, hand me your phone" you did as you were told, suspicious of what he was about to do until you saw him open Spotify, oh okay, he is gonna change the song.
Fluorescent Adolescent was now blasting from the stereo "umm, love this song, gives me the dancing in front of a mirror with a brush vibe"
He chuckled at what you said "and you did that? would like to see it with my own eyes"
"We are almost there, babe, close your eyes"
"Babe? we are not dating, Rintaro"
"maybe we should"
maybe we what? that did take you back, choosing for peace, you shut your mouth and closed your eyes, anxiously waiting for what he had
"you have your eyes closed, right"
"yes, rin, they are closed, I didn't know you were blind"
he opened the door of your seat, interlacing your hands so he could guide you behind a tall tree "I need you to stay here until I have everything done, okay? it's not gonna take more than ten minutes" he didn't give you time to answer that he was already walking back to his car.
"better be something good" you murmured under your breath, turning on your phone to scroll through social media until he called you.
he called you exactly eight minutes after he dropped you behind the tree "if you don't like this, then I don't know what should I do"
The scene in front of you was dreamy to say at least, the back of his car decorated with fairy lights, lots of blankets that seemed so warm, and pillows in all their forms that you knew for a fact they were comfortable as fuck, you were quick to wrap your arms around his neck, chanting like a mantra 'rin, this is beautiful' and 'im so thankful' he gladly took you in his arms, his nose behind your ears, landing a sweet peck right there
"you ready for movie night, pretty girl?"
"bet your ass I'm ready, Rintaro Suna" and with that you were off, running to his car ready to spend the best night of your life
Or perhaps the beginning of the end, who knows
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Howl's moving castle last scenes were on the screen of his laptop, a weird feeling in your heart after he remembered it was- no, is your favorite; you two stared sitting beside the other and now he has his arm protectively around you, his back straight against the backseat while your head was on top of his underarms, cheeks smashed to his collarbone "you did remember it, rin" your eyes still locked on the screen in front of you, watching the movie credits.
He looked down at you with soft eyes, deciding to close the laptop and pull it aside "how could I not? hand me my phone"
you did as you were told, searching for the little device under the huge blankets "here! take it"
he quickly searched for a song and toss it aside, I Wanna Be Yours playing inside the car from the 11-inch phone "come here" he signaled, patting his lap.
it took you a good minute to realize what he meant but now you're on top of him, looking at his emerald eyes in search of a hint of what he is thinking
he took his time analyzing your feature, looking at your cheeks, forehead, baby hairs, nose, lips, and finally your eyes, he could see the past in them, and a little of his future too
"not as much as you, rin"
he didn't answer, to lost in the paradise of your face, he was now focused on your lips, how would they taste?
to answer his own question, he leaned into your face, into your lips that he knew that were begging to be touched by his own
your eyes were wide, taken by surprise by his action, even if you saw it coming, it was something you were dreaming for years now
he looked at your eyes again for a kind of permission, and when he saw you nod, his hand was in the back of your neck in a matter of seconds while yours found home on his hair, tugging it slightly
"a kiss and you're all whiny and needy"
"shut up and fucking kiss me-"
he took the chance of sliding his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every single place he could, his free hand now on your lower back to move you back and fort his lap, he took the flavor of the artificial coconut lip balm you were wearing, he took all he could, in fact
"not only you look good but you taste good too" you hear him groan before going into it again, soft pants coming out of your mouth, whimpering his name as a mantra r-rin, r-innie, arching your back to be closer to him, you could feel his smirk on your now puffy lips with every movement of your hips, the hand on your lower back now going down to grip your thigh
pulling out to catch a little air, you rested your head on his large neck, you two were in comfortable silence, your head rested against his chest and his hands caressing your cheek
maybe ten minutes passed while you were cuddling until your phone screen turned up after a notification- you didn't care about it but the time, past two in the morning "rin, would you take me home? is getting late" he gave your cheek a sweet kiss before standing out the car, extending his hands to help you do the same "of course I can, pretty girl"
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the drive back home was quiet, you could hear Apocalypse in the car radio, looking by the window to the beautiful night lights in the city, suna's hand on your thigh, playing with it from time to time, using the other one to drive
"We are here"
"Thanks for bringing me home, rin, I had fun"
he stepped out of the car with you- not letting you out that easily, his hands with a firm grip of your waist and silence was around the two of you, just appreciating the presence of each other, your hands going inside his jackets to hold his waist too
"good night, I love you" he told you and sealed his words with one last kiss
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