#just a lil casual intimacy its just what he needs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

obiwhat · 2 years

Note

Hey eli! Was wondering if you could write a fic about a character from aot having appendicitis? It could be during a mission of some sort, it totally up to you! Just needed a character to suffer a lil'. You can choose any character comfortable for you to write, Levi, Eren, anything you're comfortable with. thank you!!

hi hi luv!! so sorry for the long wait but i have brought a long fic!! loll hope u enjoy and thank u so much for waiting! <33

Desire to Burn:

(warnings: emetophobia, blood, surgery)

It’s started out small. As most things do.

He hadn’t been very hungry the night prior. However, it wasn’t entirely uncommon for people to lose their appetites on the night before an expedition. The nerves would build up inside, fears over the fate that was waiting for them outside the walls. However, Levi had never felt this way. He felt the weight of the destruction, of course, but he never felt nerves coinciding it.

Eating enough was important. Although he wasn’t perfect about remembering to eat every few hours or so, if something was placed in front of him, he wouldn’t let it go to waste. Levi knew what it meant to be without food. He knew the pangs of hunger and what it felt like to wither away.

However, as he stared down at his bread and soup the night before their expedition, he couldn’t bear to sip more than a few measly spoonfuls. The food was bland on his tongue, more so than usual, and his stomach felt twisted up inside. Almost, painfully.

Ruefully, he wondered if he was coming down with something. That wouldn’t do, there was too much work to do for him to succumb to a fucking stomachache.

Levi laid on top of Erwin’s chest that night, willing the ache in his stomach to subside. His bare, warm, skin pressed against Erwin’s, it was distracting enough to melt the ache away. It was the familiar feeling of the two of them melting into one another. An intimacy that was so pure and good, that it felt as though they were creating a new space. Reserved only for them. Matching their slow breathing, in and out in sweet harmony, they both let sleep sink them deeper into the sheets.

—

With how tired his partner looked the night before, Erwin was relieved to see him out of bed before him. It made everything seem like it was back to their normal routine; Levi waking early and already making tea as Erwin struggled close behind.

As put together as he seemed during work hours, Erwin was a bit of a mess in the mornings. He relied on Levi’s fast paced and organized nature to keep him on track. Just as he mused the idea to himself, he spotted Levi entering the doorway with two cups of black tea, right on schedule.

“Your clothes are pressed and folded on the dresser. Here’s your tea. Lineup is in 30 minutes.” He placed the cup and saucer on the bedside table as Erwin rubbed his tired eyes.

When did my partner turn into my secretary? Erwin fought back a chuckle and simply nodded with a smile.

“Thank you, dove.” He took the tea into both hands, feeling its perfect warmth against his skin and breathing in the smooth smell of a mix of citrus in the leaves. It went down smooth and warm against his throat, waking him up a bit.

Hardly within his field of vision, he spotted Levi wrapping a casual arm around his stomach as he sipped tea next to the dresser. For anyone else this gesture would be brushed off, but Erwin knew him too well. That was not how Levi usually moved.

“Feeling alright?” Erwin prodded, lowering his cup.

“The gray sludge we call breakfast isn’t sitting right. No surprise there.” Levi mentioned offhandedly, fixing each strap tightly against his button down shirt. His back looked stiff and tense as he did so.

Erwin stood, putting down his cup and positioning himself in front of Levi. He swiftly took the straps for his legs and tightened them for him. “Will you be alright for the mission?”

Levi scoffed and folded his arms in front of himself. “I think I’ll survive a little stomach ache, Erwin.”

As Erwin finished the straps with care, he stood and cupped Levi’s cheek in his palm, waiting for a moment to get a good read on him.

“You’re not warm.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m fine, like I just said.” Levi swatted his hand away lightly and took his tea in his grip again. “Now get moving or do I need to remind you that lineup is in 30 fucking minutes?”

“30 minutes. Oh.” Erwin hurried over to the stack of clothes on the dresser, coming back to Levi to kiss his cheek before getting dressed.

Levi shoed his pecks away, hurrying him along like always. He watched Erwin disappear behind the door of the bathroom and waited for the click of the handle before returning to his tea with pleasure.

However, the tea was feeling less comforting than usual. Usually tea was one solace during the mornings of expeditions, it coated his throat warmly and sent him into motion quickly. Today, it felt as though it sank to the pit of his stomach and twisted up his intestines like a poison.

The fact that Erwin had even noticed his pain from before probably wasn’t the best sign. It had only been getting worse ever since it started up the night before. During his sleep, what little he had, he tossed and turned uncomfortably. Each way he shifted his weight only sent knives to his stomach.

He’d lied about eating breakfast. He was hardly managing to drink his tea. That made two meals that he hadn’t been able to stomach. At this rate, he’d get weak if he didn’t eat something.

Knowing Erwin would take a bit of time to get ready still, Levi wandered out into the hallway, set in the direction of the mess hall. Walking made his stomach ache as if pins and needles were poking into him with each step. He waited until a group of cadets passed by before wrapping his arm around it again.

The thought passed through his mind that he should tell Hanji at least. Maybe they’d have some cure-all for him. He quickly nixed the idea, they’d probably just make me worse with some smoking concoction of theirs.

Levi got a leftover biscuit from the mess before it closed for the day. He ended up walking around with it tightly clutched in his hand, avoiding the act of actually eating it for as long as possible. Finally, he stopped pacing in front of the training yard and shoved the small biscuit into his mouth stubbornly, forcing it down his throat in only two bites.

He’d eaten something now. He’d be fine.

He’d be totally… completely…

Levi shoved a hand over his lips as saliva filled his mouth. Nausea hit him like a ton of bricks, making him sway dizzyingly on his feet. The green field of the training yard danced in his vision as he bent over the side of the brick half wall.

Shit. Shit, no, please…

Sick to his aching stomach, Levi lurched over and threw up into the grass. That act of losing what little he’d stomached made his torso scream out in pain, so much so that he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

Tears threatened to fall across his cheeks as he dry heaved over and over, until the motion only served to jar his stomach rather than to clear it.

This is bad.

I should… I should tell someone.

—

Levi had assumed that being off his feet would help with the pain, but the sway of a horse was much, much worse. Each time his horse’s shoes hit the dirt, a knife dipped in flames was pressed into his stomach.

This was no stomach ache, not the cause of bad food, so maybe it was a stomach bug? He’d had a couple cases as a kid. He’d get a high fever, puke his guts out, and be fine by morning. But this pain… that was not the same.

He should’ve told someone. Levi knew it was fucking stupid not to at least tell someone that he was in pain, but he figured he’d push through it and not trouble anyone in case it faded eventually. Pain is the best motivator, as Kenny would say.

Midday came along without too many titans to take down, Levi had not launched from his horse yet. He was fearful for the agony it would cause when he’d be forced to. His straps were tight against his skin, maybe he’d latched them too tight? They were digging, stabbing, rubbing against his aching flesh with irritation. It was driving him crazy. Maybe flying would be better. Distracting even.

“Abnormal to the right!” Petra yelled, before black smoke erupted from her gun, alerting the other squadrons to their left.

Levi peered around her to the crouching titan behind them, it’s head was just barely visible above the trees. Another squad was closer to it than his own, their eyes bled with panic and terror as it gained on them.

“Should we handle it, sir?” Gunther called out from over Levi’s left shoulder.

Their captain wiped a sheet of sweat from his brow and swallowed dryly before speaking. “It’s only one. I’ll do it.”

He caught a hint of concern in Petra’s eyes as his legs shook against his horse’s back while he stood to launch. Levi ignored it. There was nothing to worry about. He was fine. He could handle this. A little pain is nothing.

Levi swung through the trees, over the squadron about to be crushed by the big ugly monster as it swung its arms around haphazardly. Flying was like second nature, more comfortable than walking sometimes. This was easy, one distracted titan was easy to take out usually. Usually.

His straps felt like they were piercing through his skin each time he curved around the trees to get behind the titan. It was more than pain, this was fucking agonizing. As the nape of the titan came into view, a perfect shot, Levi felt like he’d be sick again. Saliva filled his mouth as he closed his eyes and let his instincts take over, moving his arms to slice like a puppet on strings.

That’s what he’s always been. Strength and power was in his nature and pain was his motivator. This ache would be no different than any other.

Finding his horse again, Levi huffed breaths as he landed as softly as he could muster. His squad lit up with his arrival.

“Amazing, Captain! What a perfect takedown!”

Levi couldn’t quite understand what they were saying as they praised him. He doubled over and tried not to dry heave on the back of his galloping horse. His stomach burned as though he’d swallowed embers. Sweat accuminated quickly on his brow and the back of his neck.

Petra, who already seemed concerned earlier, was also sweating. She looked like she was grasping something that the others didn’t. Levi wanted to order her not to stare but it was hard enough to not lose his fight with his stomach.

“Captain? Are you alright? You’re not injured, are you?” Petra yelled over the hooves against dirt and the praise of her teammates. The rest of the squad went quiet, eyes peering into the back of Levi’s head.

He waved a hand of dismissal nonchalantly. “Got a bit of titan blood in my mouth. I’m fine, just disgusted.”

That seemed to satisfy them to some extent despite the fact that his posture never really corrected through the rest of the night's push. He was hunched over, one hand gripping the reins and the other gripping the belts on his torso as they rejoined the main squadron by sunset.

Erwin seemed as relieved as always when spotting Levi’s squad. Levi straightened himself up and put both hands back on his reins. He nodded in Erwin, Miche, and Hanji’s direction, checking each one of them over to make sure they were alright as well.

“Any issues, Levi squad?”

“No, sir,” Levi responded stiffly. “One abnormal but the stupid bastard’s been dealt with. Smooth sailing so far.”

Erwin nodded gratefully and eyed Levi critically. He had that habit. When they would rondevu together once more after separation, Erwin would give Levi a long, piercing look, as if peering into him to find if he was perfectly alright. As warm as the gesture was meant to be, it always sort of made his skin crawl.

“The base town is just a couple of markers away. We will rest and water our horses there for the night as discussed,” Erwin announced, satisfied enough by his analysis of his captain, he focused his attention forward now.

Levi nodded sharply and willed away the spinning motion it caused. His grip was tight against his reins as they pressed forward. So tight that his knuckles went a stark white until he heard the last marker click beneath their horses and spotted an abandoned village behind the trees.

There were only a few houses still left standing. Usually foot soldiers would set up tents around the perimeter while section leaders and officials slept in the few rooms. Levi looked forward to laying out in a bed soon and sleeping off his aches.

“The sun will drop below the treeline soon. Prepare to set up camp.” Erwin slid off of the side of his horse with the ease of routine and addressed his top soldiers as the rest began setting things up. “Levi. Miche. Hanji. Secure a perimeter and keep first watch from the trees.”

“Titan watching?” Hanji’s face went deep red with excitement.

Levi bopped them on the back of the head lightly as he passed by, arm firmly wrapped around his middle. “Quit drooling, Four-Eyes.”

As per usual, Hanji ignored his rough exterior and tagged right along cheerfully with Miche and him. The three launched into the trees nearby, scouting the area for activity.

Levi’s belts and gear felt heavy on his body as he swung. His gear ate at his sides, dragging him down and making that ache from before shift into more of a sharp cramping.

As he swung to the next tree, what he assumed was the best place to mark their perimeter, he stopped there, rubbing his torso bitterly. This pain was not going away. In fact, it seemed that with the action he was facing, it was only getting worse.

“All clear, Levi?”

“Clear.” Levi’s voice was distracted and pained as he responded, something he subconsciously winced at.

He could tell Miche still had his eyes trained on him, but he didn’t look his way. The captain simply leaned himself up on the tree behind him and sank to a seat.

“Hanji?” Miche yelled out.

“Right as rain, Michey Miche.”

“Please stop calling me that.” Miche sighed and sat crossed legged on his tree branch a few trees down from Levi.

“Boo! You two are no fun.” Hanji stuck out their tongue and launched themself to the other side of the perimeter to set up a good viewpoint.

As Hanji departed, Miche glanced over to Levi again. This time, irritation growing, Levi turned his head and stared the man down.

“What?” He practically growled.

The section leader seemed to sniff into the air in Levi’s direction. Something Levi had seen him do when they first met and whenever titans were around. The captain looked over his shoulder and around the perimeter they’d crafted, finding none in sight.

That means he’s smelling me, and here I thought Four-Eyes was a weirdo.

“You smell different.”

Knowing the extent of this man’s sense of scent, his mind started racing. Could Miche smell Erwin on his jacket, maybe? Would that be an issue? How deeply did this ability go?

“You smell like tainted meat.”

“Tainted. Meat.” Levi deadpanned, throwing out all of his anxieties from a moment ago.

Nah, I was right the first time around. This guy’s just a being a freak.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t mean any offense. Usually you smell like soap and a bit of citrus, but I smelled it earlier while we were riding and again now that we’re alone.”

“I didn’t roll in a bath of tainted meat this morning if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“I’m not.” Miche stared blankly, almost appearing concerned.

Levi recognized his look and stubbornly sniffed himself out of annoyance. “Soap. I smell like soap. Like always.”

His stomach pain was still gnawing at him from the short trip into the trees. He swallowed back the pain and nausea and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Do you feel alright?” Miche prodded suddenly.

Levi rolled his eyes. “Yes. I feel fucking dandy. Would you quit smelling me and watch our damn perimeter?”

“…Alright.”

Miche turned.

Levi wrapped both arms around his middle.

—

In the dead of night, he wrapped his cloth blankets a bit higher over his exposed chest, wincing at the way the fabric dragged irritatingly on his skin. Military grade blankets weren’t made of silk of course, but they’d never felt this harsh against his skin before.

This is a fever, isn’t it? He thought as he draped a wrist over his eyes, feeling no change in heat. Maybe he was hot all over? It was hard to tell where hot and cold ended and where the two twisted within his skin.

He lay in unrest, thrashing in bed relentlessly as each wave of chills sent through him like a frozen gust of wind. It wasn’t cold. He knew this. It was nearing the summer solstice after all and he was covered from head to toe in blankets. He shouldn’t be cold.

Each tense muscle tremble quaking through his thin body sent a wall of pain crashing into his torso. Levi wrapped himself tightly, curling on his side in an attempt to soothe the agony. Nothing was working, he was sweating through his shirt as things started to spin. The cracked house walls around him were sent into a swirling mess of bauge color.

The color started to fade and recede to a stark black and white contrast, revealing a familiar face in the dark of his makeshift room. A long black hat shadowed dark, sunken eyes of hatred.

“Kenny?”

“Writhing like the rodent you are, huh brat?”

The captain blinked once and thrashed his head around as sweat seemed to pool in his bedding. He was drowning in it. He was going to drown.

No. This wasn’t real, Kenny wasn’t back. He wouldn’t come back. Why would he?

“I came back to watch you die. Pathetic.”

No. No. No. No. This wasn’t real. Wake up. Wake the fuck up. He’s not… It’s not…

“Darling?”

Levi’s eyes went wide as saucers at the familiar sound of his mother’s voice. A voice from so long ago, yet instantly familiar and calming. Dark hair draped over thin cheekbones and kind eyes. She was reaching for him with that old familiar look of concern and endearment. Unconditional and unrelenting love.

“Mother?”

As she reached out a soft hand, coming to caress his smoldering skin, her hands began to wither away. Thin and boney until they turned to dust on impact with his skin.

He felt sick as his heart sank into his stomach, watching his mother disappear into nothingness. He cried out like a child once more as his throat went dry and his voice receded into a rasp.

“You killed her.”

Kenny’s voice again, whispering tauntingly to him this time around. He was lurking behind Levi now, watching with disgust as he cried in silence.

“She could’ve left that place, found a life for herself, if she didn’t have to watch over you.”

“She could’ve lived. If she hadn’t had you. You killed your mother, Levi.”

Icy steel eyes burst from tightly clenched eyelids as Levi tumbled from his bedding, trapped in a tangle of sweat-damp sheets. They twisted up his legs, straggling his irritated skin. He heaved in and out desperately but nothing seemed to help. No air filled his lungs. But saliva began filling his mouth.

The writhing man cupped a hand in front of his lips desperately and managed to escape from entrapment of sheets. He stumbled to the window beside him. The sky was dark with a pale blue edging on the horizon, a cool wind struck his face as he flung the window open.

Tears tracked down his cheeks with shame as he lost whatever he’d managed to keep down during the day before. It wasn’t much in the first place, but it was all gone from him now. His stomach pained him as he hunched over and wrapped himself with both arms.

Levi felt hollow. He felt sick and alone. And for a moment of weakness, all he wanted was to see his mother reach out that soft hand once more. He wanted her to hold back his hair from his eyes and rub his back as each wave of dry heaving trapped the air within his lungs.

But that cruel nightmare held some truth. He had killed her, hadn’t he? And he didn’t deserve the love that she’d given him. He would never be worth that kind of love again.

Sinking to the cold floor below, Levi pressed his burning cheek against the wood, letting his heat sink into the floorboards. It was disgusting, pressing his fucking face to the ground like this, but he couldn’t move. Everything was burning. His stomach, his chest, his head.

It was a recompense wasn’t it? Didn’t he deserve to burn?

—

Every agonizing bob of his horse against the forest floor sent shocking waves of pain through his side. He’d been stabbed and shot before, plenty of times, but nothing could compare to this pain. As the horses increased speed, Levi’s horse followed their example and he watched his vision go horribly dark.

It was a wonder that he’d even gotten to his horse this morning. In fact… he didn’t remember getting on his horse in the first place.

The pain was mind numbing, a hot press of steel into his body with the slightest contact. The agony alone was enough to make him dizzy, but the fever was just as harsh. It had burned through the night, made him toss and turn in a pool of cold sweat as he shivered desperately to find any source of warmth.

It was warm out, some soldiers had folded up their sleeves. However, his body seemed unaware of this as he continued his quivering well into the morning ride.

The pain in his side was going to make him pass out. Even in a hazy mind, he knew that to be true. With each passing tree, each marker placed, his vision became more and more blurrier.

The belts and straps dug into his skin, he was sure they might bleed any moment. Because pain came alongside blood didn’t it? Where was the blood accompanying this wound inside of him? Where did it originate?

Why was the forest spinning?

Shit.

He could make out the faint outline of the Scouts symbol on the back of his commander. It wavered like pond water, as though he were looking in and expecting his own reflection only to be met with something else entirely.

Levi's frail hand quivered as he reached forward, reaching for… He was…

“Erwin…” A rasp died in his throat. He uttered the name as if a simple word might save him from the agony in his body.

His vision darkened, swayed, tipped and then he saw grass and dirt and felt it scrap against his burning cheeks.

—

“—evi? Levi, can you hear me?”

Who was that? Why did they sound like they were underwater? Am I underwater?

Levi flinched as someone placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. His eyes shot open and he moaned as even the smallest movement felt like a burning knife had pierced his skin.

“Shh, hey it’s alright. It’s just me.” Erwin. Golden hair and beautiful blue eyes looking down at him, he couldn’t help but sigh a breath of relief. “I need to move you so Hanji can take a look, okay?”

The captain finally noticed the presence of Hanji next to him. They smiled a reassuring smile but Levi could see that even they were overly concerned. But why? What had happened?

Wasn’t I just riding my horse?

Behind Erwin’s glittering hair in the wind swayed gigantic trees above. Levi jerked upwards.

“Fuck,” he swore and wrapped himself tightly, listing to one side as a wave of agony shot through his side all the way to his toes. His head ached harshly as his body seemed to register more and more pain all over.

“Levi, lay back down,” Erwin commanded him like he would a cadet; slow and loud. Levi’s ears rang as he eased him down on his back again. Levi’s cloak had been removed, now tucked underneath his head as he laid.

“Wha…” his voice croaked, he recorrected himself quickly, “What… happened?”

“You fell off your fucking horse, that’s what,” Hanji barked at his other side, grating his ears.

“H-How…? I don’t… understand…” Levi’s vision spun as Hanji and Erwin’s face mixed into one. He closed his eyes sharply and opened them again to find them separated. Underneath bated breath, he cursed once more.

“He’s probably concussed, have you checked his head yet?” Erwin took his cheeks into his large tan hands to check for himself. Erwin’s hands were cool against his skin, a bucket of ice water on the fire that was his body.

Is Erwin cold too? Is that why his hands are so cold?

“Erwin… Y’should take my cloak. Y-You’re so… You’re so…” The thought was suddenly lost to him, as though it slipped straight through his fingers and onto the forest floor. Maybe he should search for it.

“He’s burning up, Hanji.”

Erwin’s voice sounded as serious as a death sentence. Maybe it was. And maybe that was alright with Levi.

“What?” Hanji inquired. Levi heard the sound of leaves shuffling before a new pair of hands brushed across his cheeks and brought icy chill once more.

“Moblit, get my bag.” Hanji commanded, sounding nearly frantic. Why is everyone so cold?

“What is this, Hanji? What’s wrong with him?”

Erwin’s voice again. Keep talking, please.

“We need to get him on a reducer as soon as possible. I’ll need his shirt off if you can manage that. Gotta make sure this lil dummy didn’t hide any wounds.”

Levi registered their words slowly, responding even slower, “I… didn’t…”

“Shh… Levi, just relax.” Erwin, oh, Erwin is still here. Good, good. “I’m going to unhook your gear and take off your shirt really slowly, okay?”

Levi suddenly felt a wave of thankfulness wash over as he recalled the belts eating away at his side like a jagged knife. He nodded quickly, cursing himself as it made him dizzy.

Erwin’s fingers were gentle and precise as he unhooked each layer of belting one by one. The relief from the lack of constraints on his already aching torso was overwhelming. Levi found his fevered brain hoping he’d never wear them again. Stupid mess of straps. What were they even for?

The shirt was a bit harder of a task because it required Erwin to lift Levi just barely to unbutton it and pull it off. He tried not to wince as his commander did so, but it was an impossible task at this point.

“There. Sorry about that love.” Erwin whispered as he set the belts and shirt to the side and caressed his forehead.

Levi blinked up at him and watched his blurry form start to change. Erwin’s face was cracking, turning to ash right in front of him, falling down onto his shirt. Disappearing, he’d be gone at any moment, just like… just like his…

Erwin felt a sudden slap of burning palms against his cheeks. A sharp draw of breath came from the sick man below him, a shutter next. His eyes were wide and… oh god, he’s afraid.

Levi’s slender hands shook where they grasped Erwin’s face. He looked desperate to make them still, to make everything still.

“Le—?”

“No. No, no, no. I c-can't let y-you…” Another shutter escaped Levi’s lips as he mumbled incoherently.

“Let me, what?” Erwin nearly whispered.

“Can’t… Can’t… y-you…” Levi trailed off suddenly, his already weak grip failing. His hand fell to Erwin’s shoulders as he let out a sudden hiss of pain. He brought his teeth down hard on his lips to stifle it.

“No, Levi. Don’t bite so hard, you’ll bleed,” Erwin coaxed and took his burning hands into his own, bringing them back down to the forest floor.

“S’hurts… It’s… Ah… G-God…”

Erwin shot his gaze quickly to Hanji, desperate for them to do something, anything. Levi was in horrible pain, Erwin could feel it aching in his own chest as well.

“For now, help him take these.” Hanji held out two pills in their palm for Levi to take. As he was barely conscious anyway, Erwin took them from Hanji and guided them to Levi’s mouth before he placed a canteen to his dry lips.

Levi swallowed very slowly, as if he’d already learned his lesson about drinking too fast. Erwin frowned at that observation.

“What are the pills for?” Erwin inquired, as Levi moved his head away and shivered on the ground.

“His fever and pain. They should at least take the edge off.” They paused looking over Levi’s body for wounds. “Hopefully.”

They expected to find a gaping side wound that would explain his fever and pain but it was more eerie to find no wounds at all. That meant, to the best of their knowledge, that the problem wasn’t on the outside. Something was wrong on the inside.

“Levi, I’m going to poke around a bit okay? Tell me when it hurts.”

“Wha… d’you m-mean poke—?”

Their prodding was as gentle as can be, surprisingly, but as soon as their fingers grazed over his right side, his back arched off the grass. Levi couldn’t hold back the whimper that tore through his throat.

“F-Fuck you, fucking Four-Eyes!—”

They brought their hands up in surrender. “Sorry sorry! I was being as careful as I could!” Hanji explained quickly.

Levi glared at them but his eyes were glazed and exhausted, so it didn’t exactly have the effect he seemed to be aiming for. Plus, he was glaring to the side of them and not actually at them.

“So, your right side, then? That’s what hurts?”

“Mhm…” He struggled to confirm their suspicion.

“Hm, I see.” Hanji went a bit quiet, the knobs in their mind obviously hard at work.

They’d heard of something like this before. Something to do with an organ. Infection. That would explain the fever. But despite their excellent memory, the section leader would need their lab and medical books to look further into the theory. Neither of those things were readily available out here. Fever, intense pain, enough to make even Levi show it. That was not something that would go away. It would probably only get worse.

“We need to go back.” Hanji suddenly blurted out. “If we travel at night we can make it back with fewer delays.”

“Hanji, do you know what this might be?”

“I have a theory.” Hanji bit their lip as they scanned Levi’s now mostly unconscious form. “And if I’m right, we need to get back to the legion as soon as possible.”

Erwin’s face paled. He looked around to the scouts and then back to Levi, whose face was scrunched up in pain even in unconsciousness.

“He won’t…” Erwin swallowed the fear that threatened to creep into his voice. “He won’t last the trip. His fever is too high.”

Hanji looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

“He’ll die.”

“It’s surgery, Erwin. He needs surgery, you can’t ask me to—”

“I’m not asking.”

Hanji sucked in a breath, held it tight, and let it out slow. Looking back to Erwin, they watched as a bead of sweat dripped down his cheek. His hand was still lingering tightly around Levi’s, as though he wasn’t ready to let him go just yet. Hanji was sure he might never be, they felt the same way.

If this was the only way to save their little friend, Hanji would do it. Or at least, they would try.

“I can’t work here. I need a clean place to operate. At least… clean enough.”

Erwin nodded and stood, addressing the soldiers that had already been lingering around them in a crowd. “As you all are clearly aware, Captain Levi has become very ill. He will require surgery. We will need to return to the town so prepare to disengage from today’s charting shortly.”

As soon as he’d sent everyone into motion, Erwin crouched back down into the leafs with a crunch. He wrapped a hand around Levi’s cheek again, as if to remind himself of the sickening heat. Hanji stood to gather their horse and gear, it was best to leave Erwin with Levi. He needed rest if he were to travel again.

“I’ll stay with him,” Erwin said, although they both already knew this. “Will you bring my horse over? I’ll ride with him back.”

“Yes. Of course.” Hanji nearly whispered at Erwin as they watched him hover over Levi. “Try a cool rag on his forehead to bring his fever down.”

“Oh, yes, thank you.” The commander scrambled to find something to wet with the water in his canteen. Finally, his eyes landed on Levi’s cravat. The man would curse him, but it was the only foreseeable option. Erwin unwrapped the fabric from his pale neck and quickly wet it before placing it on Levi’s forehead.

The captain’s eyes shifted under the cool cloth on his forehead, it seemed to relax him, even just barely.

—

“Where’s…?”

He groaned in pain, speaking alone had become too much for him. “Erwin…”

Levi felt himself start to panic as he could barely see anything, blinded by waves of pain.

Where is this place? Why wasn’t anyone answering him? Was he alone? Was Erwin alright?

When would the pain end?

“Shh… It’s alright, shorty. You’re moving too much, don’t struggle.”

That wasn’t Erwin, but the voice sounded familiar.

“Erwin…” He called out again, ignoring the other voice. He needed his anchor, he needed Erwin. “Please. I can’t… I can't see you…”

He felt like crying like a kid. It might have been the fever or the horrible pain that was relentless and throbbing deeper and deeper. He felt tears hot on his cheek as the next wave of agony struck him. Nothing made sense. Nothing was familiar. Levi was alone in his mind and Erwin was far away.

—

“He’s been calling for you,” Hanji mentioned as Erwin rounded the operation table, or at least what they were currently deeming as such. Hanji had laid out Levi on a kitchen table of one of the abandoned houses in the village. He’d been thrashing relentlessly for the past hour as everyone prepared for the surgery and Hanji tried to figure out what exactly they were about to attempt.

“Moblit, is there anything stronger we can give him? The pain reliever is barely taking the edge off at this point,” Hanji mentioned, not making eye contact with either of them. Erwin was sure if he did see their eyes he would see their fear as well.

Erwin watched Moblit dig through the bag out of the corner of his eye as he placed down the bowl of hot water Hanji had requested.

“No, sir. Sorry, sir,” Moblit mumbled. “That’s the last of the reliever.” He handed it to them as they quickly tried to coax Levi into taking some.

The captain had sweated straight through his collared shirt. His eyes, when open, were unfixed and glazed over. His gaze settled far away from Hanji as they led another round of pills to his lips between his thrashing.

“Come on, Levi. Just a little bit more and we’ll have you back to normal in no time,” Hanji’s voice shook despite their reassurances, their hands following suit.

Levi mumbled incoherently, tossing his head away sharply. His lips trembled ever so slightly as his eyes finally landed on Erwin briefly.

“Levi?” It was barely a rasp, but Erwin could see Levi’s immediate recognition of his voice. He drew closer to him, taking his hand. “Levi. It’s me. You need to be still for a moment while we give you some medicine for the pain. Does that sound alright?”

The sick man gave no evidence that he understood Erwin’s words but he became still enough for Hanji to place the pills on his tongue and coax some water down his throat. Erwin brought his free hand to Levi’s cheek again and caressed his damp hair back behind his ears.

“This is to save you, my dove,” Erwin began, surveying the room as he did so.

Hanji stood at attention on Levi’s right side, readied with their clean instruments. Moblit and Miche stood at the end of bed with their hands hovering over Levi’s legs.

“Please forgive me.”

Erwin bared down on Levi’s left arm, holding him in place. Levi was dazed, confused by the sudden weight, he looked around nervously. New restraints were pressed to his legs by Miche and Moblit.

“I’ll start the first incision. Hold him tightly.”

“Er… win…” Levi blinked lazily to the right of Erwin, not even meeting his eyes. A tear fell across his cheek, mixing with the fever sweat.

—

Levi had been screaming. Screaming until his breath ran low and his throat became hoarse.

Erwin had… He had never heard Levi scream before. The voice obviously belonged to him but it had seemed so unreal.

It was piercing and it made his blood run ice cold.

But now he laid still, draped across sheets. Hanji was washing his blood from their hands now. Miche and Moblit were nursing bruises from the captain’s fierce battle during the surgery.

But now he laid still.

His breaths were slow, not rushed. His screams had died down long ago and left small whimpers in their wake. The field surgery was a success. Levi’s fever was the only issue that remained, but Hanji had reassured Erwin over and over that the fever would fade as well. With time, with rest.

They all left him in the still silence after the shrill screaming. He sat in a wooden chair by Levi’s bedside as soon as he’d been carried over to it. Erwin draped his head across the blankets and watched with intensity as Levi’s chest rose and fell.

He was so grateful. So privileged to watch these breaths depart from his captain’s lips.

Erwin planned to tell him just how grateful he felt. He would tell him just how grateful he was that Levi was alive.

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akaashisupremacy · 3 years

Text

Yes, Always

Summary: Having broken off your engagement for an arranged marriage with Gojo, your relationship is in shreds. As you and Gojo try to pick up the pieces, what does love look like?

Gojo Satoru x reader

Multi-fandom Masterlist || HQ Masterlist || Ao3 version

Genre: Mostly fluff, lil bit of domestic angst, exes to friends to lovers (wc: 1.8k)

“How on earth are you still bed when the sun is setting? Gojo Satoru dramatically bursts into your apartment. The door flings open and you’re sure the knob dented the wall.

You don’t even blink. His theatrics rarely faze you anymore. You shift on your bed to face the wall.

You don’t have energy for this.

Gojo knows you since your childhood. You hadn’t always been so easy to tire. But Jujutsu work was a lot. It accumulated fatigue that drained you physically and emotionally ever so often.

“You cancelled on Ieri, I knew something was up and I was right!” he placed his hands on his hips. He walks over to you.

You yawn and ignore him.

Gojo opens a window and pulls out your covers in response.

“Hey!” you yelp.

“You go shower while I make you something to eat.” he commands.

You continue to ignore him.

He tries to haul you off the bed and into the tub.

You finally sit up, crossed beyond words. He kneels down so he can look up to you.

“You need a warm shower. It will help you feel better, I promise.” he says firmly, “Get yourself some fresh clothes. I’ll run you a bath.” His tone is is a mix of stern and gentle in away you don’t hear often.

You grudgingly get up and do as he says.

You drag yourself off the bed and into the bathroom. As you body soak in the hot water, the fatigue peel off and you feel re energised. You look up at the steam that floats around you.

Your reverie is interrupted by the kitchen noises.

Why was he doing this? You thought to yourself. This wasn’t like him to cross the boundaries of your home and to check up on you. Sure you were dating, but coming over was way too cozy for Gojo who only ever dated casually.

You walk out in new clothes, hair still dripping wet.

Gojo had set up a pot over a portable stove on your dinner table with some food already boiling away. The smell of dinner on the way was already wafting in the air.

“Thanks for doing this.” You murmur, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into his chest.

Gojo resists the urge to pull away or look extremely nonchalant. He’a never been good with commitment or sincere expressions pf affection.

“The water was nice.” you added.

He carefully plants his hand your nape and press your forehead on his lips. You body is still warm from the shower. It still shocks him how close he can hold you.

“If you like the water so much we can go swimming in the summer.” he nods, “I’ve always wanted to go to Okinawa and go diving or snorkeling.”

You briefly pull away, “If we’re still seeing each other.”

He hesitates, “We will.”

“How do you know we’ll last till then?”

“I just do.” he pushes.

“Sure,” you take tour arms off him.

Gojo is not good at commitment. It is hard for him to sustain his interest in any one person, which you’ve accepted when you began dating him. Your set-up isn’t even exclusive. Why was he kidding himself?

Now that you’ve detached yourself from him. He heads back to the kitchen counter.

“Because this is the hardest I’ve tried.” he replies softly, “I’m concerned about you you think and how I make you feel. I don’t think I can take the weight of disappointment if things spiral a second time.”

You look at him as he prepares so vegetables. Gojo was your technically your ex-fiancee. You thought the break-up freed him. Maybe you weren’t completely right.

This is your second shot of your relationship. Why are you surprised that he’s trying so hard? Why is it difficult for you to believe in his sincerity?

“Okinawa sounds nice, I want some oysters.” you reply, taking out some bowls and chopsticks.

“I want to see you in a bikini.” He smirks.

You instinctively throw a towel at him. He dodges with a grin.

As the meatballs begin to cook, you both take a seat. Gojo recalls his conversation with his student earlier today.

“Yuuji,” Gojo called out as he enters the kitchen, “I need you to teach me how to make meatballs. I’m bringing them over for a friend.”

Itadori Yuuji is busy cutting up some mushrooms. Must be hotpot night again for the students.

“Here take this, this is ready made.” he pulls out a container of meatballs from the fridge.

“Aren’t you going to teach me how o make it?” Gojo asks his student, slightly perplexed.

“You look like you’re in a rush. I can teach you another time,” Iatdori smiles congenially and waves his hand. He causally takes the meat and scallions from Gojo’s bag and begin prepping them for his meal.

“Is this for you ex-wife?” he causally asks his teacher.

Gojo snorts, “Ex-fiancee. Yeah that one, they’re not feeling well today. I’m going to drop off something to eat.”

“I think it’s kind of nice you’re a second try.” Yuuji grins good naturedly.

“The first time wasn’t really a try. Our engagement was arranged.” Gojo packs some other things onto a bag, “Our marriage would have ended in flames if we had pushed through.”

“Yeah, but even if you had married, I think it would eventually work out. It might take years but you clearly do get along and you’re attracted to each other. You’re both willing to put in the work.” Yuuji reasons.

“Just people try doesn’t mean they always succeed.” Gojo mutters. Yuuji is the eternal optimist.

“Its not gonna work any better if you don try at all. Relationships aren’t a one time task.”

“Why can’t you just teach me? It’ll take just a little bit of time.” Gojo asks again. He slings the bag over his shoulder, ready to head out.

“But a little bit of time is still worth something. More time together is always good.” Yuuji nods.

“Just take it sensei,” Itadori said before he left the school, “Make the most out of today.”

——————————————————————

After dinner, you yawn. Gojo goes over your side and sweeps you off your chair. Your legs are dangling awkwardly over his arms. This feels so new yet strangely comfortable.

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

He looks into your eyes, framed by your lashes. Warmth has returned to your cheeks. Your face is brighter than when he first came.

You lace your arms around his neck.

Gojo has never been to your house on a personal visit before. He doesn’t know how to feel in this new kind of intimacy—an intimacy outside of sex. It is intensely emotional for him to see you at your lowest, at home, without the trappings of your jujutsu powers or even you work coat.

Who were you outside your jujutsu sorcerer? Who were the two of you outside of your jujutsu connections?

“Put me down, I want to stand.” you quietly request. He relents.

When Gojo gets up to do the dishes, you follow. You’re standing side by side, elbows bumping as a creeping sense of domesticity inches up his spine.

Gojo prefers to eat out. Cleaning up after dinner was like breakfast after sex—too much commitment.

“If this is freaking you out, we can stop.” You mumble, quickly reading through him “I can do the dishes and you can just go.”

He’s surprised by the exit you create for him, but he buckles down.

“I’m not running away from anything tonight.” he says. He’s shirking from extra time, not from his feelings and definitely not from you.

He fills his ears with the sound of clanking dishes and your slow and steady breath. His time today was your anyways. Why would he take it back? Domesticity is unfamiliar, but he so badly wants to give it a shot.

After all the dishes are put aside, you wipe his hands dry with the kitchen towel. His heart is racing, his palms sweaty. He thinks about cracking a joke to hide his tension, but decides otherwise.

You eyes look steadily at him, as if testing him to see if he will sat or go. He takes the towel and gently dries off your hands, careful to get in between your fingers and to be gentle around your wrists.

“I’m not going anywhere.” he remarks, “even if you don’t believe me.”

“I’m really trying.” he adds.

“I believe you.” you nod. Some of the tension and discomfort in his face fades.

You walk towards your room, “I’m going to bed. I’m tired.”

He scurries behind you, turning off the lights as he goes “Can I lie down beside you?”

You’re taken by surprise but you don’t let it show.

“Sure.”

Gojo mostly lies on top of the sheets and he watches you tuck yourself in. You look so young like this — pajamas, no make up, no work clothes.

You were arranged to be married by 20 and you look just that age. He notices you staring back at him, inspecting him in this new angle you’re both experiencing for the first time.

“Did you ever think about what our first night would be like?” you ask candidly.

He rolls onto his back and stares into the ceiling, “It would probably be awkward. I’ve thought about taking a sleeping pill to knock myself out. What about you?”

“Just the usual stuff.” you shrug.

“What usual stuff?” he prods.

You make a face and reply, “I guess I expected you’ll about some of my habits that I’m embarrassed about eventually.”

“It’s not the sex?” he asks surprised.

You laugh and shake your head. When you were younger you were curious about it, but once you learned what it was it didn’t seem as interesting to you.

“No, I thought the sex would just make me sad. Judging by the way things were going then, you’d be thinking of someone else while I give myself to you.” you turn away from him as you talk, sheepish to voice your hurt out loud and look at him in the eye at the same time, “You’d make me feel small, like my family did. For most of my life, my only value was to be married to you and I couldn’t even feel good in it.”

Your words heave silence into the room. You don’t know what expression he has on.

“Man, I sound like horrible husband.” he murmurs.

You slowly turn back to him.

“But that was what would have happened if we had married at 20. That’s not us anymore.” you shake your head.

Your faces so close your noses touched.

“What are you doing?” he half-asks.

You press your face to his shoulder. He pulls away a bit to get under the sheets. He wraps an arm around you and uses his other arm to turn off the lights.

“Can I stay tonight?” he breathes in your smell even though he already knows the answer. You feel so impossibly soft against him, he feels the lull of sleep approaching.

“Yes,” you barely whisper, “always.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wrote this as a follow up for another Gojo x reader fic who used to be engaged. Check out the other parts!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8

Comment or message to be added to the taglist! Or write down some comments about your feelsssss

Series Taglist: @tokyo-love-hotel @samkysnks@herownescape@cherrianne192@shamelessdonutsludgebanana@kageyamakock@shirostrbl@luvang3l @cloudsinthecosmos@httpjungoo @saturnki @itstheee-ha-chan @gucci-froggy @soy1melk @dora-the-grownup@cherryonigiri

If you’d like to continue being part of my taglist (JJK or Haikyuu), please let me know! I also write oneshots for both fandoms and soon I’ll be doing BSD too!

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x gender neutral reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jjk imagines #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo angst

300 notes · View notes

poppy-metal · 3 years

Note

Im curious what realistic aftercare is like? I also thought it was a fanfiction myth lol

it should be more normalized bc its healthy but it isn't bc usually men after sex don't feel the need to coddle or cuddle 🙃 especially if its casual sex, but tbh if ur having intense sex w someone whether its casual or not u deserve aftercare like its actually just human decency when u think abt it. women aren't chopped meat.

BUT ANYWAY sex w that person was rlly intense like it left my whole body shaking and i had tear tracks on my face (from crying bc of how good it felt during the act) and he went and got me a bottle of water and then immediately pulled me into his arms and started just talking to me abt this and that until i was calmed down. it honestly could have ended there but i was dead tired and so was he so he wanted me to send the night and we just talked and joked arnd alot and i communicate that i liked praise so he made sure to like compliment me and praise me alot for how good i was and then he just spooned me and kissed my neck and stuff until i went to sleep. It was very sweet

so i think aftercare in general is just them helping u come down and checking up on you. the prolonged holding and cuddling you can take or leave bc intimacy do be having a way of making u catch feelings so 🤪

it complicated things a lil bit bc it made me like him but that's also bc he's been the first ever man to be kind to me and treat me like a human being after sex LOL

#ask #sex talk #is what ill call me talking abt my sex life n sex stuff

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alinastracker · 3 years

Note

hello my dear bonnie, if you're still taking prompts, can i suggest #47 👀 ?

LOVE THIS PROMPT!!! here you go my love<3

prompt: you’re casually seeing my roommate and think they’re in the shower when you strip down to join me and we end up screaming and my roommate thinks it’s the funniest thing and tries to set us up on a date

yikes at this going from a quick lil ficlet to 6.7k oof

would it be okay if i came home to you (explicit) (ao3)

Alina steps into the shower, wondering how the hell she ended up rooming with Zoya to begin with.

Don't get her wrong, she loves Zoya. But her raven-haired friend can be difficult, and she was supposed to have buffer. Originally, it was going to be her, Zoya, and Genya living together, until Genya backed out last minute to move in with her boyfriend David instead.

"I'm so sorry, but it just makes sense," Genya said to them over lunch one afternoon. "Besides, if things go how I think they will, you two will be on the same path that I'm on soon enough."

Zoya scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Alina had the same question, considering both of them were hopelessly single.

Genya just sipped her tea and said in a sing-song voice, "You'll see."

At first, living with Zoya was fine. They agreed easily on most apartment related things; splitting up chores, rules about not touching each other's food, a timely heads up before having friends or potential sexual partners over. Zoya could get nit picky about a few things, like the lecture she'd given her on the proper position of the toilet paper roll. It goes over, Starkov, understand? Under is for heathens and natural selection is coming for them. But otherwise, things had been fine.

Until Mal.

He was a part of the friend circle she had surrounded herself with since freshman year. But there was something about Mal that had drawn her to him in a way that was different from the rest of the group — different from anyone else she had ever met. He was like a drug, a magnet, the missing link that had her saying, where have you been my whole life, when you're meant to be here beside me? So quickly he had become her closet friend, and as much as their group liked to tease them, they both denied feeling anything beyond fierce friendship.

But Alina was such a liar.

Which makes it her own fault, really, for ending up in this situation. Zoya could, quite frankly, be a bitch — but she wouldn't have gone after Mal if Alina had just owned up to her feelings.

Though she really could have told her about it sooner.

Alina had been studying in the living room one night when a knock at the door startled her. Zoya hadn't mentioned having company, and neither of them had ordered food. Hesitantly, she rose and stood on her tiptoes to peek through the peephole. Then her face lit up, and she swung the door open. "Mal!"

Saints, he looked good. He appeared freshly showered, dressed in a silky green shirt and dark jeans. He had actually put effort into his hair for once, and he had a small gold hoop earring in his left ear.

"Hey, Lina," he said, something a little off with the smile he gave her. As he passed by to come inside, she could smell expensive cologne.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, butterflies in her stomach. Her head was already filling with wild fantasies. He wanted to surprise her, so he showed up without notice. He put effort into how he looked, because he wanted to impress her. He was going to reveal his true feelings for her, and she would revel in the fact that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Instead, Zoya entered the room and said, "He's here for me."

Mal had the decency to flush and offer a sheepish shrug. "I'm gonna grab some water," he said, and scuttled off to the kitchen. Of course, Mal had been here plenty of times before. He knew where everything was.

Alina had barely heard him though, Zoya's words repeating on a loop in her head. He's here for me. She knew what this meant, even as her mind tried to deny it. The room was spinning and she couldn't quite steady herself, like something had broken inside of her.

She swallowed, and as calmly as possible, said, "What happened to the heads up rule?"

Zoya arched a brow. "I texted you two hours ago."

Alina frowned and pulled out her phone. Sure enough, there was a text from Zoya. Got a guy coming over in a couple hours. She must have missed it, lost in her studies. But still, something in the text ignited anger in her chest.

"You could have said the guy was Mal."

Zoya shrugged, so frustratingly nonchalant. "What does it matter?"

It matters because I am so hopelessly in love with him, and you're supposed to be my friend, and now I have to blast music so I don't hear the sounds of you two fucking, she thought.

"He's my best friend," she said. "It's just a little weird, I guess."

"Don't worry, Starkov," Zoya said, turning toward the kitchen, probably to grab Mal so they could get the night started. "It won't affect anything between you two."

Alina waited until the two of them were tucked away in Zoya's room. Then she pulled on her old running shoes and slipped out — there was just no way she could be here, knowing what was happening in the room across from her own.

She ran with no destination in mind, pumping her little legs as hard as they could go, music pounding from her headphones. When she became too tired to go further, she checked her surroundings and sighed. Of course, her feet took her to one of her favorite places in the city.

It's not anything, really. A quiet street with an old abandoned building at the end of it. But on the building's brick wall is one of her favorite pieces of art. A mural of the sun, complex in its simplicity, using colors she had never seen used to express the sun before, yet perfectly capturing the feeling of a warm sunny day.

Alina leaned against the wall, slid down until she was sitting on the old, cracked sidewalk. Only then did she realize that she was crying. Turning off her music, she called Genya, and told her everything.

"You have to talk to Zoya," Genya said.

"No!" she said quickly. "I don't want her to feel bad. It's not her fault. And if Mal likes her — well, it's not like he's shown any interest in me. I'm not going to get in their way."

"Alina," Genya sighed.

"It's fine," she promised. "I just—" A sob escaped her throat, the pain overshadowing any coherent thought. It was not fine.

"Send me your location," Genya said, and Alina did.

She spent the night at Genya and David's that night, David promising he was more than okay with taking the couch so her and Genya could have the bed. Which was needed, because Alina had a lot more crying to do.

"Just don't tell Zoya," she said.

"Alina, I don't know."

"Promise, Genya. Please."

Finally, Genya sighed. "All right."

That was four months ago. Zoya had told her it wouldn't affect her close bond with Mal, but it had. Alina never invites Mal over anymore, too afraid that he'll come to watch a movie, sit on the couch beside her — much closer than most friends sit. They would point out everything terrible about it, because they loved to watch bad films together as they stuffed their faces with popcorn. Then the movie would end and Mal would say goodnight, but instead of leaving, he'd go to Zoya's room, and the popcorn they ate would sour in her stomach.

There were so many little changes, too. Like when they hung out as a group, and suddenly Alina was questioning every move she made around him. Was it still okay to playfully ruffle his hair, to sit close enough that their shoulders pressed together, to look at him like he personally hung the sun and the moon in the sky, all while Zoya was there to see? Was it wrong to look at his lips and fantasize about how they would feel against her own, pressed to her collarbone, sucking her most sensitive spots? Zoya and Mal were a casual thing, they had both said so. But still, the natural intimacy her friendship with Mal had built for the past two years suddenly felt wrong, and she hated it.

Needless to say, Alina has been looking into new rooming possibilities for next year. She can't do this anymore. Every time Mal comes over, she waits for them to lock themselves away in Zoya's room, and then she leaves. She runs to her sun, sometimes just sitting and letting her sad song playlist make her sadder, sometimes bringing her sketchbook to at least make art out of the pain.

But tonight she has a very rare opportunity — the apartment to herself. Only for a couple hours, but still. She has spent most of the time so far blaring music, and her neighbors probably hate her, but damn it, they can deal with it for a night.

She lets the music play as she takes a much needed shower. Sure, she could have gone the bath route, but she doesn't want to waste all her time getting clean. Alina has decided her hours alone should end with a much needed date with her vibrator and an Owen Gray video that she's going to watch without headphones.

Olivia Rodrigo's Brutal is pounding from her speaker, and though Alina's twenty-one, not seventeen, the lyrics hit all the same. She's so into the music, thinking about her life for the past four months, thinking about moving as soon as she possibly can, thinking yeah, it really is fucking brutal out here, that she does not notice the telltale signs of someone entering her apartment, and even more worrisome, someone entering the bathroom. Not until it's too late.

"Thought you were too cool for Olivia Rodrigo," a very male voice says, and then the shower curtain opens.

Screams fill the air from both of them. Alina's already holding her conditioner bottle, and on instinct, hurls it at the man's chest while her other hand reaches for her razor.

"Oi!"

Only then does her mind register that it's not a strange man come to sexually assault her, it's Mal. Her best friend. Her roommate's casual lover slash fuck buddy slash whatever. It's Mal, completely naked before her. She gets a quick glimpse of his cock, half-hard, before he curses and turns around.

It doesn't help that his backside is just as nice to look at. He's well toned, muscles flexing as he reaches to grab the clothes he must have just discarded. He bends, giving her the most sinful view of his ass, and Saints, her mind goes wild. She pictures him turning back around and pushing her against the wall, slamming inside of her. As he fucks her, she would reach around and grab that delicious ass of his, dig her fingers into the plump skin, and leave little half-moon indents.

Mal is apologizing over and over again — "I thought you were Zoya!" — as he gathers up his clothes and makes a beeline for the door. Alina finally snaps out of her filthy fantasy and slides the shower curtain closed with a shaky hand. She leans back against the tiled wall, breathing hard. Her heart is pounding like never before.

The song is winding down. Olivia is crooning, God I don't even know where to start.

Neither does Alina.

By the time she musters the courage to finish her shower and leave the bathroom, her robe clutched tightly around her, there’s no sign of Mal in the apartment. Zoya isn’t back yet, either.

With a sigh of relief, she flops onto her bed. Her previous plans were out the window now. Taking a breath, she goes over the facts in her head.

One: Mal has now seen her completely naked.

Two: she has now seen Mal completely naked.

It was the wrong thing to think about, because now she’s picturing the smooth expanse of his skin, his perfectly tight ass, and the quick glimpse she had gotten of his—

Heat pools between her thighs. She’s positively aching, when she should be feeling horrified. She should absolutely not be reaching for her vibrator as she lets the images of Mal’s naked body settle in her mind. It’s wrong, because Mal is, at least somewhat, Zoya’s, and Zoya is her friend. Besides, it was Zoya that he had come looking for, Zoya that he wanted to fuck against the shower wall.

But Alina does grab her vibrator, and as it buzzes her to multiple releases, she imagines Mal shoving her against the wall, pressing kisses to her neck, fucking her like it’s his sole reason for existing. Fucking her like she’s his, and he’s hers.

She doesn’t see Zoya until the next morning, passing out sometime after orgasm number three. Saints, if the memory of Mal’s bare skin had been enough to keep her going for three rounds, she wasn’t sure she could even handle actually being with him.

When she walks into the kitchen, Zoya is sitting at their tiny excuse for a table. “Good morning,” Alina says as naturally as possible.

Zoya only says, “Sit down, Starkov.”

It’s unnerving, how quickly can could take over her entire body. Saying nothing, still going for casual, Alina sits across from her. “What’s up?”

“That’s my question, actually.” Zoya arches a brow. “What happened with you and Mal last night?”

Shit, shit, shit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do. I know he stopped by before I got home. When I asked why he left, he got all weird and said something came up with Dubrov. But I know that’s a lie, because Dubrov was happily posting drunken stories last night. So obviously something happened when he was over.” Zoya sits back in her chair and stares her down, making her insides twist. “And since I don’t live with him, the only person I have to grill is you. So get talking.”

Alina sighs, knowing she isn’t strong enough to deny Zoya when she’s like this, and babbles out the story. Really, it wasn’t her fault. Mal was the one that walked in on her. It was just incredibly embarrassing for both of them.

When she finishes, Zoya lets the information sink in, and then she laughs, harder than Alina has ever seen her laugh.

“Well I’m so glad this is funny to you,” she huffs, arms crossed over her chest.

“It is! I can only imagine your faces, shit.” Zoya wipes at her eyes. “Too bad you already know each other, that would make for one hell of a meet cute.” She pauses and says, “Well, it still could be your origin.”

Alina frowns. “Our origin?”

“You know, if you guys dated.”

She momentarily loses her breath. “What? No, you guys are a thing.”

Zoya rolls her eyes. “We’re fucking, Alina, that’s it. And actually, I was planning on cutting it off after last night.” She stands and pours herself what is at least her second up of coffee. “There’s someone else I’m interested in.”

“Someone else? Who?” Zoya says nothing. Alina pops up as it comes to her. “Oh! It’s that rich blond guy from the bar, isn’t it? The one that transferred here this semester. Nikolai or something, right?”

The tiniest blush spreads on Zoya’s face, and Alina squeals. “It is him! Saints, he’s attractive.”

“Yes, he is,” Zoya snaps. “And not bad for conversation, either.”

“Conversation?” She grins. “Why, Miss Nazyalensky, do you actually have feelings for this guy?”

Zoya scowls. “Shut it, Starkov.”

“Oh, you totally have feelings for him!”

“Keep it up and you will pay for this. I’m devising a plan as we speak.”

Alina just laughs. “Okay, Mrs. Whatever Nikolai’s Last Name Is.”

Under her breath, Zoya mutters, “Lantsov,” and stalks off with her coffee as Alina laughs harder.

Zoya, apparently, hadn’t been kidding when she said she was devising a plan.

When the weekend rolls around once again and Zoya texts the group chat they have with Genya about getting lunch, Alina jumps at the idea. She missed Genya, and it had been a hell of a week between juggling exams and thinking about her encounter with Mal. They haven’t spoken at all, and she had used her classes as an excuse to get out of any hang outs where he might show up.

Zoya’s words from the morning after had been on her mind a lot, too. It still could be your origin. Could it? Was Mal even interested in her — and would he even want to try, after he’d had something with Zoya, or would it just be inevitably awkward?

Alina approaches the restaurant and sucks in a breath. She’s decided to finally tell Zoya about how she’s had feelings for Mal all this time, and maybe with her and Genya, the three of them can come up with what the hell Alina should do next.

Zoya had texted five minutes ago saying she grabbed them a table in the restaurant’s outdoor patio, so she makes her way there. Only it’s not Zoya or even Genya waiting for her.

It’s Mal.

He looks just as surprised to see her as she is to see him, and for a moment, she believes it really is some crazy coincidence.

“Alina,” he says, standing. Neither of them can quite meet the other’s eye. “What are you doing here?”

Her hand is doing some nervous twitchy thing at her side, so she shoves it into the pocket of her dress. “I’m supposed to be meeting Zoya and Genya.”

Mal curses under his breath. “I’m supposed to be meeting Zoya, too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Shaking her head and feeling incredibly stupid, Alina takes out her phone and fires off a text to Zoya, WHAT THE HELL????

The next message she receives comes from Zoya — only not in the text chat between the two of them, but rather a newly created group chat with the two of them and Mal.

consider this the official end to our fuck-mance, oretsev. yalls little bathroom flash show was the perfect opportunity for a new beginning, because yes, i see the doe eyes you give alina when she’s not looking. you too, starkov. i’m sorry for getting in the way for so long. have a good date, no throwing bottles at each other xoxo

They finish reading at the same time, looking up from their phones, eyes meeting before flickering away again.

Mal sighs. “I think I hate her.”

“I think I hate her, too.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Alina bites her lip. Because he doesn’t want to do this, she thinks. “Oh, well, I guess—”

Mal cuts her off. “But it might be a nice chance for us to talk.” Her head snaps up, and this time when their eyes meet, neither of them look away. He smiles shyly. “I missed you this week, Lina.”

Her smile matches his. “I missed you, too.”

They sit, and after the waiter takes their order for drinks and an appetizer for them to share — a sample platter, both of them too indecisive for any singular thing — Mal starts to stutter out an apology. Alina stops him with a hand on his arm. He looks down at where her fingers brush against bare skin, and she wonders if he’s thinking about all the skin they’ve bared to each other now. She certainly is.

“You don’t need to apologize, Mal,” she promises. “It was an accident.”

He shakes his head. “Still, I can’t imagine how terrifying that was for you.”

“Well, it was,” she admits, then adds, “at first.”

“At first?”

She shrugs, but says nothing, thankful for their drinks arriving to save her from answering. Because the truth was she had been scared for maybe three seconds. Once she had realized it was Mal, she’d only felt desire.

With their awkward shower encounter out of the way, they fall into fairly easy conversation, complaining about exams and projects, annoying classmates and neighbors. Soon enough, they’re back to being themselves. Alina pulls out her phone to show Mal all the memes and TikToks she had wanted to send him this week, and he does the same. Hours fly by without their notice, and now the dinner crowd is filing in.

“Oi, I think our waiter is silently praying for us to leave.”

She laughs, pulling out her wallet. “Definitely.”

Mal waves her off. “Let me get it,” he says, taking his own wallet out. “I mean, since this is apparently a date and all.”

Alina hesitates, a little flutter in her chest even though he’d said it teasingly. “Okay, fine. But I’ll get the tip.”

“Deal.”

When everything is paid for, they stand. Going home is the last thing she wants right now, and not just because Zoya will be there.

Mal looks ready to pull her into one of their standard hugs, but pauses. “Do you want to come over? We can find something shitty to watch. Mikhael and Dubrov will be around, but I just really don’t want to see Zoya right now.”

Alina smiles, the flutter in her chest returning with vigor. “Yeah, okay.”

At Mal’s flat, they settle onto the sofa together, close enough that their shoulders brush. Mikhael and Dubrov tease them about looking like lovebirds, but otherwise surprisingly leave them be. She doesn’t mind their company — but admittedly, she was glad they stayed to their respective rooms tonight. Mal puts on an indie horror flick that’s so bad it’s good, and they laugh and joke with each other throughout, per usual.

About halfway through the film, they share a knowingly look — their that foreshadowing is so obvious, RIP to that character in twenty minutes look — and sport matching grins. But when the moment passes, neither of them looks away.

“Alina,” Mal says softly, and her breath hitches. Has he ever said her name with such longing before?

His eyes flicker down — to her lips. She thinks of Zoya’s text then, basically calling both of them out for having feelings for each other. And while neither of them had confirmed it, they hadn’t denied it either.

Her heart is beating so fast. She gives him the tiniest nod.

Mal understands, he always does, and then he’s leaning in. Their noses brush before their lips do, and it could be silly or awkward, but instead it’s a different kind of intimacy she hadn’t known she wanted.

“Alina,” he breathes once more, and then he kisses her, so softly at first, it’s barely anything. Her stomach is doing cartwheels regardless. She takes initiative, kissing him back. Still soft, still careful, afraid that whatever this is between them is something fragile, something that needs delicacy. In some ways, it is. Her closest friendship, blossoming into something more.

Mal lets out the softest moan, and it snaps something between them.

He pulls her closer, his hand on the back of her neck, and now Alina is the one moaning, fervor replacing the softness, the delicacy. It’s the kind of kiss she’s been fantasizing about, made even better from how obvious it is that they’ve both wanted this for a long time. A desperate kiss bursting with desire.

Alina shifts closer until she’s practically straddling his lap. Mal brings one hand to rest on her lower back, the other curling into her hair. His lips move to her neck, trailing down until he reaches her collarbone, where he nips and sucks, undoubtedly leaving a mark.

“Mal,” she sighs, her head tipped back from the feeling as her hips roll against his. He curses against her skin. Her hands move to the hem of his shirt, ready to pull it off.

All of a sudden, Mal pulls away, stopping her hands with his own. “Alina, don’t.”

She blinks her eyes open. “Do you want to move to your room?”

Mal bites his lip and shakes his head.

Alina frowns, any warmth in her chest turning cold. She quickly returns to her own side of the couch. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted this.” Wanted me, she thinks but doesn’t say. Because he certainly had no issues with Zoya.

“I do!” he says quickly, taking her hand again and trying to pull her back. She holds her ground, pulls her hand out of his. “I do want this, Alina. Saints, I do. But this is technically our first date, right? I don’t want to do first date sex, not with you.”

Alina rolls her eyes, looking down and tugging at a loose thread on her dress. “Is this where you say something you think sounds respectful but really just puts down all the girls you have had first date sex with?”

“Alina, please look at me.”

Grudgingly, she does.

“You’re different because you’re my best friend, and because I’ve been hooking up with our mutual friend.” She flinches, but Mal continues. “I don’t want you to think we have to have sex because of that. What I had with Zoya — it was good, and I care about Zoya, but it didn’t go beyond the physical. That’s all we wanted from each other. But that’s not all I want with you.”

Mal closes his eyes. Alina’s unconsciously holding her breath. He exhales and opens his eyes again, holding her gaze. “I want everything with you, Alina. I want your highs and your lows. I want to take you against the wall as much as I want to hold your hand.” He does so now, both of his hands around one of hers, and this time she doesn’t pull away. “And if you didn’t want to be physical? I’d still want you. I don’t want you to think there’s anything we have to do. That’s why I want to wait — even if I also want to take you to my room and pin you against my bed, too.”

“Oh,” she says, barely audible. Alina shakes her head, a little speechless. “I don’t know what to say.”

The corner of his mouth tugs up. “Was that too rom-com confessional?”

The tension breaks. She laughs and climbs onto his lap again, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re such a dork, but you’re the perfect dork. So we’ll wait.” She pauses and looks up at him with innocent eyes. “But will you kiss me again?”

Mal grins, pushes her down against the couch, and does just that.

When she gets home, Zoya is waiting in the living room, reading a smutty romance book Genya had recommended. “Hey, how’d it go?” she asks, too casually to actually be casual.

Alina ignores her and walks straight to her room. She’s decided to let Zoya sweat it out a bit for the weekend after her little stunt, even if it was successful.

Though really, she didn’t think it would bother Zoya that much. Hard as steel Zoya, who never let anything get to her. But on Sunday, she bursts into Alina’s room, interrupting her studying.

“Okay, I know you hate me now or whatever, but at least let me tell you that I’m sorry. I didn’t know how much you liked him, Alina. Not until Genya told me.”

Alina closes her book, frowning. “Genya told you?”

Zoya nods and sits at the end of her bed. “Recently, when I told her about Nikolai and that I was thinking about cutting things off with Mal. Don’t be mad at her, just be mad at me.”

“Well—” she starts, but Zoya cuts her off.

“And honestly? The worst part is, part of me did know. I saw the looks you gave each other, but I brushed them off because I was selfish and enjoying myself. I was a really, really shit friend to you, and I’m so sorry, Alina. You don’t have to forgive me, but I just—

Zoya stops mid-sentence, cut off by the laughter bubbling out of Alina.

“Saints, I never thought I’d see the day that Zoya Nazyalensky grovels.” She shoots her a grin. “I accept your apology. And as much as I want to hate you for your meddling stunt, it worked, because we definitely spent the night making out. I just did the whole silent treatment to make you suffer a little.”

A moment passes — Zoya is completely still, too still — and then she grabs one of Alina’s pillows and smacks her with it. “You little rat!”

Alina only laughs harder, fighting off Zoya’s pillow attack with her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say sorry non-sarcastically! You did so well, Nazyalensky!”

“And you’ll never hear it again! You’ve lost apology privileges!

Eventually, Alina moves into the living room to study, and Zoya joins her. When their brains need a break, Alina tells her about her date with Mal, and Zoya tells her about her own with Nikolai. If this is their new normal, Alina finds that she really likes it.

The next week is outstandingly better than the previous. She’s back to talking to Mal each day, even more than before. Halfway through the week, he sends her a song with the message, This song made me think of you the first time I heard it, still does every time. It has her heart beating extra fast as she listens on her walk to class, not only because it’s incredibly sweet, but because Mal has played this song for her before, months and months ago, which means he’s felt this way the whole time.

Early Saturday evening, Zoya announces that she’s spending the night at Nikolai’s. “He has his own apartment, so it just makes sense. I’ll be home in the morning, probably.”

Thank the Saints for rich boys.

She texts Mal, and Zoya’s barely gone for ten minutes before he’s there. They make dinner together — well, Alina sits on the counter while Mal does the actual cooking, but he spends any down time kissing her, so she likes to think she was the moral support. They eat on the couch, watching their favorite trashy reality television, and play a few rounds of Mario Kart afterwards. Really, it’s just like how things were when they were simply best friends, except now Alina drapes her body over his as they watch their show, Mal’s thumb moving in slow circles on her ankle, and instead of talking or playing on their phones during ad breaks, they pick up where they left off in the kitchen, their lips pressed together in a blissful ease.

They’re on their fifth game of Mario Kart, Alina in the lead, as she has been every round. She’s bragging about how she’s going to beat him again when suddenly her vision is blocked as Mal presses his lips to hers.

Her surprise doesn’t stop her from dropping her controller and kissing back. She’s just getting into the kiss when Mal pulls away as quickly as he had started the kiss. He stands, and only then does she see he never dropped his controller. Picking up right where he left off, he steers Luigi towards the finish line. (“Who the hell picks Luigi?” Alina had asked him once. To which Mal responded, “It’s not fair people only care about his brother when he probably works just as hard at their plumbing business. It’s just like people only knowing Adam Levine and ignoring the rest of Maroon 5—” which led to a very cute rant that Alina spent less time listening to and more time staring at his lips while he was distracted.)

Alina fumbles for her controller, but it’s too late. Mal hasn’t come in first — some of the computers still beat him. But he’s beat her, which by the smirk on his face, was his only goal.

“You’re such a cheater!”

“It’s not cheating, it’s strategy.”

“I suppose you need your strategy, since you don’t have any skills.”

Mal raises a brow, a devious look in his eyes. “Is that so? Perhaps I should show you my skills, then.” He moves in front of her and kneels on the couch, a leg on either side of her body, essentially pinning her there, and kisses her again.

Immediately, she can feel the difference from the strategy kiss and even the ones from earlier that night. He’s kissing with purpose, cradling her face with one hand, the other on her waist, and Alina is melting against him. She is putty in Mal’s hands, his to mold how he pleases.

He’s holding himself so that his weight isn’t pressing down on her, but that’s exactly what she wants. Her hips buck up against his, and Mal pulls back to moan, “Fuck, Alina,” so she does it again.

“Please tell me we can have second date sex.”

Mal chuckles. “Are we even going to bother with the dating process?”

“I don’t know, are we?”

“I don’t know. Do I need to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

Alina grins. “I wouldn’t mind hearing it.

“All right. Alina, my beauty, my beloved, will you bless me with the honor of calling you my girlfriend?”

Her grin widens, and giddy butterflies dance inside her chest. No, not butterflies — fireflies. She can feel their warmth and wouldn’t be surprised if she was glowing from their light. “Oh, I suppose.”

Mal laughs. “I can’t stand you,” he says, and kisses her again.

Alina returns the kiss for a moment before murmuring against his lips, “You don’t have to stand me, but now that you’re my boyfriend, can you fuck me?”

He practically growls as he says, “Saints, yes,” standing and lifting her with him. Mal brings them to her room, kissing her the whole way. He unceremoniously shoves her school books off of her bed, laying her down and crawling over her. “You don’t know how often I’ve imagined this,” he murmurs, lips on her throat.

“Tell me,” she gasps.

“Every time I came over, Alina. Every time.”

A shiver runs down her spine. “Even when you were here to—”

“Especially then.”

She has no idea what to do with this information. Her head is empty of thought save for the screaming need for more of him, so she pulls his shirt over his head. This time, Mal doesn’t stop her. Her hands roam over all the places she’s been dying to touch; down his back, tracing along his spine, up over his stomach, fingers running along the muscles of his chest, brushing over a few scars he’s accumulated through the years.

“You’re so perfect,” she whispers. Smooth in some places, rougher in others, but so incredibly warm everywhere.

Mal tips her chin up, kisses her lips once, hard, and then another to her jaw, down her neck, her collarbone. Then he’s the one tossing her shirt aside, his lips continuing their decent. He’s pressing soft words into her skin as he kisses her — beauty, beloved, cherished, my heart —murmuring his love for her even as he brings her nipple between his teeth.

“Shit, Mal,” Alina breathes. Her hips keep bucking, far beyond her control. He chuckles, murmurs something along the lines of no patience, and quickens his pace. Soon enough, he’s got her undressed completely — which isn’t too unnerving after the shower incident. Any lingering nerves flee once his head is between her thighs. She’s suddenly very thankful Zoya isn’t home, because even though it’s never been a problem during sex before, she absolutely cannot control the noises she’s making — and she’s loud.

Mal returns to her with glistening lips. She kisses him and tastes herself, a thrill better than any rollercoaster. Her hands move to the waistband of his pants, giving a half-hearted tug. “Off.”

“So lazy,” he teases, unclasping the button on his jeans, tugging down the zipper. “I could always make you work for it.”

“Have mercy on me, Oretsev. I’m still recovering from the pleasures of your cocky mouth.”

He looks so proud of himself, she wants to kiss him just to wipe the smirk off of his face. “If you enjoyed my cocky mouth, just wait until you feel my—

“Do not finish that sentence.”

But then he’s pushing down his boxers, and all Alina can do is stare as the cock in question springs free. He’s fully hard this time around, and her thighs squeeze together at the sight. He watches her as she practically drools over his dick, his smirk becoming even, well, smirkier. She reaches out and curls her fingers around his length, giving him two quick strokes — both to clear the smirk from his face and because she so very much wants to touch him.

“Fuck, Alina,” he hisses. He’s reaching for his jeans, probably to grab a condom from his pocket, but she grabs his hand.

“I’m on the pill, and I’ve been tested recently.” Of course, there’s still a slight risk. But it’s Mal — finally Mal — and she wants to feel every inch of him.

He pauses, then nods. “Okay.” Crawling over her, he takes one of her hands and intertwines their fingers. With his other hand, he grips his cock and drags the tip through her folds like the damn tease he is, eliciting needy mewling from her that he seems to enjoy. In her ear, he murmurs, “How do you want this, Alina?”

“I don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow.”

Mal chuckles softly, but the sound so close to her ear sends more shivers down her spine. “As you wish, moya solnishka.” My little sun.

She has only a brief moment to bask in the sweetness of his words before he’s slamming into her all in one go, anything sweet flying out the window. Mal keeps a steady rhythm while sucking on her neck, which is good, because all Alina can do is moan incoherently as her nails leave scratches down his back.

When he senses her getting close, Mal brings his finger to her clit, circling just right. “Saints!” she cries, and comes undone beneath him once again. But this time, she gets to watch him fall over the edge with her, his eyes so incredibly dark as he moans his release. He’s the only man she’s ever let come inside of her, and it feels very right that it’s Mal — she doesn’t want anyone else filling her like this, marking her in a sense as his spend drips down her thighs.

They stay like that for a while, foreheads pressed together, sweaty and sticky, but blissfully so.

“So, is the sex still good on this side of the apartment?”

In answer, he dips his head and bites down on one of her tits.

“Shit, Malyen!”

“Ridiculous questions get ridiculous responses,” he teases, then wraps his arms around her, tucking his face into the crook of her shoulder. “You’re all I’ve wanted for two years, Alina, and this still beat my expectations.”

Smiling, she rests her chin against the top of his head. “Good. I would hate to have to start fucking in Zoya’s bed just because you like the airflow better there.”

“Smart ass,” Mal mutters, but he’s smiling. Then he says, "You know, this may not be my first time fucking in this apartment, but I’m still checking off a first tonight — of many, I hope.”

Alina rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m aware this is your first time fucking me in this apartment, dumb ass.”

"That’s not what I meant, rude ass.”

She frowns. “Then what did you mean?”

He squeezes her hip. “It’s my first time spending the night.”

Her heart does a little jump in her chest, and she doesn’t even have it in her to tease that she hasn’t actually asked him to stay yet. But stay he does, though he gets her off a few more times before they pass out for the night — definitely beating her vibrator. One time it’s with his fingers, so incredibly long that she knows all her fantasies will involve the slender digits now. Another is after Alina murmurs about how filthy she is and that she really ought to take a shower.

Mal waits long enough to join her that she starts to worry he hadn’t understood her intent. But then she hears his footsteps, and the shower curtain opens. There’s no bottle throwing this time, though she can’t say the same for the screaming. He steps into the shower, kisses her slowly, sensually, then pushes her back until she shivers from the feeling of cold tile against her bare skin.

“I meant to ask, you do know you have mirrors in here, right?” Mal murmurs huskily into her ear. She’s too disoriented with want to understand until he says, “I saw you staring at my ass last time.”

Then he slams into her, and Alina no longer has to imagine how it feels to be fucked against the shower wall.

#malina #malina fanfic #alina starkov #malyen oretsev #grishaverse fanfic #college au #PHEW THIS TOOK MUCH LONGER THAN EXPECTED #because i wrote much more than expected sksksksk #but this time i think i'm happy with what came out #i will never tire of writing these two idiots in love so i hope yall don't tire of reading me writing these idiots in love teehee #this one is steamy folks!#TY FOR THE PROMPT LINA I HOPE U ENJOY!!!!#writing #mine #ps the song he sends her is in the title teehee #for inquiring minds #also i've only read through this once so sorry in advance for the inevitable typos lmao

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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HEYYYY, I was wondering if you could make a NSFW alphabet for Rockstar!Michael Langdon? I loved Anti-Christ Superstar, and was sad that it didn't get the love it deserved

Thank you so much for this! I miss him lmmaoo so i hope this does him justice!

AO3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) This depends on if you’re just a one-night stand or in a long-term thing. Either way I think he’d help you clean up. If it’s just casual he’d get you to leave after but if it’s long-term he would hold you close and make sure to give u lil kissies.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s) He LOVES his hands on himself. He knows they’re the centre of attention when he’s playing his guitar and he loves what he can use them for when with you. I think he’s a thigh guy when it comes to a partner idk, but I feel it. Don’t get me started on seeing his hands grabbing your thighs lmmaoo. But I also think he loves your eyes. It’s what he looks for in a crowd and in Antichrist Superstar, it’s the only way you can both communicate on stage.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) If it’s casual he won’t cum inside you, he doesn’t want any lawsuits or little hims running around the world. The band does not want to be spending it’s budget on child support. If it’s long-term however, he loves the thought of ‘claiming’ you by cumming inside, and it’s that breeding kink lmmaoo

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Want’s to make a sex-tape so bad lmaoo. Also wants you to peg him. E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) I think he’s fairly experienced. There’s no shortage of people that want to be railed by him and he’s the anti-Christ, it’s sort of a low-key challenge for him to corrupt people with the time of their lives u kno.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying) DOGGY lol he loves it. He also likes to be ridden while he smokes a joint very rockstar aesthetique u kno. But sometimes he wants to get a lil intimate so he likes positions where he can face you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He’s deffo serious but gets goofy after if its long-term.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Very well groomed, he’s got an ego and his looks reflect that.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Again, I think this depends on how serious the relationship is. If it’s casual he’s not going to bother. But if it’s long-term, he can get suuuper romantic and it’s kinda cute.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Doesn’t do it often because he doesn’t have to. There’s always someone available. Once you get into a relationship, I think you both like to relive the adrenaline from the show if ugm lol. In the off chance there’s no one available I think he likes to jack off in the shower, it relaxes him and easy clean-up.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Breeding kink once you become serious. He also likes to leave marks just to let other people know you belong to him. I think he’d like to tie you up occasionally too. Idk if this is a kink but I think he’d like to fuck you while you’re trying to practise your bass.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do) Backstage, tour bus, anywhere semi-public. Will occasionally get a fancy hotel room to destroy.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Just seeing you rock out on stage tbh. You both have so much pent up energy after so naturally sex is a way to solve it. He also gets a lil jealous when you talk to guys from other bands so that’s a motivator too. And I think just being in close quarters when sharing a tour bus tbh. He’s just one horny man.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) I think if it’s long term he wouldn’t like the idea of letting another band member to join. He sort of wants to keep you to himself.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Both, eats pussy like a champ but also loves getting head.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Prefers fast and rough and I think his partners do too. Will occasionally be slow and sensual depending on the circumstance.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Loves quickies and tbh it’s the best you can do on the road.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He’s willing to experiment as long as you both don’t get caught lol.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) If you have the time, he can keep going. But again, if you’re on the road he knows how to pace himself.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) When he’s home from touring then he likes to use toys on you because why not. Like I mentioned before I think he would like to get pegged by you eventually so has the stuff on hand.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) LOVES to tease and make you beg, but you get him back in other ways.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He can be quiet when you need to be, but he will make sure to grunt in your ear and its kinda hot. But if you’re not somewhere public he’ll be loud as fuck and expects you to do the same.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Grew his hair out just because he likes it when you tug on it lol.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) You know he’s big and thick and proud of it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) I don’t think it’d be that high when he’s not in a long-term relationship. Once he’s serious however, well, RIP that pussy ayyy.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) If it’s casual, hell conk out after kicking the person out. Long-term, likes a little bit of pillow talk and stuff before you both drift off.

#my writing #prompts #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader

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blazedgraysons · 4 years

Text

Killing Me Softly

The one where Grayson falls in love in under 12 hours

A/N: Here’s another fic inspired by literally nothing. I am pretty proud of this one though. To all the people who said nice things about Drunk Off You, just know that I read every single one of them and you own my heart and soul. Also, I know literally no one knows who I am but feel free to send asks or messages. I pinky promise to respond. ♡

Word Count: 1.7K

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x OC (Harlow)

Warnings: nothing really, it’s pretty tame minus a lil angst towards the end.

“Are you B29?”

Harlow removes an earbud, looking up to meet big brown eyes staring back at her. It’s hard not to notice the rest of the man standing in the aisle.

Brown hair flops over his forehead as she moves her eyes down to appreciate the soft scuff lining his chin - not quite a beard, but not quite stubble. He’s dressed casually in a gym shirt that outlines every single bulging muscle paired with grey sweatpants and some Louis Vuitton slides. She nods slightly to his question, hoping the adonis of a man doesn’t notice that slight blush that’s appeared on her face. He offers her a gracious smile and effortlessly slings his carry-on into the overhead cabin.

“Looks like we’re neighbors then.” Harlow hums in acknowledgment, not sure why he’s so friendly. Most passengers would’ve just grabbed their seat and slept or occupied themselves, but this man intends on making himself known.

He slides into the neighboring seat, and Harlow is instantly overwhelmed. If she thought he looked good from afar, up close was even better. Here she could appreciate all the minute details — the dark mole on his chin, the expensive cologne, the 333 tattoo behind his ear. It took everything in her not to stare, so instead, she settles for quick glances hoping he would be too occupied by his phone to pay her any attention. If he did notice, he spared Harlow further embarrassment by not saying anything. She turns back to her magazine, a random Vogue issue she picked up in the airport convenience store to pass the time, mentally telling herself to calm down in order to get through the next three hours.

“ I’m Grayson, by the way. Just in case we crash, and you need to identify me.” He jokes, smiling widely and — oh shit, does he have a diamond in his tooth? Harlow is so screwed.

—-

Grayson’s never been a big believer in fate until now. The idea of some external force dictating a situation in your life just seemed like bullshit. Yet, Grayson couldn’t describe meeting Harlow as anything else.

He had been irritated all the way up to that point. An overbooked plane forced him off his original flight and away from his twin brother. Ethan had offered to go with him, but Grayson didn’t see a point in delaying their trip even further and told him he’d meet him in Jersey. While the airline was over apologetic and gave him (terrible) perks, in order to make the next flight, he had to sacrifice his first-class seat for an economy red-eye flight. But at least he had a shitty hot towel to make up for it.

He scowled all the way through the check-in and tarmac, vowing to never fly with JetBlue again as he passed the first-class seats that he couldn’t help but stubbornly think, ‘That should be mine.’

It wasn’t until he reached his row that he realized what he thought was a hindrance was actually a blessing. Because there sitting in the seat next to him was a beauty that could only be described as ethereal. Her long, dark hair tumbles in tight coils down her shoulders as she sits crossed-leg, hunched over a magazine, biting her lip in furrowed concentration. She bobs her head slightly to whatever song she’s listening to as she quickly flips through the pages. She tucks her hair behind her shoulder, revealing blemished copper skin that reflects the light.

A small voice in his head (that suspiciously sounds like Ethan) tells him to stop being weird and talk to her. Before he can justify themillion reasons why he shouldn’t, an annoying cough comes from the lady behind him.

He turns around to glare at her a little and asks the mystery girl her seat number with a smile that he hopes comes off as charming and not predatory.

And fuck, he knows she has to be a blessing because she looks like she was sent straight from the gates of heaven to Grayson’s heart. Ironically, the plane’s fluorescent lights form a halo around her head (‘Or maybe you’re finally losing it.’ Ethan's voice tells him.) He blinks, once, twice, three times before realizing that the girl in front of him isn’t a sleep-deprived hallucination and is actually real. He tries to act unaffected by the slow once-over her round, onyx eyes give him. Still, when he notices her eyes lingering on his chest and thighs, he swallows hard before throwing his suitcase into the overhead and sitting down.

The grumpy lady behind him gives him a look as she moves down the aisle, and he whips out his phone for a welcomed distraction. The girl, unaware of the havoc she was wreaking on Grayson’s mind and body, continues to sneak looks at him that were a little too obvious for Grayson to not notice. He debates whether or not to ask for her name until she turns back to her magazine and Grayson figures that she doesn’t want to be bothered anymore. It wasn’t until the voice in his head repeatedly calls him a pussy (‘Shut up, Ethan’ he thinks back) that he introduces himself. And when her plump lips turn up into a smile, Grayson pretends to not notice how screwed he is.

—-

Conversation flows smoothly between the two of them after that. Grayson explains the situation with his original flight and his plans to surprise his mom for mother’s day while Harlow talks about her little brother and the birthday party she helped plan for him this weekend. They talk for so long that their conversation turns from typical discussion to hushed whispers to not disturb the other sleeping passengers. They finally pause for a break when the beverage attendant stops at their row.

Harlow’s honestly glad for the lull in conversation as it gives her time to reflect over what she’s learned. Grayson appears to be very humble despite being heavily involved in the influencer scene in Los Angeles, something Harlow desperately tries to stay far away from herself. Also, despite being one of the hottest guys she’s ever seen, he seems to be so shy that it’s endearing. She notices he stumbles over words, getting so excited about their conversations that he trips himself up.

“So in LA, what do you do for fun? Any friends? Boyfriend?” He asks coolly, trying not to be obvious about his intentions (which makes it so much more apparent in Harlow’s eyes) as he drinks his diet root-beer.

“I work for a high- fashion company doing PR, so I’m always there. I have a couple close friends, but since I’m working so much, I haven’t had that much time for a relationship or finding a guy worth making time for.” Harlow sighs wistfully.

“Ah, that makes sense about the magazine.” He nods, trying to hide his excitement. This situation seems to be working more and more in his favor. “And what guy would be worth making time for?”

“I don’t know honestly. It just seems that all the guys I run into in LA are beyond superficial. All my dates have just been talking about how many followers they have on Instagram or TikTok and just end in hookups. While there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just hard when you want something more, you know?” She shrugs. And as much as Grayson hates to admit it, he does know. Hell, he’s probably been that guy once or twice in his younger years. Still, as he grows older, he craves the same things Harlow does: intimacy, connection, emotion. He takes another swallow of his drink before responding.

“Yeah, I mean hookups and one-night stands are great in the moment, but it’s hard when you just have love you want to give. It’s even harder now that my brother’s dating someone, ya know. Seeing someone you’re close with have what you want; it’s kinda hard not to be jealous.” He shares, hoping she relates and doesn’t think he’s weird for telling so much to someone he met a few hours earlier.

Harlow sits with that for a second before responding, “And what girl would you want to give your love to?” She whispers.

’Someone like you.’ Grayson thinks. But before he could make the bold confession, the plane announces its descent.

——

Grayson realizes almost immediately that he wasn’t paying that much attention to the flight details because the fact that there was a layover in Colorado flew over his head. He lets Harlow pass by him to stand in the aisle and grabs both his and her carry-on to take off the plane. As Grayson stands behind her (and tries not to stare at how incredible her ass looks in her leggings), he does what he’s best at: forming a game-plan. He realizes that a girl like Harlow is too good to let go. So, he figures he could grab a coffee with her, get her number, and plan a date for when they both are back in LA. He smiles, already thinking of the story he’ll get to tell Ethan when he gets to Jersey. As they both slowly move into the terminal, Harlow turns back to Grayson with a bright smile. He smiles back before asking —

“Do you want to get coffee?” He can’t help his heart from swelling as she bites her lip, a habit he notices she does a lot.

“Good, I thought you weren’t going to ask.” She laughs. “Wait here though, I have to run to the restroom.”

He nods, handing Harlow her carry-on. He sits down and pulls out his phone, already texting Ethan that he met his future soulmate.

Five minutes pass: He’s got the future planned out: the wedding, the kids, the farmland in Jersey and the tiny-home in Australia.

Ten minutes pass: He starts to get worried, but figures Harlow can handle herself.

Thirty minutes pass: He considers sending someone to the bathroom to check on her.

Two hours passed: He’s already cased the domestic airline terminal twice, looking for her dark curly hair.

It’s not until the final call of flight 437-A to New Jersey that he understands: Harlow’s not coming back for him. And he can’t help it when his heart splits into two.

#grayson dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan x y/n #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan blurb #dolan twins x reader #dolan twins x y/n #dolan twins fic #dolan twins blurb #grayson dolan oc #grayson dolan x oc #grayson dolan oc fic #grayson dolan oc blurb #blazedwritings

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trulymadlysydney · 4 years

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Yes :( just gently grabbing his hand while everyone’s hanging out watching tv and you lean ur head on his arm just fiddling with his hand and playing with his rings tracing his tattoos making eye contact a few times to make sure he’s not bothered by it and just being all soft rubbing ur cheek on his bicep while relaxing putting your palm to his to see who’s hands bigger and locking fingers again:( can u maybe expand a lil on it cus I’m v sad and need the hazzy comfort if possible :(

PLEASE I dont know what to add to this because its so soft but just the casual intimacy of playing with each others hands :(

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luckycheesefoodie321 · 4 years

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I just reread The Hunger Games for the first time since 2011/2012 and somehow there has been a violent resurgence of my love for movie Katniss and movie Peeta and their every interaction in Catching Fire

EDIT: this got longer than I expected it would

Because really in both book and movie, that is where their relationship is at its peak of genuine affection and blossoming romance no longer tainted by Katniss’s ongoing background calculations on what she needs to do to make sure both her and Peeta survive the games... at least as far as a I remember... again only just reread HG will probably reread CF and see if I’m just talking from movie memories or not...

All I can say is Jennifer and Josh really just pop off in Catching Fire with the chemistry and I found myself looking for all their scenes on YouTube just to bask in the subtlety but also the awesome when both Peeta and Katniss realise Katniss isn’t pretending anymore and more than just mutual trauma creating intimacy and companionship... she’s genuinely in love with him...

when he got zapped and DIED?! And Katniss is just sobbing and full on trembling and that look in Finnick’s eyes when he’s finally convinced there are genuine feelings??? Like “your heart stopped beating “ “it’s ok, it’s working now” and then Peeta holds her as if she’s the one who died and not him?!?

And then their first real kiss on the beach when Katniss says she needs him? Genuine passion from both ends ugh

When Katniss and Finnick are stuck with the jabberjays and Katniss slams into the invisible wall and Peeta is yelling reassurances and trying to calm her down even though he knows it’s useless...and she sinks to the ground screaming and he goes with her and just leans his head against the wall to try and just be with her while she’s in pain... and is probably there for the whole hour waiting until it ends...

Not to mention all the stuff that happens before the games, which I really really love in the books and the movies for HG and CF... it adds all the intrigue and politics and infuses the actual action with layers of mystery and not knowing who to trust and showing that even Victors who plan to kill each other very soon can be united in a brief moment to flip off the government...

I deeply, profoundly, with every ounce of my being adore the CF interview scene... Peeta finally getting a chance to really flex his cunning and charm... like in HG he knew how to be witty and self-deprecating and play off the District 12 kid in the Big City vibe pretty easily but the whole star-crossed lovers bit, while knowing it was a ruse to curry favour from sponsors, was heavily fueled by his genuine feelings and he acted accordingly to what he assumed were similarly genuine actions from Katniss...

In CF tho, he finally gets to use that charm and wit to fuck with the Capitol for putting him and Katniss through hell again and throws down the baby bombshell and his lil smirk to Haymitch in the movie and Haymitch toasting his bid is everything I wanted for the boy with the bread... the clear disgust of Peeta when he gets handed that upchuck drink that lets you keep eating at the presidential party or whatever but his face never wavering as he instead diverts to bringing Katniss over to dance... like props to Josh Hutcherson for conveying the internal screaming of “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE” in that brief but prominent pause before he hands back the drink...

Also Caesar Flickerman was perfectly cast. Stanley Tucci player the perfect MC that knew how to spin any awkward responses and play up his emotions where necessary but when the Victors held hands as if to say “fuck you Capitol assholes for putting us through this again”, and the baby bomb was still holding an effect, knew when to give up on wrangling the crowd and called to cut the transmission completely... and I adore that subtle addition to his character...

And then ignoring all the intrigue and the mystery and the deception and the quiet or obvious rebellions I just love when Peeta and Katniss are alone and have an opportunity to talk...

This is really just turning into me praising the Catching Fire movie which I also haven’t seen in full in a few years... but the scene where Peeta decides to reach out to Katniss and call a truce on the awkward love act and cold shoulder deal they’d had going since the end of the first games... and they just talk and chat and have such a nice rhythm going and talk about their favourite colours... and Katniss wakes up screaming and Peeta runs in all panicked and admits he also has nightmares... and Katniss asks him to stay and he gets it. While he still has feelings and she probably knows it’s pretty selfish to ask, they both need each other... Effie and Haymitch are preoccupied with a million other things so while they’re close, they’re not close enough to get personal with... but these twos literal shared experience is more than enough reason for Peeta to crawl into that bed and hold Katniss, no questions asked... and then they’re casually cuddled up in bed again in the Capitol the night before the Quell????

Y’all. I did not realise I had this much to say about Katniss and Peeta literally I have never been this big of a fan of them ever in my entire experience of the book and films of the Hunger Games series... though majority of this was just me praising the Catching Fire movie... idk what y’all thought about it but these are my feelings... anyway...

#long post #hunger games #never thought id post about that #but this is the time to bring up 2007-2015 fandoms i guess #and this is my two cents to throw in the pile #did this bc im tutoring a family friend who is reading the hunger games in year 11 #wanted to refresh my memory to help her out better #but instead my peenis shipper heart burst out #was that the official ship name???#katniss x peeta #peeta x katniss #peenis #hunger games post #catching fire #suzanne collins #EDIT: its fuckign Everlark bahahahahhahahahaha #everlark #lol peenis #pffffft

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fmstevie · 4 years

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* ╰ waddup y’all ruby’s back 2 annoy u all w a lil british fuckboi action . here’s stevie , inspired by matty healy n thinkin she’s a god among men . i don’t recommend u read on but in case u do i pray u forgive me enough 2 want plots w that like button . 🤡

new york’s very own 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐄 ‘ 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘 ’ 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 was spotted on broadway street in doc marten smooth leather chelsea boots . your resemblance to diana silvers is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty - second birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐬 , but also 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 . i guess being a cancer explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be erudite inclinations informed by a god complex , melodrama as your magnum opus , & the world’s most secretive love life . ( i had a secret marriage that lasted 6 months but ended due to my fear of my family’s mafia ties getting in the way . ) & ( cis female & she / her )

𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 : stephanie charlotte greystone 𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 : primarily stevie , although her stage name is ‘ grey ‘ which has caught on as a go-to nickname . takes little to nothing else wilingly 𝒂𝒈𝒆 : twenty - two 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄 : cancer 𝒐𝒄𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 : professional musician with a voiceclaim of lorde , on temporary hiatus to write grey3 . casual photographer 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒚 / 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒔 : cis female / she her hers 𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 : pansexual w strong female pref but tbh if u can handle her energy she’ll b down WKERWJER 𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 : 5’10 🤤 𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒔 : the hedonist , the aesthete , the opaque , the vainglorious , the prodigy , the intangible concept 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒔 : rhiannon - fleetwood mac / WHAT U CALL THAT - chase atlantic / iceberg - borns / UGH - the 1975 / boss bitch - doja cat / elephant - tame impala / black hole sun - soundgarden / black madonna - cage the elephant / this charming man - the smiths / swim - chase atlantic / 1999 WILDFIRE - brockhampton

tw drug mention

𝒊. 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.

there is perhaps no more a formidable surname in the organized crime circuit in all of europe than greystone , a name risen to fame through countless court cases and highly publicized trials . dubbed ‘ el chapo of the old world , ‘ liam greystone makes his reputation known as a ruthless and conniving leader of a million dollar cartel business , distributing to most of the UK and eastern europe . it’s perhaps an even greater shock to find even as public enemy #1 , he takes a welsh wife by the name of marissa and weds her in a lavish and very public ceremony , surmounting crowds not unlike those of the royal weddings . such a decision is a clear power move on his part , flexing the pure influence it would require to have such a public family life with no fear of repercussion from rivals or enemies .

it’s several months following their wedding that james is born , with nicholas taking a few years after . elite prep schools in the most posh london neighborhoods were abuzz with equal parts curiosity and concern to be sharing streets with the most feared mafia family in their whole country , though the elite nature of liam’s new societal presence meant he took to his ‘ dealings ‘ with a but more subtlety than before his rise to power . something of a media frenzy , it’s the talk of the town when marissa falls pregnant another time , nearly a decade after nicholas’s birth , this time with a baby girl , something that’s all the sun and mirror can seem to post about in their celebrity tabloids section for weeks on end . her birth raises questions of immense speculation : what will the world do with a greystone girl ?

as it would result , they’d worship her . stevie found herself raised in a world that sought her out at every turn , cameras pointed towards her at every outing . james and nick , now teens by the time she enters primary and just as big of terrors as their father , view their lavish lifestyle as the result of some bigger destiny for greatness , as their father had always fed to them , something they passed on to their baby sister who took it as her mantra . one of the earliest manifestations of a rather intense personality , stevie takes this to an extreme , turning her unwanted stardom into a fuel for an ever-increasing god complex to develop . the apple of her father’s eye and every bit as quick , her instructors note a dedication to perfection and an obsession with accomplishment , along with a natural intelligence that leads her to blast through her studies with relative ease .

she’s just 16 when she completes her schooling and already has a reputation that will precede her , just as her surname had before . relaxed and observant , her voice never peaks higher than a low alto with her charming londoner drawl , a facade never cracking from her knowing poker face . there’s something about being so above everyone ( even if it is a self-imposed superiority ) that leads stevie all but to the brink of isolation , finding solace only in the words of a self-deluded father and her own scribings in a leather bound notebook . piano lessons since early childhood lend themselves to melodies following melodies , and before she’s even able to legally drink , she’s released her first album under the moniker ‘ grey ’ titling it pure heroine as a cheeky nod to the inevitable accusations of it being her family ties that got her a record deal . but as streams of the melancholy tunes begin to pick up fans worldwide , the album’s themes of isolation , abandonment , and wasted youth hit harder than ever anticipated from the youngest greystone . she leaves home to tour the world with the album reaching #1 in countless countries , forging her own path with a maturity beyond her years and a vision beyond this world .

the tour ends and she’s smitten by the charm of new york , opting to move to continue to pursue her music away from the tangled complications of family life in england . barely 18 and perhaps intoxicated with the loneliness of a life spent in the watching eye of others , the semblance of privacy is something she takes to like an addict , exasperating prying paparazzi with her notorious refusal to comment on details of her personal life . she builds a wall between herself and the world , keeping out prying eyes with a tight - lipped grin . its at this time that she lets the first person into her life perhaps ever , a whirlwind romance so intoxicating it results in a courthouse marriage done in secret . never to be seen together , never a word spoken to anyone else , stevie relishes in the secret which is soon to sour upon the passing of their honeymoon phase . with her brothers expanding their reach into the US for their unsavory dealings , it’s not long after her marriage begins that the conflicts reach a breaking point , an annulment following barely 6 months after they had traded ‘ i do’s . ’

she takes to the studio with a new resentment of the concept of love and even more sequestered heart , producing melodrama which takes the world by storm , snagging her a grammy win for album of the year . fatigued from the constant go-around of keeping her secrets her own except for when they’re taken to radio streams , she does a limited tour for melodrama and lands herself right back in new york at 20 , putting grey3 on the backburner as she takes to all the hedonistic engagements she had indulged herself in during her time on tour . she’s kept herself busy between mindless flings and days-long benders with hobbies such as photography and writing , the former of which is building her a rather impressive reputation in the arts world .

𝒊𝒊. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 .

if y’all ain’t tired of me yet god bless u . .. . bc i straight up b tired of myself :/

anyways dis is stevie , also accepts grey the same way ppl talk abt lorde n switch between ella n lorde ! she’s not picky :~)

major inspos are matty healy from the 1975 n hayley kiyoko if she was less of a try hard . little bit of kristen stewart in there , big 2016 ruby rose energy n brie larson top me tomfoolery as well !

basically da fuckboi of ur dreams .. .. . lil devilish londoner who stays thinkin she’s the closest thing to a god on this green earth !

notably , she’s incredibly intelligent and profound , tends to take on a rather patronizing and condescending tone bc she straight up b thinkin she’s usually the smartest person in the room ( how annoying )

so laid back n observant , rlly has no need to raise her voice ever bc her arguments b runnin circles around ppl ! imagine the way harry styles talks low n slow n calculated. . . . . cameron from love is blind ,. .. . kristen stewart lowkey sometimes .. .. .. das grey . sexy ass alto monotone 🤤🤤

i dont wanna use chaotic bc she rlly isnt the WILDEST bitch but that god complex means she deadass thinks she can get away w what she wants n she usually does ? less of a chaotic evil n more like a neutral evil lmao she can follow rules just fine she jsut prefers whatever suits her better

on that note — OBSCENELY self obsessed . follows her own natural whims n impulses bc that’s just what appeals to her . is inclined to follow rules if she calculates itll work in her favor bc she also doesn’t like to look sloppy !

super secretive and OBSESSED w her presentation . every movement is calculated n she doesnt want anyone seeing a side of her that she hasn’t designated for them ! she doesn’t care what other ppl think but she DOES care abt what she sees herself doing n her vision . doesnt fit the vision ? will NOT happen in her book .

straight up a WHORRE lmao she likes 2 fill the void left by a lack of human connection w sexual intimacy n then is like nice imma have u leave now love LMAO . does not discriminate and is rlly inclined to follow any sexual impulse

this was implied but her relationships are super messy ? does the leonardo dicaprio thing where she will never fuckin discuss her love life in interviews or anything so ppl just gotta SPECULATE . she lets ppl post all they want abt her but she wont say a WORD abt them JWHEKJWH her socials r basically just abt her n her music we said SELFISH lads . she’s bad @ bein tied down n is ��probs polyamorous as it stands but im p sure she has cheated on every single person she has ever been with lmao

lowkey a shit friend most of the time lMAO she can b really unreliable bc u guys can have plans n then she takes someone home n misses yalls plans n then texts u 4 hours later after all ur missed calls n is like my bad bruv i got tied up AS IF THAT FIXES IT KWEJKWJEKWE

chain smoker n its nastie but lowkey sexy somehow :/ , will ONLY wear outfits that r equal parts thrifted n designer , always has her hands in her pockets n if her jacket has a hood its UP like a big ole homo , is rlly annoying bc shes good looking n KNOWS it so she uses it to her advantage , wants 2 get her motorcycle license , judges u based off the music u play in the car , judges u on everything tbh.

#wealthyhq:intro #* ╰ . 𝒔 . 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒚𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒆 . › introduction .#sorry 4 dis trash hittin the dash 🥰#just COULD NOT wait n format any longer

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thebritishblabbermouth · 6 years

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BTS as boyfriends :)

So basically... One of the posts Id read this morning inspired me to do one of these myself... Just a write up of what I think each of them would be like as a boyfriend... I hope you like it!

Okay scratch that.. This is super long... Idek anymore.. This man is the death of me.

Suga:

1. Quiet... But not shy

He's the type to voice his opinions when he deems necessary and not a moment before, but that doesn't mean he's not confident enough to talk out loud. He won't hesitate from whispering his thoughts on how stellar you look in those soft cotton sleep shorts just as you're drifting to sleep. Nor will he refrain from holding your shoulders firmly and telling you to calm down when you look like you're about to burst into tears from a bad grade or a bad day at work. He talks when required and not a moment after. Ready with reasoning, graphs and statistics against every insecurity, every worry and every aspect of life you're unsure of. But at the same time he'll listen as your paint your toenails while you're sitting on the couch, ingulfed into this frame as you talk about your childhood or about the girls at work and what you thought about that dress at the local shopping mall. He knows when you're talking just for the sake of talking and when you need him to give input and advice.

2. Dates

I picture him to be the kind of person who loves stay-at-home dates. Like the two of you just sit on the window sill and talk... But there are also moments of silence and he's rubbing circles into your wrists while pressing kisses into the back of your head. He knows he's far away from you for far too long and hes trying his best to just feel you with him. Almost stock up on your presence and the particular way you smell in his embrace. I see you pressed onto his front as you talk about the things you see and if things are particularly boring on a rainy day; I see you folding your knees to your chest and placing the laptop on them while wraps his arms around you. You're either watching movies or funny videos on YouTube and he laughs at the way you laugh, mentally notes down the way your head tilts back onto his shoulder and giggles when you let out a few snorts in between.

I also see him as the type to love midnight walks... I think the darkness allows him to be more free and natural and that's why the two of you decide to take strolls late into the night. Its these short, spontaneous dates that has him opening up for a change, just endlessly talking about what he wants from life, where he sees himself, his music and his inspiration, about the little glitch on stage that day and how the members are doing. Its times like these he spills his heart out and you don't say a word... Because he doesn't need advice, he needs support and attention in the most mundane of ways. I see him just holding your hand on these occasions, swinging it between you and smiling as he does... Holding your hand is a way he reminds himself that he's with you. Afterwards, I see him going home and dropping one text that says '' I love you'' and sleeping with phone on his lap because he's so emotionally relaxed now.

But at the same time... I see Yoongi as a crazy lil bean... He's the type to stay up till 4 am and compile a list of all the restaurants that cater to the cuisine you said you liked almost 5 months ago. I see him as the type to remember the tiny tiny things you mentioned in one of your long monologues and take them up when you've forgotten all about them. Yoongi does a lot of reading up on things you like... Be it books or art or history because he feels that way he can relate to the things you talk about.. But you'll never realise he's working that hard cause he's so damn subtle about it? Randomly giving Shakespeare references in the middle of your conversation because you might have mentioned your deep love for hamlet.

3. Fights

Tbh...they will happen. Can't be ignored. Everyone fights once in a while. He doesn't strike me as the type to grovel on his knees if he thinks he's at fault, he's the type to crawl into bed and whisper apologies into your ear assuming you're asleep. Worst comes to worst he's casually slipping in a small bouquet of flowers into your hands when you answer the door... Probably not even looking at you when he does. Not because he has an ego issue and thinks he's apologising for no reason, but because he thinks he caused all of this mess and wonders why you're still stuck with him. However those insecurities aren't spoken about because he isn't brave when it comes to his feelings.

I don't see angry make up sex, I see long drawn out sessions of love because he thinks '' why would I make her mad and make her cry... I need to make this up to her...''

On the other hand... When you make him mad... I see him just wanting space initially and then maybe you can go up to him with a peace offering of food and slip in a few sorrys. He's a lil fluff ball, will 13/10 melt at your attempt.

4. Intimacy

Ridiculously long and drawn out. He takes his time with everything and you're in for a hell of a ride. Will 300% have you almost passing out before he thinks about actually having sex with you. What is a quickie? Pretty vanilla on locations I think... Loves how homely the bedroom feels? But you've definitely shared intimacy in his studio. Its his special place and you being there with him makes it even more special.

You're so tired after everything that you sleep immediately but this situation is the one time he avoids falling asleep... Because he loves watching you. He loves looking at you and how you're so natural and beautiful and perfect just for him... Pride that he has you, that you chose him to be the one who gets to see you at your most vulnerable. He'll take his time studying you and then pull you up onto him and drift off to sleep. But because he spent so much time analysing last night... You wake up first and end up looking at him for a good hour... So happy that he's yours. Its a beautiful cycle of staring really... And you love it because it leads to spending the whole day bed... Making love and staring at each other with big mushy heart eyes.

I think he is a dom when the situation demands it... Like when you're being unnecessarily cranky or paranoid, the control and power help you to come out of your little cave... But he's also pretty vanilla and ready to let you think you have the lead once in a while.

5. Gorgeous human being- 10000/1

Absolutely beautiful... Supports you through everything and doesn't say a word with regards to your life decisions because he knows you're smart enough and brave enough to have the world at your disposal if need be.

I think the two of you spend a lot of time in his studio and you draw a lot of energy and inspiration from each other. You'll be the only one he gives his studio passcode too and thats his way of showing how much you mean to him. I see him putting up a little coffee table on there so you can bring in your work. He'll give you sound cancelling earphones and you can be bent over the desk writing as he finishes up with his work. Sometimes you just sleep on the sofa that he's got there and he'll either tuck you into his arms and sleep with you or pick you up and take up into the bedroom. He loves how adorable you look with giant headphones on and sneakily takes a few photos- you'll probably never even know they exist.

I see you bringing him coffee into the studio... One giant mug and he pulls you onto his lap and you sit there- reading your book while he works..the two of you sipping the drink occasionally. You fall asleep on his lap and he keeps you snuggled into him because your heartbeat warms him up.

Loves it when you try to rap and when you sing as you're cleaning the kitchen or cooking or painting... Sees you as a fluff ball and fights to protect. He teaches you a lot unknowingly.

Such a gorgeous human being.

To read Jungkook’s Version, click here :)

To read Jimin’s Version, click here :)

#romance #bts #love #kpop #cute #happy #yoongi #bts suga #suga #sugar dating #min suga #boyfriendsuga #boyfriend yoongi #smutty

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