#feel free to ignore but tonight was apparently a rant night | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haos-the-tea · 3 years

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Title: Better Than You Pairing: Mingyu x Fem!Reader x Wonwoo Rating: 18+ Warnings: Language, angst, low self image, sub boy, oral (male and female receiving), Face riding, Sexual praise, Degradation, Choking (male receiving), Over stimulation (male receiving), Voyeurism, Pegging, Edging, Light bondage. WC: 9.3K+

A/N: so this started out as just a means to write hate smut for Mingyu and then evolved into this. IDK how that happened. I also didn’t bother to edit this, so enjoy this first draft nonsense lol.

You didn’t hate your job. You really didn’t. Or, at least that was what you kept telling yourself so that you could get through this hell of a shift. Saturdays were always the absolute worst, the restaurant was crowded and it was always so loud, and orders came out almost as soon as you picked up the previous ones. It was hectic, but it was even worse when you were understaffed.

“Thank you so much, that order will be out in just a few minutes.” You said, fake smile plastered onto your face as you bid farewell to a table that wasn’t a part of your section. Stalking through the restaurant your smile dropping as you did so, you found the cause of your troubles standing in the kitchen, chatting it up with one of the chefs while the chef worked.

“Kim Mingyu!” You exclaimed, using the noise of the kitchen to cover your shout. He turned to face you and you could see his eyes rolling when he realized just who was calling him.

It was an unspoken fact that you and Mingyu...did not get along. You boss generally made sure to try and schedule the two of you on different days, but that was getting harder and harder

when people kept asking for days off. Which is...fine, you just really hate working with Mingyu. Judging by the look on his face, the feeling was mutual.

“Dude, I just had to take A5’s order because they’d been in your section for twenty minutes and all you’d done was get them drinks! What the hell, man!” You complained, glaring up at the abnormally tall server. He simply rolled his eyes, glancing back over at the chef and bidding him farewell before brushing past you and making sure that he bumped your shoulder as he did.

“Lay off it, you’re not even a manager yet you’re so high strung. Just chill out, it’s not like they’re going to die if I don’t get them soon.” His response was typical, and honestly you were starting to wonder how he still had a job with how much he slacked off.

Turning on your heel you followed him as he made his way into the empty breakroom in an attempt to get away from your lecture.

“I’d be ‘chill’ if I didn’t always have to cover both my section and your section when we worked together. Why can’t you just do your fucking job?” You complained, eyes boring holes into the back of his head as he pulled his phone out of his locker. Mindlessly scrolling it for a moment, before he turned to look back at you with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Order up!” Could be heard in the distance, over the sound of your pounding heart.

“Well, I guess you better go grab that if you’re working both of our jobs.” Before turning back to his phone and laughing at something on the handheld device.

God you hope that you could keep from throttling the man, because you knew for a fact that you didn’t have bail money.

The night continued with Mingyu doing a minimal amount of his tasks, the only thing you were grateful for was that he at least wrapped his own silverware. You probably would have stabbed him with one of the unwrapped forks if he hadn’t. With a farewell to the rest of the staff and a harsh glare sent in Mingyu’s direction, you were finally able to leave around 12am.

During the drive home, all of the adrenaline from the shift seemed to fade away and leave you as an exhausted husk of a person. Your eyes threatened to drift shut even as you drove, forcing you to roll down your windows to scream sing out whatever song was playing from your phone in an attempt to keep awake. You just wanted this day to be over so you could enjoy your day off tomorrow and catch up on your school work, and so you didn’t have to see Kim Mingyu’s infuriating face.

He probably got away with so much shit just because he was tall and handsome, beautiful features seemed to get so many doors opened for people. Meanwhile, average people like yourself seemed to be overlooked and ignored, having to work twice as hard for something handed to those types of people on silver platters. It was probably the only reason Mingyu still had a job, considering your boss fancied him. It was pathetic how much she fawned over him, and he seemed to just soak up all the praise and attention. Your grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles going white as you thought about the situation.

The tension sat with you until you unlocked the door to your apartment and smelt the wonderful aroma that told you that your roommate had waited up for you. Slipping your shoes off and placing your keys on their hanger, you made your way into the small kitchen.

“Nunu!” You exclaimed as your eyes landed on the male. His thick brown hair was sticking up in all different directions, which told you he had gotten a good nap in before you came home but that he had woken up to make dinner. He pushed up his thick rimmed glasses as he glanced over at you, a small tired smile on his face.

“Welcome home.” he muttered before returning his gaze back to the food he had just plated, picking them up and dropping them off at the table before looking back over at you. “Go change and come eat.”

You gave him a mock salute before doing as instructed. Swapping your work pants and polo shirt for some sleep shorts and a tank top, it had a tendency to get rather hot in your apartment at night even if you had the AC on. When you returned to the kitchen, Wonwoo seemed a bit more awake than before and was scrolling through some website on his phone as he ate. You quickly joined, scarfing down your food.

“How was work?”

With that single question, your expression dropped mid bite. All the irritation flooding back into your system causing you to aggressively stab the next bit of food that you were wanting to eat before beginning your rant.

“So you know that dick bag at work?”

“The really tall hot one?”

“Yeah, that jackass.” You went into extreme detail about the night, fury filling your voice as you spoke.

“Can you believe him!?” You exclaimed, shoveling the last bit off your dinner into your mouth as you heard Wonwoo sigh. He always told you that you needed to quit if this guy was as bad as you said he was and none of the higher ups would do anything about it.

“Sorry Nunu, Didn’t mean to yell...Fuck, how was your day dude?” You stood, taking your plate over to the sink and setting it down. You’d get to those tomorrow, you were too tired to do them tonight.

“Eh, not much different than normal.” He muttered, joining you at the sink. There was a brief pause before he turned to you. “My...my boyfriend is going to come visit tomorrow. He said he wants to meet you, and I mean you’re my best friend so…”

“Oh! Really? Ah, I’ll make dinner tomorrow night then so that you guys can hang out beforehand!” Wonwoo seemed to be appreciative of it as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you into a tight hug. The affection caused your heart to soar, wrapping your arms around his neck as he rested his head on your shoulder “I’ll even clean up around the apartment while you’re at work.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat as his hands lowered to firmly grip your ass. So that was how tonight was going to be. You knew that he had told his (currently unnamed) boyfriend about your little...sexcapades, and apparently the guy didn’t mind. It wasn’t like you and Wonwoo had legit feelings for each other...or at least, Wonwoo didn’t have feelings for you. Your feelings were still up in the air, but you would never tell him that.

“You sure your man is still okay with us doing...this?” You questioned, one hand slipped into his soft brown tresses as you whispered into his ear. Gently nibbling on the lobe of his ear. His response was simply to hike one of your legs up around his waist, bucking his hips forward into your heat. The action caused a soft moan to slip out of your lips, after the stress of today you wouldn’t mind having a round of fun. But Wonwoo seemed to need a reminder of the rules.

“Nunu, baby. I need you to use your words.” You instructed, gently stroking his hair as he gave your thigh a firm squeeze. When the two of you first hooked up like this, you would have never expected any kind of submissive side to him and yet looks could be deceiving. He let out a soft groan at the pet name before listening to your instructions.

“He...he thinks it’s fine.” He muttered into the shell of your neck, nipping lightly as he spoke. “It’s why he wants to meet you.” If you were being honest, you were a little more than surprised at that. You figured that your roommates boyfriend would be less than excited to meet someone who has been fucking their significat other with no strings attached for...multiple years.

“Oh he does? Is he just as dirty as you?” As you spoke, your free hand slid down to his pants to the prominent bulge that was hidden underneath the thin grey sweatpants. You would probably never get over just how large Wonwoo was, it was almost ridiculous. “Does he like that you get fucked by me? Or do you tell him that you’re in charge?”

Your grip had Wonwoo groaning before biting into the flesh of your neck, causing you to let out a loud moan at the sensation. As he let go, you pulled yourself away letting both of your feet return to the floor before turning the tables. You pushed Wonwoo back against the counter top, cornering him. One of your legs rested between his own, and you lifted that leg to press against the growing problem in his pants.

“Answer me Wonwoo.”

“No, he knows you’re in charge.” He told, squirming to try and get a bit more friction to his aching cock. You always liked making him needy, it was such a stark contrast to his normal day to day attitude. So seeing him like this was intoxicating for you.

Since he answered you so honestly, you decided to give him a bit more. Slowly, you pushed his sweatpants down his legs, your fingers gently clawing at the skin of his thighs as you did so. Once those were out of the way, you were pleasantly surprised to find that he had decided to forgo his usual boxers this evening. Leaving his thick cock on display for you.

“Oh, Nunu were you planning this?” You knelt down on the kitchen floor, leaning forward to give a small teasing kiss to the tip of his massive dick. “Did you make dinner for me, just so I’d fuck you against the countertops, while we talk about your boyfriend?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from taking the tip in your mouth, gently sucking on the tender skin as your tongue lapped up the drips of pre-cum from him. Your eyes never leaving his face as you worked, watching as he threw his head back and groaned. His hands gripped the counter’s edge so harshly his knuckles seemed to be turning white.

“Y-yeah,” he breathed out, the sound of it all so sickeningly seductive. “I did. I wanted...fuck I wanted it so bad.” he groaned out, bucking his hips up in an attempt to get you to take more of him. You gripped his hip firmly, pushing them back against the counter and successfully thwarting his attempts. The confession had you clenching around nothing as you pulled away from his dick with a loud pop.

“Oh Nunu, baby Nunu. You know all you have to do is ask. I’m always willing to make time for my good little boy.” Only he wasn’t yours, he had a boyfriend. You were just someone he got fucked by on the side, or well...who fucked him on the side. Despite the melancholy that thought brought to you, you kept up your role and gave a teasing lick to his length. “Does he ever take control, or is my poor little Nunu always domming when he just wants to be dicked down?”

The question along with the actions from your tongue had the male letting out small whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut as you took him into your mouth once more. Once again his hips thrashed forward, only being stopped by your hands as you grip him tightly.

You had been told previously all about Wonwoo’s sexual relations with his boyfriend, another thing that this mysterious man seemed to have no issue with. Once Wonwoo even confessed this boyfriend of his found it ‘hot’ that Wonwoo would tell you, which made you question just who your best friend was dating and how open this relationship would continue being.

“He doesn’t. Fuck fuck, i want it. Just like yo-you...just like you give it to me.” One thing you loved about Wonwoo was that his moans were never loud, but beathy and that was an entirely different type of sexy. As a reward for his honesty you continued your mistrations on his firm length, taking him further into your mouth and pumping what couldn’t fit with your hand.

“No, no fuck. I’ll..cum, I want inside.” His words slurred together and barely made sense as he spoke but you knew exactly what he wanted. So you pulled yourself off of his delicious dick, and despite that being what he asked for he still let out a soft yet insanely deep whine. Missing the contact despite knowing exactly what he wanted.

You quickly slipped your sleep shorts from your frame, letting them drop to the floor. Wonwoo’s eyes watched you hungrily, waiting for you to follow through with his request only for you to flash a devilish grin at him.

“Catch.” Was all the warning he got, but the two of you had played this game before and he knew exactly what to do. Your feet were soon off the ground and wrapped around his waist, the tip of his cock prodding your entrance as he held you up. With practiced ease he turned and let your ass rest on the cold clean countertops, causing your frame to shiver at the temperature difference.

You trust your hips forward, rubbing his length against your folds and letting out a groan as you did so. He curled into you, waiting for permission. Soft pleading words slipped from his lips as he begged to be let in. Being just as needy, you decided to give in.

“Nunu, I want you to fuck me good okay?” Your voice was light and playful as your nails sunk into the skin of his back, prompting another low breathy groan from the male. “I want your boyfriend to be able to tell how good you fucke me, can you do that for me, baby boy?” He nodded against your shoulder as you gave him the final go ahead.

It was almost painful how slowly he entered you, filling you up completely while taking the most grueling pace ever. You knew what this was, his own little way of teasing you back. Sure Wonwoo enjoyed subbing and he was a very obedient sub but he was still a switch and things like this were how he made sure you knew that despite the position he took in your ‘relationship’.

“Fuck shit.” You groaned, throwing your head back and clenching around him as he bottomed out inside you. Despite how many time the two of you had sex, it always felt like the first time. You always felt impossibly full, and add him moaning in your ear into the mix and you swore you could come undone just from that. He started at an agonizingly slow pace, making sure to pull himself almost completely out of your before slamming back in. The feeling rocking you to your very core, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“God Nunu, you feel so fucking good.” You moaned out, “You fill me up so well baby, it’s like your dick was made for me.” Hearing your words seemed to spur him into a faster pace. His hands gripping your hips tightly as he slammed into you, there would surely be bruises there come tomorrow. You were once again finding another reason to be grateful that you were off work tomorrow.

“Fuck, your so tight.” He groaned, the husky low tones doing wonders to you. “Won’t last.” Was all he could bring out as his thrust grew more messy, less coordinated as he struggled to reach his high. One of his hands left your hips and found its way to your clit, gently massaging the small bundle of nerves as he continued his deep thrusts. It seemed like that was all you needed to be thrown off the edge

“Ah, fuck fuck, cum for me Wonwoo.”

And cum he did. You felt so full with just him, not bothering to worry about any kind of protection since you were on the pill. Your heart pounding a mile a minute as you leaned forward, resting your head on his shoulders. Three little words lingers on your lips, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say them. They weren’t your words to say...he wasn’t yours and he never would be.

***

Needless to say you were walking with a small limp the next day as you cleaned up around the house. Making sure to sanitize the kitchen countertops after your little...encounter there last night. Loud music blared through the apartment, you singing loudly along to the shitty songs about unrequited love. It was pathetic but at least it was a way to get the emotions out.

You had a few more hours before Wonwoo would be off work, and he boyfriend probably wouldn’t come over until after that so you weren’t all too concerned with your appearance at the moment, you’d probably wear something presentable and chit chat with the two for a bit before escaping to Joshua’s house. He knew about your stupid feelings and was willing to let you make an escape whenever you needed, he was a damn good friend.

To your surprise, a knock sounded through the apartment causing you to jump in shock. Grabbing your phone, you paused your music before returning the item to the kitchen table where it had been sitting. Grabbing the metal bat from beside the door, the two of you kept it there just in case of an intruder) you gripped the handle of the item before slowly pulling the door open. The sight that greeted you caused a rage to pool inside of your gut.

“Kim Mingyu, what the fuck are you doing at my apartment?” You seethed, glaring up at the male. A part of you was debating on just slamming the door back into his face, that would be pretty damn satisfying. Despite your irritation, he looked just as surprised as you felt.

“I’m here to visit my boyfriend and his roommate. But if you’re here, I must have the wrong place.” His words seemed to push everything into place and you were going to be sick. With how much Wonwoo had spoken about his boyfriend, he never mentioned the guy’s name...and the same went for you, you complained about your coworker on an almost daily basis but never mentioned that it was Kim Mingyu.

“Wonwoo? You’re here to see Wonwoo?” The words left your lips shakily, and you felt a rock sink into your gut. You prayed to whatever God was listening that he would deny it, say some other name, that he literally did get the wrong address and Wonwoo’s boyfriend wasn’t going to be your arch nemesis.

He nodded, he fucking nodded and it felt like everything was crashing around you. Not only was Kim Mingyu a hassle at work, but now you were finding out that he was dating the guy you were in love with. It was all too much.

“Well, you’re early. He doesn’t get off work until 6.” You muttered, opening the door to let him in despite the urge to leave him stranded outside until Wonwoo got home. You heard the door shut behind you, but couldn’t bring yourself to look back at him. Thinking about all the things Wonwoo had told you about the mysterious boyfriend, it was too much. Mingyu knew far too much about you now. Fuck now you would have to quit, there is no way he would keep that information secret now that he knew it was you fucking his boyfriend.

“Oh, I know. He said his roommate was going to make dinner, so I wanted to come over to help.” You flashed him a disgruntled look as he explained his reasoning for coming over so early. A sharp comment on the tip of your tongue as he slipped his shoes off and entered your abode as if it were his own. “Though, if I had known you were his roommate I probably would have stayed home.”

There it was, that smug smirk that you wanted to punch off of his face. A fire grew in your stomach and you stormed into the kitchen, determined to start and finish dinner as soon as possible. You weren’t going to stay here tonight, hoping Joshua wouldn’t mind you coming over earlier than expected.

“Well, lucky for you. I don’t need help, so you can just stand around and do nothing. You’re already pretty good at that.” Hearing the sound of his footsteps behind as you entered the kitchen, the small chuckle coming after it. Almost like he was mocking you, like he knew about your hidden feelings for Wonwoo, like he knew this was possibly the worst outcome for your evening. At this point, you just wanted to know why he seemed to enjoy pushing your buttons.

You swung open the door to the fridge and bent down to begin pulling out the items you would need to start the meal. You could feel his eyes on you as you traveling around the kitchen, pulling out bowls and spices, and it was infuriating.

“You know, you’re pretty hot when you’re angry,” His words caused you to practically choke on your own breath. “I wonder if that’s what gets Wonwoo off when you two fuck.” It was almost like he punched you in the gut. Of course, you knew that he knew but you definitely weren’t expecting him to just outright bring it up. Though you should have expected something as blunt as that from Kim Fucking Mingyu.

You placed the box of salt on the counter before turning to glare at Mingyu once more, only to find him almost directly behind you...much closer than he had been. Your mind flashed back to the night before, where you fucked Wonwoo in this very room, and now you were standing here talking to his boyfriend. You took a deep breath, swallowing your hesitation before continuing with your thought.

“Look, Wonwoo said you were cool with it. If it’s a problem then it stops, simple as that. I may hate your fucking guts but I’m not gonna keep fucking your boyfriend better than you do without your okay.”

That was...definitely the wrong thing to say but your anger got the better of you, your jealousy. It was a monster that was now fueling the previous wrath you had felt for the male. Before you could think about anything else to say, you felt yourself being forced back against the counter with his hands laying flat on either side of you, caging you in as he stared down with a dark look in his eye.

“See, I don’t think you do. I think you’re just a cocky, high strung, know-it-all who thinks she’s better than everyone else.” He muttered, his voice lowering into a range you had never heard before from the male. It sent a heat straight to your core, a heat you usually only felt around Wonwoo, this seemed to only fuel your anger. You quickly pushed your hands to his, rather firm, chest and shoved him backwards, hard enough to get him away from you but not hard enough to accidentally hurt him.

“And I think you’re a lazy jackass who hasn’t had to work a day in his life just because his perfect good looks have gotten him everything he could ever want.” You retorted, voice coming out almost as a growl. If a look could kill someone then Mingyu would have instantly caught fire from the heat of your gaze. Despite your anger, he still carried that smug grin on his face.

“Awe, you think I’m pretty? I mean, you’re right but it’s always nice to hear.”

“Fuck, you’re insuferable! Just shut up and leave me alone, so I can finish making this fucking dinner and then leave.” With that you turned back to the counter, furiously beginning your task as you tried to ignore the man who was currently plaguing your day.

“Make me.” Those two little words, you weren’t sure why but those two simple words seemed to throw your entire world into disarray. It was like a switch was flipped and you couldn’t stop the urge growing inside you, the urge to break him. You wanted him practically crying and begging for you, but...you couldn’t do that. Despite how much you hated him, this was still Wonwoo’s boyfriend and while he was okay with Wonwoo fooling around with you...you weren’t sure how Wonwoo would feel if you decided to humiliate his boyfriend. You gripped the bowl in front of you, trying your best to take a deep breath and stop yourself from doing the terrible things you were thinking of.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said make me. I thought that was like a trigger phrase for dom’s?” So he knew what he was doing, he knew it and was still being an ass. The switch broke, and all you could see was red. You turned back to face him, glowering up at him and your face flushed with an angry heat.

“What the hell are you trying to pull Kim Mingyu?” Your accusatory tone was harsh, even harsher than the tones you used at work. In fact, the only time you had really spoken like this to anyone was the one time Wonwoo had attempted to be a brat. You watched as a small shiver went up his spine, his eyes never leaving yours. His shit eating grin seemed to only grow as you took harsh steps towards him, causing him to back up until he was stopped by a wall. His back pressed firmly against it, but you refused to lift your arms and cage him in.

“Well, what if I told you I didn’t come over to help with dinner prep.”

“Color me surprised.” He ignored your sarcasm and continued.

“What if I said that Wonwoo wanted me to come here early, cause he wanted me to see how good he got it with you?” It almost seemed like he was determined to give you a heart attack today, there was no way Wonwoo would have said something like that. Right? As if he could sense the hesitation to believe his words, reached up and gently cupped your cheek with his.

“Or maybe, you’d rather I take control today?” Once again it seemed like he knew exactly how to push your buttons to rekindle the rage in your gut all over again. You reached up and gripped his wrist, yanking his hand away from you. Your earlier fervor returning, as you tightly clenched his wrist. The grip tight enough to show him just who was in charge here, but not tight enough to actually hurt him.

“Bad boys don’t get to be in control.”

“Bad Boy? Is that what we’re going with?”

“It’s better than me calling you a jackass. Which is the name i’d prefer to call you.”

Everything felt like a blur, soon you were pulling him towards you by his collar and slamming your lips onto his own. It was nothing like your kisses with Wonwoo which were full of passion, you filled this with as much anger as you could. You wanted him to feel your anger, your pain, you deserved that much if all you were going to be is a cock sleeve. A dom to get tossed back and forth between the couple. You weren’t sure if that was what Wonwoo was intending but, a part of you felt worthless in any aspect except sex so you might as well use what you’ve got.

Not bothering to break the heated kiss, full of teeth and tongue, you navigated Mingyu into the living room. Only then did you pull away, nipping at his bottom lip with your teeth as you did. He quickly went to bring his lips back to your own, but you decided to not let him get that pleasure and shoved him back onto the couch, his shirt riding up ever so slightly as he fell back onto the sofa that was much too small for him, let alone two people.

“We have rules here Mingyu, I know you have trouble following them at work but try not to be too much of a whore and break my rules. Got it?” He rolled his eyes as you began explaining, as if he were already planning on disobeying your very simple rules. “First is, we go by the color system. Got it?” He nodded. “The second is, you don’t cum until I tell you to.”

You might hate the male below you, but you weren’t going to do things he wasn’t comfortable with. You weren’t a terrible person, just an angry one. Despite these gratuitous warnings, Mingyu still seemed irritatingly smug.

“Wow, pretty weak rules. I doubt you could make me cum even if you tried.”

You were going to make him eat those words.

Which was probably why he was currently a groaning mess on your couch, hands bound behind his back and his jeans long discarded. In your hand was a small vibrator that you were just lightly pressing against his hard cock. He wasn’t as large as Wonwoo, width wise and was a bit shorter than him but it was still pretty impressive. You would never tell him that though.

He looked a mess, almost as if he was just about to hit his high. So you removed the toy, and listened to those beautiful whines escape his lips. He was in for a long ride if he thought this was the worst you were going to do to him.

“Awe, is the little whore upset I took his toy away?” Your tone mocking as you turned off the vibrator, waiting for his response to see just what you would do next. He seemed to be expecting something like this and grinned despite his heavy breathing.

“You’re little games aren’t doing shit. I think you’re just too scared to fuck me yourself.” Without hesitation you returned the vibrator to his dick, turning it onto its highest setting just so you could watch him squirm. He let out a loud gasp, throwing his head back against the couch cushions, his back arching off of the couch as he let out a sinful moan. Then it was over, you were once again pulling the toy away from him once again, giving a teasing lick to the silicone as he glared at you through hooded eyes. His breath coming out in small pants as he lost that high once more.

With a smug smirk of your own, you leaned forward your lips stopping right next to his ear. One of your hands reached down to slowly stroke his twitching member, you could practically feel how close he was.

“Oh I’m not scared, I just don’t want your trash dick inside me.” Much to your surprise you felt him tremble beneath you. So he liked being talked down to? That was good to know, you would definitely be using that to your advantage. It was a stark contrast from Wonwoo who lived for praise, you honestly thought Mingyu would be the same way.

“What makes you think I’d want your dick when I can fuck your boyfriend whenever I want? His massive cock fills me up so well, almost like he was made for me.” Your words were but a sinful whisper in his ear. Your teeth gently nipping at the lobe of his ear, pulling slightly as you spoke. The words plus your hand against his dick brought out another groan, almost like you had struck a match inside him. Before you could stop him, he pushed himself forward and sunk his teeth into the crook of your neck and you were almost certain that it was almost harsh enough to break the skin. A surprised yelp left your lips, mixing into a long moan at the feeling. Without even thinking about it, your grip on his dick tightened which seemed to be the exact reaction he was hoping for. The feeling pulling him over the edge as he released into your hand with a low guttural moan.

You pulled yourself away, staring at your jizz covered hand in feigned disgust.

“One simple rule, and you couldn’t even follow it. Wonwoo was right when he said you were fucking filthy.” You chastised, wiping your hand off on his naked thigh not giving him the pleasure of seeing you lick it off of your own skin. He hadn’t earned that.

“What’re you gonna do about it? Punish me?” The words left his lips just as your hand moved to wrap around his neck, squeezing the side lightly as to give him the choking sensation without actually putting him in potential danger.

“Whore, what’s your color?”

“Fuck, fuck green. So green, fuck.” Taking that response, you quickly tighten your grip which was followed by another strangled groan. You weren’t about to admit it, but he looked really hot like this. Underneath you, completely spent while still seeming to be gearing up for another round.

“Well then you better get comfortable, brat. Because you’ve really pissed me off now.” With every word your grip tightened just a bit more before you pulled away, ending the sentence. You turned your back to him for a moment, shoving off everything that had previously been on your coffee table before taking a seat on top of it, right in perfect view of Mingyu.

“If you even want me to think about putting your filthy dick inside of me, then you better not move. Got that?” You didn’t wait for his response as you pulled your shirt over your head, and quickly unclipped your bra, tossing both of the garments to the other side of the living room to be forgotten about. Without hesitation you began fondling your chest, tweaking your rapidly hardening nipples. Your eyes never left Mingyu, making sure he was paying attention and keeping still. A quick glance down at his lap and you could see his cock slowly starting to harden once more at the sight before him. His tongue slipped out of his mouth to lick his lips, eyes not leaving your chest as you fondled yourself.

While one hand continued to fondle your breasts, your other slid down to tease the waste of your shorts.

“Tell me what you want you little whore, maybe I’ll give it to you if you ask nicely enough.” In truth, you had no intention of giving him anything just yet but dangling his wants in front of his face would be so sweet a punishment. One he deserved for breaking your rules.

“Let me fuck you, I know you want it too. I’ve seen how you keep watching my cock, almost drooling aren’t you baby girl.” Instantly at his words, you stopped touching yourself and stood from the table. Without a word you made your way out of the living room and down the hallway, ignoring as he called out to you. To your surprise though, he was still in the same spot on the couch when you returned with what you had got to grab. A soft silk tie, black in color and well used.

You grabbed the previously discarded vibrator and returned it to its former position pressed against his cock and used the tie to keep it held there without the need for your hands before you turned it onto the lowest setting possible. Still sweet but enough to drive him crazy. Then you proceeded to push him back down into a lying position before stripping yourself of your shorts and underwear, tossing them into the ever growing pile of clothing.

“If you’re going to keep talking back, I might as well put your disgusting mouth to good use.” You said, swinging your leg over him so that you were now straddling his face. Your dripping pussy resting just above his face. “Get to work, bitch.”

He groaned out, loving the treatment you were giving him before he latched his lips to your wet sex, tongue lapping up whatever liquid he could as if this were his last meal. It was honestly really fucking sexy. You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a soft breathy moan, which only seemed to encourage the male below you.

As another mewl left your lips you heard the sound of the front door being opened, and the distinct voice of Wonwoo calling out that he was home. Your heart almost stopped, you weren’t sure if you were excited for Wonwoo to discover the two of you or terrified. Mingyu didn’t seem bothered by it, not even really acknowledging his boyfriend’s voice as he continued to devour your pussy. His tongue gave a particularly pleasing swipe just as Wonwoo entered the living room.

Your eyes met his brown ones and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he saw the compromising position the two of you were in. For a moment, you were concerned that Mingyu had lied and that Wonwoo would be upset. The relief that filled your body as he quickly closed the distance, leaning over the couch and pulling you into a deep kiss. If it was possible the kiss was almost better than the attacks to your lower region, if only because it was from Wonwoo. When he pulled away he let his forehead press against your own.

“I see you guys couldn’t be bothered to wait for me…” He didn’t sound upset at all though, almost as if he were hoping to catch the two of you in the act. You reached up and took a handful of his beautiful brown tresses into your grip, pulling ever so slightly as you ground your pelvis against Mingyu’s face.

“This little whore needed to be taught a lesson, Nunu. You’re boyfriend’s such a disgusting boy, so selfish.” Your words could barely come out as you felt your high coming closer and closer. Mingyu was in fact, pretty damn good with his mouth. You weren’t about to come undone yet though, so you released Wonwoo from your grip and pushed Mingyu’s head away from you. The action was met with a pitiful whine from the infuriating male.

“Oh shut up, you don’t deserve to make me cum. You’ve been nothing but a whiney, needy bitch. Like a dog in heat.” You watched him tremble as your words went straight to his dick, the vibrations from the toy doing just enough to keep him needy but not enough to get him too close to cumming again.

“You like that, being a little dog? Fucking sick, this little dog just wants a hole to fuck.” You reached down and gripped his cheeks in your hand, pushing your face just close enough for you to bite his lip before pulling away.

Your attention turned fully to Wonwoo, a small grin on his face.

“Nunu, can you show this dirty dog how to be a good boy?” A request the male was all too quick to comply with. At your instructions he stripped down under the watchful eyes of both yourself and Mingyu.

“Now i want you to sit on the table, right here. Don’t touch yourself until I get back.” You ordered, and Wonwoo nodded. As obedient as always. You glanced back at Mingyu, arms still tied behind his back, dick looking almost painfully hard and your slick covering his lips. Letting out a small chuckle before leaving the living room once more only this time on much shakier legs.

As you dug through your toybox you could hear the distinct voice of Mingyu.

“Come one Wonwoo, you should touch yourself. Don’t you wanna make her mad?” He was trying to sound in control but you could tell the over stimulation was getting to him. His words were pitchy, and he seemed to be trying to catch his breath as he egged on his boyfriend. Oh he was going to regret that.

“Not really,” Was Wonwoo’s reply. “She’ll keep you on edge for hours if you keep this up, Gyu.” The male scoffed, only his scoff came out more as a moan than anything else. You couldn’t see what he was doing but you could hear the distinct sound of the creaking couch to give away that he was in fact moving despite your instructions. Another strike.

“S-She...she’s not so tough.” Left his lips as you returned to the room, strap on in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. You could see Wonwoo’s eyes light up as he recognized the item, which just so happened to be his favorite of the strap ons that you owned. Keeping yourself behind the couch so that you obscured Mingyu’s vision of you until you had the extension snuggly strapped onto yourself.

Being the good boy he was, Wonwoo scooted himself to the edge of the table and leaned back on his hands as he waited for you. You stopped just in front of him, squeezing a nice amount of lube into your open palm and began coating the strap on, stroking the silicone toy as Wonwoo and Mingyu hungrily watched.

“Color?”

You question was followed by both men giving green, giving you the go ahead to continue. Kneeling forward, you pushed Wonwoo’s legs apart and he was more than willing to let you. His hand stayed pressed firmly against the hardwood of the coffee table, his fingers twitching slightly as he did his best to not touch himself or you until he got the go ahead. The order never came though, this was about putting on a show for Mingyu and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

You slowly prodded a lube covered finger at his ass, teasing the hole a bit before entering to begin preparing him for the much larger dildo. Once again the apartment was filled with your favorite sounds, his low breathy moans. Only this time they were accompanied by the almost whining coming from Mingyu as he lay helpless on the couch.

“See Mingyu? This is what good little boys get. Isn’t that right Nunu?” Your question was followed by a few soft teasing nips at his thigh, and another finger entering his tight hole. His moans were breathtaking to listen to, it filled you with confidence that you couldn’t describe. Your own core was practically throbbing, you had no idea you would enjoy being watched like this.

Your other hand reached up, taking Wonwoo’s massive cock and slowly pumping it just as you had done to Mingyu’s before this. The whimpers that left his lips as Mingyu squirming from his spot on the couch, desperate to be touched by something more than the vibrator that was still lightly buzzing. After a few more pumps of your hand, you removed the fingers and positioned yourself in front of the entrance.

“God, yes please please fuck me.” Wonwoo was practically begging at this point.

“Anything for my good boy.” Slowly, you pushed your hips forward to sink the thick black silicone dick inside of Wonwoo’s ass. You took a second to let him get adjusted, and to just watch him whimper below you, his back arching and his eyes screwed shut as he begged for you to move. Which you gladly complied with.

“You’re always so good for me Nunu, my perfect boy.” You praised as you thrust into his ass, taking quick thrust just the way he liked it. Pulling out almost completely before harshly snapping your hips forward, making sure to stroke his cock in time with your trusts. The actions had him a mess below you and you could practically see Mingyu drooling as he watched the two of you.

“Mingyu, if you want this. Then I want you to rut against the couch. You better cum without me touching you or you won’t be getting anything else tonight.” It was almost instantaneous how quickly he moved, flipping over onto his stomach as he began needily humping at your couch, his eyes never leaving the scenario in front of him though as he used it to try and bring himself his much needed second release of the night.

The air felt hot and humid as the moans of the two males filled the apartment, and fuck it was hot. You weren’t even being properly touched and you were still feeling close. The feeling only growing as Wonwoo shivered below you.

“Please, please miss. F-fuck, pleae let me cum.” He whimpered, his eyes glancing over at Mingyu. Watching his boyfriend rutting against the couch like a dog in heat. For a moment you were brought out of the mood, remembering that you were just a third you had no part of the actual relationship that the two men had. Shaking your head, you quickly pulled yourself back, that was a problem for future you. Right now your only concern was making sure these men were properly fucked out.

“Go ahead, cum for me baby. Cum while your boyfriend watches me fuck you.” That was all he needed, you felt his dick twitch in your hand before thick strings of white cum left him. You continued your mistrations making sure to milk his orgasm for all it was worth. Your eyes drifted over to Mingyu, who seemed to be having a bit of trouble getting to that high once again and he looked down right pitiful.

After Wonwo had successfully come back to you, you pulled yourself from him as you decided to give Mingyu a little help. Sure you still hated him, but it would be cruel to not finish him off now.

“Stop and sit up.” You ordered, and surprisingly the male responded just as Wonwoo had, with obedience. You unlaced the tie and pulled the unsatisfying vibrator away from his cock, listening to more loud whiny moans leave his lips.

“Don’t expect me to be this nice again, you filthy dog. I have standards.” You muttered, before lowering your lips to his throbbing dick. You could hear Wonwoo’s breathy moans from behind you as he watched you suck off his boyfriend. Hollowing your cheeks and teasing his tip with your tongue seemed to be just enough to push Mingyu over the edge and you felt his thick hot release enter your mouth. Not wanting to make a mess, you just swallowed the salty liquid before pulling away and wiping your lips. His loud moans causing your core to ache in need. Which was another thing you would never admit out loud, his moans were just as delicious as Wonwoo’s.

“See? Was being good so hard?” You questioned, pulling your mouth off of his softening member. Sure you were left still needy but you could take care of that in the shower, your job here was done. They got what they wanted out of you and you’d see yourself out.

You went to stand once more, muttering something about going to take a shower and clean up when you felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around you from behind. Wonwoo carefully began unstrapping the accessory from your pelvis, letting it fall to the floor between you and Mingyu with a soft thud. Followed by his lips pressing small kisses against your neck.

“Gyu, think you can finish her off?” He questioned the fucked out male on the couch in between his feather light kisses. You heard a soft groan escape Mingyu’s lips, almost as if it were a hassle but he reached out and grabbed your thighs to pull you closer to him.

“Nunu, it’s fine.” You tried to protest, but the words stopped dead in your throat as Mingyu’s tongue began to work you once again. A small curse leaving your lips as your hand found its way into Mingyu’s hair, causing him to chuckle slightly before his lips latched against your clit, his tongue working furiously to tease the nub.

“You really think we’re just going to let you leave after that?” Wonwoo questioned, his tone reminding you of the times he would switch. Taking control of your little scenarios and it had you letting out another embarrassingly loud groan. “You’re not leaving here until you cum.”

And cum you did.

A few hours later, after some showers, the three of you were gathered around the kitchen table with a small slew of pizza boxes since none of you had the actual energy to make dinner. It wasn’t awkward per se, but you certainly felt awkward. The two were casually chatting with each other as if what transpired in the living room hadn’t happened. You picked at the pepperoni on the slice in front of you. Sure you were hungry but couldn’t bring yourself to really eat more than a few bites.

“Hey, make sure to eat. You probably wore yourself out back there,” Mingyu mentioned, causing you to finally look up from your pizza and connect eyes with him. “You’re gonna need the food so you get back that energy.”

Your eyes flickered over to Wonwoo before returning to Mingyu. “I am eating.” You lied, lifting the slice to show him the small bites you had taken. “I don’t need you babying me.”

The sound of Wonwoo muttering your name had your attention on him once again, “You don’t have to be the hard one all the time.” Just like normal, he seemed to see right through you. A sigh escaped your lips as you reluctantly took another bite of the food. After you thoroughly chewed and swallowed the bite you spoke once more.

“I’ll be heading over to Josh’s tonight,” This had both men turning their gaze to you once more. The anxiety from before filled your gut once more, maybe you would even ask Josh if he was needing another roommate. “Give you guys some alone time, ya know?”

“What if...we said we wanted you to stay?” You were caught off guard by Mingyu’s declaration, fixing your nemesis with a harsh questioning gaze. He seemed to find the look amusing, once again returning to your game of cat and mouse. “Is that so bad? It’s not like you’re completely terrible company.”

“I’m not fucking you again.”

Your words had both men letting out their own unique laughs, the sound surprisingly made your heart flutter. Wonwoo’s was to be expected, but Mingyu’s that was new territory. Wonwoo took Mingyu’s hand, gently caressing the top of it with his thumb. You found your gaze lingering on the intimate action, a longing filling your chest and making you sick to your stomach. You didn’t want to just be a third that was kept around for fun times, but how were you supposed to tell them that when all your words seemed to die in your throat.

“We’re not asking for that. We...talked while you were in the shower, we’d like to give this,” Wonwoo gestured to the three of you. “A try.”

“You are aware that I absolutely hate your boyfriend though.” Which wasn’t a total lie, he was still infuriating but now that you were watching him with Wonwoo. You were seeing a side of him that you had originally not believed to exist, a side that wasn’t a complete ass.

“He’s aware, I told him all about our ‘loving’ work relationship.” Mingyu snorted as he spoke, rolling his eyes as he probably imagined how just yesterday had been for the two of you. “And we still want to give it a shot. He and I love each other, but he...also loves you.”

The confession has your heart stopping dead in your chest, eyes quickly moving back over to watch Wonwoo’s face heat up in a pink flush at Mingyu confessing for him.

“It’s the main reason I was cool with the two of you fooling around. I knew I had part of his heart, but so did you. It’s also why I wanted to meet you. It’d be easier on all of us if you and I also shared something, yeah?”

“You’re kidding right? This is all just some massive joke isn’t it? It’s not funny, guys.” You felt your hands tremble lightly, scared that they would admit to their offer being false. That you’d be left alone and hurt at such a cruel prank. To your surprise though, Wonwoo reached across the table and took your hand in his own. Caressing the skin as he had done with Mingyu’s only moments ago.

“It’s no joke. I love you, and I hope you love me too...and can maybe even come to love Mingyu too.”

For the first time in a long time, your heart was soaring in your chest.

***

“Mingyu, I love you I really fucking do, but that doesn’t mean I’m cool with you making me wait your tables.” You complained, shoving your boyfriend from behind as the two of you entered your apartment after returning from another ridiculously long shift at your mutual job. Mingyu laughed as he slipped out of his shoes so he could make his way into the apartment proper.

“But you still let me do it, just admit it. You’re whipped for me now~”

“Oh, in your dreams, Puppy.” You could tell the nickname hit Mingyu just the right way, by now you knew all the right buttons to press to tease him without even having to touch him. Slipping off your own shoes you followed him into the living room flopping down on the couch as he turned the AC on, muttering something about how hot the stupid apartment was.

Closing your eyes, your rested your head against the back of the couch in an attempt to relax despite still being in your work clothing. It was only for a moment though, as Mingyu moved to straddle your waist.

“Down boy, tonight’s Wonwoo’s night. I don’t have the energy to deal with your ridiculous sex drive right now.” You muttered, but didn’t bother trying to push him off as he leaned forwards to nip at your neck just the way you liked it. He pouted against the flesh but did as he was told, stopping his ‘assault’ but not bothering to move off of you.

That was how Wonwoo found the two of you when he returned home from work, the both of you fast asleep on the couch without a care in the world. He watched his partners with a soft look in his eye, heart filled with love.

It wasn’t the perfect relationship but it was one he wouldn’t trade for the world.

#svtredroom #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu smut #wonwoo smut #kim mingyu smut #jeon wonwoo smut

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supercharmed-forever-mine · 3 years

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Today I will be addressing SuperCorp and some of the issues that have been floating around about fandom. And I will be saying some stuff that both is for it and could be used against it even though I am ultimately a super big supercorp fan. Like it says in the tags you're free to express your opinion but they will not be changing mine but I am always open-minded to opinions that can actually be explained and eloquently expressed (receipt's needed) and aren't just basic. Also just so what is noted I have been a part of this fandom since the first episode I have literally shipped Kara with everyone from Lucy to Cat even James.But Lena has just stuck out the most for me but I'm Equal opportunity.

Number #1, Lena's character in no way shape or form has ever been xenophobic she has never once shown any hate towards aliens her problem with Kara in season 5 Wasn't because she was an alien it was because she was a "Super" like Kara could have been a flying purple fucking octopus from the planet of shzjxfdf and Lena wouldn't have gave two fucks but no she was a "Super"but let's dig deeper on that point if we really look at why she was mad it wasn't even the whole alien aspect it was because she wasn't told and no I don't think she's entitled to it but I do think it played into the fact of a trust issue she has with the fact that people would think she would be just like Lex if she had been told Sooner. Which is disproved in 5x13 (also personal note: I also think she wouldn't have reacted half as bad if Kara had just told her that night at game night or the next day when she wanted to probably still would have been pissed but not to the same extent). But okay with that being said I do disagree with the kryptonite entrapment torture scene and basically half the s*** she did in season 5 it was shown that she truly can tap into her Luthor side and be dark when wanted but fortunately she does always return to the light and in all fairness it has been shown several times that Kara has a dark side of her own that could rival the luthors.

Number #2, I do disagree with the abuse of actresses and actors just because of a ship and or character they play don't blame them it's just a job they have I think Melissa and Katie do a beautiful job of bringing Kara and Lena's characters to life couldn't imagine anybody else playing them.

Number #3, I also will say about the reason bombarding of comments on Nicole's social media at least I saw the video via tiktok in that video was fucking hilarious I love Nia, Dreamer,and Nicole in general she's funny and beautiful and is an advocate for everything good in life and well it is normal to even ask other actors if they have the scoop on anything it does not mean we need to be bombarding them in videos on something relating to their character or their love of something a simple comment or so maybe but what I saw NO.

Number #4, The William of it all well I think though his character seems like a nice gentleman he also seems to be bland as hell also I did not know he was a POC to be honest I thought he was a tan white man and we'll be doing further research on people in the future as I can learn from my ignorance also but unrelated I did not know that the woman who played Maggie was apparently just a tan white woman I thought she was of some sort of Hispanic descent but apparently not according to various things I've read on here tonight... But anyways back to William I feel like a lot of people might have perceived him as a white man therefore that might play into the whole scenario of people hate that they just want two white woman together when it proves if she was a man they wouldn't give two f**** about it whether that's true or not I don't know but mine two cents.

Number #5, I will never bash someone for being for or against a certain ship and or character and well I am allowed to certainly disagree with their opinion all opinions are valid because we all see the world a different way some see it bright and shiny and others like I'll admit myself see it through the glasses of trauma. And I think that's why we all have the opinions we do most of the time when you like a shipper character it's because you relate to them somehow even if it's the most minor thing to someone else it might be huge for you. You never know what the person on the other side of the screen is going through in those characters or ship or fanfiction might have literally saved their lives.

Sidenote: Like okay personal story I was been both mentally and sexually abused as a child so I relate to both Kara and Lena respective childhood trauma so that draws me to them. And I kind of see them both as the opposite attract trope (two side of the same coin) because well we never fully get over trauma Kara had a great support system with the Danvers whereas Lena didn't get that with the luthors I mean sure she had Lex at first but even that was only to a certain extent because of his psychopathy that was starting to manifest he couldn't perceive human emotions the same as Lena who in my opinion is just a big mushy nerd who can be a badass when needed as evident by the season 6 episodes after she's quit L-Corp she's constantly trying to help out inventing new stuff and she's wondering how Nia's suit works and it just shows that she just has a curious mind and also she looks happier even with the guilt she feels over Kara's phantom zone incident when Nia called her a part of the family that smile could lit up a city all she's ever wanted is to belong and I can relate to that therefore to her.

Number #6, I feel like this should have been addressed in earlier number but as far as sexuality goes I would want to believe Kara is pansexual because of everything I've ever read and saw I don't believe she perceived sexuality like humans do because of her Kryptonian upbringing for the first good chunk of the life. Like even though she says she's not gay in the first episode, A. It was the first episode so they didn't even know where the story was going in future seasons if they got them also that means maybe she just didn't perceive herself as the Earth's definition of gay. B. Even in the first season she made a comment about how she bought Lucy was gorgeous and hell she would date her. C. She made some comments about Irma and other woman that don't sound totally heterosexual and don't get me wrong women can admire the beauty and intelligence of other women without it being sexual but as a bisexual woman it just struck a cord in me you can tell the difference when it's coming from a straight woman mouth. Now on the subject of her and Lena strictly I do think there are instances of "queerbaiting"because just because you perceive they haven't been promised to us doesn't mean that some of us haven't picked up on things or the fact that they're simply queerbating because somehow they do hype up Kara and Lena to keep a nice chunk of the audience who ships them mainly those of the gay variety interested in the show which is also considered queerbaiting. Also the fact that they've been called sisters or family or my personal favorite "that's what friends are for"doesn't mean crap because honestly at this point the overuse of friends just sounds more like they're trying to convince themselves than us.*** Also I don't know about you but even on the basic level of things they've done I've never shown half those feelings towards my friends and the ones I have it's because I started to think of them as more than friends.

Now with Lena's sexuality no they have never shown her as anything besides straight canonically but don't get me wrong she totally sends off that college experimentation vibe especially with Andrea for some reason but that may just be me.

Number #7, my main point is let's just be kind to one another because guess what there is toxicity from every ship in a fandom there will always be shitty people on both sides and then there will be those of us who just want to see the characters together for one reason or another and yes I'm not afraid to admit that part of my reasons I want to see two gorgeous woman kiss sue me LOL.

Number #8, the conclusion of my rant is that how about we leave the hating to the ones who want to do that and the rest of us like adults or whatever your age is in the fandom that has any type of maturity behave because I truly do wish the best and in the end well I hope they end up together I'm realistic that they probably won't especially due to the CW Network motto of "homophobia and racism"because they've already broken up several good gay and interracial couples on that show. But at the end of the day my true wish is just that all of the characters end up happy and healthy.

Best of luck to all shippers out there anti and supercorp and or any other couple alike may we try to make it out of this with a modicum of sanity and even if they fail us we always have fanfiction thank you and good night.

#SuperCorp #anti supercorp #anti lena luthor #supercorp endgame #melissa benoist #katie mcgrath #william dey #supergirl #wlw ship

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mirrorforevers · 4 years

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any human friend • graham coxon/reader

i know its been a while but at last its here! thank u so much for the prompt anon, hope u didn’t give up on me n i hope u guys enjoy it jkhkdjd loved writing this fic so much

word count: 2.873 pairing: graham/fem!reader

It’s a Saturday. Usually, you always have plans with your friends after your concerts, but for different reasons they all canceled that day's meeting. Life was tough for artists on the rise. The week had been exhausting enough that you wouldn't give up drinking to forget about your problems. When you arrive at the pub, you don’t recognize any familiar face, and, somewhat disappointed, you sit next to a man with graying hair who is very concentrated on his phone.

A bummer of a night for such a talkative girl.

“One pint of lager and a packet of crisps, please.” You order, mindlessly tapping on the table to the beat of a random rhythm. You kept stealing sideways glances at the man sitting by your side.

“Can’t believe she did this.” The man mutters, still very concentrated on whatever he was watching or reading. You, for a split second, thought he was judging your very basic order for some reason but then noticed he just thought out loud, and you joke: “What’s wrong with my order, mate?”

This takes him out of his trance as he awkwardly and quickly apologizes, and while you calm him down you notice he’s one of the artists that shared the stage with you on The Nightingale earlier that day. He was absolutely incredible - you wanted to tell him how much you enjoyed his music but didn’t get the chance. Well, apparently now’s the time. “Wait, I saw you playing today.” is what you say, mid sentence, a little starstruck even though, just like you, he wasn’t famous. You were at the same page in a matter of stardom, actually. He blushes and smiles, and after he takes a long sip of his drink, he asks: “And did you like it?”

“A lot!” You answer a little too excitedly, containing yourself so you don’t scare him away. Music was always a topic that excited you to the point of making you tremble sometimes. “Um, you’re an awesome songwriter. I played in The Nightingale today too, I don’t know if you were already there when I played. My name's Y/N, by the way. You’re Graham, right?”

“I actually arrived when you were at the stage. And yes, I-I'm Graham, nice to meet you, Y/N.” he chuckles, giving you his entire attention after he shakes your hand. Turns out you’ve found a company on this lonely Saturday night. “You’re an awesome singer, I’m quite honored to hear that you enjoyed my show.”

It was now your turn to blush, and you playfully motion as if dismissing his comment. “You were something else. ‘In The Morning’? I think that was the name of the first song?” He nods, basking on the attention his work has gotten from a fellow artist, and you continue: “Your playing alone somehow sounded like 3 different guitars on that one. Don’t Believe Anything I Say was a favorite of mine too, what an earworm.”

“You remember the names.” He notes, genuinely surprised and… happy. “Your voice blew me away too. You… you were stellar.”

God knows how hard it is to make a name for yourself. Actually, to make people just pay attention to what you’re doing when you aren’t a commercially successful musician is really tough. You know how you feel when you’re complimented in that sense, and you’re shocked that Graham’s artistry has been ignored all this time. He truly deserves the praise, and you want to give it to him.

“Thank you, you’re too kind. I mean, how could I not remember the names of your songs? They’re fantastic. For how long you’ve been playing?” Your order arrives, and you eat your crisps while he talks about the role music has had in his life. His reveal that it’s just a hobby to him surprises you.

“And what do you do for a living?”

“I paint. I’m a visual artist.” He steals some of your chips. “I enjoy it just as much as I like to play, but only painting is putting money in my pocket. What about you?”

“I actually work at a bank, but I’m trying to make music my main job. Do you plan on changing careers in the future, or…?”

“Oh, no. I’m too old to be a rockstar.” He ruffles his hair, timidly. There was something about this man. He’s quirky and seemingly distrait at his absurd musical talent, you almost feel offended at what he says about himself.

He also has super broad shoulders and his arms are somehow really strong and his lips inviting but you push these thoughts to the back of your mind. He’s a total stranger, after all. An adorable and extremely talented stranger, but still a stranger.

“What the hell are you talking about? You’re awesome, bloody hell, I became a fan of yours just from that gig and music’s just a hobby to you. I imagine you’re bloody Da Vinci when painting.”

“I’m really not all that, I swear.” He laughs. "Something I found curious was that you only stuck to covers. Why is that?"

“Oh. You noticed.” You answer, a little embarrassed. “I’m still not that confident in my own material. I write songs, but… let’s say I trust my music taste way more for now.” He nods in understanding. “But before you lecture me though,” he chuckles at your energy as you continue ranting. “I know how important it is for me to sing my own songs, I’m just building up courage to do it. I still think they’re stupid.”

“The only way to find out is to play them. People make all sorts of faces. It’s like a thermometer.”

“It’s true.” You down some of your pint in hopes it gives you more stuff to talk about. “Which of my songs you liked the most?”

“Well, they’re not your songs,” he jokes, and you share a laugh.

“Shush. Go on,”

“But I quite enjoyed your rendition of that Fiona Apple song and Wild Time. Also your cover of Band on The Run was really great. Not everyone nails that one.”

“Thank you. Those were my favorites too.”

“But I’m looking forward to seeing you again with your own material. Blend them with the others, depending on who you were influenced by, they’ll fit right in.”

“You’re right. Thanks for the words of wisdom, Graham.”

“No problem.” He pauses for an instant. “You’re a regular here, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I’m here with my friends every Saturday night, but they all cancelled on me last minute. Some of them went to see me play, at least.”

“Huh. That’s rare enough. You were lucky.”

“I know. Did... anyone you know... come to see you?” You know what you were trying to ask him, and he knew too.

“Um… Someone used to.”

“What happened?”

“We weren’t exactly right for each other.” he smiled wistfully. “Did someone other than your friends… see you?”

“Not really, no.”

A comfortable silence hangs between you two, as both of you share some shy smiles. A song by The Smiths starts playing in the background, and that’s enough to get the gear of a nice talk running once again. You really liked this man. Gradually, he talks more about himself, and also learns so much about you in the span of a few hours.

As you feel more comfortable and used to his presence, you allow the back of your hand to brush against his a few times as you pick up your food. You give no indication you noticed the weight of his gaze, and you feel the butterflies fluttering on your belly. After eating and having a few more drinks, you were out on the sidewalk.

There's nothing you loved more than the aftermath of afternoon storms. The earthy scent that permeates the city's dusk while its lights are reflecting off the wet asphalt, the mysterious aura that hovers over every street is something that really speaks to your senses, in a way. You also loved how those lights now reflected in Graham’s eyes. He offers to walk you home - after you tell him where you live he agrees it’s indeed not very far. Those who walk past you might think you’ve been friends for years.

As he walks you up to your door, you feel he’s reluctant to say goodbye. And so are you.

And the inevitable question escapes from your lips.

“Will I see you again?”

“I… I hope so.” He answers, somewhat relieved you asked. “Whenever you feel like it. And… whenever you’re free, of course.”

“I’d love to. Actually… Graham, if you can, of… of course, I-I want you to stay tonight.”

He blinks, as if the invite went completely over his head. You giggle, and make your intent more clear. “Gosh, don’t make me repeat myself. I want you to come inside.”

“Inside, yes,” he blushes, his eyes shining. He reacts like a flustered, yet excited, teenager. “Of course. I want to stay too, then.”

You were definitely not expecting to bring someone home tonight, so your flat is a cozy mess you try to conceal as coyly as you can. You show him to the couch, and after handing him another beer, you go to the kitchen to fiddle with your temperamental oven to try and get it to warm up enough to cook a frozen pizza. While you wait for it to cook, you stand in the balcony, watching him from afar still wondering about the courage you mustered to bring him home.

His eyes met yours, and there it was, that cute, easy smile of his again. He sighs, as if silently asking what was going to happen next. And you answer. “I barely ate anything today because I was so nervous I was finally playing on The Nightingale. I know we ate already but I’m still hungry, sorry for being anticlimactic.”

“Don’t worry.” He looks around, a little nervous. I guess that’s a first for him too, you think. “Cute place.”

“I recently moved so there’s still a lot to unpack, but I haven’t had the time.”

Small talk ensues, and after you finally eat what you need, you share the couch with him - in a somewhat of a bold move, but just to show how comfortable you feel around him, you place your head over his shoulder. His arms fall over yours.

“Thanks for not letting me spend my Saturday night alone.” You murmur, positioning yourself so your face is closer and facing his. He tends to speak with his brown eyes - which are now cast on your mouth. He answers by very calmly slipping his hands below your ears, making you shiver, and pulling you to a tender kiss.

Then he says, “Thank you for having me.”

He kisses you fully now as you arch into him. His hands are now inside of your coat, teasing to take it off, but before they explore your skin further than your sides, he asks if they can, if you’re comfortable with going all the way. You nod, positively impatient. After a few more heated moments of kisses, you now find yourself on your back, with just your bra and jeans on, his weight on top of you as his lips travel down your jawline and your neck. His fingers run tantalizingly through the hem of your high-waisted jeans. “Planning on taking that off any time soon?” he whispers.

“I was afraid you might think I was going too fast if I went any further, actually,” you giggle. “Do the honors.”

“My pleasure.”

After he takes it off you, he pulls you closer to him, your bare skin against his still very clothed one, and you wrap your legs around his waist, once again trying to be as near and physically intimate with him as possible. He seemed to want that too, slowly rocking his hips against yours, groaning softly. “Please get rid of those too,” You whine, voice slightly breathy, tugging lightly at his striped shirt. Your wish is his command.

Now that he’s shirtless, if he was already an eyeful to you before, you absolutely can’t take your eyes off his body now. He’s surprisingly fit for his age, though that wasn’t something you were particularly meticulous about. You were aching for him, painfully wet, and your anticipation was almost tangible in the air you shared - he detected it, apparently, and you hear the slightest waver in his voice when he adjusts himself to slowly begin stroking you over your underwear. “Tell me if I’m going too hard.” The softness of his voice made you shiver. You nodded, not intending to tell him anything of the sort as you pressed yourself harder into the soft pads of his fingers, gradually picking up speed. In a few more moments, you were worked up enough to nearly panting.

You pull your panties to the side and guide his hand to your heat directly. His other hand lifts your chin. “You want to see my face while you touch me, right?” you asked, voice smokey. He huffed gently, eyes darting away, a light blush spreading on his cheeks while your breath starts to falter. You don’t know what does it, exactly – the slow and deliberate circling on your clit, the lingering over skin that makes you whimper your pleasure, or the gentle flick of a finger over the small bead of nerve endings, but suddenly everything is blurry starbursts and your body is spasming with the intensity of your orgasm.

You let out a sound that’s hallway between a whimper and a sigh as reality blurs back into your consciousness. As you come down from your high, you try to say something but your voice doesn’t seem to be working quite yet, so instead you shut your eyes and let out a long breath. That had been intense. You wonder what Graham has in store for you next.

His finger then enters you without warning and your hips buck involuntarily into the penetration. You clench around him, gnawing at your bottom lip as he eased his finger in and out of you. You closed your eyes and shuddered at how good it felt. He pushed two in deep and crooked his fingers. You felt a flush of new heat radiate from your middle. “Don’t stop,” you whispered, shakily, and sank into it.

“I don’t intend to.” He coos as he presses the pads of his fingers against the walls of your pussy. Involuntarily, you made this needy guttural sound you’d never heard from yourself before. You wanted to ask what he was doing to you. While it felt good, it was different. There was a new kind of tension now. It wasn’t like your first climax. This was hot and urgent and taut like a fist clenching. You writhed on the couch and mewled for something.

Feeling you were close once again, he abruptly stops his movements - that fucker! - to your clear dissatisfaction - and rids himself of the rest of his clothes. His size intimidates you a bit, but you were determined to make it work. Once his hips are adjusted to meet yours once again and he puts on protection, after a few more kisses and a few more hard breaths, he is inside you, hands not leaving your clit this time as the eager hips of both of you started to settle into a cohesive pace.

"So fucking tight," he breathes. Your fingers dig into his skin as he's getting faster and more urgent with every thrust. His breathing is ragged and his eyes are half closed, and you tilt your face up and kiss him sloppily. There is no possibility for precision. Your bodies are rocking back and forth together too quickly for that. He grabs your ass, drinking in the moans he pulls out of you. "Come on my cock, baby, touch yourself for me," He murmurs into your ear, teeth grazing the lobe. Your attempt at a reply is cut off by another moan, pleasure overriding your senses.

He isn’t going to last very long, not if he keeps fucking you like his sole purpose is tearing you apart. And neither will you, as one of your hands goes to your clit and moves in sync with his hard thrusts. You want to tell him that you're about to come, but you can’t, you can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone coherent phrases, so you tighten the hand that’s gripping his arm tight and you press a bruising kiss to his lips while you clench around him, hoping it’s enough. Seconds after, judging by the way his breath falters and his pace becomes slightly more mechanical before it slows down and stops, you guess that has done it for him too. You stay some long minutes in that position after you're both done, completely spent.

He pulls out of you after he gives your forehead a small kiss. "That was amazing." He smiles, voice still a little breathy. "You're incredible in every way."

"So are you, and I didn't even know about that talent of yours."

"Got some more time for me to show you the rest of them?"

"Definitely."

#graham coxon #graham coxon x reader #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #blur #blur band #graham x reader

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

Text

Four times he told them you were a friend and once he said you were his girlfriend

So this is sort of kind of what was requested, but I just did the same thing with Quinn Hughes and this idea came to me, so I hope you like this! Anyway it’s 2 am and I haven’t read through this so if there are typos ignore them (or point them out then maybe I’ll actually fix them).

This is the LONGEST thing I’ve written as one solid piece (it’s around 6.6k words, which I’ve never done before so that’s fun).

But keep supporting BLM, keep supporting organizations like GLSEN, just be a good person. Ok cool, you’re all great people, don’t worry.

______________

“Ok, hot guys at ten o’clock,” Ashley starts shaking your arm, sending your drink spilling all over your hand.

“Watch it!” you say, trying to steady the drink before you waste six dollars of beer, “Which ones, there’s like eight guys over there.” She can’t stop staring at the group of guys, all of them wearing very similar outfits of plain, tight-fitting t-shirts that show off their obviously fit bodies and a pair of jeans, ranging from light wash to black. A man’s wardrobe was a mystery.

“I want to go talk to them,” she says.

“Then go talk to them,”

“You’re coming with me.”

“Ash, why would I go talk to a group of boys when I’m here with Nick?”

“Because he’s not your boyfriend, you’re just fucking him and he is a hundred percent talking to other girls right now, so what’s the harm of flirting with another guy?” You exhale, knowing that she was right. As soon as you got to the bar, Nick left you to get drinks and you found him thirty minutes later without a drink for you and talking to a pretty redhead about who knows what. “You know I’m right. And that one has been checking you out anyway. Worst case you get a free drink or two and never see the boy again.”

You make eye contact with the curly-haired boy Ashley mentioned. He was pretty beautiful, and you had to admit that you melted a little when he smiled at you “Fine, let’s go,” you say, rolling your eyes as she squealed and dragged you over to the guys.

“Is it a common habit of yours to just stare at a girl before she succumbs and comes over to you or do you ever make the first move?” you say, standing in front of the curly-haired boy.

“Normally I would go up to them but I guess you beat me to it. And it looks like your friend already has her hold on Noah, so I guess both of you are pretty ambitious,” he says, nodding over to Ashley, who is already dragging Noah to the bar with her probably so they can get drunk together.

“Yeah, that seems right. Plus he’s hot, so I’d probably do the same,” you shrug as the boy moves over and motions for you to sit down. “So if that’s Noah, who are you?”

“I don’t know if I should tell you if you just called my friend hot and not me,” he jokes, leaning in a little closer, but Hanny is a pretty beautiful man so I’m not too offended. I’m Matthew.”

You can’t help but laugh at him; the amount of confidence he had in calling his friend beautiful was refreshing, Nick would be weird about it and start trying to make jokes that were never funny. You tell him your name and just start talking with him. There was something there between the two of you, but you were technically with Nick. But like Ashley said, what was the harm of flirting a little bit?

“So why are you here tonight?” Matthew asks you, getting up and leading you to the bar.

“One of my friends landed his dream job so we came to celebrate,” you tell him, motioning over to the group of boys standing at the other end of the bar.

“Which friend, I’ll buy him a drink,” he offers.

“The one next to that guy with the redhead draped over him.”

“Do you know him? They’re talking to each other.”

“Yeah, the girl is holding my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” he asks, nearly spitting out his beer. You didn’t seem like the type of girl who would try to cheat on her boyfriend, especially with him standing right there, and he really didn’t want to be involved in any sort of weird sexcapades with a girl he just met.

“Sort of, kind of, not really. We’re hooking up and we like each other, I think, but clearly we can hook up with other people. Or at least, he can hook up with other people,” you say, feeling weirdly sad all of a sudden. Of course, you liked Nick, how could you not? He was sweet, smart, funny, he was there for you when you needed him, but damn as soon as a girl looked at him the right way it was like you weren’t there until you called for him. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you that. You just seem like someone I can tell things to.”

“I’ve gotten that before. Then my dad says that I have a face that you can’t help but want to punch, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you swung that way, too,” he says, laughing, the curls on his head bouncing along with him, “But can I give you some advice?”

“Sure, why not?” you say, making eye contact with Nick, him flashing a cute smile and waving at you.

“If you both liked each other and you want to be together, which at least, you want to be, then you need to say something sooner rather than later to him. You’re pretty cool, and you deserve someone that makes you happy. Right now it seems like it’s him,” he says, nodding over to where to Nick was, the redhead sending daggers in your direction.

Before you know it, Nick’s arms are finding their way around your waist, him kissing your cheek before nestling his chin on your shoulder. “Hey, who’s this?” he asks.

“A new friend,” Matthew says, smiling at you.

Your phone buzzed with a text saying that he was ready to leave, even though you still needed another five minutes before you could even think about getting your shoes on. You dial him quickly, praying he doesn’t take long to pick up the phone as you throw it on speaker and run around your room trying to find the jewelry you wanted to wear. “You’re coming up here and helping me finish getting ready unless you want to wait another twenty minutes minimum. The doors open just come to my room,” you spit out at him before he even has the chance to finish saying ‘hello.’

You hear him mumbling something on the other end as he slams the door to his apartment to make his way to yours. By coincidence, he lived four floors above you, allowing for easy access when both of you had free time to just sit and watch a movie, or for nights like these when you were struggling to finish getting ready for the night.

“I’m here!” you hear Matthew call from the living room, walking to your room. “I cannot have the guys chirping me for being late tonight, especially when I got the time wrong last time and showed up an hour in,” he says, walking into your room. “You’re a mess.”

Your hair and makeup were done, but your dress was still unzipped due to your lack of flexibility to zip it, your necklace that you were going to wear was somewhere in the room but you had no idea where it would be, and you still had no clue what shoes you were going to wear. “Which is why you’re here so I can be less of a mess. Come here and zip me up, then pick out shoes for me to wear. Please? Please, please, please?” you beg.

He shakes his head and can’t help but laugh at how frazzled you can get when you’re on a time crunch. “You’re lucky I like you enough to even bring you to this event,” he says, doing as you ask. You could feel yourself tensing up as he slowly brought the zipper up, his hand at the bottom holding the zipper straight. You turn around to him, goosebumps all over you as you get a good look at him in his suit. Damn was he handsome. “Are you sure that Nick is alright with me taking you to this thing?”

“As long as I don’t hook up with anyone, he really doesn’t care. It’s not like any of you guys are a threat to our relationship, anyway,” you say as you try to find this necklace.

Matthew couldn’t help but feel a little upset over that comment. He loved that you were happy while dating Nick, and he genuinely seemed like a great guy for you, but part of him wondered what it would be like if you were together. “Well, a lot of them are already taken anyway, so unless there are a lot of strange single men roaming around the Flames Casino Night, I think you’re safe.” He picks up a pair of shoes for you to wear, praying that they actually go with your outfit and don’t kill your feet, something you had complained to him about during multiple nights out. Apparently, asking why you had shoes that hurt your feet was a dumb thing to do.

“Perfect!” you say, taking the shoes from him, trying to get them on without having to sit down. “And I found the necklace, so once this is on and I find where I put my bag, we’re good to go.”

“What could you possibly be bringing with you that you need a bag?” he groans, knowing that you were going to make them late.

“Keys, money, ID, lipstick for reapplying, tissues,” you start to list off as he rolls his eyes. “Ok, fine. But I don’t have pockets to hold things, so I need a bag.”

“I can hold the keys, money, and ID if you say you don’t need the other things and we can just go.”

“But what about my phone, I don’t want to hold it all night.”

He takes the stuff you hand him, grabbing your hand and dragging you out the door. “I have big enough pockets, don’t worry. These aren’t like female pockets where you could basically hold a penny and worry about it falling out.”

“That is not my fault and you had to know that was going to start a feminist rant from me as soon as you said it,” you start as you get into the Uber that was somehow already waiting for you outside. He laughs as you start going off about the sexist issues in women’s fashion, something he has heard more than enough times. At this point, he could probably recite the rant back to you word for word.

He listened to you better than Nick did; sure Nick listened, but when you talked to Matthew it was like he hung onto every word, trying to remember every detail down to how your eyebrow cocked as you said each sentence. Nick normally was just mentally undressing you until he could actually undress you. Not that you weren’t happy with Nick, but you couldn’t really help but wonder if you should be with Matthew or if he really was just your best friend.

Your rant lasted the entire ride to the event, Matthew doing everything in his power not to laugh at how passionate you were about stuff like this. He knew that you wanted to spend your life making a difference, and it helped that you were able to dive into an issue and find a reason to fix it.

“Ok, so you don’t have to play any of the games, the drinks I think are free for the most part but as we know I can be wrong an have been wrong before, and if you want your money, not to sound like a weirdly protective boyfriend, just come and find me.” Matthew tells you as you get out of the car. You loved coming to these events, and Matthew’s inability to hold onto a girl for longer than a few weeks, and his overall lack of female friends meant that you got to come to all of the events as his date.

“If it’s not free I’ll just find the nearest hot man and flirt with him until he buys something for me, kind of like the night we met,” you joke, taking in the sights and sounds of the event around you. Everyone in the Flames organization was there and then some, so maybe that was a possibility.

“Actually, Nick bought you drinks once he noticed you talking to me, I never actually bought you anything,” he points out, a little bite in his tone.

“Ok, snippy,” you shoot back, “Have fun, I’ll be at the bar.” You leave his side just as Noah went over to him, working your way through the crowd to the bar.

“There’s no way you already said something to piss her off, man. You just got here,” Noah says, dragging Matthew by the arm over to one of the tables.

“She brought up the night we met.”

“I still can’t believe that you convinced her to go for that guy instead of just asking her out yourself. What’s his name, Mick?”

“It’s Nick. How many people do you know named Mick?”

“Not the point.”

“Ok, fine. I didn’t ask her out because I saw how she looked at him. And she called him her boyfriend.”

“Which he wasn’t. And you could have been. She looks at him the way she looks at me, and as far as I know, I’m not her boyfriend. But I’ve seen how you look at each other. She sees you differently.” Noah pats him on the back, leaving him at the Blackjack table to fend for himself. He looks up to you, a guy with his back towards him leaning against the bar talking to you. You make eye contact and roll your eyes at him, biting your lip signaling that this guy was a total dud.

“Is that your girlfriend?” the stranger next to Matthew asks him, following his gaze to you. “She’s hot.”

“Nope, just a friend.”

III

“Who is this that’s getting married today?” you ask Matthew from the bathroom of the hotel room you were sharing with him, Brady and Taryn.

“A family friends daughter, I think her name is Isabella?” Brady answers instead, throwing an apple in the air and trying to catch it, only for Matthew to jump and snatch it before he can.

“Boys!” you yell as they start to wrestle each other for it. “Come on, if either of you leave this hotel room with a black eye we all know that your parents are going to assume it’s Matthew’s fault and then none of us can go to the reception.”

“Sorry,” they both mumble, Matthew handing back the apple to Brady.

“I like her. Please keep her around. I need more feminine energy when I’m around you two,” Taryn says from behind you, both of you fixing your hair in the mirror.

“Why did you get to bring a date and I couldn’t?” Brady asks his brother, you and Taryn rolling your eyes.

“Because the girls you know wouldn’t be able to pay their way and Y/N has an actual job with an actual income so I wouldn’t have to foot her bill.”

“I thought you did get a plus one and you just had no one to bring?” you yell to them, Taryn trying not to burst out laughing.

“You’re not even Matthew’s girlfriend!” Brady protests, Matthew’s face getting red.

Brady knew that he liked you; the first time the family met you, he had picked up on it right away. Taryn had a feeling something was going on, but she wasn’t about to poke fun at Matthew for it like Brady would.

“I’m a girl who’s a friend which is more than what you have apparently,” you fire back, causing Brady’s face to turn red in return.

“Are you two almost done?: Matthew whines, checking his watch. He was the one in charge of getting the four of you to the wedding, and if you were late, he was definitely getting yelled at for it.

“Yeah, yeah, we know, we need to hurry up. The wedding starts in an hour and it’s a five minute walk down the street and from the sounds of it, your parents haven’t even left either, so you can wait the few seconds it’s going to take us to finish getting ready,” you say, coming out of the bathroom to get your shoes on. As soon as Matthew saw you, he felt himself stop breathing. Any time you were dressed up he got that way. He felt that way when he saw you for every charity event, yet he never told you, he felt that way when you met that night at the bar. Damn, he hated the friend zone.

“Yeah,” Taryn says, following you out and plopping down on the bed beside you to get her shoes on. “What?” Taryn says when her brothers shoot her weird looks, “She said everything, why can’t I just agree with her?”

The four of you make your way down to the lobby of the hotel to start on your way to the wedding venue. It was at a different hotel than the one you were staying at, down the street as you walked through the center of Chicago. You all look great walking down the street as Brady let the way with Taryn by his side. You and Matthew were a few paces behind, your feet already hurting from the shoe that you knew you were going to take off as soon as you got to the reception.

A guy catcalls you, something you just ignore as Matthew yells, “That’s my girlfriend,” at the guy as he pulling you in by the waist, glaring at the guy as you walk by.

All you can do is roll your eyes at both of them. Matthew still wasn’t used to girls being hit on in the streets by guys, so whenever you were out with him, any girl who was hit on in an unwanted manner suddenly was his girlfriend until the man was out of sight.

“Thanks,” you say, Taryn and Brady waiting for you outside the door of the hotel as Matthew drops his arm from your waist, praying that neither of them saw you keep it there longer than he needed to.

“She has a boyfriend, remember,” Brady whispers to his brother as he lets you and Taryn in before them.

“Don’t you think I know that? I would do that for anyone,” Matthew hisses back.

“Do you look as comfortable with them as you did with her?”

“Shut up, Brady.”

“Yeah, shut up, Brady,” Taryn says, causing you to burst out laughing. Taryn was probably your favorite of the three Tkachuks, but you could never tell Matthew that.

“You don’t even know what we were talking about?” Brady says, confused.

“I don’t have to know to tell you to shut up.”

“If any of you kill each other, it’s not my fault,” you say, grabbing Matthew and going to find seats.

Brady and Taryn follow each other, his parents finding you not long after. They still didn’t know you very well other than as Matthew’s ‘best friend that isn’t a hockey player.’ You sit with them through the wedding, your leg shaking for no reason other than the fact that you’ve always had a hard time staying still. Matthew lays his hand on your thigh to try to calm you down, which worked a little, only for you to start shaking the other leg.

“Can you stop?” Matthew whispers to you, a smile on his face and his hand still on your thigh. You can feel his dad looking at the scene unfolding, his eyebrow raised like he does whenever Matthew does something that catches his eye.

“Physically, no. You should know that by now,” you whisper back, Brady shushing you so he can pretend to listen to what was going on.

You sit through the rest of the wedding, not noticing that Matthew’s hand is still on your thigh. He knew he had it there, though. His entire family say it there. Matthew couldn’t focus on what was being said in front of him as Isabella got married to whoever the hell Oliver was in her life. You had a boyfriend. Nick was still in the picture. You two had just celebrated your two year anniversary a little while ago, which means that you and Matthew had met a little over two years ago, too. He was well aware of when it was, but to you, it seemed like it didn’t matter. The last two years made it feel like you had known him forever, so who cared?

“I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride!” whoever was giving the wedding said, everyone around you cheering as you stood up and Matthew finally took his hand off your thigh to clap along with everyone else.

“Is it bad that the only thing that I really want from this wedding is the open bar?” Matthew leans over to you, praying that his parents don’t hear him because they’ll scold him for it.

“No, because that is exactly where I will be for the night,” you say as everyone starts heading to the room where the reception is.

“So, wait, you haven’t talked about you and Nick in a while. How are things going with that? He’s alright with you coming as my date to this, right?” Matthew says, leaning against the bar.

“Uh, he thinks that I’m visiting Ashley in Winnipeg,” you say, hating that you admit that you were lying to your boyfriend about where you were this weekend.

“Why would he think that?” All of Matthew knew this was a bad thing: lately, Nick seemed to be getting upset with you about how much time you had been spending with him in your apartments rather than going out with Nick to a bar every single weekend.

“Because he would get pretty mad at me if I told him that I was with you in another country for a wedding.”

“You didn’t have to come with me if you didn’t want to. You know that I don’t want you to feel like you have to come with me to stuff, especially if it’s going to cause problems with you and Nick,” he says, not making eye contact with you.

“He’s not allowed to tell me that I can’t be friends with you. If he has an issue with it, then he needs to say something about it,” you say as the bartender comes over to you and takes your drink order.

“But then why did you lie?”

“I didn’t want to come to the wedding just going through a breakup, because he would a hundred percent dump me if I told him I was with you right now.”

“Y/N/N. If he’s like that then why don’t you just dump him? I mean, you’re amazing. But a guy shouldn’t have to control who you spend time with in order to see that,” he says, his hand finding your arm.

“Aw, I love you, Matty,” you tell him, putting your hand on his. The bartender comes back with your drink, you taking it and turning towards the rest of the wedding, “I’m going to go get food. I’ll see you at the table?”

Matthew nods, watching you walk away. The bartender, doing the same thing says, “You’re a lucky man,”

“Sorry?”

“To have someone like her as a girlfriend?”

“Oh, no. She’s just my friend.”

Ice cream? Check. No romance movies in sight? Check. A big bottle of wine that you were planning on drinking without a glass? Check. Snuggled in your favorite hoodie that you may or may not have stolen from Matthew? Check.

You turn on Dead Poets Society, the only movie you can think of that doesn’t have more than ten minutes of romance so that you don’t start crying over the fact that you just dumped Nick a little over a week ago, even though it had been coming for a long time. You came back from the wedding with Matthew to find that Nick had been following your location on Snapchat and saw that you were in the States and not in Winnipeg. You got into a huge fight, ending it by screaming, “I would rather be with Matthew than with you, so we’re done,” and you storming out of his place and driving back to yours sobbing. The only person you had told so far was Matthew, and you were still, for some reason upset about it. Probably because you wasted more than two years of your life on the wrong person when you could have been with the one your friends told you to be with the entire time.

Robin Williams is having his students recite lines of poetry and then kick the ball as hard as they can when a picture of you and Matthew being slightly drunk idiots at the wedding pops up on your phone.

“What?” you answer, angry that your sad-fest was being interrupted by him.

“You’re too pretty to be sitting at home alone and single on a Saturday night. I’m coming over in twenty minutes with a pizza and the two of us are going out,” he says on the other end, hanging up before you can say otherwise. You did say you would rather spend your time with Matthew instead of Nick, so why not start now?

But that didn’t mean you were going to be moving from the couch until he came, it was early enough that you didn’t need to start getting ready until after you ate.

On cue, Matthew starts banging on your door, yelling for you to let him in. “You can’t wear my sweatshirt out tonight,” he says, walking past you and plopping down on the couch.

“I’m getting dressed after we eat, calm down,” you say, taking a piece of pizza and shoving it in your mouth.

“Hey, I know you’re upset, which is why we’re going out tonight to get your mind off him Plus, one, he was a jackass, two, he was controlling, and three, it’s my fault anyway,” Matthew says, his eyes not leaving the pizza.

“How is it your fault?”

He looks at you, his curls moving slightly as he turned his head faster than you were expecting, “You were fighting because you were lying about spending time with me, and I’m the one who encouraged you to be with him in the first place. And I have been kicking myself for that every day since,” the last part he mutters under his breathe, you not even catching that he said it.

“I should have broke it off with him when he started getting mad about who I was spending time with. He was never mad about me spending time with Ashley, he just didn’t want me spending time with you. He was jealous of you.”

“Me? Why?” His heart was racing. Guys maybe dumb on the outside, but they know when another guy is into their girl, even if they don’t act on it.

“He always thought that you liked me, or something,” you say, laughing as you bight into the pizza. Maybe a part of you always liked him, too. You finish the piece, taking another one to bring to your room so you can start getting ready. “I’ll be back in like twenty minutes? Do I need to put on makeup, do you think?”

“How much do you care and how long will it take?”

“Not enough and too long.”

“Then no.”

“Sweet,” you say, going to your room with the pizza hanging out of your mouth. You get ready in what was probably record time, throwing on a crop top and jeans, your hair in a ponytail and just putting on mascara instead of doing a full face of makeup. “I need another piece before we go get drunk,” you tell him, throwing your bag down and taking another piece.

“I was planning on finishing this entire thing and then leaving, so hurry up, there are two more pieces.”

“One for you, one for me?” you suggest, reaching for the piece. You were already feeling better, seeing that he put away the ice cream for you, leaving the bottle of wine out in case you wanted to drink it, even though he had already been drinking from the bottle while you were getting ready. None of you cared, you just knew that it meant he would be buying you a drink tonight.

You both down the pizza, bringing the box with you on the way down to the Uber, excited to go out and just forget about Nick. “Where are we going?” you ask Matthew. He ordered the Uber, only telling you that it was somewhere you had been before.

“It’s only fitting that we go back to the last bar you went to as a single woman now that you are, again, a single woman,” Matthew says, getting you out of the car in front of the bar you met at. You can’t help at how excited he was to be there, you actually hadn’t been to that bar since that night you met Matthew. The two of you beeline to the bar, Matthew ordering you a drink.

“So, this is going on your tab since you drank my wine, right?” you say, him rolling his eyes at you.

“That bottle was so big, there was no way could have noticed that!” he let’s out.

“Don’t mess with a girl and her wine.”

He rolls his eyes again, pulling you in for a hug and kissing your head. “You’re gonna make some guy really lucky,” he laughs, as you smile and rest your head on his shoulder.

“Here’s for you,” the bartender says, coming back with two drinks and handing the first one to Matthew, “and here’s for your girlfriend?”

“Nah, just a friend,” he says, smiling at you as you playfully shove him. ‘Friends for now,’ he thinks to himself.

+one

Thank god he gave you his debut card or else this would not be an order you could afford on your own. Plus, it was his family that was flying in; when he met your family, you paid for the baked goods. His family was just bigger and more anxious so come see him since he was spending the summer here in Calgary with you instead of at home with them like he normally does.

“Hi, sweetie,” one of the older ladies who works at the bakery says when she sees you waiting, “Your usual for you and Matthew?”

Part of you hated that you had a usual order there, but the other part of you simply didn’t care that you frequented a local business enough that they know you. “Not today, actually. Matthew called in an order earlier in the week for pick up? It should be under his name.”

She goes into the back where they keep the orders, “Tkachuk?” she calls out, as you reach to take the order.

As your hand reaches to get the box, someone else goes for it, too. “Oh, sorry!” you say before seeing who it is. “Mr. Tkachuk, how are you?”

“Hi, Y/N, how are you doing? And come on, I’ve told you to call me Keith,” Matthew’s dad insists.

“I’m good, uh, Keith, I’m actually picking up this stuff for you guys tonight,” you say, gesturing to the large boxes of pastries Matthew had apparently ordered. You had no idea what he got, but all you know is if he didn’t have the lemon meringue mini pie that you loved, you were throwing hands. The other thing you knew was that Matthew’s parents and siblings were in Calgary to meet his new girlfriend. They knew he had been dating her for a while, that she lived with him, and that they already knew her. They didn’t know you were her.

“And here I am ordering stuff Chantal insisted we bring for you guys tonight. I know what Matthew loves, but what about his girlfriend, do you know her? What does she like?” he asks, squinting at the hand-written over head menu.

“Uh, yeah, I know her pretty well. She loves the lemon meringue mini pies. It’s kind of a coin toss as to whether or not Matthew remembers to order them for her.”

“That boy,” Keith says, shaking his head, “Guess he’s not going to be with this girl for that long if he can’t even think enough to get something she loves.”

You feel yourself not breathing at what he just said. Shit. Does he mean that Matthew doesn’t care enough about you to remember something as simple as a dessert that you like or that you would get fed up with it and end up breaking up with him. “Um, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” you say, trying to stop your voice from shaking. You’ve met his family plenty of times; but them not knowing you were officially dating was keeping you on the edge.

“Are you walking over to Matthew’s place or did you drive?” Keith says, not taking his eyes off of the case full of desserts.

“I walked, but I still have some other stuff to pick up while Matthew gets dinner finished,” you tell him, trying to inch your way towards the door without seeming overly rude.

“Alright then, we’ll see you at Matthew’s,” Keith says, still not looking up. Thank god, because the amount you were probably sweating would have been a little suspicious.

On your way out, you call Matthew. “Hey, babe, what’s up?” he says on the other end, the sound of pans clattering in the background. “Ah, fuck.”

“What did you drop?” you say, knowing him well enough.

“One of the pans, what else did it sound like?” he says.

“Was there food in it?” you ask. Nothing but silence from his end for a solid five seconds before you start, “What do I need to pick up on my way home now?”

“More sweet potatoes,” he says in a small voice, “Oh, and more Brussel sprouts.”

“You dropped both?” you say, going into the grocery store, arms already dull of the pastries. You really didn’t think this through with the walking and how much you were going to have to carry.

“No, I just already ate most of the sprouts and my mom said she was looking forward to them.”

You can’t help but laugh at him. A tough guy on the ice, but dear lord was he a child when it came to so much else. “Your dad didn’t mention anything about that when I saw him.”

“When did you see him?” he asks, another thing hitting the floor in the background, “Fuck! Can you get more cinnamon, too?”

“Ok, babe, you need to close things after you’re done with them so if they fall on the floor they don’t spill everywhere. And I just ran into him at the bakery, they should be on their way soon,” you tell him, picking out the vegetables he wanted.

“Good, my mom can help me clean then,” he lets out. “But what did my dad say, he normally puts his foot in his mouth without trying to.”

“Well, he asked me what your girlfriend would want for dessert and then said that if you can’t remember to get her what she likes then the relationship would be ending sooner rather than later.”

“Hey, that was one time I forgot to get you a lemon meringue pie and that was because I went when you were literally on the way to the airport for that conference,” he defends himself, making you laugh again. You probably looked like a maniac since you had your AirPods in with your hair covering your ears, but this was probably a normal scene in today’s society anyway. “But, hey, you’ve moved in already. I’m in this for the long haul, buttercup.”

You can’t help but smile when he says that as you try to check out by balancing the desserts in one hand while trying to find your wallet with the other. “Buttercup? There’s a whole world of pet names and NHL tough guy Matthew Tkachuk chooses ‘buttercup?’”

“Fine, then your nickname is...” he hesitates, “Garlic Powder.”

On your way back home, you stop out of shock from what he just said, “You really just opened the cabinet above the stove and called me the first thing you saw, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” he says, again in a small voice. In the background, you can hear someone trying to get in to come up to us, hopefully, his family. “The rest of the Tkachuks are here, how far away are you?”

“I’m a block away, so I’ll be there soon.”

“Alright, see you soon. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

He hangs up, leaving you to walk back the rest of the way with just your thoughts. He’s in this for the long haul, but a father knows his son. On the other hand, it’s not like he pulls stuff like that all the time; that really was just one time and he’s made up for it in more ways than one.

You get to your building, mentally cursing the fact that you didn’t ask him to have someone wait to help you bring the stuff up. Trying to balance everything was going to end worse than Matthew in the kitchen, but he insisted on cooking for his family as you finally told them you were dating.

“Hi!” you say, struggling to open the door as Brady rushes to you and starts taking the boxes from you. “Thanks, Brady.”

“We thought you would be the girlfriend,” he admits, following you into the kitchen where Matthew is with his mom, still cleaning up the cinnamon from the floor.

“Don’t worry, you already know her.”

“Oh, really?” Brady questions. Matthew had been keeping his girlfriend a secret for a while, but he had his suspicions as to who it was for a while regardless.

“Dinner’s ready!” Chantal calls, her and Matthew bringing the food from the kitchen over to the table.

“I guess we’re having the sweet potatoes another time?” you ask Matthew, a little annoyed that you had to make the extra trip.

“They brought some with them and they’re in the oven now? As soon as they came in my mom goes, ‘You always knock something over, so we figured we’d bring vegetables with us.’ Taryn couldn’t keep a straight face,” Matthew says, visibly upset by this.

You roll your eyes and bring him in for a hug, his entire family out of sight as he kisses you on the top of your head. “They just know you well.” You steal a quick kiss, him following you over to the table where his family is already helping themselves to the food he had made.

“So, where is this girlfriend of yours?” Keith asks, eying both of you. It’s very possible they already knew you were dating; there were six places set and they probably figured out that you were staying for dinner.

“Well, Y/N is my girlfriend, now.” Matthew says, bringing you in for a side hug.

“I thought you were dating at the wedding?” Keith asks, “You had your hand on her leg the entire time, and it was pretty obvious something was going on.”

“Uh, no, that was a year ago, we’ve been together for about eight months now?” you say, looking at him. He shrugged it off, wanting to pretend that he had no idea. But he knew it was eight months, two weeks and a day since he asked you to be his girlfriend.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #calgary flames #calgary flames imagines #flames #flames imagine #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #noah hanifin #brady tkachuk #both of them are mentioned so leave me alone #who actually reads my tags anyway?

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rockandroobuckaroll · 3 years

Text

Shyan Mafia Au - Chapter Two

I was very excited to write this chapter, less so when it came to proof reading. It’s a long one haha

Thanks to everyone who said they enjoyed the first chapter, I hope this story lives up to your expectations!

There was a pounding in Ryan's head as he slowly regained consciousness, pain splitting across his temple and tapering down his spine. He pulled his head up with great effort and winced, opening his eyes slowly to see that he was tied to the spare chair he was intending on using against 'Legs' in case things went wrong with the metal pole.

Now he was tied up just like 'Legs', bound way too tight against something that was giving off heat. For a moment or two Ryan's panicking mind thought maybe he woke up just as he was being tortured, probably set on fire to leave no evidence behind. No one would find him if he was just ash and bones. The somewhat underused rational side of Ryan's mind informed him that it would probably hurt a lot more if he was, in fact, cooking like a shrimp that fell under the grill at a barbeque.

After further inspection Ryan found that the heat source also gave off the faint smell of alcohol along with a musky aftershave he was pretty sure he owned at home. It was also moving, Ryan flinching forwards as his head collided with whatever it was, groaning as the pain in his skull amplified considerably.

"Come on, man, you've already knocked me out once tonight. Please try not to do it a second time." It was 'Legs' and he didn't sound overjoyed to find Ryan bound against his back, his voice still sounded groggy, however now it seemed to be mixed with strain.

"Oh great..." Ryan wasn't too thrilled either though he was more concerned with the pulsing running through his skull with every frantic beat of his heart. "God, my head's killing me!"

"Yeah, feels like shit, doesn't it?" He muttered sarcastically to Ryan, spitting out blood afterwards as if to prove some sort of point. It didn't travel very far, in fact it pitifully just dribbled down his chin and landed straight in his lap. "That was supposed to look more badass." Ryan couldn't see what he had done so he wondered who he was talking to, though he assumed whoever had knocked him out was stood behind him and in front of 'Legs'.

Ryan tried his best to ignore him and instead took to looking around the room. Things were mostly how he left them, though he couldn't help but notice a dark patch on the floor beneath the two chairs. It didn't take a genius to recognise what it was, the glisten coming from the reflection of the bulb above them showing hints of a deep red - the same red that was stained in Ryan's mind. He closed his eyes and looked away for fear he would be sick if he looked at it any longer.

There wasn't much blood and it was closer to 'Legs' than it was Ryan but it still gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach as reality came crashing upon him. He was going to die here. He came here on a job that he knew could very well kill him, but he'd almost managed to pull it off; now thanks to his own carelessness he'd managed to get them both killed by some third psychopath. If only Ryan had remembered to lock the door.

"Good to see you awake, Ricky. Bloody Mary sends her thanks." A voice Ryan didn't recognise cut through the silence.

"Bloody Mary?" Ryan hadn't heard of that name before. "Wait, how do you know my name?" It dawned on Ryan that he may have been tracked from the second he landed in New Orleans, he hadn't exactly been careful.

"Me and Roberto had a lovely chat before you woke up." 'Legs' informed him. "I told him everything I know - which is nothing at all, so if you wouldn't mind letting me go now. I promise I'll forget this whole thing-" A gunshot pierced Ryan's ears, startling him so much he raised a good few inches off his seat. He saw the sparks fly off the wall in front of him: a warning shot.

"I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut?" The man sounded way more intimidating than Ryan could ever hope to be. Ryan assumed just talking in a smooth, low voice would be enough but evidently not. "You really don't shut up, do you?"

"That's what I've been saying..." Ryan scoffed under his breath.

"You got something to say, Ricky?" Ryan's whole body tensed up and his eyes widened. He hated how he found himself leaning back into 'Legs' slightly, as though being closer to him would give him comfort - it wasn't like he had just been trying to kill the guy or anything.

"No, sir!" Ryan's lip quivered as he spoke; he hadn't been this scared since the night his family died. "Sorry, sir!"

"Wow, you're such a tough guy." 'Legs' remarked, helping to ground Ryan in the strangest of ways. He found himself focusing on how someone could be so calm after having two people come for his life in the same night; the guy was tied to a chair and had a loaded gun pointed at him for fucks sake! It also helped him to think through the situation carefully, assess his best way out of this with his person still intact. "I can't believe this is the guy that brought me here! Can you believe this shit, Roberto?"

"You came here of your own free will, 'Legs'." Ryan reminded him in a shaky tone, terrified of the reality that he could get shot any second but still wanted to defend his honour.

"Yeah, 'cause I thought we were gonna... ah, y'know what, maybe we shouldn't discuss this in front of Roberto" 'Legs' cleared his throat, adjusting his position in his seat which caused the ropes to dig further into Ryan's chest.

"Stop moving around, asshole!" Ryan retaliated by nudging him with his elbow. It didn't hit very hard due to him not being able to move much but the satisfaction it gave Ryan was unmatched.

"I don't get paid enough for this shit... also I don't know where you got Roberto from, that's not my name. That's not even my nickname!" The man ranted, stalking around the two of them and entering Ryan's view so he could finally get a better look at him. He looked way too cliché for Ryan's liking, it was far too tasteless. He had the typical black suit, buttoned neatly with a grey tie beneath it and shoes that were shined so hard Ryan could see his own reflection in them. He had a red handkerchief folded neatly and peeking neatly out of his blazer pocket and, of course, he was wearing a fedora. Ryan felt this guy was trying to sell the look too hard, it was almost embarrassing to look at although as a person he wasn't that bad looking.

It took for Ryan to have the guy's pistol placed under his chin to stop judging his fashion choices and pay attention to what was happening. "I don't know what you're doing here, buddy, but you're getting in my way." He threatened, "We've been after 'Legs' for months... we finally get him right where we want him and you show up out of nowhere? Who are you, really? You from Chicago like him? Jersey maybe?"

"I'm not telling you anything!" Ryan only wished he sounded braver and not like a kid who'd lost his mom at a theme park. "Look, I was here to get rid of him too. We're on the same team here."

"Wow, thanks for having my back, pal." 'Legs' laughed to himself at his stupid joke - if he could even call it that. "Get it, 'cause you're-"

"Oh my god, 'Legs' shut the fuck up!" Ryan had his eyes closed as the man pressed the gun into his skin. "How the fuck are you making jokes right now? What is wrong with you?"

"Tell me what you're doing here and I'll think about letting you go." The man bargained, Ryan considering it. Selling out the mob of his home town wasn't something he could get away with easily. "If not... your brains'll end up painting the back of this guys big head."

"My head is proportional to my body I'll have you know." 'Legs' had a specific tone to his voice as if he'd had the conversation before. "It's not easy being this tall you know!"

"Can you please stop being so fucking casual about this!" Ryan practically begged 'Legs' to shut up, the comfort his stupid comments had once given him no longer there to protect him now that there was a loaded gun under his chin.

"You get used to this kind of thing, Ricky." Having his life threatened wasn't something he wanted to get used to. For the whole trip to New Orleans he had been questioning his decision to actually join a group of people known for their dangerous lifestyle. He knew his logic was flawed and that it was a reckless move, but he was desperate. In hindsight he knew that he really should have just took the plunge and reintroduced himself into the world, slowly reuniting with friends and family and maybe even his therapist. The mafia really should have been the very, very last resort.

"You better get used to talking too or else you'll have to get used to being dead." The man rushed Ryan for an answer.

"Okay... okay. I was sent here to kill him. I haven't been told what exactly for, but apparently he's been getting in a lot of people's bad books." Ryan tried to be as vague as possible, not wanting to give away the names of those who sent him. "I'm uh... I'm a hitman, I'm just here to take care of business, get paid then I'm out of here." Another half truth.

"Believable." 'Legs' muttered, Ryan losing his temper with him.

"Oh my god, dude, shut the fuck up!" Ryan attempted to elbow him again, putting his whole body weight into it. The result ended up with the two of them tumbling to the side, landing with a thud on the cold concrete floor.

"Fuck." 'Legs' winced, seemingly taking the blow harder than Ryan; although given that Ryan's face was now resting in a small puddle of blood he correctly assumed 'Legs' was pained for another reason. The both of them sighed at the same time, Ryan to steady his nerves and 'Legs' to ease his pain.

"You okay?" They both asked each other on instinct. There was a silence in the room for a second, nothing but the sound of a very aggravated mob guy at his wits end with the both of them. Any second now Ryan assumed he would get fed up with trying to get answers out of them and just shoot them both.

"Did you just ask me if I was okay?" Ryan couldn't believe 'Legs' was still considering his wellbeing, although his response wasn't as shocked as Ryan's was, in fact he sounded rather furious.

"Don't fucking ask me if I'm okay when this is all your fault!" He spoke through gritted teeth.

"Man, if you'd have just shut up I'd have killed you by now! You wouldn't be suffering right now! This is on you!" He knew that wasn't true, this was all on Ryan, but it felt good to release all his adrenaline out on someone.

"Can you both shut up?" The mob guy crouched down and held his gun in Ryan's face.

"Why don't you just hurry up and get on with this, you walking cliché?" So Ryan wasn't the only one who thought the guy was trying too hard with his outfit.

"Cliché?"

"Yeah, the outfit is a bit much." Ryan joined in, unable to help himself. He should have known better, he really should have but there was something about hearing the pain in 'Legs' voice that made him want to cheer him up just a little; Ryan wasn't doing a good job of convincing himself that it was guilt that was motivating him to wind up the guy with murderous intent.

"This suit was expensive! You two are-" The man stopped as his phone started ringing. "Don't you two move." He warned, firing another warning shot near Ryan's head, the shot so loud it made his ears ring. Ryan's eyes were squeezed shut so he couldn't physically see what was happening but he could just about make out the sound of the man answering his phone and walking up the stairs, locking them in the basement.

"He's just gonna leave us here? What now? What if we're down here forever? I'm not starving to death down here and no way I'm resulting to cannibalism!" Ryan panicked, writhing around on the floor to try and get free of his bonds.

"Calm down, Ricky." 'Legs' kicked him. "Listen to me, you've got to untie me. Look over there, he kicked your gun under the boiler. If we can get it, we can get out of here... but we've got to work together."

"Yeah, no fucking chance." Ryan scoffed. "The second I untie you you're gonna grab that gun, blow a hole in my brain and be on your merry way."

"Ricky, we're literally tied together. When you untie me you're untying yourself."

"Then why would you suggest that I had to be the one to untie you?" Ryan couldn't trust him, there was no way anyone would trust a man like him. "How about you untie me?"

"We don't have time to argue about this, dammit!" He snapped, seeming desperate. "Look, I'm in no shape here to be putting up a fight anyway. If you wanted to overpower me you could in an instant... even if I don't believe for one second that you're some fucking hitman. No way, you're way too unprofessional."

"Oh give me a break, this is my first job!" Ryan rolled his eyes, moving his hands to try and find the knot that was between them. He yanked on 'Legs' fingers at first, resulting in another kick, though eventually he managed to find the knot. It took him a while but he finally loosened it to the point the two of them could break free. Ryan immediately rushed to grab the gun, checking to make sure it was still loaded before turning back to 'Legs'.

Ryan froze when he laid eyes on his face, his jaw falling slightly slack. 'Legs' face was bruised, his eye swollen slightly and his lip was split, straight down the middle. He had blood running out his nose, down into his mouth and onto his chin: he looked like he had just had a run in with the killer in a horror movie. He was also on his hands and knees, his right arm keeping him stable on the ground whilst he clutched his stomach with his left... Ryan certainly didn't do this to him when he had the chance. That guy upstairs really was going to kill them if he saw they were free.

"Get up, come on." Ryan had a plan. Hide beneath the basement stairs, wait for the man to come back down then shoot him at the first chance he got. This wasn't like the concept of shooting 'Legs', 'Legs' didn't act like the killer he was, he had been a complete jackass to him as soon as Ryan betrayed him like he had, but that was only fair. That man upstairs was a stone cold, calculated killer, not some idiot in a flower shirt who just wanted to have a good night.

Ryan's hand still shook as he held the gun: it still didn't feel right being held in his hand. He knew he would have to shoot this man, he would have to join 'Legs' in becoming a murderer... but he feared that even with his life at risk he didn't have it in him.

"I don't think I can." 'Legs' was struggling to even speak, his teeth gritted together and his eyes were closed as though he was trying to meditate his way out of pain.

"He's gonna come back any second now, move your ass!" Ryan's fear was causing him to be harsh, but he knew there was no point in sugar-coating the situation. "Come on!" Ryan grabbed his arm and pulled him up, 'legs' leaning against him heavily and doing his best to keep up. Ryan shrugged him off his shoulder and took a steady breath, hoping the shake in his hands wouldn't throw off his aim. "I don't know if I can do this... can't you kill him? You're the fucking expert or whatever."

"Ricky, I can barely stand right now, much less perfectly aim and shoot someone." He had a valid point, even if Ryan had trouble accepting it.

"'Legs' I really don't think I can do this." Ryan was starting to panic. "Can't I just... wait!" He pointed to the metal pole that had been dropped casually in the middle of the room. "That thing I can use!" He tucked his gun away in his belt, opting for his trusty metal pole instead - even if it had been used against him that evening too. That only meant one thing to Ryan however: it hurt like a motherfucker.

The door opened far before Ryan was prepared for it, his heart sinking to the shrill screech of the metal scraping against the concrete. Ryan felt a hand on his shoulder, 'Legs' breathing sounding heavy; he couldn't tell if the guy was just nervous (though he doubted that given how nonchalant he had been about having a loaded gun being pointed at him) or about to pass out. Ryan certainly felt a mixture of both, he felt nauseous and dizzy from the fear alone.

The sound of the man coming down the stairs sang in sync with the pounding of Ryan's heart, drumming adrenaline into his body that he could hopefully use to knock the guy spark-out. The man seemed furious that the two had managed to escape, cursing under his breath and pulling his gun out. The sight made Ryan's blood run cold but he knew it was now or never: if the guy saw them first it would be all over.

He took a few cautious steps forward, sneaking up behind him and trying to hold his breath to be as silent as he possibly could. He had the pole raised, ready to strike when the man turned around. Ryan had never moved so quick in his life, jumping to his left whilst swinging the pole like a baseball bat. He connected with the back of the guys head just has he pulled the trigger. He didn't fall quite as quickly as 'Legs' had, instead stumbling forward a few paces before dropping down.

"I did it... holy shit! I did it!" Ryan wasn't so sure it was something to celebrate but his neurons were firing off in every direction, he couldn't contain it. "Did you see that!" He turned to 'Legs' who was now on the floor, clutching his thigh as blood pooled under his fingers.

Ryan looked down at the man he had knocked out, at the gun that lay at his feet. He did the smart thing and picked it up, putting the safety on and storing it in his belt with his own gun. He then looked back up at 'Legs', the guy who was supposed to be long dead by now at his own hand. If he left him here there was no chance he could get out, his leg had a hole in it now and he could barely even stand before. Ryan could just shut the basement door, lock the two men down there and leave. They'd probably kill each other and Ryan wouldn't have to worry about a thing.

The light coming from the lobby upstairs beckoned him, Ryan answering its call and approaching the stairs, looking through the gaps at 'Legs' who was trying to pull himself up. The second he made eye contact Ryan's plan suddenly had a moral dilemma attached.

"Don't go... please!" He begged, struggling to drag his body closer to Ryan - to the stairs and the only way out that he now guarded like Cerberus. "Come on, man, this guy's gonna kill me!"

"That's your problem." Was the most cold-hearted, badass thing Ryan could think of in the moment before he started walking up the stairs. He reached the top and hovered his hand over the handle of the door. All he had to do now was shut the door and lock it... 'just walk away Ryan, pretend this never happened' his mind reminded him of his plan.

'Legs' had managed to pull himself to the bottom of the stairs, cautiously glancing over at the unconscious man in the middle of the room. Ryan looked down at him, looking into the same eyes that crinkled into thin lines when he laughed earlier, the same eyes that had been a calming presence when he was having a panic attack at the diner. One of those eyes was now swollen and the other had a glint of terror Ryan recognised in his own eyes every time he looked in a mirror. This was all his fault: he'd caused this.

Being alone all his life had kept him alive. Having no ties to anyone had kept him safe. This guy would put him in more danger than he'd ever been in his life if he helped him out here; he could prevent that by simply closing the door and walking away... but Ryan couldn't just leave him there.

"Dammit." He groaned, rushing back down the stairs, grabbing 'Legs' roughly and pulling him up, the taller of the two yelping and gripping onto Ryan to steady himself. "One step at a time, but you've got to be quick. He's gonna wake up any second."

"Shit..." Was all 'Legs' mumbled, wobbling about on the spot.

"Hey man, you pass out on me and I leave you here." Ryan moved up the first step, 'Legs' slowly following him. It took them a while, each step agonisingly slow for the both of them, but eventually they made it to the top, 'Legs' panting heavily as Ryan sat him down on one of the sofas in the lobby. "Wait here."

Ryan locked the basement door, using the metal pole to secure it and one of the sofas to blockade it just to be on the safe side. He dusted his hands off and approached 'Legs' again, holding his hand out so he could use it to pull himself up.

"Come on, I'll take you to a hospital. It's the least I can do." He offered though it was quickly turned down.

"You heard that guy, he was sent by Bloody Mary... If she's after me then the hospitals aren't safe. She'll find me there. She'll come for you too now, Ricky. We're gonna have to stick together on this one." That certainly complicated things, the two of them didn't exactly get along after Ryan tried to murder him. This Bloody Mary woman also sounded like a big deal, she was probably a higher up, a boss or at the very least an associate of the New Orleans Mafia's boss. Ryan had never even heard of her, his own ties to the mob not warning him about her before flying him out here. "There's a hotel on the edge of town, the owners are real nut jobs who believe in ghosts and shit. Bloody Mary wont go near the place, she's got a thing for respecting spirits... we can hide there for now."

"You're going to bleed out, man. Isn't there some shady black market surgeon I can take you to?" It was worth a shot, granted 'Legs' had the ties of course.

"Yeah, 'cause I look like the kind of guy that keeps company with people who steal kidneys." He glowered, resting his head in his hands as he sighed. "I'm fine, I swear. I just need to clean it out and get some rest."

"Okay... okay, you win." Ryan gave in. "But are you going to be alright to give directions? No offence man but you look like shit. Are you're about to pass out?" 'Legs' pulled a series of expressions that tried to seem flippant and he waved it off with his hand.

"I'm fine. Big tough guy like me? This is nothing." Ryan would have to have been an idiot to believe him.

"Oh yeah? Let's go then." He took his offered hand back and walked over to the front doors. "Come on, flower shirt, thought you said this was nothing?" Ryan did think it was a shame that the shirt that suited the guy so well was probably stained forever and would have to be thrown away.

"Ricky, I literally have a hole in my leg." He reminded him, "You want to try walking with a hole in your leg? Give me one of your guns and let's find out if you can do it."

"Not a chance. Just because I saved your sorry ass doesn't mean I can trust you enough to give you a gun." Ryan walked back over to him, crouching down in front of the sofa. "But, just this once and I mean it: just this once... climb on my back." 'Legs' seemed somewhat taken aback by the offer.

"You do realise you're, like, three feet shorter than me, right? Can you even carry me?" Even now he was cracking jokes, Ryan was still considering the possibility that there was something seriously wrong with his brain. He wouldn't admit there was a sort of charm to how carefree he was though, he just liked to think it was because he saw him as a parallel to himself, he was just envious of him, that's all.

"You really are insufferable, you know that?"

"I know." He slid forward and wrapped his arms around Ryan's shoulders, Ryan hooking his arms under 'Legs' legs. "Most people say that about me."

"I can't imagine why." Ryan's words were laced with sarcasm. "Alright, then. Let's go."

'Legs' had managed to keep himself awake as he guided Ryan through the back streets of New Orleans, pointing out where to go at every turning whilst growing heavier and heavier on Ryan's back. He felt a little bit of pride for him to be able to fight off unconsciousness for that long, it was quite frankly impressive!

They arrived at the hotel about half an hour later, 'Legs' climbing off Ryan's back and keeping his head down as to not look suspicious. Ryan had a better idea and left him outside however, only booking a room with one, single sized bed so it would be on record that he came here alone. He liked to think he was playing it smart, but it also dawned on him that he would now have to spend the night with the guy who couldn't shut up with stupid jokes. Either that or he could just ditch him there.

Not to mention, as 'legs' had briefly mentioned: the hotel was supposedly haunted. Ryan believed in ghosts, he'd been scared of them all his life yet had always been fascinated by them. He'd never once stayed somewhere that was haunted, not even by coincidence; so when he saw the name of the hotel, being the Dauphine Orleans Hotel he felt a cold shiver down his spine. He had read about this place online, about how footsteps could be heard in vacant rooms and shadows moved around on their own. To say he was nervous about staying the night there was an understatement.

As he made his way back outside and towards the rooms he spied 'Legs' sitting against the same wall Ryan had left him at, his head leaning back and tilting up towards the sky. His eyes were closed and for a moment or two Ryan thought he had finally passed out, or worse (or better, depending on how Ryan felt in the moment) he was dead.

"Come on, idiot." Ryan nudged him with his foot to bring him back into action. "Let's get you in bed."

"Wow, coming on a bit strong, aren't you Ricky?" 'Legs' opened his eyes and looked up at him with a lopsided grin.

"I could just leave you out here, you know?" Ryan was very tempted, especially when his own face betrayed him and he blushed. In Ryan's defence he had been on a pretty fun date with the guy just before everything went very, very wrong.

He smuggled 'Legs' into the room with relative ease; there was hardly anyone about at this time of night and the hotel was remarkably understaffed. Once the door was closed Ryan felt like he could breathe for the first time that night, though he knew he still had one job left to do.

'Legs' slowly made his way over to the bed, dropping down on it with a groan as he held his leg tightly. Meanwhile Ryan explored the bathroom to find the first aid kit: luckily the hotel supplied one. He looked at where the bullet wound was and bit his lip, there was no subtle way to say what he was about to say.

"You're gonna need to take off your jeans." He knew he would receive a smirk for that one, Ryan doing his best to just move past it and helped 'Legs' slide the tight fabric down over his wound. It looked painful, Ryan wincing when he looked at it and almost gagging at the sight of blood that returned so many awful memories.

As always, 'Legs' seemed to find a way to make things both more awkward but calming at the same time. "You know, this isn't the way I imagined you would be taking my pants off tonight."

"Okay... I'm gonna need you to shut up." Ryan shook his head and took an alcohol wipe out from the first aid kit. "This is probably going to sting, by the way. If you behave maybe I'll be gentle."

"Oh, to hear you say that under different circumstances." He was clearly intent on making things more awkward, Ryan doing his best to try and ignore him as he gently wiped the blood surrounding the wound. "Y'know..." 'Legs' spoke through gritted teeth, "It's crazy to think that just a few inches north I would have got shot in the dick."

"Dude, please shut up." Ryan was blushing just thinking about it. "Though I know now why people know you as 'Legs'... these things are fucking long, man!"

"Yeah, that's not the only thing that's long - ow!" Ryan applied more pressure over the wound, effectively shutting him up. Working in silence was much easier, if not slightly more awkward. Ryan managed to clean away all the blood and take to wrapping 'Legs' upper thigh in bandages.

"That'll do for now. Let me know if it starts bleeding through it." Ryan took to disposing the wipes in the bathroom bin, returning to the room where 'Legs' was still silent. Ryan could tell there was something eating away at him, something he was dying to ask but couldn't quite find the words. He wasn't so sure that he was ready for such a potentially heavy conversation with a guy like him just yet so he let the two of them to continue to marinate in the silence, just until 'Legs' was ready to talk.

"Why did you come back for me back there? Wasn't it your job to kill me?" Ryan was still unsure of the answer to that himself. "Wouldn't it have just been easier to let that guy take care of me?" It must be a hard life he lived when the question that had been eating away at him was why someone had shown him sympathy. Ryan couldn't imagine 'Legs' had many opportunities to have people show him compassion and not shoot on sight.

Ryan thought about that for a second or two, avoiding eye contact with him as he did. He eventually just shrugged and finally met his eye, trying to be as nonchalant as 'Legs' usually was. "It wouldn't have felt right to leave you with him..." He started with, promptly adding. "I wanted to kill you myself."

"Well, I'm sat here in front of you, probably about to pass out. I've got a hole in my leg and you're blocking the door and only way out... what's stopping you from killing me now?" It was a fair question, though Ryan knew it was more of a test. 'Legs' still viewed him as someone who was incompetent at their job, someone who didn't have the guts to kill; Ryan didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified to find out how much of a coward he was... at least he was a coward with a moral compass, right?

"I still might just do it, you're a pretty annoying guy." Ryan spoke jokingly. "You know, if I was stuck in a room with you and the most evil, twisted guy on the planet and I had two bullets, I'd probably shoot you twice."

"Wow, aren't you a nice guy - and completely original, might I add." 'Legs' rolled his eyes, "I bet your mom would be so proud of that answer."

'Legs' had been making jokes all evening, making a new sarcastic comment every few minutes or disingenuous insult whenever someone said anything he didn't quite agree with. Ryan hadn't taken anything he had said to heart, nothing had even come close to insulting him so he was able to play off what he was saying and banter with the guy. It had been frustrating at times and at times it had remined him of his childhood, bickering with his brother over who got to be player one in a video game or who got to have the slightly bigger scoop of ice cream.

However when 'Legs' innocently made a joke about Ryan's mother, whom he had been with in her final moments as she faded from life on the kitchen floor, Ryan's mind decided in a split second that it was too far. Something within him snapped, his face dropping from mildly amused to blind fury.

Ryan took one of the guns from his belt and stormed over to 'Legs' who wore a confused and equally concerned expression on his face. Ryan pressed the gun against the taller man's temple, his finger aching to pull the trigger.

"Don't you dare even fucking talk about her!" Ryan's whole body was boiling with anger. How dare someone who had murdered people himself talk about his mom, about his family in general. The thought had even crossed his mind that maybe 'Legs' was the one who killed his family that night. It was baseless, just a throw away theory but it was enough of a possibility for Ryan to see red, especially as 'Legs' continued to be painfully casual about the situation.

"Can you do it?" He smiled that same lopsided grin he had worn outside the hotel, as though he was above the situation. "Can you really become a killer?" He could tell Ryan had never killed anyone before by the way that the gun trembled slightly against his temple. He looked Ryan directly in his eyes, an impish glint reflecting in them. "You've not got it in you, I can see it in your beady little eyes."

It was as if time stood still for Ryan, his anger getting the better of him.

He pulled the trigger.

'Legs' flinched, bringing his hands up to his head to try and protect himself as he squeezed his eyes closed. A moment or two later as he realised there wasn't a bullet in his brain or a ringing in his ears he untensed his body and opened his eyes, meeting Ryan's equally shocked and terrified expression. He knew the answer to the question he was about to ask, based off Ryan's expression, but he found himself asking it anyway in a timidly quiet voice.

"Did... did you know the safety was on?" His voice only brought more panic to Ryan, knowing the guy who had been so cavalier about this whole evening was now terrified of the guy he'd branded a coward - someone who wasn't capable of pulling the trigger.

Ryan shook his head, his eyes wide and his heart pounding. He slowly backed away from 'Legs' and sat down against the wall beside the bed. He brought his knees up to his chest and held his head in his hands, the gun still quivering in his grip.

"I just shot you." Ryan's voice was vacant, his mind fogging over and leaving him in a state of shock, alone in the mist with only 'Legs' voice to try and save him from getting lost.

"Hey, it's okay, Ricky! I'm not dead, look I'm alive." He assured, shuffling over to the edge of the bed and swinging his legs over, it hurt to move and gave 'Legs' a queasy feeling from the constant ache, but he was reliant on Ryan right now; he couldn't walk on his own and had no chance of getting out of New Orleans alive without him. He needed to push through the pain and be there for him, even if the guy had literally just pulled the trigger on him.

"I shot you!" Ryan spoke louder, trying his best to hold in his emotions and not become hysterical.

"I was just being an asshole, that was on me. I wound you up when I should have been... I should have... I'm sorry, Ricky." He actually apologised, the words not helping Ryan with his hysterics but it certainly cut a path through the fog in his mind.

"It's not that, it's the fact that I feel bad about it! I shouldn't feel bad! I should have just shot you back in the basement and been done with it, but I couldn't fucking do it! That guy who was going to kill us? I couldn't bring myself to kill him either!" 'Legs' tentatively placed his hand on Ryan's shoulder.

"Maybe that's a good thing?" He tried to talk some sense into Ryan, "You're a good guy, Ricky."

"How the hell could I have protected them back then... I always thought if I joined the mob I'd be brave and maybe... maybe I could convince myself that if I'd been at home I could have protected them but..." 'Legs' tried not to show his visual confusion over the topic, his brain whirring and trying to figure out just what he was talking about. "If I'd have been home it wouldn't have made any difference. They'd still be dead and I'd still be alone."

Crushing realisation hit 'Legs' like the bullet that hit his thigh: Ryan was talking about his family. "I'm so sorry, Ricky. I really didn't know... I was being a dick earlier, honestly I'm sure your mom would be proud of you for not being some vengeful murderer."

"I've joined the fucking Mafia, 'Legs'! How could she be proud of that?" Ryan hit himself on the head with the gun, not hard but enough to clearly hear the sound of the impact. Even if the safety was on 'Legs' was still cautious of the way Ryan had moved it around so suddenly.

"I'm sure you had your reasons." 'Legs' was certainly in no position to judge Ryan on his life choices, given that he was part of the same lifestyle.

"I wanted protection. I was just so fucking alone and scared all the time! I just wanted to feel safe!" Ryan wasn't quite comfortable with the fact that he was having a heart-to-heart with a murderer. He really should have been having this conversation with his therapist - if he even still had her number saved to his phone. He had a feeling she would be slightly more judgemental than 'Legs' was being about this whole situation.

"I understand where you're coming from, Ricky." 'Legs' tried his best to empathise with Ryan, although he didn't quite seem comfortable to talk about his own woes. "I've been alone for so long because of the Mob. I know what it feels like to want protection... but this isn't the way forward, buddy."

Ryan shook his head and looked up with a slightly tainted version of his furious expression from earlier. "I'm not your fucking buddy!" He clicked the safety off this time and aimed the gun at him, 'Legs' raising his hands in surrender. "You're a fucking murderer! Why should I be scared about killing you?"

"Come on... we both know this isn't the right thing to do." His voice was so calm it drove Ryan mad. "Give me the gun, Ricky."

Ryan glared at him for what felt like an eternity before turning the gun on himself, closing his eyes and feeling the cool metal of his revolver against his skin. The clatter of the bullets in the chamber rattled in tune with his shaking hand. If he couldn't shoot the guy who kept taunting him there was no way he could pull the trigger on himself, though Ryan had to admit there was something much more simple about shooting himself instead.

"Ricky... give me the gun." 'Legs' leaned forward, holding his hands towards the gun and inching closer as slow as a lion stalking an innocent antelope. "This isn't the way forward, you know it's not. Please... give me the gun." Ryan felt 'Legs' hands cover his own, pulling the gun away from him with ease; Ryan didn't even put up a fight. 'Legs' took the gun and clicked the safety back on, placing it at the far side of the bed and letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

When he turned back to Ryan the shorter of the two stood up, wiping his eyes which were now wet with tears and made sure to tread quickly as he shut himself in the bathroom. As much as he hated the feeling: he just needed to be alone for a moment. Despite having a breakdown in front of the guy twice now he didn't want 'Legs' to see him crying, as if that was where he drew the line and aiming a gun at him not once, not twice but three times was okay.

Having a shower would hopefully clear his head, or at least Ryan prayed it would. Washing away the blood that had been staining his bruised temple and cheek certainly helped him feel a little bit better, that was for certain; the warmth of the water also helping his tense muscles to unwind and melt into the steam. It wasn't until after he was finished that he realised there was a jacuzzi tub that he regretted not slipping into instead, though when he tested it he was disappointed to find the jets didn't work.

He stepped out the shower feeling slightly more human, able to breathe a little bit deeper and think a little bit clearer. He dried himself off with the towel the hotel supplied and dressed himself in his suit once more, wishing he had different clothes to wear. If he was going on the run he'd make sure to buy an outfit that made him less conspicuous for sure.

When the bathroom door opened Ryan was expecting 'Legs' to ask him if he was okay in his own unique, jovial way; the two weren't exactly friends after all. He was expecting a subtle comment or joke to ease the tension between them. Instead all Ryan heard was a croaky groan coming from him as he opened one eye to glance over before closing it again.

'Legs' was now lying on his side, cheek pressed firmly into the side of the pillow with the duvet pulled up to his chin. He was paler than before, his bruises and split lip standing out in stark contrast on his face in a way that made Ryan wince. He couldn't believe this guy still hadn't passed out, although he had a feeling it was only a matter of seconds.

"You look like shit, man." Ryan gave a helpful observation, receiving a middle finger in response. "You sure you don't want to go to the hospital?"

"'M sure." He mumbled in response, Ryan walking over to the bed and sighing as he looked to the small table beside it. 'Legs' had placed the gun there, right beside the little table lamp that struggled to illuminate the room. There was still something within Ryan that knew his troubles here in New Orleans would be over if he just picked it up and shot him. He could call Father Thomas and be out of there by sunrise, his own personal bodyguards meeting him at the airport. He knew what he had to do, the gun was right there and 'Legs' was barely conscious but he was right about Ryan and had been all along: he didn't have it in him.

Ryan sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the gun, looking at his distorted reflection and sighing. "What's the real reason you didn't kill me?" 'Legs' mumbled from the pillow, eyes still closed. "If we're stuck with each other I'd at least like to know why."

"We're not stuck with each other. No one said anything about his being stuck together." Ryan denied as he put the gun down. "I'm heading back to LA anyway, keeping my head low on the way. I don't need your massive noggin giving me away. You can head on back to Chicago or wherever that guy said you're from and tell your little mob friends you gave ol' Goldsworth the slip." Ryan hoped if he left 'Legs' in the state he was in someone from the Orleans Mafia would take care of him eventually; either that or he wouldn't survive the night which would make everything so much easier on Ryan.

"I uh... I would but I kinda quit." 'Legs' admitted, opening his eyes now. Ryan turned back to him with a sceptical look, unable to take his words at face value. For all he knew it could be some type of trick to get him to lower his guard and 'Legs' could kill him in his sleep. "I was out here trying to lay low, blend in... I was hoping to just be free of all this shit. Right up until you came along... guess I was in idiot to think you can get out once you get in."

"Sure." Ryan scoffed, trying not to think about the misty eyed look he was currently facing. "No one just quits the mob. What were you really up to here? Hm? Stirring more shit?" I bet you were planning on killing more of the New Orleans Mafia, weren't you? Is that why that guy came after you - why this Bloody Mary lady is still after you?" Ryan chose not to believe him, he's always been good at letting his paranoia get the better of him, after all. It was part of the reason he wanted protection from the mob in the first place.

"I'm not some fuckin' crazed murderer, Ricky." 'Legs' sounded offended. "I don't know why that guy showed up when he did. I thought he was from the lot in Chicago I used to run with who'd come after me... or I thought maybe that he was part of your crew... right up until he knocked your sorry ass out." Ryan rolled his eyes at his own unprofessionalism; he was still kicking himself about not locking the door. "I guess they're after us both now, so well done on that."

"How's that my fault? How could I have possibly known they'd come after you at the same time I did?" He was getting rather sick of 'Legs' belittling him. He didn't know Ryan, he didn't know his plight or how he got to the spot he was in, not really. He might think he knew, but Ryan was stubborn in believing 'Legs' didn't know a single thing about him - he didn't even know his name.

"I guess you couldn't have known that... but I bet your precious lil' LA gangsters probably did." His voice was croaky but his mind was still sharp, "You got duped, Ricky. They sent you after someone even they had trouble getting to and in a city they had high tensions with... they weren't expecting you to come back." He hit the nail on the head, annoyingly so.

"They didn't dupe me. They told me you would be a hard guy to kill. I knew that coming into this. I was ready for it and, dammit, I came pretty close to succeeding!" Ryan glowered at him, "I had nothing left to lose. I needed to do this! I need their protection! It's hard for a guy to sleep at night in LA when he lives on his own, y'know? Especially after my parents... well, you don't need to know anything more about that." Ryan stopped himself before he gave away all his deepest and personal secrets. He knew 'Legs' had pieced together what had happened to them, but he didn't want him to think Ryan trusted him enough to tell him all the gory details.

"They told you about me and you still came out here? Are you stupid?" Ryan didn't like the holes he was poking in his logic. "Wait... wait, hang on. Let me get this straight.... you wanted to feel safe so you joined a gang? Not a great plan."

"I don't have to explain myself to you!" Ryan huffed as he stood up and headed for the door.

"You're leaving?" 'Legs' pulled himself up slightly, wincing at the pain his leg when he did.

"Yeah. I'm not staying around here with you. I need to get back to LA before those guys find you and kill us both." Ryan didn't feel safe with 'Legs' around, even if his annoying comments were giving him a sense of comfort. "You should just get some sleep. Wash your bandages out in the morning, else you're gonna get an infection. Good luck with trying to get that peace you wanted, 'Legs'."

"Shane."

"Huh?" Ryan turned back to him.

"My name's Shane." He wasn't looking at Ryan anymore, instead he was fidgeting with the duvet. "Shane Madej... I take it you're not actually called Ricky? Well, you might be, but Goldsworth sounds obviously made up. I sussed that out the second you told me."

"I'm not telling you my name just because you're stupid enough to tell me yours." Ryan was a little bit harsh with him, but deep down he felt flattered that 'Legs' - no, Shane had told him his real name. It meant that on some level Shane trusted him... either that or it was because he was tired of going by a nickname associated with a life he was trying to leave behind. "Get some sleep, Shane." Ryan opened the door and stepped out of the room. He breathed in the cool mid-summer's night air and looked up to the sky, leaning his head back against the door.

What the hell was he doing here? Everything had gone so wrong. He was miles from home, he was all alone, probably being tracked as he stood there in the open like a fool. To make matters worse: he knew he was trapped. He couldn't go back by plane, the New Orleans mob would be expecting that. He didn't have a car, he didn't have a stable place to stay and he had no friends or family that could bail him out. The only person in the entire state that he knew was Shane.

Shane...

Ryan felt like screaming, crying or falling to his knees and cursing whichever god had been laughing at all his plans; perhaps he would do all three. He knew giving into his fears and crying about things wouldn't do him any favours though. He had to do his best to keep his head held high, if he gave up now he knew that eventually it would get him killed.

Ryan looked up at the stars, watching them burn brightly from millions of miles away. Stargazing was calming, something he'd always taken comfort in on particularly difficult nights, but he knew standing out in the cold whilst he was a wanted man would do him no favours. As much as he hated to admit it: he was stuck with Shane. He knew his way around the city and had far more connections than Ryan could hope to have; Shane was his best shot of getting out of this alive.

He swallowed his pride and stepped back into the room, Shane opening his eyes with heavy lids and frowning at him. "Thought you were leaving?" Ryan was only outside for five minutes at most but Shane already sounded worse than before. Ryan hoped he was just tired and not showing signs of an infection.

"Yeah, well... change of plans." Ryan locked the door behind him and stepped further into the room. "It dawned on me that I don't really know my way around here... I've got no transport, I can't get to the airport without these mob guys tracking me down. I've got no friends out here, not even old acquaintances... I hate to say it, but all I have is you."

"You saying you'd miss me if you wandered off, Ricky?" Shane joked, even if his humour didn't quite break through his groggy speech. "I'm flattered."

"Ryan." He figured, what the hell, they're in this together like it or not. "Ryan Bergara... but let me tell you now, Shane. If you even think about going behind my back and getting me in even more danger I'll put a bullet between your eyes - and I mean it this time!"

"Mm... okay." Shane agreed to that fairly quickly, not believing Ryan in the slightest. He knew Ryan was a troubled individual, but the two had hopefully bonded enough by now for Shane to bypass Ryan's wannabe mobster side. "So, what's the plan?"

"It's gonna take weeks - no, probably months to walk it back to LA. We'd have to be total idiots to do that... so hopefully the mob won't track us if we do." Ryan's plan was certainly flawed and needed a few revisions or perhaps a total overhaul, but for now it was all he could think to do.

"Your plan is to literally walk half way across the state?" Shane closed his eyes again and sighed, his breath shaking as it hit the air. "You're full of bright ideas, aren't you? I'm shocked you actually managed to track me down in the first place. It's even a miracle we're both still alive."

"Hey, man, shut up." Ryan huffed, "There's not a lot of options, besides, like I said... it's our best shot of getting out of Louisiana without a bullet between the eyes."

"Okay, so by some miracle we do make it to LA... what then? Your mob pals are gonna welcome me, the guy they sent you to kill, with open arms? Hm?" Shane had a point, Ryan begrudgingly admitted. "You just turn up and say, 'hey, don't worry, he's with me, we're pals now' and expect them to not kill us both on sight?"

"I don't know!" Ryan snapped and pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a long sigh to calm down. "I don't know, okay... I just - I just want to go home..." The words were quiet as they left his tongue, but they spoke volumes to Shane. He knew exactly how Ryan felt.

"Alright..." Shane opened his eyes once more and patted the small space on the bed next to him. "Come on, we've got a long day ahead of us. We should both get some sleep."

Ryan looked down at the bed like it had just stomped on an innocent butterfly. "I'm not sharing a bed with you, dude. I was literally going to kill you half an hour ago."

"Alright, fine." Shane shrugged. "More room for me. You can enjoy the floor." He was very good at getting under Ryan's skin.

"Actually, no. Fuck you, move up." Ryan changed his mind after considering his only other options were sleeping in the jacuzzi or on the hard, cold floor. Shane shuffled backwards, wincing as he moved his leg. "You alright?" Ryan asked, forgetting for a moment that this was in fact the guy who was supposed to be dead at his hand.

"Yeah, this is nothing." Shane waved it off. "Just caught me off guard." Ryan climbed into the bed next to him, paranoid he was about to fall off the edge, his body didn't quite fit on all the way, but he also didn't want to ask Shane to move closer to the wall. As much as the taller man didn't want to admit it, Ryan could tell he was in more pain than he was letting on. "This isn't the way I expected to be in bed with you tonight... I'm still kind of offended you only wanted to go out with me because you were planning on killing me. Makes it hard for a guy like me to get over his trust issues, y'know?"

"Please shut up and go to sleep." Ryan sighed, debating going to find some duct tape and shutting Shane up for the entire journey.

It was silent as the two lay there together, Ryan fidgeting as he kept inching closer to Shane to get away from the edge of the bed, then inching closer to the edge of the bed to get away from Shane. He seriously regretted booking a room with a single, small bed now. He should have gone with at least a double. If only he hadn't been planning on leaving Shane here from the start.

"You want me to move over more?" Shane mumbled, Ryan giving in and deciding, what the hell, he didn't like the guy anyway, who cares if he was in pain?

"Yeah." Ryan muttered, Shane taking a deep breath before shuffling backwards so that his back was pressed into the wall. There still wasn't much space, but there was just enough so that Ryan could get onto the bed fully without touching Shane.

More silence.

It was quiet... too quiet.

"Be honest with me, Ryan..." Shane broke the silence, his breath against Ryan's neck as he spoke which sent involuntary shivers down his spine. "Why didn't you just leave me to die down there? You'd be out of here by now, home free... but you threw that away for me. Why?"

"You're supposed to be this big mafia tough guy from Chicago. You've killed dozens of people and got away with every single one. You've got hundreds of men after you and yet you were just partying in New Orleans? Right out in the open? You seemed like the bravest, yet most fuckin' insane guy I'd ever met." Ryan tilted his head to look at Shane, pulling his head back slightly when he realised just how close he was lying to him. "I guess I didn't expect you to look so terrified when that guy showed up and knocked me out."

"I wasn't scared." Shane denies, "He just caught me off guard. It was surprise on my face, not fear."

"Right." Ryan looked back up at the ceiling. "I couldn't just leave you there though. I've never done this before-"

"Really? I couldn't tell."

"Fuck you, I'm trying to be genuine here! I mean it though, I've got no fucking clue what I'm doing here..." The frustration Ryan felt was unparalleled. He felt so useless and naïve. "The only thing I was sure of was... was that I wouldn't have been able to sleep at night if I just left you there. You're welcome, by the way."

"Thanks for endangering me then backing out at the last second." Shane didn't sound very sincere, although he was grateful deep down. "Guess that means you'll sleep like a baby tonight then... that was a hint to shut up and go to sleep now by the way."

"You were the one who started the conversation!" 'This guy is a total jackass' Ryan thought with a glare aimed in his direction. "Why don't you go to sleep first? I'm not even tired."

"Neither am I." Shane very clearly was, he was struggling to keep his eyes open and his head kept dipping into the pillow. "Besides, you're the one who was threatening to murk me earlier! How do I know you're not going to blow my brains out the second I let my guard down?"

"I could say the same about you." Ryan retorted.

"Fine. Guess I'm not sleeping then." He folded his arms with a pout. Shane wasn't even going to blink, Ryan too. The both of them ending up in a staring contest that was more of a test of wills than a matter of endurance.

"Fine. Guess we'll just stay here all night. I'm not falling asleep first." Ryan could be just as stubborn as Shane if he wanted to.

"Neither am I. Get ready for a sleepless night, Bergara." Ryan moved so he was lying on his side, glaring into Shane's tired yet unblinking eyes. He'd crack any second, Ryan knew it. What he didn't expect was for Shane to smirk and blow into Ryan's eyes, forcing him to blink.

"That's cheating, you asshole!" Ryan cursed and shoved Shane on his arm. He didn't nudge him hard but it was enough force to cause the taller man's body to judder on the bed slightly, which was when pain flared up in his thigh. Shane squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the wound on his leg.

"Motherfucker!" Shane hissed under his breath at no one in particular.

"You had that one coming." Ryan said, although he had been meaning to apologise.

"Sorry..." Shane said for him, taking Ryan off guard. Why was he apologising? Ryan was the one who went and caused him pain. Ryan was the one who'd lured him to a hotel a few hours ago and tied him to a chair in the basement. Ryan was the one who'd knocked him out and eventually led him to getting shot in the leg. This was all Ryan's fault, so why the hell was Shane apologising?

He was certainly a hard guy to read. It was like he was just as clueless as Ryan. Ryan had a feeling Shane was plotting something; no one could be as careless as he was, partying in new Orleans like he wasn't a wanted man. There was more to it, Ryan would get to the bottom of it eventually.

"You really should have gone to a hospital." Ryan felt bad about their hasty thinking. A shady, haunted hotel in the middle of nowhere was a good hideout to keep them alive, but it would be for nothing if Shane bled out before morning.

"I'm fine, Ryan." Shane spoke through gritted teeth. "Big tough guy like me, this is tame."

"I dread to think." Ryan wasn't so sure getting used to being shot was the right lifestyle he was seeking. In fact, this whole time he was more scared than he had been the night he was left all on his own as a child. "Either way, let me have a look. You might have bled through the bandages by now."

"It's fine, Ryan." Shane swatted him away when Ryan moved his hand to grab the duvet. "Or do you just like staring at my long legs, huh?"

"I'm not - you... I'm... you're insufferable!" Ryan was flustered but it didn't stop him pulling the duvet back and inspecting Shane's wound. The bandages he had wrapped him with were holding but they were already starting to show spots of various shades of red. "You're still bleeding."

"Well yeah, there's a hole in my leg, genius." Shane mumbled. "Don't worry about it. It's fine." Shane hoped that if he kept repeating that he was fine Ryan would finally start to believe him.

"I'll change the bandages in the morning and the first place we'll head for is a pharmacy for better wraps. I'll see if I can get something to help with the pain too." Ryan at least wanted to help ease the pain... that and he didn't want to carry him for the entire journey.

"You'd need a prescription unless you plan on getting something that wont even help with a headache. They could probably track us through that." Shane informed him.

"Oh... yeah, I guess." Ryan moved back, sitting against the headrest. Shane looked up at him and nudged his arm lightly.

"Don't look so worried. If I can spend a week in the same city without really trying to hide we can get out of this alive." Shane adjusted his position so he was more comfortable, though the burning in his leg wasn't helpful in that. "Stick with me and everything will be fine."

"I guess..." Ryan sighed, pulling his knees up to his chest.

"Really, Ryan, don't worry. I'll keep you safe... just as long as you promise to do the same for me." Shane wasn't asking much, just that they would look out for each other whilst they worked together. Ryan wasn't so sure he'd be capable of protecting Shane, but it did make him feel better knowing he would have some trained, master assassin looking after him. Even if he was an asshole.

"Okay." It wasn't very assuring, but it was enough for Shane.

"Great... now shut up and go to sleep."

Ryan struggled to fall asleep, spending most of his night staring at the ceiling and listening to whoever was above them stomping around constantly. He managed to convince himself that it was just whoever was in the room above him pacing out some serious life changing decision; perhaps a new job offer or what to have for breakfast. His mind did keep drifting back to the idea that maybe Bloody Mary stayed away from this place for a reason. Maybe there really were malicious spirits haunting the hotel.

By the time Shane started snoring like a bear Ryan gave in to the idea that he wouldn't be getting much sleep. His mind was too preoccupied anyway. He spent the night thinking over every horrible possibility that could happen when morning rolled around. He thought about whether they would even survive leaving the hotel, or survive leaving the street the hotel was on. What if they got caught before they even left the block?

He couldn't focus much on the positives, on what it would feel like to relax for the first time in a long, long time. To spend time with someone who was actually looking out for him, someone who he could joke around with if he just learned to let go a little. It hadn't crossed his mind that being stuck with Shane was more of a blessing than a curse.

Before Ryan could realise it, the stress of the day caught up with him and he drifted slowly off to sleep, anxious about what the future could possibly hold.

#Shyan #mafia au #my work #skeptic believer

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writingblock101 · 4 years

Text

Growing Pains (Damian x Reader)

This is the first time I’ve written Damian! I hope y’all like it. In this fic, he’s 17. I found the picture on Google so I’m not sure who the original artists it (it was reposted from Pinterest and the artist wasn’t listed), but know that the art is not mine!

Request for @idkmanicantenglish (thanks for your patience!): Reader and Damian got in a fight while they were out in patrol, and when they go back to the Bat Cave, Damian ignores her and she goes to sleep in the guests room and later into the night Damian decides to go apologize because she was just trying to help him and he got mad for no reason

Words: 1,800

“I had it handled,” Robin growls, resheathing his katana.

“Yeah, that looked handled,” You remark sarcastically, putting your knives away.

“I was fine, I didn’t need a savior,” He storms past you.

You roll your eyes but follow Robin.

“It’s not that deep. I was just helping.”

He whips around to glare at you.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t need help.”

“You know a thank you wouldn’t kill you!”

“I can handle myself! I didn’t need your help!” Then Robin grapples to the next rooftop.

“Trouble in paradise?” Nightwing asks in your ear.

You groan.

“You have no idea.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” He offers.

“Where are you?”

“On top of Gotham City Bank. Come tell me about your boy problems,” Nightwing snickers.

You roll your eyes, but shoot your grappling hook and head to Gotham City Bank to rant to Nightwing.

“Hey, Falcon,” He greets as you land gracefully on the roof. “What’s troubling you?”

“Your stupid brother,” You grumble, sitting down next to Nightwing.

He chuckles.

“Yeah, you’re not the first person.”

“He’s been so pissy on patrol lately. It’s annoying.”

“What happened?”

Your shoulders slump.

“Robin crashed one of Dent’s meetups, but there were more guns than he anticipated so I helped him out but of course, he’s all pissed because he thinks that I think he can’t handle himself or something!” You cross your arms. “I know he’s capable, but geez, even Batman has back up!”

Nightwing hums along, nodding his head. You continue ranting.

“He’s been so touchy lately! Like any time I back him up or join him in a fight, he gets pissed! And I’m fed up with it! I don’t get pissy when he helps me out! I don’t get it! This had never been an issue until a few weeks ago and I’m over it!”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” Nightwing suggests but you scoft.

“Come on, Wing. You know Robin. He’s more emotionally constipated than Batman. Talking it out isn’t exactly his strong suit.”

“You’re right,” Nightwing agrees. “He’s stubborn with that kind of thing but you’re just going to have to corner him.”

Your shoulders slump.

“I know but I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s just going to end in a fight! Something is up and he won’t tell me… But I don't know why! I want to help him and be there for him but…” Your voice lowers as you slump in further on yourself. “He doesn’t trust me.”

“Seriously, Falcon? Robin not trust you? You’re the first person he’s ever truly let in!” Nightwing insists. “Talk to him, it sounds like he needs someone to be there for him.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen tonight,” You snap. “I’m still pissed. No matter what’s going on, taking out on me isn’t cool.”

“That’s fair,” He shrugs. “Robin is stubborn like that. I don’t know anyone else like that,” He sighs dramatically.

“Shut up, Wing!” You hear Red Hood’s distant voice yell, getting you to crack a smile.

“And we’ve got a smile,” Nightwing grins. “Don’t let Robin ruin the rest of your patrol. Go beat up a mugger or something.”

“Thanks for the advice, Wing,” You smile then dive off the roof, letting the wind catch your cap and allow you to glide onto the next roof.

. . .

Your night improved after talking to Dick, but as you get closer to the Cave, you begin dreading to see Damian. He’s been so snappy lately and you’re tired of it. Whatever his issue is, he needs to handle it like an adult and stop taking it out on you.

As your feet touch the ground, you decide you’re not talking to him tonight. Any necessary conversation can happen in the morning. Once you finish your debrief of the night with Bruce, you’re about to head upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms when Damian catches your arm.

“Can we talk?” He asks.

You pull your arm away from him, wishing he’d never hit that growth spirit that made him taller than Jason. You feel tiny in comparison despite spending your free nights beating up criminals much bigger than you.

“What?” You snap.

He sighs.

“Are you mad at me?”

You raise your eyebrows. What an amazing detective.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that since you flipped your shit at me in the warehouse?”

“I had the situation under control,” He growls. “I was angry that you didn’t seem to trust me enough to handle it.”

“I trust you, I was just helping.”

“It was unnecessary, I had it handled.”

“Well, it certainly made it go faster.”

“You didn’t pop in to help with speed,” Damian snaps. “I’m not some helpless child. I can handle myself!”

“I never said you couldn’t. I was just being backup.”

“I didn’t need a savior.”

“Stop trying to put words in my mouth,” You snap. “I was just helping.”

“I didn’t need your help!”

“You were getting overwhelmed!”

“I had it handled!”

“No, you didn’t!” You yell. “I don’t give a shit who you were trained by Damian! You’re not bulletproof! And if I hadn’t stepped in tonight, you would’ve gotten shot!”

“I’ve had worse,” Damian sneers.

“That’s not the fucking point!” You snap. “If you’re going to stand here and be pissed at me for having your back then fine! I’d rather you be mad at me than be dead. And if that makes me an idiot, so be it!”

“If I had gotten shot, it would’ve been my own damn fault and I would have dealt with it! I don’t need you to be watching my every move!”

“Your arrogance is going to get you killed if you can’t even accept help from someone who’s supposed to watch your back,” You growl. “That’s what all of us do, we look out for each other.”

“Yeah, look out for each other, not babysit,” Damian snaps.

“Fuck this, I’m going to bed. I don’t know what your deal has been lately but I’m tired of being your punching bag! So, when you’re ready to own up to your shit, you know where to find me,” Then you storm off.

You cannot believe Damian has the audacity to accuse you of being a babysitter! For a long time, he felt he had to prove himself which he hid under a thick layer of arrogance, but you thought he was passed that! Apparently, he’s back to needing to prove himself to God knows who and has decided he’s going to take out any frustration about his shortcomings on you.

Not anymore. You’re tired of this. If Damian thinks he can continue speaking to you that way, he’s got another thing coming.

After showering, you go to bed in a guest room, still fuming. Usually, you sleep in Damian’s room, but after your argument tonight, you don’t want to be near him. You spend thirty minutes tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable or take your mind off your boyfriend.

Seriously, what is his deal? Damian’s never spoken to you like that! You two always had mutual respect for each other since you were always the two youngest in the room. The pressure of living up to your predecessors could fade when it was you two because you both understood each other, so why Damian decided you were now babysitting him--

The door opens. You flip over, your back to the door, knowing exactly who just walked into the room.

“Y/N,” He says quietly.

“What do you want, Damian?” You snap, refusing to face him.

“I want to apologize.”

You sit up in bed and face him with a clenched jaw.

“For what?” You demand.

“For tonight,” Damian admits, looking at you for a moment then looking away.

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that,” You growl.

He sighs.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you and accusing you of not trusting me. You were just helping and you were right-- I was taking on too many men by myself.”

You soften and pull back the covers, inviting Damian into bed. He crawls in bed, wrapping his arms around you.

“What’s up with you, Dames?” You ask, leaning back against his chest.

“What are you talking about?”

You roll your eyes.

“You know what I’m talking about. Why have you been so snappy on patrol lately?”

He sighs, twirling a piece of your hair instead of answering for a moment. You wait, knowing he’ll answer you. Whatever is bothering him, Damian doesn’t want to admit. He’s ashamed, but he’ll get over his pride.

“Grandfather called me.”

You wince, unsure of the last time Damian spoke to his grandfather. You’re pretty sure it didn’t end well then either

“What did he say?”

“He told me I’m wasting my time as a sidekick and that I could be a great ruler right now if I was not wasting my time with trivial matters.”

You turn to face Damian, forcing him to look at you.

“Damian, what you do is not trivial. You help people every night. You save lives. What you’re doing in Gotham is so much greater than anything you could be doing in the League of Assassins.”

“Doesn’t feel like that sometimes,” He mutters. “I get treated like a criminal here. At least there, I was respected.”

“You were also murdering people,” You remind him.

“I know,” He goes silent, but you can tell something is still bothering him.

“Maybe you’ve outgrown Robin,” You suggest, resettling on his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, everyone that has been Robin, after a certain point eventually became someone else of their own creation. Dick became Nightwing, Jason became Red Hood, Tim became Red Robin.”

“Are you suggesting I quit as Robin?”

You shrug.

“I think you are starting to outgrow the role and need a new role to fill.”

Damian is silent for a moment, mulling over your words.

“Perhaps…” He agrees, resting his head on top of yours. “I don’t know what I would call myself.”

“You don’t have to decide now, you have time. Talk to Bruce about it, maybe he has some suggestions, but for now, stop being rude on patrol.”

He chuckles, hugging you tighter for a moment and kissing the top of your head.

“Yes, Beloved.”

“I love you, Damian. I don’t want anything to happen to you so it worries me when you brush stuff off by saying you’ve had worse.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I just…” He trails off.

You turn to look up at him, reaching up to stroke his face for a moment.

“I know.”

You get it. You and Damian have always understood each other in a way neither of you had ever experienced before meeting each other. It’s why you two worked as well as you did, even with both of your stubbornness and tough exteriors.

He smiles fondly at you and kisses you.

“I love you too,” Damian whispers back.

This is the first time I’ve written for Damian so hopefully, I did okay! I’m not sure if Damian ever becomes someone else other than Batman, but it’s fanfiction. Keep an eye out for some future fics I’ve been working on!

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #robin #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #red hood #vigilante!reader #dc #robin x reader #older!damian

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jawritter · 4 years

Text

Jealous Of My Demons...

Requested by: @imabitch4jensen

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, language, angst, Dean bing a dick, fluff, set at the end of season 5 after they boys killed the horsemen pestilence.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam x Reader (friends), Mentioned Brady x Reader.

Word Count: 1970

A/N: Trying to knock out some of these requests. So you guys get two fics today lol. As always please do not copy my work! All mistakes are mine! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!

Want More? Check out my Masterlist!

****MASTERLIST***

It had been a very long five days.

Well, a very long two weeks really.

To say things were tense between Dean and yourself would be the understatement of the year, and the recent events leading up to the where you were now weren't exactly helping what had already been a tense situation for the two of you.

Dean and yourself had been dating for five years. Ever since you came to find Sam after he quit Stanford and started searching for his dad with Dean. It took you a while, about a year and a half actually, but you finally found him. When you did, and you officially found out about all the lovely shit that goes bump in the night. You started helping Sam with research on hunts, and then things developed between Dean and yourself rather quickly.

You just clicked.

Things were great for years, but as of late, between Sam and his addiction to Demon blood behind Dean's back, the world ending, horseman on the loose, things between the two of you hadn't been as great as they used to be.

Hell, you barely even talked to each other anymore unless you had to.

Last week when they captured your now ex-boyfriend, Brady, who went to school with yourself and Sam, and much to Dean's dismay was your boyfriend while you were at Stanford, made things even tenser between you.

Crowley and Sam thought it would be a good idea to use you to get information out of him as to where pestilence was hiding. Dean did not like that idea at all. That was probably the worst fight you ever had. The only one that had ended up with you sleeping in a separate motel room that night, and the fight that drove the wedge between the two of you still.

Even though the boys had gotten the information they needed, and defeated the horseman, Dean was still angry, and not speaking to you.

You had about all of the silence you could handle.

Still, you sat quietly in the back seat of Baby, watching the blur of trees fly buy you in the dark as Dean drove back to your home away from home, Bobby Singer's house, to rest up and regain the strength the boys needed to continue this fight that seemed to be never-ending.

Every now and then you would feel Dean's eyes on you in the rearview mirror, but you ignored him in order to keep from crying the whole way there.

You were exhausted from the fighting, you were exhausted from the tension, and you knew that when you got to Bobby's house this was going to all come to a head, and Dean was going to either want to yell at you or leave you. Because even Sam seemed to be starting to react to the tension in the car nervously fidgeting in his seat as the silence in the car became deafening.

When you finally saw Bobby's house come into sight you chewed on your lower lip nervously, and as soon as the car was in park Sam was out of it, and headed into the house, leaving you alone with Dean.

Dean got out of the car and leaned against the hood as he waited for you to get out of the car.

"This is it," you thought to yourself, "he's breaking up with you."

Making our way around the car with your head looking at the ground you thought if you just kept walking, and didn't' stop he may just let it go, and not want to break up with you. It was a futile hope, but it was a hope nonetheless.

"Y/N, wait a minute we need to talk," Dean said as you passed him heading for the front door.

Stopping in your tacks you looked at him for the first time tonight. Really looked at him, and you were surprised by what you saw there. He didn't look angry, and that surprised you. You were sure you'd find him angry with you, but he just looked...

Tired.

"Whatever is going on between us we need to work this out because I feel like I'm losing you sweetheart, and I don't want to do that."

His words shocked you, making you look down and start kicking gravel around your feet. Trying to pick and choose your words wisely, but the anger was still bubbling in you past the hurt, or maybe it was the anger that was driving the hurt, you weren't even sure anymore.

"What is there to say, Dean. You said it all that night that I helped to interrogate Brady. You obviously don't trust me anymore. Maybe you never did."

Dean's eyes searched you before looking down at his own shoes that were crossed one over the other as he leaned against Baby's hood.

"That's not true, Y/N, I trust you. Hell, you know shit about me nobody does, not even Sammy. I didn't say those things because I didn't trust you, I said those things because I didn't trust the damn demon that was in your ex. It really had nothing to do with you."

You glared at Dean as he glared back at you. Both of you standing your ground now like a bunch of overgrown stubborn mules. Neither willing to give an inch. Dean's words still ringing in your ears.

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

"I don't want you to do this, fuck Sam and Crowley," Dean whispered yelled at you.

"Dean, Brady is still inside there with that Demon somewhere, maybe I can get through to the real him, and we can find this next horseman." You say back at him through your teeth.

"No, I'm not letting you do this," Dean said as if his word was written like the law of Pharaoh, and he had the last say.

"You're not my father Dean, and I'm not a child. You can't tell me what I can and can't do."

You turn your back on Dean and head for the door.

"Fine, that's how you want to be, go run to your rich ex-boyfriend, apparently you were that bitch in college, and I had you all wrong."

Your turn around on your heels, and stare at him in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

Dean crossed the floor, towering over you like his sheer height advantage would make you back down.

"You heard me, I didn't stutter. You were that bitch. That arrogant egotistical, gold-digging, money ridding bitch. I don't know how you ever ended up here with me. Go run to the aid of your rich ex-boyfriend. Apparently, you would rather be with him than me any."

You stood there stunned as Dean walked by you, and out of the room as the tears from his hurtful words fell down your face.

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

"Then why did you say that shit to me, Dean? Obviously, we don't know each other as well as we thought we did."

"I was jealous OKAY?"

You stood there blinking at him and his outburst like he'd finally cracked, and you needed to call Bobby out here to take a look at his mental state.

"Y/N, baby, please listen to me. I didn't mean a damn thing I said that night, I was jealous and scared, and I didn't want you to get hurt by that demon possessing Brady, but I also didn't want you to see Brady, remember how much better he was than me, and decided to leave me and go for a guy like him. Someone you really deserve!"

Dean was off the car now and standing in front of you with either hand on the side of your face. His thumb lightly tracing away the tears that had fallen there.

"Dean I don't want a man like Brady. Brady only ever cared about his money and his career. Obviously, he lost himself somewhere along the way, I don't want someone like that. He and I never got along well anyway. You were the best damn thing that's ever happened to me! I don't want you ever to think you’re not good enough for me. I left Brady, Stanford, and everything else behind for Sammy, and YOU. Because I want to be with you. Not some rich dick that thinks he's better than everyone. Dean, I love you! You overgrown idiot!"

To stop your rant Dean close the distance between you, his lips brushing over yours before deepening the kiss. Taking your breath away, and leaving you panting as he pulled away from you.

"I love you too Y/N, and I can't lose you, never. Nothing is more important to me than you, and I need your right now more than ever because I don't know how all this is going to end."

Reaching your hands around his neck you play with the small hairs on the nape of his neck as he backs you towards Baby's hood.

His hands are roaming your body, holding onto your hips tightly as you slip yourself onto the hood of the car. His teeth graze over your lower lip pulling a moan from you as he spreads your legs, and he settles in between them. His fingers finding your cover clit and rubbing soft there as he worked his way down your neck. Leaving little bit marks and open-mouthed kisses as he went. Your hands fumbling as you try your best not to alert Bobby and Sam in the house as to what was about to happen between you.

Opening up his pants you reach your hands into his tight boxers and free his already hard length, pumping him slowly to match the pace of his fingers that were now inside your thong. Buried knuckle deep in your aching core. His thumb still keeps up the same steady rhythm.

"Fuck sweetheart, I need you now," he growled against your neck, removing his fingers from you, and ripping your thing off of your body.

Placing it in his pocket as he freed himself more from the confines of his pants and boxers. Pressing his leaking tip to your waiting entrance and sinking into you in one smooth thrust. Your teeth sink into his shoulder to keep the moan at bay as he grunts into your neck. Your bodies moving and grinding together as you wrapped your legs around his waist. The deep hitting ever sweet spot he'd ever found and then some you didn't even know about.

The coil is already tightening in your belly as you move together. Your walls flutter around his already throbbing length. Your breath mingling together in the cool night air.

"Fuck Dean I'm close," you whimpered in his ear as his ground himself harder against you.

"I'm right there to baby let go."

That's all it took and you were falling to pieces around him as your walls clamped down on his throbbing length while he spilled himself deep inside of you. Both of you panting against each other as his lips found yours, and he slid himself out of you and back into his clothes.

Helping you slide down from Baby's hood and holding you close to him as you shivered from the night air around you. Shrugging off his leather jacket he slipped it over your shoulders before giving you another peck on the lips.

"I"m sorry, Sweetheart. I'm not going to let me get between us again."

"I'm sorry to Dean." You tell him as his lips find yours in a sweet, gentle kiss. You'd missed this, you'd missed this so much

"Dean get your ass inside so we can figure out what's our next move!" Bobby called from the house, leaving the two of you laughing together.

"You know that's probably going to be you when you're old right?" You asked Dean as he helped you walk to the house through the dark wrecking yard.

"Long as I got you baby I can live with that."

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Tag List:

@deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @alanegaming @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #jealous!dean #jealous dean winchester #jealous dean x reader #jealous dean x you #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn one shot #dean winchester one shot #dean x reader #dean x you #jawritter #dean winchester smut #spn smut

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years

Text

My Little Brawler - Feysand Headcannon 2

I’ll just go ahead and preface this by saying it’s long as SHIT. I went a little crazy. But here’s the second headcannon for Feysand. Thank you for the love on the last one! Next one out tomorrow.

Synopsis: Feyre Archeron is a 31 year old researcher who has devoted her entire life to her work. Her dating history is a mess, from an ex-husband to one night stands. A serious relationship? Hell no.

Rhysand Turner is a Virginia-born quarterback living it up in a football-crazy city. He doesn’t date and sticks to dumb blondes who look good on his arm and think how far he can throw a football is better than sex. Marriage? Not in a million years.

________________________________________________________________

Feyre swung the lab door closed, locked it behind her, and headed toward the hospital exit.

“Calling it a night?” Howie, the night-shift security guard asked from behind his desk.

She glanced at her watch and winced. “More like a morning now, but yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

He laughed and went back to his crossword puzzle. Nothing interesting happened in the hospital this late at night outside of the ER, so Howie was basically only there for her. Feyre frequently was the last staff member to leave the place, something her coworkers never understood.

She came in early, left late, and worked holidays. To say she was married to her job would be an understatement.

Grabbing her keys and walking out to her car, she had to admit they had a point. She’d given up her entire life for her work, but she had no regrets.

She’d made countless breakthroughs in nuclear medicine and had changed the face of chemotherapy and radiation. It payed off every day when she heard from the oncologists that one of their patients was cancer free.

As she drove to her townhouse--only four minutes from the hospital--she wondered if it was strange she preferred to be alone.

Then she remembered how she’d ended up when she committed herself to a relationship and shook her head. If you can’t trust the man you’re married to, who can you trust? No one.

She didn’t miss being married. At all. She didn’t miss having to come home from a long day at work and muster up the energy to talk about whatever was bothering him.

She did miss sex, though. She never went out, never invited anyone over. It’d been so long since she’d been with a man, she was pretty sure she had cobwebs down there.

Ignoring that thought, Feyre walked through her front door, threw her keys on the kitchen table, and went to bed. She had to be in the hospital in four hours if she wanted to get ahead of her schedule.

_________________________________

Rhysand jogged off the field, grinning at the look on his coach’s face.

“If you’re in love with me, I don’t want to know,” he joked.

Coach Matthews was at least five inches shorter than Rhys, but he reached up and smacked the back of his head anyway. He wasn’t actually mad, though. There were about three people in the world who could get away with talking trash to Adrian Matthews, and Rhys happened to be one of them.

“Shut up, smartass. I’m just excited. If you play like this tomorrow, we’ll wi-”

Rhys cut him off. “Don’t jinx me.”

A raised eyebrow. “After all this time, you’re superstitious?”

“It could be my last game,” he said, ignoring the look on the man’s face. “I don’t need any bad luck.”

He’d never admit it, but losing tomorrow’s game was easily the scariest thing in Rhys’s life.

Talent wise, there was no one better than him. He wasn’t cocky, but he knew it. He had better stats, better knowledge of the game, better everything.

But, according to sports, Rhys was old as dirt.

No matter how good you are, football isn’t a lifetime sport. Even though thirty-eight would be young to almost anyone’s standards, network channels and reporters were all wondering how long he would push on.

The guys he was competing against were all in their twenties, young and fresh and without back pain. And knee pain. And-

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, idiot. No matter what happens tomorrow, you’ve had the most impressive career as a NFL quarterback in history. So get your head out of your old ass and play the game you know how to play.”

Rhys just laughed. “My old ass? What about you? When did you even sneak out of the retirement home?”

Before Matthews could attempt to kick his ass, a beefy hand smacked into Rhys’s back and Cassian--the other person allowed to talk shit to coach--said, “Oh, I see. You made a few good passes out there and now you’re over here drinking water and gossiping with coach like a couple old ladies. Cute.”

“Both of you, get your asses home and in bed,” the coach ordered, rolling his eyes. “I cannot believe I let myself draft two hard-headed, pain in the ass hillbillies,” he muttered, walking toward the other players.

“He’s just mad because he’s in love with you,” Cassian said, throwing a thick arm around Rhysand’s shoulders, and dragging him to the locker room.

Rhys pushed him off and laughed. “That’s exactly what I said.”

“So about tomorrow-”

“I swear to god if you mention the game one more time, I’ll tell everyone you wear women’s underwear when you play,” Rhys threatened, then ducked to avoid the helmet flying towards his head.

“Shut the fuck up, man! That was one time! And I wouldn’t have done it, but you made me watch Bull Durham and it seemed like a decent idea at the time. And I wasn’t even gonna talk about the game.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow. If Cassian wasn’t talking about football, he was droning on about women, booze, or hunting. Sometimes a mixture. Before he could continue, Rhys made a bet it was women on his best friend’s mind this time.

“Anyway, me and Az were thinking we could go somewhere new tomorrow night. Regardless of how the score turns out.”

That caught his attention. The three of them had been friends since high school and had all played together till Azriel blew his knee out two years ago. They all lived in the same apartment complex still and got together almost every weekend. In all their time of friendship, they’d maybe gone to five bars. Once Cassian found a place and racked up enough of a tab, he stayed until they wouldn’t let him through the door anymore.

“Where?”

“There’s bar about twenty minutes from here. Az apparently knows the owner or something.” It made sense. After his injury, Azriel had gone into broadcasting and had made a ton of connections in the PR world.

“I don’t want to go anywhere crow-”

Cass cut him off. “He said it’s a small bar. No crowds.”

The one negative aspect of his life was the never-leaving pack of fans and paparazzi following him around. After the game tomorrow, it’d be hectic. He didn’t want to deal with that if they won, let alone if they lost.

Rhys shrugged. “Fine by me. Either way, I’ll be needing a lot of booze.”

“You’re so fucking dramatic man,” Cassian laughed. “It’s just a game.”

Rolling his eyes, “It’s the Super Bowl, idiot. It’s not just a game.”

“Okay,” his best friend and defensive tight end said lightly. “It’s a big game.”

As he thought about how a loss tomorrow could be the end of his career, Rhys could only nod and agree.

________________________________

Feyre walked through the front doors of the cancer wing and halted. John Weatherly, the Chief of Staff of the hospital--and not to mention a huge pain in her ass--stood at the threshold.

“You look annoyed,” she stated, ready for whatever lecture he was about to give her.

After all the time she’d worked for him, she’d never really gotten past her dislike of her boss. Or his misogynistic rants. Or the fact that he smelled like cigarettes. They worked in the cancer wing of the hospital, for crying out loud. And he had the nerve to smoke a cigarette every chance he got.

“I am,” he said, equally as blunt. “Are you aware you’ve worked at least 120 hours a week for the past two months?”

“Considering I log my own hours, yes.”

“That is a huge waste-”

“Are you aware that I’ve published three research articles during the past two months? Generating publicity, not to mention patients, for the hospital?”

“Considering I’m not an idiot, yes,” John snapped sourly. “But this isn’t about me. The board is implementing a new rule this week. No more work weeks over 100 hours.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but he held up a hand in annoyance. “Don’t bother. I already tried to tell them you practically live here. It’s not flexible for anyone.”

Feyre allowed herself to steam for a few moments before muttering, “Fine.” She tried to walk around him to the lab, but he stepped in her path.

“Since you’ve already worked over the limit, you’ll have to go home. Come back Tuesday.”

“Tuesday?!” she practically shouted. “Why not tomorrow? The time cards reset every week.”

“You’ve worked 115 hours this week. They told me to tell you specifically that if you want to continue to receive a paycheck from them, you will come back Tuesday.”

“This is so-”

“Have a nice two days off, Dr. Archeron.”

She couldn’t not work for two days. “What am I supposed to do all day? Just let me go get my paperwork, and I’ll work from home.”

“Feyre, I have specific orders from the hospital’s board to have the security guard escort you out if you try to go in the lab.”

Her mouth dropped open, but before she could tell him how ridiculous this was, he said, “Go home. Sleep. Watch the game.”

“Game? What game?”

It was his John’s turn to look shocked. “The Super Bowl is tonight. Did you really not know?”

“No, of course not. I don’t care about football.”

Her boss was silent, stuttered a few words, then said, “How do you not like football? You live in Boston! Rhysand Turner is practically a celebrity around here.”

She didn’t know why any medical professional would encourage grown men to smash into each other for sport, but kept that to herself. “Who is Rhysand Turner, exactly?”

“For a genius, you’re such an idiot,” he said bitterly. “He’s the quarterback about to win us the Super Bowl tonight. You should watch the game in your time off. Speaking of, leave. Now.”

“But-”

“Nope. Now.”

The urge to call him a jackass was so strong, she left before it slipped out. How ridiculous was this? She worked her ass off every day researching nuclear chemistry and the effects of chemotherapy in the body. It was important. Her work changed lives.

And they were telling her to go home and twiddle her thumbs. Or watch football.

She drove home angrily, wondering what on earth she would do with 48 hours of uninterrupted free time.

After finishing two loads of laundry, scrubbing her entire bathroom and kitchen, and grocery shopping, Feyre was bored. She tried to sit down and watch TV, but there was nothing on that interested her.

She flipped to the news, thinking she’d distract herself with politics. But no, everyone was talking about the game. Apparently, John was right. No one cared about anything except football today.

An idea popped in her head, and she smiled and picked up the phone.

“Finally!” her best friend shouted happily as she answered on the first ring. “I’ve been waiting for you to call; I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Hi, Mor,” she laughed. “I’m sorry it’s been so long. Work is-”

“-crazy, I know,” she finished her sentence. “What’s up?”

Trying not to sound bitter, Feyre said, “Well, I actually have today and tomorrow off, so I was wondering what you were doing tonight.”

A pause.

“You know I own a bar, right?” Mor asked, as if Feyre were dense.

“Yes, of course.”

Another pause, then, “And you know it’s Super Bowl Sunday, right? It’s a busy night for us. Well, as busy as a tiny ass bar in the suburbs can be.”

Feyre laughed. “Oh, no worries, I’ll see you some other-”

“Wait! Why don’t you come?”

“Oh... uh...” How could she get out of this? Fake illness?

A knowing town crept into Mor’s voice as she said, “Don’t even think about telling me you’re sick, bitch. You already said you don’t have anything to do tonight. Or tomorrow. Which means you can get drunk! Ooh, or laid!”

Feyre sighed. “Mor, I don’t want to watch a football game. And I definitely don’t want to get drunk.”

She could tell her friend was smiling as she said, “Just laid, then.”

Feyre rolled her eyes and stayed silent, trying not to think about how true that statement was.

“Fine. Come at like 11. It’ll be pretty empty by then. But you’re definitely drinking.”

She debated arguing, but Mor would likely show up and drag her out herself if she tried. “Fine. One drink.”

____________________________________________

Rhys couldn’t stop smiling as he drove himself and Cassian through the city in his truck.

“You know you’re a millionaire, right, Rhysie?” his best friend asked with a laugh.

He just rolled his eyes, having heard this argument at least 20 times. “Don’t hate on the truck. I’ve had her since senior year.”

“It’s rusting. You’re a millionaire. Buy a new one.”

“Nope.”

Cassian groaned. “Why not?”

“She’s been with me through every win, every loss, everything. You know I lost my-”

“Stop! You already told me, and I almost throw up every time I get in this ass-mobile.”

Rhys laughed and punched his shoulder, then said thoughtfully, “You know, I think it was right where you’re sitting.”

Cassian swore and scooted as close as he could get to the door.

“Don’t worry, you can get out. We’re here.”

As soon as he put the truck in park, Cassian jumped out of the cab and wiped the seat of his jeans off with his hand, making Rhys laugh.

He climbed out of the truck, his body still lined with adrenaline. He’d played his ass off, crushed the opponent, and carried his team to victory.

He supposed he had Cassian to thank, too, considering he’d also played his ass off and kept Rhys from getting pummeled.

Their success was echoing through the city on excited whispers. Both of them had already turned their phones off they were getting so many calls from team managers.

They walked into the wonderfully slow bar, nodded to the few people still around who luckily didn’t ask for pictures, and went to find Azriel.

He was sitting at the bar, chatting to the bartender. Even though the bartender was hands-down one of the most attractive women he’d ever seen, it was the woman near Azriel that gave Rhys pause.

Cassian saw the look on his face, smirked, and nodded toward the empty chair between Az and the girl.

A good end to a good night.

He winked, then slid in the chair, nodded to Az--who rolled his eyes--, and turned to the woman.

She had clear blue-gray eyes, dark blonde hair, and full lips. She was... exotic. Different.

He smiled confidently and said, “Hey. How you doing?”

It was a simple line, but one that worked countless times when paired with a southern accent.

He couldn’t tell if the look on her face was amusement or shock. “Where the hell are you from?”

That reaction was one he was used to, so he grinned and said, “Virginia.”

“What are you doing in Boston, then?”

He couldn’t stop his eyebrows from pulling together. She was in a sports bar, where his face had just been plastered on every TV for four hours, but she didn’t know who he was? “Work,” he said simply.

Rhys could feel his best friends’ eyes on him, but he ignored them. “So, what’s your-”

The girl turned to the bartender, ignoring him completely, and said, “Mor, I’m going to make a call.” She cut her eyes toward the men around her and murmured, “Watch my drink.”

Every single one of their eyebrows shot up. Did they look that much like criminals? Sure, they wore a lot of black, but every one of them were multi-millionaires. Did he come off like a date-raper or something?

The bartender, Mor apparently, rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t take it personally. Even balls to the wall drunk, she’s cautious.”

Rhys could tell there was more to that story but shrugged and asked for a beer.

Mor slid it across the counter and smiled knowingly. “She’s pretty, right?”

He just turned to Azriel and asked, “How have you been, man? Did you report the game?”

“Yeah, they had me follow your stats the whole time. Boring shit,” he replied, laughing.

“I bet you could hardly talk fast enough.”

“Cocky bastard,” Cassian muttered.

Azriel nodded to the bartender and said, “This is Mor, by the way. I’ve known her since I left the NFL. Mor, this--as I’m sure you know--is Rhysand and Cassian, although I call them Dumbass 1 and 2.”

“You’re a funny, funny man,” Rhys muttered.

Mor’s friend came back and slid into her seat. Mor put another drink on the counter. The woman raised an eyebrow. “I said one drink, Morrigan.”

“Morrigan? Jesus, you’re already drunk aren’t you?”

Before she could respond, Az said, “Mor, perhaps you’d like to introduce the guys to your friend?”

She smiled and said, “Guys, this is Feyre Archeron, my very best friend who loves me so much she’ll stay and have another drink.”

“Since you’re buying,” Feyre said sweetly, picking the drink up. “And because I know you’ll make me feel bad about leaving so soon.”

Cassian asked, his accent even thicker than Rhys’s, “Why the bad mood, gorgeous?”

She turned and leveled a look at him. “I’d rather be doing something else.”

Rhys rolled his eyes as his best friend leaned down towards the woman and smiled slowly. “Well, you should’ve told me sooner. I’d be glad to do something else with you, baby.”

Azriel and Rhys both looked at each other and shook their heads. Cassian flirted with everyone. It drove them insane, but it was at least predictable.

The woman unlucky enough to have his current affections set her drink down with a little too much aggression, making Rhys chuckle. “What’s your name?”

“Cassian,” he replied confidently.

“Cassian, believe me when I tell you I have absolutely no interest in having sex with you. Leave me alone and go shook a chicken or something.”

The look on Cassian’s face was priceless, and Rhys bit his lip to keep his laugh in. Like Rhys, he was used to women being very... open to his suggestions.

Before Cass could even retort, the woman looked to her friend and asked, “Who the hell are these guys? Your friends?”

Mor pointed to Azriel and responded, “He is my friend. Those two rednecks,” she jerked her head toward Rhys and Cassian, “I don’t vouch for.”

Rhys put a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “We’re Azriel’s friends, which makes us pre-vouched.” He turned to Feyre and smiled. “You single?”

________________________________________

“No,” Feyre said at the exact same time Mor yelled, “Yes!”

The man next to her smiled smugly. “Since you’re single, let me buy you another drink.” She opened her mouth, but he said quickly, “Say yes. It’s just one drink, darling.”

His accent was so ridiculous, it sounded like he should be riding on the back of a horse in cowboy boots and a hat.

“I said I’d have one drink,” she stated to Mor. “I’ve had two. I’m going home.”

“Of course you are.” Her best friend sighed dramatically. “You don’t care about me at all, do you? I haven’t seen you in a month, and you come to my bar and stay for all of ten minutes-”

“Mor-”

“Then try to leave, and I probably won’t see you for another-”

Feyre gave in with a huff. “Oh, my god, fine! I’ll stay. You’re so damn dramatic.”

Her best friend jumped up and down like a toddler, clapping her hands stupidly.

“Now I don’t have an excuse, do I?” She tried not to roll her eyes at how big Rhysand’s smile grin grew.

“Don’t get so excited. I’m just using you for liquor.”

“Fine by me,” he replied smoothly. “I’m trying to get you drunk.”

Despite herself, she laughed. She wasn’t used to such honesty. She definitely wasn’t going home with the guy, but she couldn’t deny how insanely attractive he was to her. The kind of attractive that drove women crazy.

He was so tall, he towered over her even sitting down. He had dark hair, tan skin, and the most unique shade of eye color. They seemed almost purple and practically glowed as they raked over her.

She turned to Mor and gestured for another drink. “You associate yourself with the strangest people.”

Mor just shrugged.

“So, what do all do for work?” she asked the men around her, trying to make conversation.

Rhys quickly said, “We’re- uh- in sports.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he didn’t give her a chance to ask any more questions. “What about you?”

She saw Mor roll her eyes, but she kept it simple as she said, “I’m a scientist.”

“That explains it,” Cassian said with a laugh.

This man had a special talent for pushing peoples’ buttons, it seemed.

She turned to him and narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to go ahead and guess that you ‘being in sports’ means you’re a football player, since everyone in this city is so obsessed with the sport. And you know what? Between the constant head trauma and the accent...” She looked him up and down with narrowed eyes, then said sweetly, “It explains a lot.”

Rhysand launched into a coughing fit. She saw Azriel glance towards Mor, but her best friend just shrugged and said, “Not a big football fan.”

“We can tell,” Cassian muttered.

“What kind of scientist are you?” Rhys asked, ignoring his friend.

Mor sighed, but Feyre said, “It’s complicated, but I’m basically a nuclear chemistry-”

“It is boring as hell, I assure you all,” Mor cut in.

Feyre rolled her eyes and sipped her drink.

Mor got a strange look on her face, bent down, and grabbed a bottle of tequila. “Who wants a shot?”

All three men at the bar raised their hand. Feyre just rolled her eyes. Looks like it was going to be a long night.

_____________________________________

As Feyre got up to use the bathroom, ignoring all of their taunts about having a small bladder, the bartender looked at Rhys and waggled her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Oh, we’re going to act like you weren’t just eyeing my best-friend’s ass?” She laughed, then said, “Feyre.”

“What about Feyre?” he said, keeping his voice neutral.

He liked her, sure. Over the past couple hours, she’d loosened up around him. She was... funny. And smart. And sarcastic.

And yeah, she was beautiful as all hell. He’d love to take her home, but... he wasn’t a relationship guy. Football took all of his time, and he traveled practically every weekend. The women he slept with were all young and didn’t care about anything other than his latest game.

Feyre was different.

“You like her, don’t you?” The bartender was nosy, that was for sure.

“She’s... serious.”

Mor raised her eyebrows, clearly waiting for him to continue, so he said, “I don’t date. And Feyre is... serious. She probably wants a relationship and marriage and all sorts of shit-”

“You know,” Mor interrupted, “I thought people were crazy for saying a southern accent makes people stupid. But you have got to be one of the biggest idiots I’ve ever met if you think that girl wants a relationship.”

“What?”

“She works over fifteen hours a day. Spends all her time in a hospital with nerds looking in a microscope. She wants nothing to do with a relationship, let alone marriage. Trust me.”

“Oh.”

The woman rolled her eyes and nodded to where Feyre was walking back to them.

Before she made it to the bar, he turned to Cassian and said quietly, “Get a ride back with Az.”

“Gladly. I hate that truck.”

He glanced toward Feyre and muttered, “Now, idiot.”

Cassian, brilliant actor he was, yawned obnoxiously and said, “Well. I’m gonna hit the hay.” He winked at Feyre. “It was nice meeting you, honey. Call me if you ever need some southern hospitality.”

She shook her head but a smile ghosted on her lips.

“I’ll refrain from the innuendo, but it was nice meeting you, too,” Azriel said to Feyre.

Mor followed the two of them toward the exit to say goodbye.

“You’ve had too much to drink to drive home,” Rhys stated as soon as they were alone. Feyre laughed, clearly onto his game.

He rose and extended a hand. “Come on. I’ll drive you back. I only had one drink.”

“Is this your version of southern hospitality?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

She seemed to consider this, then murmured, “It’s very different from Cassian’s.”

Rhys smiled. “I’d be happy to show you that version. Let me drive you home.”

“I live close to here,” she laughed. “I’m walking.”

He tried not to be too disappointed. The odds of her taking him home were slim anyway-

She slid off the stool and put a hand on his arm. “But Boston can be a dangerous city. Come with?”

_____________________________________________________

Rhysand got up from his seat and threw an arm around her shoulders. “Lead the way, darling.”

“You really have to stop calling me that. You sound ridiculous.”

She didn’t really mean it, though. His accent was... different. Sexy. He was sexy. Something he was most definitely aware of, but Feyre currently didn’t care.

Cobwebs.

He was funny and seemed nice enough and...

She ignored Mor’s knowing smile as they left, telling her she’d call her later.

“I have a feeling you’ll be busy,” she said knowingly.

She ignored that, too.

As they started the short walk toward Feyre’s townhouse, his arm still slung across her shoulders, she asked, “So, did you win tonight?”

She could feel his chest rumble as he laughed. “Yeah, we won.”

“And you played the...”

“Steelers.”

“Right. Congratulations, then.”

He seemed to think her lack of football-knowledge was amusing. “Why the hell do you live in Boston?” he asked with a smile.

She froze.

“What do you mean?” she said, trying to be casual.

She led them around a corner that led to her block.

“You hate football. You don’t like crowds. You could probably work anywhere. Why not live somewhere else?”

They walked up to her house, and she answered simply, “I moved here to do my PhD at Harvard, and they offered me a job. Made sense.”

“And do you like it here?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

She smiled, unlocked her door, and replied, “Ask me in an hour.”

He mirrored her grin, then pushed her by the shoulders through the door. “Give me two, and it’ll be your favorite place in the world.”

Feyre laughed, locked the door, then turned to him. Leaning against the door, she looked him up and down and muttered, “Clocks ticking, Rhysand.”

________________________________________________________

As Rhys opened his eyes, he was wonderfully aware of the weight atop him.

The naked weight.

Blowing Feyre’s hair out of his face, he smiled as she murmured something in her sleep. She was probably tired.

They hadn’t gotten much sleep.

Given how cautious she was when they’d first met, he’d half expected her to kick him out pretty early. Needless to say, he’d been pleasantly surprised.

When the feeling of her on top of him grew to be too tempting, he ran his fingers through her hair and murmured her name.

She shook her head, making him grin.

His fingers drifted over her back and he loved the way she felt in his arms. After a minute, she turned her head, chin resting on his chest, and looked up at him.

“Good morning,” she said simply.

He just pulled her up to him, pressing his lips to hers. She smiled against him, legs coming up to straddle his waist.

Rhys took in their position and smiled, leaning up to kiss his way up her neck. His lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “Cowgirl’s your favorite position isn’t it? And you say I’m country.”

He snickered, proud of his joke, then practically choked on the sound as she slid herself onto him. “Shit, Feyre.”

"No more jokes, Rhysand?” she murmured, rocking her hips slowly.

“Just Rhys,” he panted. He leaned forward to take one of her breasts into his mouth, and she gasped, the sound music to his ears.

“Rhys,” she moaned, fingers digging into his back.

“Yes, Feyre?” He gripped her hips to keep her still as he asked, “Do you need something?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he tried not to grin.

“I said ‘Good morning.’ Don’t make me liar.”

This woman would be the death of him. He laughed and released her hips, reveling in how she responded to every movement, every touch.

She picked up the pace, and Rhys just sat there with his teeth gritted and tried not to ruin the moment for both of them.

He could tell when she was close, her legs tightening around him, voice shaking as she called out his name. He pulled her hair, kissing up her exposed neck and across her jaw to her ear.

“Come for me, Feyre darling,” he whispered, pulling on the shell with his teeth.

She moaned, falling apart in his arms, and Rhys had to use sheer will to wait until she was done to finish.

This woman... was the definition of seduction. Even after a whole night together, he couldn’t get enough.

As they came down together, he looked at her and smirked. “Good morning.”

She smiled and kissed him, biting his lips gently. Even though he’d just had her, his body was ready for more.

He was about to flip them over when she ruined the moment and said, “You have to leave.”

She climbed off him, and he watched with amusement as she sprung from the bed, ripped the sheet off of him, and started pacing around the room.

She found his pants at him and threw them at him. “I’m serious, Rhys. I have to... do stuff.”

He ignored the clothes on his chest. They were both completely naked, and if he had anything to say about it, they’d stay that way for a while. “Like what? You told Mor you have the day off.”

“I do, but-”

“Then come here.”

She crossed her arms. “Rhysand.”

He sat up and extended a hand. “Just shut up and come here. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

_________________________________________________________

Oh, I’m sure you will, Feyre thought as she rolled her eyes and took his hand.

Then gasped as he used the other hand to rip the sheet off her and throw her on her bed.

She barely had time to process before he was on top of her, pressing kisses across her chest, down her stomach. Further.

Sweet Jesus, she thought. The man hadn’t let her sleep more than two hours last night. Not that she was complaining. The cobwebs were completely gone, that was for sure.

A moan escaped her lips as his teeth scraped her thigh, and he chuckled. She was about to flick his shoulder, but then his lips slid higher, and every thought emptied our of her head.

She couldn’t keep herself still as he kissed her, so he held her hips with both hands.

Hers found themselves in his hair and she pulled as he ran his tongue up her center.

“Rhys, baby,” she panted. She didn’t care how she sounded. Didn’t care about anything but the sight of his head buried between her legs.

She didn’t know if it was because she was out of practice or because he was some sort of sex god, but she was already close. Again.

By the time she came, her entire body was limp with pleasure and she was close to seeing stars.

When she opened her eyes, he was above her, smirking like a cat.

He leaned down to kiss her, but she flicked his nose in annoyance.

“If you try and fuck me again before I get some food, I’ll strangle you.”

Ignoring the warning, he buried his head in her neck and tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Feyre darling.”

She laughed against her better judgement, but pushed his shoulders until he let her up. If she didn’t eat something, she might pass out when they went again.

She grabbed his t-shirt from last night and threw it on as she walked to her kitchen. It came down to practically her knees, making her look ridiculous, but she didn’t care. It was soft and big and smelled like him.

“Pancakes?” she asked, turning around to catch him looking at her in amusement. At what she was wearing.

She raised an eyebrow, daring him to say something.

“Pancakes would be great.”

Feyre ignored the look in his eyes and started cooking. And kept ignoring it as he watched.

Every time she looked at him, he looked like he was five seconds away from throwing her over his shoulder and dragging her back to bed.

The idea of messing with him a little more was too tempting to ignore.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered secretively, reaching into her fridge.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but gave in when she raised her eyebrows.

She used a finger to tip his head backward, then whispered, “Open your mouth.”

His lips curved into a smile, then opened. She took the can of Ready Whip and sprayed some whip cream in his mouth, laughing as his purple eyes shot open, full of amusement.

“Cute,” he muttered, swallowing the whip cream.

She leaned in and licked some of the remainder off his bottom lip. He froze, then reached for her. Before he could get those arms around her, she walked to the stove and took the pancakes off.

Sliding an unhealthy amount toward him, she said, “Eat your breakfast, dear.”

Rhys gave her an annoyingly perfect smile and devoured the food. She looked at him as he ate, wondering how he looked like a Greek god when he ate like... that.

He looked up as he finished and laughed at the look on her face. “Baby, don’t invite a football player over if you don’t expect him to eat all your food.”

She took their plates and stuck them in the sink. When she turned around, he immediately strode over and grabbed her face, pulling her lips to his.

He kissed her thoroughly, then pulled back far enough to say, “Meet me in your bedroom.” Another kiss. “And Feyre? Bring that whip cream.”

__________________________________________________________

By the time Rhysand left, Feyre could hardly stand up. She had no idea how she was going to make it through her shift tomorrow, given that she was so exhausted she could sleep probably for a day straight.

That’s when she realized that for the first time in her career, she didn’t want to go to work. She wanted to call Rhysand and tell him to come back.

That’s not an option.

A relationship was out of the question. It’d be cruel to him to invite him back, knowing it would never go anywhere. For all she knew, he was trying to settle down. With a nice girl who’d give up her life to have his babies and be a football wife.

Hell no.

As she got out of the shower, giggling at how shaky her legs were, she told herself to forget him.

But when the phone rang, she was surprisingly disappointed when she looked at the caller id and saw it wasn’t him.

As soon as she picked up, Mor practically yelled, “How was it?!”

“How was what, Mor?”

“The sex last night, idiot. Was it good? I bet it was good. You don’t look like that and not have a seriously huge-”

“Mor! Calm down.”

She could tell her best friend was enjoying this way too much. “I’ll calm down when you tell me. Everything.”

Feyre laughed, then gave in and asked, “What do you want to know?”

“How long did he stay? Oh, you made him walk back to his truck in the middle of the night, didn’t you? Mean woman.”

When she didn’t respond, Mor pushed, “Unless you didn’t. When did he leave, Feyre? Hm?”

“An hour ago,” she admitted.

The howl that Mor let out was practically inhuman. “Oh my god! You nasty bitch! Or, wait. Is he the nasty bitch?”

Feyre laughed. “You have no idea.”

“I cannot believe you let him stay all day. He must be good. He’s good isn’t he?”

She didn’t have to think back to remember the answer to that question. “You have no idea,” she repeated.

Mor laughed. “I’m so happy for you. Are you seeing him again?”

“No, probably not.”

She stopped laughing. “And why the hell not?”

“I don’t date. It wouldn’t be fair to him to keep sleeping with him and lead him on-”

“You’re both idiots.”

That stopped her. “What?”

Mor sighed on the other end of the call. “He doesn’t date. At all. He’s seen with 20 year old blondes who probably don’t know their head from their ass. You don’t have to worry about him trying to tie you down.”

“Oh,” she said stupidly.

Of course he wasn’t the dating type. He was a professional athlete. Women probably threw themselves at him.

“For someone so smart, you really are an idiot.”

“You have a point. Look, I have to go. I’ll call you later.” It was only eight PM, but she could hardly keep her eyes open.

“Worn out, aren’t you?” Mor asked in a knowing voice.

“Good night, Morrigan.”

____________________________________________________________

Rhys wasn’t surprised to see Azriel and Cassian in his apartment when he got back the next day.

“You dirty dog,” Cassian said smugly, throwing a pillow at his head.

Rhys smiled and told him to shut his fat mouth. “What are you idiots doing here? Get evicted?”

“Waiting on your ass,” Azriel said. “We’re going out.”

“Not everyone got laid last night,” Cassian said sourly. “Ruined a good win.”

Az and Rhys both ignored him. “Wanna come?”

“I’m gonna crash, actually. I have an early meeting tomorrow with coach.” It was an excuse; he’d barely made it home without falling asleep at the wheel.

“Mmhm, an early meeting with coach,” Cassian said knowingly. “More like a late night with a pretty blonde.”

Rhysand just winked and said, “We made sure to avoid your seat in the truck.”

“Disgusting,” his best friend said bitterly as the pair walked toward the door. “I hate that truck.”

As soon as the door swung close behind them, Rhys showered and passed out.

_______________________________________________________

Three days later, Rhys was watching highlights from the game when his phone rang. He smiled as he saw the caller ID.

“Unless the hospital is calling to tell me I’m dying,” he said as he picked up, “I’m going to assume this is Miss Feyre Archeron.”

“Wow, an athlete with a brain,” the sarcasm flowed through the line clearly.

“I’m a package deal, baby. So, what’s up?” If this was a booty call, he’d make her say it. He’d definitely give in, but he’d make her ask first.

“I don’t date,” she blurted suddenly.

He paused, then said, “Me either.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he just mimicked, “Okay.”

“Then come over.”

Rhysand smiled, looking at his watch. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

_____________________________________________________

Two months later, they’d spent practically every night together. Either he’d stay at her house and get kicked out at the ass crack of dawn when she left for work, or she’d stay with him and he’d wake up alone.

On the rare days her boss forbade her from working, they’d spend all day together, running errands, cooking, fooling around. Hell, she’d even come to one of his football practices. “Out of pure boredom,” she’d claimed.

He’d never tell her, but seeing her had become the best part of his day.

Sure, he’d resigned his contract for the next year to keep his dream job, but even that paled in comparison to her coming over. He’d started to depend on her. He’d started to care about her.

Only Cassian--who gave him shit about it daily--knew. And had been told to keep his mouth shut about it.

Because he knew that as soon as he told Feyre, she’d bolt. He just had no idea why.

Sure, he’d said he didn’t date. He was thirty-eight and had a terrible relationship track record, having only had a handful of serious ones. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try, right?

He’d never felt like this before... never been so desperate to spend time with someone. And it wasn’t just the sex like he’d thought for the first few weeks.

Because even when they weren’t having sex, he wanted to be around her. Wanted to hear her laugh, the one she let out when he surprised her or she made fun of his accent. Wanted to see her smile. Wanted to see her asleep in his bed, wearing his t-shirt.

He wanted her.

Ridiculous.

The first woman to openly not want a relationship with him, he can’t get out of his mind.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he noticed her staring up at him. “What?” he asked, worried everything he’d been thinking was written on his face.

“Nothing,” she said for the fifth time, stifling a giggle.

He rolled his eyes. “Just say it.”

“I cannot believe Dirty Dancing is your favorite movie!” She exploded, gesturing to the screen as if he were blind. “You’re a football player.”

“Which means I can’t have a good taste in movies?”

She shrugged. “It’s just not what I was expecting when you suggested we watch a movie. I figured you just wanted to come out here and have sex again.”

He grinned. “I did that for your sake. I figured if we stayed in bed any longer, you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

With her head on a pillow in his lap, she looked completely adorable as she looked up and stuck her tongue out at him. “How considerate.”

“Southern hospitality knows no limits.”

As they watched the movie, Rhys couldn’t help but sneak glances at her. She was... distracting. The ocean eyes, full mouth, and delicate features were pretty much a constant distraction for him.

When the final scene started playing out, Rhys grinned like an idiot and said, “Dance with me, Feyre Archeron.”

“What?”

“Come on. I wanna show you something.” He took her hand, hauled her off the couch, and took her to the biggest open space in his apartment.

He put his hands on her shoulders and told her to stay put, then walked to the other side of the room.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she said immediately, realizing what he had planned. “Absolutely not.”

Rhysand laughed and said, “Run and jump.”

“Hell no! You’ll drop me.” She crossed her arms and stayed put.

He rolled his eyes. “I promise I won’t drop you. You’re about a hundred pounds soaking wet.”

“No.”

“Chicken.”

“Excuse me?” she asked incredulously. “You seriously think that’s going to work on me?”

“Yep.”

“You’re right,” she admitted, barely giving him any time to prepare as she ran toward him, yelped, and jumped.

His hands wrapped around her waist as he lifted her up above his shoulders. She hollered like a wounded cat, but she stayed in the air and lifted her legs as he spun her around slowly.

She giggled as he held her up, and the sound was so adorable that as he let her down, he slowly dipped her. Her hair brushed the floor as he held her, wrapped his arms around her, and pressed a kiss to her lips.

He could tell she was surprised when she froze, but then she melted into him.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him close and opened her mouth for him. It was like it was the first time they’d kissed, and he couldn’t get enough. He kissed her like his life depended on it, and she responded to every movement. She sighed into his mouth and he drank the sound in.

When he finally brought her back up and pulled away, she had tears in her eyes.

“What?” he asked, concerned.

Feyre’s brow was creased as she brought a hand to her mouth. “I have to go,” she whispered.

“Feyre.”

She paced around his apartment, picking up her clothes and throwing them on as she went. “I have an early morning tomorrow.”

“You always have an early morning. What’s wrong?”

She pulled her boots on, zipped her jacket, and smiled tightly. “Nothing’s wrong. I’ll... see you later.”

He didn’t have time to say anything before she sped out the door.

Shit.

______________________________________________________

“He kissed me,” she said as soon as Mor answered the phone.

A pause. “He hasn’t kissed you before?”

Feyre sped down the road to her house, explaining, “Of course he’s kissed me. But this was different. He dipped me, Mor. Like actual dipping. And he kissed me. Not to get in my pants, but just because. Like he couldn’t stop himself.”

“Oh. You think he has feelings for you?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to find out.” This was the last thing she needed. The past month had been good. So good.

But it had to end. She didn’t want a relationship... even if the idea of never seeing him again hurt so much she couldn’t breathe.

He’d become someone to her in the two months they’d spent together. And even though it’d hurt like hell, she had to cut it off. Before it got worse.

“Feyre-”

“Don’t ‘Feyre’ me. I’m fine.”

Her best friend didn’t let up. “No, you’re not. Ever since Tamlin, ever since that night, you haven’t been fine.”

“Stop talking. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“Mor-”

“He hurt you, and now you don’t trust men. You got freaked out tonight because this thing with Rhysand could be real, and you’re scared. You’re scared if you let yourself love him, he’ll hurt you.”

Feyre suddenly yelled, “Wouldn’t you be?”

The line went silent, so she continued, “Yeah, I’m fucked up because of my marriage. It’s pretty easy to figure out. But wouldn’t you be? I was with Tamlin for eight years! Did you know that after hearing your worthless and pathetic and that you deserve what happens to you for so long, you start to believe it? So unless you’ve dealt with that for eight years and been trapped in a marriage to someone like that for eight years, don’t you dare bring it up to me. I have to go.”

She didn’t give Mor a chance to respond as she hung up.

She pulled into her driveway, took a deep breath and told herself the tears flowing down her cheeks were from her fight with Mor.

_______________________________________________________

“We’re closed,” Mor yelled as Rhys walked in the bar, then looked up and froze. “Oh.”

“Tell me, Mor. Tell me what happened to her.” He knew there was a reason she’d been freaked out after he kissed her. He just didn’t know what it was.

“To who?”

He came and sat in one of the bar stools, leveling a look at her. “To Feyre. Why did me kissing her send her running for the hills? I know she told you. She hasn’t answered my calls in six days.”

She shrugged, trying to make herself look casual. “Maybe she’s just not into you.”

“She’s into me.”

Mor snapped, “Maybe she’s not.”

His eyes softened, and she knew he saw it for the lie it was. “What happened to her?”

He could tell she was struggling with not telling him. She might not. But he wanted to fight for her. Wanted to make her happy. He just had to know how.

She took a deep breath and said, “Feyre and I used to live in New York, you know. That’s where we’re from. And Feyre was married.”

He nodded for her to continue.

“They got married young, and he... changed. He... just.. he was so angry. All the time.” She took a shaky breath.

“At first, I didn’t notice it. I didn’t see that anything was wrong. But one night, about five years into their marriage, I went to their apartment for dinner, and I saw that she had makeup on her cheek. Not a lot, but... like she was covering something up.” A tear that rolled down her cheek.

“And he saw. That bastard saw me notice it.” She wiped her cheeks, trying to compose herself. “And I didn’t see her for three years. He wouldn’t let her go anywhere besides work. And he hardly let that happen.”

Rhys closed his eyes sadly, but she continued. “I didn’t see my best friend for three years. Until she showed up in the emergency room.”

His eyes snapped open.

“I’m her emergency contact. I don’t know why she never changed it when she got married, but she didn’t. So I got the call, and drove to the hospital, and she was-”

She swallowed a sob. “She was in a coma for two days.”

Mor cleared her throat. “When she woke up, I don’t know how to describe it. She was... different. I helped her divorce him and get a restraining order, but it wasn’t easy. He controlled all her shit. Bank accounts, everything. She was never the same. We left, packed up, and moved to Boston together. She didn’t want him to know where she lived. I think... sometime I think she’s still scared he’ll track her down.”

“It took her three years to even go on a date. Another to have sex. She says she’s fine, but ever since that night, she won’t let herself actually let anyone in her life. She’s always been a workaholic, but after what happened... I don’t know. It’s like moving on, having a life, makes her remember her life before.”

Mor sobbed, “And I don’t know how to help her. Because he’s a cop, you know. That’s why it was so hard for her to leave him. We had to go to the freaking governor to get the restraining order.”

A sob wracked her body, so Rhys leaned across the bar and pulled her into a hug. It made sense. Why him showing any sort of feelings freaked her out. Why she’d been cautious around him, Cassian, and Az when they’d first met. Why she didn’t want a relationship with him.

But it didn’t mean he couldn’t fight for her. That he couldn’t tell her that he’d never hurt her.

“Mor,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

She pulled back and wiped her eyes. “Well, now you do.”

“I want to be with her.”

She nodded, and smiled sadly. “I know.”

“And she wants to be with me, too.”

Mor nodded again. “Go get your girl, Rhysand. But, just be careful. And I swear to God, if you’re anything like him-”

“I’m not,” he interjected.

“-I’ll shoot you. I’m not making the same mistake twice.”

“I’m never going to hurt her. You can count on that. Do you think she’s still at the hospital? If she’s not going to answer the phone, I’m gonna track her ass down.”

________________________________________________________

Feyre scribbled down her note, then peered back into the microscope. She knew it was late, but it’s not like she had anywhere to be. The thought sent a pang through her chest, but she ignored it.

She was so distracted thinking about how big of a mess she was that she didn’t hear him come in the lab.

“Feyre,” a familiar male voice said from behind her.

She spun around and opened her mouth to scream, but he was faster. She cried out as his fist connected with her ribs, but he stifled the noise when he slapped a hand over her mouth and shoved her against the door.

She tried to swing a fist toward him, but he pinned her arms against the door.

“It’s been a long time,” Tamlin said, smiling. “It took me a long time to track you down. You know how I found you? Paparazzi posted a picture of you leaving some football player’s apartment at three in the morning. Little whore.”

She whimpered as he squeezed her jaw.

“So I came to see you. At first, I wanted to punish you. You were my wife. Mine. And then you go and divorce me. For no reason. I wanted to know why.”

Howie, she thought desperately. If she could signal Howie, he’d come and save her.

She ignored what he was saying, blocked it out, and bit his hand as hard as she could.

Tamlin jumped back with a surprised yelp and she barely had a chance to scream before his fist connected with her eye. She fell to the ground and he kicked her in the side, making her curl into a ball.

“You bitch! Why are you screaming? If you’re trying to get that fat security guard, he can’t hear you.”

No one’s coming. A tear ran down her cheek onto the floor.

“Now, as I was saying,” he continued as if nothing had happened. “At first, I wanted to punish you. I had it all planned out.”

He knelt on the floor, brushing the hair off her cheek.

“But then I realized something. I realized you ruined my life. You told everyone I worked with, hell you told the governor, that I abused you. You got me kicked off the force.”

“Why are you here? What do you want?”

Please leave please leave me alone-

“I want you to suffer for what you did-”

“I do-”

Her cheek stung as a palm connected with it, making her cry out.

“Do not interrupt me again.” His voice was so cold, so calculating. “I want you to suffer. I want you to lose everything, like I did. But the only thing you ever cared about is work. And I couldn’t get you fired. No, you’re too good at your job.”

She shook with fear as he smiled down at her.

“But then I thought, if the job won’t lose you, you can lose the job.”

He ran a thumb over her lip, and she was paralyzed with fear when she realized the bitter taste in her mouth was gas.

“What did you do?” she asked softly.

His fist closed around her throat. She clawed at his hand, kicked at him, tried everything, but she was stuck. It had never mattered how hard she fought.

When her vision started to fade, he let go.

“Don’t question me,” he snapped as Feyre hauled oxygen into her burning lungs.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a lighter, grinning down at her.

Feyre’s stomach bottomed out.

She had to think, had to do something. Or else she was going to die in here.

“You were so consumed by your work, you didn’t even smell the gas I lined this fucking room with. Always so distracted by your work.”

He laughed softly, “And now you’ll burn with it.”

He flicked the lighter open, and time seemed to stand still. Feyre didn’t let herself hesitate as she reached onto the counter, grabbed the beaker she knew was sitting there, and broke it over Tamlin’s head.

He swore and closed the lighter, then swung at her. She rolled away from him, placing a kick in between his legs that had him gasping for air.

She got up and sprinted for the door. Her fingers were closing around the handle when he caught up to her, grabbing her head and slamming her face into the metal door frame.

Feyre sank to the floor, and Tamlin knelt in front of her. She tasted blood, felt it running down her face, and knew from experience her nose was broken.

As he punched her in the stomach, she could tell she’d have a ruptured spleen.

He was still dripping wet from the beaker, but he leaned close and laughed.

He opened the lighter close to her face, the heat warming her skin.

“You always were a fighter.”

This is it. If she didn’t fight now, it was over. He’d drop that lighter, and they’d both go up in flames. Together at last.

Gritting her teeth, she told herself she wasn’t going to die here tonight. She was going to live.

She was going to kill her ex-husband.

Bringing her knees close, she rallied her strength and kicked his chest as hard as she could. As he fell backward, she jumped to her feet.

Before he could react, she grabbed the lighter out of his hand, threw it on his chest, and rushed out the door.

What Tamlin hadn’t realized when he’d lined the room with gas was that there were more chemicals in there than anywhere else in the hospital. He didn’t even have to use gasoline. But now that he had, one open flame, and the whole place was going to blow.

She ignored the growing flames on the other side of the glass as she engaged the door’s security lock. Ignored Tamlin’s screams as the petrol from the beaker reacted with the oxygen in the air and the present flame, erupting in flames twenty times hotter than usual.

She ignored everything happening around her except Rhysand.

Rhysand, who was running toward her, a confused and terrified look on his face.

She had no idea what he was doing here, but she sprinted full force at him, also ignoring the fact that he was a professional football player. She wrapped her arms around him and tackled him to the ground as the room behind her erupted.

Glass and debris and pieces of paper still on fire rained down on them as she looked down at him.

She laid on top of him, shielding him as best she could, and grabbed his face. Please be alive, please be alive.

His eyes shot open, arms coming around her to brush debris off her back.

“Feyre, are you all right? What the hell happened?” His voice was fuzzy, like she was underwater.

She probably had a concussion from where Tamlin had slammed her against the door.

Tamlin.

Tamlin was dead. She’d killed Tamlin.

“He’s dead,” she whispered. “He’s dead.”

Rhys was shaking her, telling her to stay awake. Alarms were going off, the sprinkler system sensing the fire and raining a flood down on them.

He was screaming her name.

She just looked at him and smiled softly. “I love you, by the way,” she whispered. Like it was the easiest thing she’d ever said. Like she’d been waiting to say it.

“I love you,” she whispered again.

Then passed out.

_______________________________________________________

There was something warm and heavy on her lap. And it had hair.

She opened her eyes and looked down at Rhys, peacefully sleeping with his head resting on her legs.

Gently, she ran a hand through his hair.

She was in a hospital bed, that much was obvious. There were probably police men outside waiting for a statement from her about why her much-beloved lab had been blown to pieces under her watch.

She knew from experience that as soon as she officially woke up, she’d be surrounded be nurses and police officers and doctors asking how she felt and...

She ran a finger down Rhys’s cheek.

She knew he was awake when his mouth twisted into a smile and he murmured, “Do that again.”

She did.

His eyes opened to meet hers, full of worry and passion and anger.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi.” He picked his head up and put a hand on her cheek. “You’re so beautiful. This gown suits you.”

She knew he said it to distract her, and smile tugged at her lips, even as tears sprung to her eyes.

She was in the hospital. Again. Because of her ex-husband. And Rhys was here. He’d probably never look at her the same after this. Would probably pity her now.

He leaned in, and she thought he was about to kiss her, but his mouth landed on her cheek instead. As he licked her tear off her face.

“That’s disgusting,” she murmured, not pushing him away as he moved to the other cheek.

He pulled back and grinned.

“Mor told me about your ex-husband,” he said softly.

Before she could reply, he surprised her by murmuring, “And I honestly don’t know why you say you don’t have any country in you.”

Had he hit his head when she’d tackled him?

“What?”

“Considering you barbecued his ass,” he finished with a laugh.

Despite how awful and wrong that was, a giggle escaped her. And another. And another, until she was laughing along with him.

“That’s so fucked up,” she said, still smiling.

“Yeah, it is, but it’s all I’ve been able to think for the past four hours.”

Then his smile faded and his eyes grew serious. He put both hands on her face and pulled her close to him. “Feyre.”

“Rhysand.”

“It’s over now. He’s never going to hurt you again. No ones ever going to hurt you again. I’m so proud of you.” He said it all in the softest tone possible, and it made her chest hurt with how much she needed those words.

“I killed him,” she whispered, the reality of it crashing into her.

He shook his head. “You defended yourself. He was going to kill you. You fought like hell, and you won.”

Feyre nodded, pulling him closer until his weight was on top of her and his arms were around her.

“You kicked his ass,” he murmured through her hair. “My little brawler.”

She smiled, running her hands over his back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her.

She pulled back far enough to say, “What do you possibly have to be sorry for?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here faster and I didn’t protect you-”

“Rhysand.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head and flicked his nose. “Shut up.”

“Okay.”

He hugged her again. “You should know,” he said a moment later, pulling back to give her a smile, “that Mor is outside with Azriel and Cassian.”

“Oh, God.”

“Yeah. I think they had to give Mor a sedative to calm her down. I’ll go get her if you want.”

Feyre shook her head, deciding to give herself another moment before dealing with that brand of crazy.

“Do you remember what you said to me? After you tackled me? Which, by the way, was insanely sexy.”

She knew under the humor was a twinge of anxiety, so she said, “I could talk about the homo-eroticism of what you just said, but I’ll give you a break. You’re under a lot of stress.”

Rhysand grinned and raised an eyebrow.

“I love you,” she murmured. “You know I do.”

“I do,” he replied smugly, smirking like a cat. “I love you, too.”

He leaned down and kissed her softly, ignoring the probably nasty black eye and bruised jaw. He kissed her, and she didn’t care about anything in the world.

Until the door banged open.

“You’re awake and you didn’t tell me!” Mor screeched, running in the room and throwing herself on Feyre, bruises be dammed. “Of course you didn’t because you wanted a chance to make out with your boyfriend before you did. Selfish, Feyre! Selfish!”

“Mor,” she muttered, hugging her back tightly. “I’m awake.”

“You’re such a bitch,” he best friend laughed.

“I love you, too.”

Rhys laughed and got out of his chair, probably going to talk to his friends and update them.

For the first time in years, everything felt right. It felt good. She was excited for tomorrow, not because of work, but because for the first time in a long time, she had people in her life she was going to fight to keep there.

For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid.

_____________________________________________________

FUCK sorry this is so long! I literally had no intention of taking this route when I started writing it, but shit happens when it’s 2 am and you’ve had a long week.

As always, feel free to send me requests/asks/whatever. I love hearing from yall.

@bamchickawowow

#feysand #feysand fanfiction #rhysand #feyre #feyre archeron #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of dreams #a court of starlight and frost #feyreandrhysand #feyre darling #feyre x rhysand

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currywaifu · 4 years

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𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: a waltz to remember 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: tsukioka tsumugi/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 3.1k words

𝐚𝐧: I really liked this idea, so much that I got excited and wrote a lot of plot and lead-up to the floof oops. I might have made some errors w/ my waltz descriptions, it’s been a few years

“A modern, theatrical take on Swan Lake… hmm, wouldn’t that fit someone from the Spring troupe more?”

Izumi pouted, “I already asked! None of them are free to be a guest actor, you’re my only hope Tsumugi!”

Tsumugi considered the director’s offer. Truth be told, he wasn’t that familiar with the original ballet nor did he know what to expect out of a modern retelling, but it was always good to get experience in different genres and modes. He currently wasn’t expected to be in any Mankai Company plays either, so as long as he organized his tutoring schedule he should be fine.

Turning back to the director he nodded. “I’ll be taking the role then, director.”

Clapping her hands together, Izumi grinned excitedly. “I’ll make sure to tell their director! Ah, hold on, I haven’t told you what your role will be yet, oops.”

Sensing it, he immediately shook off the upcoming apology. “It’s fine, it’s my fault for not asking either. I didn’t agree to a weird role or anything, right?”

Shaking her head, the brunette looked at her phone. “It says here you’ll be playing the role of Wolfgang, Prince Siegfried’s tutor.”

A tutor? With a laugh, Tsumugi thought how fitting it must be for him to take this role. He doesn’t know much about the tutor’s personality, but at the very least he’s ready to deliver any teacher or educator type of action need be.

Though the feeling was nothing new with every new role he took, he found himself buzzing with excitement for the future practices to come.

“Thank you for taking up the role, Tsukioka-san,” the troupe president said, shaking his hand, “it’s a bit last minute, but Tachibana-san was kind enough to help me look for a guest actor.”

“Thank you for having me as well,” Tsumugi replied, “I read through the script and I can’t wait to become Wolfgang onstage.”

In the ballet, the tutor gets drunk on wine during Prince Siegfried’s birthday celebration. Eden Troupe’s playwright decided to transform that character, now nicknamed Wolfie, into a normally well-mannered tutor who has passionate rants about history when drunk.

Izumi and Tasuku had laughed when he told them. It was rare to have Tasuku laugh out loud, but they were also at a bar so that might have something to do with it.

“Eh? This role should be easy for you then! I was right to give it to you!” The director exclaimed, clapping him on the back with a lot more strength he thought possible from her.

His best friend shook his head in disbelief, “not too far off from the truth then, based on how the three of us are like when we drink.”

While the role itself was new, there was a sense of familiarity to it that made it easier for Tsumugi to slip into character. The lines themselves rolled off with ease from his tongue, and with guidance he trusted himself enough to embody the mannerisms of the character.

There was only one problem.

He watches you get up from your seat in the audience and head up the stage, your back turned to the chairs to face him and his fellow actors. You walked with such confidence that it was hard not to be captivated by your presence.

“Looks like I’m back again,” with a broad and charming grin several members of the troupe cheered loudly, while the newer and quieter members clapped politely.

“I see some new faces, welcome!”, you greeted everyone, telling them your name, “and I’ll be your choreographer!”

Dance. They had to dance and unfortunately for him and the poor souls that have to partner up with him, Tsumugi has two left feet.

The last time he was required to dance was probably way back in high school for a school play production, and no way did dancing to Seussical the Musical qualify as recent or relevant experience.

You threw a glance at him, noting his worried gaze, and tried to indirectly reassure him and the rest of the actors.

“I’m not a strict coach nor do I expect perfection right away, but what’s important is that you constantly put your best efforts. Understood?”

The actors all replied in chorus, and Tsumugi tried to reassure himself. At least it wasn’t some high energy, action-filled choreography or an overly technical dance. A waltz, he can do that much.

“Alright, let’s do some stretches first!”

…

“Ah! I’m sorry,” he’s been apologizing for a couple minutes now, and while he tried to keep it discreet between him and his dance partner it didn’t go unnoticed, at least by you.

You’ve been paying special attention to the man with dark blue hair for a while now. At first, you merely observing the unfamiliar faces, new additions to the troupe and guest actors, but something about him struck you as special.

When you watched him during rehearsal an hour ago, you had wondered if the president picked up a new talent. He was able to pull off the tutor’s initial modesty through his subtle acting, and in his silent acquiescence of a glass of wine, he switched into Wolfie, the talkative drunk who was incredibly passionate about history.

“Where’d you pick him up, prez? He’s obviously no rookie,” you asked the blond beside you, who simply chuckled.

“That’s Tsukioka Tsumugi, he belongs to Mankai Company actually,” he explained, “it’s his first rehearsal today. He seemed a bit anxious at first, but he’s doing really well.”

“Mankai? Should DM Izumi later to reserve a ticket for their next prod,” you murmured, quietly watching the rest of the rehearsal.

He didn’t show any signs of frustration, and he was obviously listening attentively when you did the demonstration, so was it a matter of a lack of practice?

Well, you were gonna find out.

…

Tsumugi had an idea of what was to come when you called him after rehearsals concluded.

“Tsumugi-kun, sorry for calling you all of a sudden,” you apologized with a bow, to which the actor returned.

“Not at all, I probably looked like a newborn fawn out there,” well, that much you couldn’t deny, however, you didn’t like that he was putting himself down after his first time. There have been a lot worse than him, whether it be talent or attitude or otherwise.

“It’s your first rehearsal, don’t be so hard on yourself,” you paused for a moment, closing your eyes.

Well, you didn’t plan on reaching out this much to help him, but somehow you couldn’t help yourself.

“Tsumugi-kun, would you like to have extra practice sessions with me?” Hmm… The wording seemed a little better in your head, but it seemed to get the message across.

He was hesitant to accept, “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“Trust me,” you clasped his hands between yours, missing the pink dotting his cheeks as you looked at him with determination in your eyes, “by the time you’re done with me you’d be able to waltz even with your eyes closed.”

“You really told him that? You made it sound like you were talking about a different kind of one-on-one~” Eden Troupe’s director let out a blaring cackle, slamming his beer glass down the bar table.

“Wahh, so naughty uwu ♡~ who knew our ☆ dancing diva ☆ was so forward~~” the troupe’s playwright said, rubbing his shoulders against yours, “why can’t you be like that with ♡ me ♡ wink wink oOF-“ a slight kick to his legs halted wherever that conversation was going to go.

Your head was beginning to hurt, and you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or whatever the hell you were all talking about. You could even hear the hearts and stars, how was that possible?

“Argh, unlike you perverts I’m sure he understood what I meant from the get-go,” you groaned, briefly swishing the liquid in your glass before downing it in one go. You’d probably end up with a hangover tomorrow but so be it if you could survive tonight without getting charged for homicide. Or maybe even double homicide.

“He’s not an angel, even if he does look like one~”

“Tsumugi-kun is one compared to the two of you. Do your troupe members know that behind closed curtains y’all share one brain cell?” You retorted, completely ignoring the latter comment because yeah, he did look like an angel, what’s there to it? So what if he radiated such a gentle light around him?

“I’m just saying, he’s your fucking type,” the troupe’s director pointed out, the man beside him nodding fervently.

“And I’m a fucking professional,” you insisted, not even an ounce of denial towards his statement.

Raising his hands, the playwright put on his most nonchalant look, a very difficult feat for a drunk person, “oya oya, who can say if y’all decide to bow-chicka-wow-wow, hohoho ☆~”

Calling the bartender for another drink, you came to the realization that you needed better friends.

Two days after the bar night out and your raging hangover the morning come, you could still feel a migraine coming at the thought of your two friends. Honestly? Fuck them for making you realize that Tsumugi was extremely cute and 200% your type, that wasn’t very fair of them- or HIM for that matter!

Is it even legal to be so cute? The two of you exchanged details on the optimal practice time, and even his texting style was cute! Who knew he’d be so polite even in text? Bless him.

You were going to meet up with Tsumugi at the Mankai Company Theatre, apparently, rehearsals would end earlier tonight so the two of you had the stage for yourselves. You looked around outside for a bit before a familiar face with dark blue hair opened the doors to greet you.

“Thank you for taking the time to teach me,” he said, “I was able to practice the steps on my own, but I just get lost with a partner.”

Oh, if that was the case you have a good idea of what his issue is.

“It’s no problem, Tsumugi-kun. Let’s review the individual steps first before we continue.”

…

Feet, hip-distance apart. Step the left foot forward, then the right follows. The left meets the right foot. The right steps back and the left follows. Place the right foot next to the left.

A full box step.

Tsumugi was right, he was able to get the basic steps of a waltz down to a tee. That must mean…

“Alright, now try those same steps while leading me as your partner.”

He let out a breath to prepare himself, before standing in front of you. The distance was far too much, and you ushered him to come closer, “shoulder distance, Tsumugi-kun.”

“Right, sorry,” he walked forward a bit more, awkwardly mirroring your actions, extending his arms forward.

“You’re the lead, and I’m the follow, so place your right hand below my left shoulder blade,” you waited for him to do as you said before continued with your instructions, “and our hands go like this.”

You wrapped your right hand around his left, and was it just the stage lights or were his cheeks dotted with pink? Well, now wasn’t the time to tease him.

Tsumugi’s difficulty stemmed either from being too tense around his partner or from being too afraid to take the lead. Whichever one it was, you were going to crush it as hard as you were crushing on Tsumugi.

“You know, I find it pretty funny,” you began, hoping to ease up his tension by lightening the mood, “that you’re supposed to be playing a tutor, yet I’m tutoring the tutor.”

His left foot forward, your right foot back.

He laughed, amusement visible in his features. “I actually work as a tutor, too, so it’s just as funny to me.”

His right foot forward, parallel to the left. Your left foot back, parallel to the right.

“Eh? No wonder it looked so natural! Ah, although you’d probably be good in other roles too? What other roles have you done?”

His left foot meets his right, and your right meets your left.

So far, so good.

“My first role for Mankai was an angel in love with a human,” Tsumugi said, becoming more immersed into the conversation, “though I’ve done a bunch of roles when I attended school.”

He steps back with his right foot, and you step your left foot forward.

“I’ve never actually acted, but I’ve always been interested in theatre. I’m always helping productions,” you replied, “an angel? It’s the perfect role for you.”

His left foot steps forward, and unfortunately steps on your right foot.

“Ow, a little too early, Tsumugi-kun,” you wince slightly at the added pressure, and Tsumugi hastily steps back looking extremely apologetic.

“Sorry! I lost track of what the next step was,” he explained, “can we go back to the start?”

You smiled, at least he looked like he was raring to try again. Without a word, you signaled him to begin at starting position once more, your hands linking together.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

“Were you caught off-guard by what I said?” You asked, his grip on your hand slacking slightly before fixing it, “sorry, I just said what was on my mind.”

“It’s fine! You just surprised me a bit.”

Forward, side, close, back, side, close, forward, side, close, back, side, close.

“It’s just the two of us, Tsumugi-kun, so don’t be afraid to make mistakes, okay?” you locked eyes with him, waiting for him to respond.

“Thank you.”

“See? We were able to do a waltz box step together! If you’re free Thursday, I’ll help you fix the underarm turns!” Your smile was bright, radiant and blinding, all directed at him. Suddenly his face felt warm all over.

He was quick to arrange the next session.

“You know, if you’re supposed to act drunk, it wouldn’t matter if you stepped on your partner’s toes here and then,” Tasuku said off-handedly.

Tsumugi didn’t reply immediately. Eden troupe’s director had actually told him after their latest practice that it didn’t matter if he made a mistake every now again as long as it wasn’t too exaggerated.

He hesitated a bit before responding, “that’s true, but it’d be nice to get a whole sequence right without stepping on someone’s feet.”

It wasn’t a lie, but he was still relieved Tasuku looked like he accepted that answer, “would be nice to have that skill stored just in case.”

Even so, you looked so delighted when he did well. If just for a little while longer, he’d like to see you direct a smile at him again.

You were really, really grateful to see Tsumugi again. It was always a pleasure meeting up with him, dancing with him, learning something new about him.

Despite all of this, your toes could only take so much pressure in one session.

“Somehow, this is kind of embarrassing,” Tsumugi said as he stepped on your feet for the umpteenth time tonight.

Unable to resist the urge to tease him, you replied, “huh, you’re really tripping all over your feet for me, angel~”

You felt a little bit guilty when you saw his cheeks kissed pink like a carnation because no matter how cute he was when flustered, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Your lips parted to apologize, but you found yourself befuddled by how he remained silent.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

He was quiet, merely staring at you until he moved to turn you around, letting go of the arm beneath your shoulder. The two of you were facing each other once again when he finally said anything.

One, two, three. One, two-

“You’re the one who’s the angel here.”

You stepped forward, accidentally stepping on his feet. The two of you were caught off-guard, you more so by his response than the fact that you made a mistake. As you stumbled forward, he circled his arms around you to serve as an attempt to steady you.

Tsumugi looked at you worriedly. He meant it as a compliment! You let him off easy every time he made mistakes while simultaneously helping him improve, plus giving him praise every time he did something right. Like a guardian angel of sorts? Or the angel over the shoulder?

His thoughts get interrupted when he hears you mutter something with a semblance of his name.

“Tsumugi-kun,” the said man watched in awe as you widen your eyes, a flush creeping across your cheeks like a vine of scarlet honeysuckle, or a freshly bloomed rose bush or a myriad of other flowers he could associate with you right now but one thing was certain.

This was different than the admiration he felt for you and what you do when you would dance with him, in front of the other actors. This was different than the appreciation he felt when you gave him words of encouragement. This was different from the pang in his chest when you teased him lightly.

No, not different.

It was an amalgamation of all of those things and more.

Tsumugi knows a crush when he sees it; when he feels it. This was a full-blown crush.

He knew from the rush of endearment he felt when you stepped back slightly from his grasp, your hands fanning your face wildly. He knew from the way you shifted your eyes around the room, avoided locking eyes with him and yet giving him millisecond glimpses to search for a reaction.

There certainly was a better way of saying this, of doing this. Maybe after he’s returned back to the dorm he could mull over his feelings and think of a better way to confess, maybe bring you to one of his favorite coffee shops, maybe even ask Tasuku and Izumi for advice…

but he wants to let at least a fraction of his feelings out, to relieve him if not for reassurance. He allows himself to be a little hopeful, a little confident that your feelings resemble his if he was to base it off of your reaction.

“Even after our lessons end, could we continue seeing each other?”

For the first time in what felt like hours, which in reality was likely three minutes, your gaze met his own. You’d think about it more later, but his pupils were dilated as he looked at you. Yours might have been, too.

“I’d like that, a lot.”

Tsumugi didn’t step on your feet for the rest of the night.

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#a3!#tsumugi tsukioka #tsukioka tsumugi #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! tsumugi #cafe: dessert menu #a3! actor training game #a3 actor training game #a3! game #act! addict! actors!#a3 tsumugi #tsumugi x reader #reader insert

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it-wasnt-that-bad · 4 years

Text

Email from my mother to my twin sister's therapist, January 2008. My sister and I were 14.

H = my father, T = my sister

Sat the kids down together tonight and told them I needed to know what went on the other night. At first they tried to gloss it over, but then after I let them bitch about [father's gf] and her daughter for awhile, they loosened up. I got a real earful.

The short form is that T and Sarah had a medium-level tiff over computer time, and when H had gone to his room, T locked herself in the bathroom so that she could call me without H stopping her. As I said earlier, she was sleep-deprived and angry. On tonight's recollection, she says she was determined to stand up for her rights, and she believes she has the right to call her mother when she wants.

After H shut the phone service off, T came out and went downstairs. She argued with H, saying she had the right to talk to me, and H did not have the right to cut off her access. Sarah joined in support of T, and H got angrier, accused them of ganging up on him. Said he paid for the cell phone, could cut it off when he wanted. Sarah said she would get a prepaid cell phone, to kill his argument. He responded that it was his house, and he decided what went on there. (Aside: Kids said he is always cutting off the phone or the cable or the internet, even threatened to cut off the electricity, when they do not do as he wishes. T believes that the divorce agreement has given her the right to have free communication with me, and is determined to hold onto that right. She says Dad always thinks he is above the law and ignores it when it doesn't suit him.)

Ended this portion with H yelling and doing the standing two inches away waving his arms thing, calling the kids names. Sarah said they were his "trophy children" and he responded something like they were no trophies, with all their psychotic problems. (Both kids remember the words.) He stormed out, doing his apparently familiar "I'm leaving, you're on your own" routine. But then he comes back in 10 minutes to yell more, then again and again. Finally, the kids go up to Sarah's room to get away. He bursts in and yells some more. Sarah tells him to get out of her room, calm down and go to bed. He won't go. She gets mad, eventually yelling obscenities at him, says she's leaving, goes down to the front door. He comes after her, pulls her arm away from the doorknob. She manages to get away from him, runs to the other door, and he blocks her. T is watching this.

Stories same from both children. Sarah storms to her room. I think that is the end.

Kids are telling me all this in that fairly insouciant way they have when they talk together about what he's done. I said to them, to get a better feel for the atmosphere: So you've told me all this fairly carelessly after the fact. Can you tell me how you felt at the time? The words they both chose were: "angry, frustrated, scared and trapped." They elaborated on "scared" and "trapped." Then T added "hurt." She said it hurts her that her dad can be like that. She repeated that she wants to love her dad, but dad hurts her and scares her when he's like this.

They talked about H bursting into their rooms yelling at them, going into emotional rants, refusing to go away, finally leaving, only to come back ten or fifteen minutes later. I asked whether this was usually at nighttime, and they both said, oh, yes, after Dad has gone to his room. T said he's never this bad in the daytime, doesn't do his scary thing (which they imitated) except sometimes if he's really, really mad. I asked how often this happens. T replied "every time I don't do exactly what he wants." I asked the kids whether they ever really talked to him about it the next day. They both said he is normal in the morning and doesn't appear to remember what went on the night before.

At some point in this, T says she thinks it is because H drinks at night. I asked if she was conjecturing. She responded that she had seen the bottle of booze in Dad's closet a couple of weeks ago. (H is also, according to the children's report, taking prescription sleeping pills now. Whether this is instead of or in addition to the liquor, I do not know.)

#things that happened in my childhood that were Somewhat Not Great #somehow I'd forgotten about this shit #i know it's not that bad compared to what a lot of kids go through #so I'm not saying this is like terrible awful abuse or anything #but definitely not a fun experience #long post #using my blog as a journal

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portals-to-a-new-world · 4 years

Text

Shattered Glass

Who?: John Kennex x Reader

What?: YN and John fight, forcing both of them to realize some truths neither were willing to admit.

Word Count: 4724

Warnings: Angst, Intrusive Thoughts, Self-Image Struggles, Portrayals of Depression and Anxiety, Language, Smut, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it, y’all), Semi-Public Sex, Fluff

A/n: Hey y’all! This started out as a therapy fic for me after I’d had a bad day at work and just sort of snowballed lol. I’d just like to reiterate that this has portrayals of negative self image and anxiety/depression so please don’t put yourself at risk if that’s going to trigger you. I’d like to give yet another shoutout to the absolutely brilliant @bakerstreethound, without whom this story couldn’t have happened. She kept me sane during the beginning and has been the bestest friend and partner anyone could ask for. Ace, I really don’t know what I’d do without you 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 Finally, I’m not tagging in this one, simply because I’m currently trying to work out a way to organize my tags so that people only get tagged in what they want to be :). Keep an eye out for a post soon with further details, peaches. Oh just one more thing, I’ve been seeing a lot of blogs having their works reposted on other sites without permission, and I’d like to establish here that I do not give anyone permission to repost my works. I’m on AO3 under the same username, but any other sites are not me.

Rough days were standard in your line of work. You'd think that after 3 years in the industry, the last 5 months of which being spent with your current employer, would have you used to the stress. Then again, you weren't sure anyone could get used to the bitch of a co-worker who was causing 80% of your issues. You were higher up in the company than her, but because she'd been with them longer, she seemed to think she could order you around. Going to your bosses achieved nothing, as she was apparently "invaluable" to the company, and didn't bother listening to them anyway. It wasn't a big deal at first, just one of those "ignore them, and they'll go away" situations, but as time progressed it got increasingly worse. Today you were forced to endure her screaming insults and ranting at you about a mistake your partner had made. Your day only seemed to get worse from there, and by the time you got off, you were about ready to blow a fuse. 4 bouts of road rage and a spilled coffee later, and you finally walked through the door to your apartment, slamming it shut behind you. John's head poked around the corner from the kitchen, noodles hanging from his lips. "Jesus. Is the door still standing?" He asked once he'd swallowed. You just huffed in response. He raised an eyebrow as you walked past without giving your usual greeting in the form of a kiss. "Hello to you, too, then." He mumbled. You waved your hand sarcastically over your shoulder.

"Hey," You said. John's concern was written all over his face as he followed you into the living room. He spoke as you plopped onto the couch, placing your head in your hands.

"I'd ask if you're okay, but clearly you're not so-"

"Sorry, Detective, but you must be losing your touch because I'm fine." You said, looking up to offer a strained smile, which was met with a skeptical eyebrow raise.

"Uh-huh, and Richard's being promoted to captain. Don't bullshit me, (Y/N/N). What's wrong?" He placed a hand on your shoulder as he finished. You shrugged it off and stood to your feet, ignoring the incredulous look on his face at your actions.

"I said I'm fine, John. Just let it go." You turned to walk away, but his hand shot out to grab ahold of your wrist. You tried to tug it free, which only served to draw him to his feet. He pinned your arm against his chest, pulling you in close. "Let me go." You said as you continued to struggle against him. Any other time you'd've found being pinned against such a handsome bastard incredibly sexy, in fact, that's probably why he did it in the first place. The notion was like throwing a match onto gasoline, igniting the rage that had been simmering under the surface into a full-on blaze.

"What the hell's gotten into you??" He demanded.

"I told you to fucking let it go, Kennex. In fact, you might as well go ahead and leave altogether, cause I'm not in the mood to fuck you tonight." He dropped your wrist as if scalded and took two steps back to search your face in angry disbelief before replying.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" You threw your hands in the air in exasperation.

"Oh, come on! I'm not stupid, John. There was never going to be anything serious between us. You're not capable of trusting, let alone loving, anyone after Anna, and even if you were, you'd never choose me." He opened his mouth to reply, but you cut him off. "No, you wouldn't. Put me in a line up with every woman you've ever been attracted to, and the differences are fucking painfully obvious." You took a deep breath before continuing. "I was not, and never will be, anything more to you than convenient, no matter how much I love you. Okay? So, you don't have to pretend to fucking care anymore, John."

"How dare you! I can't believe I'm standing here listening to this bullshit; matter of fact," He paused and gestured as if an idea just occurred to him. "I'm not going to!" He stormed over to his coat and yanked it off the counter before throwing it on. He stopped momentarily to look back at you, mouth open to speak before sighing roughly in frustration. "Fuck this." Without another word, he was going out your door, slamming it so hard behind him that the pictures on the wall fell and crashed on the floor. In a single moment, everything in you shattered like glass. You collapsed in a heap as sobs began to rip through your chest. It's for the best. He would have left eventually, anyway. Why would he want to stay with a useless, disgusting, pathetic thing like you? God, you can't even handle the basic stress of everyday problems, while he's out there still doing his job after everything he's been through. I mean, how weak can you be?? No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop the thoughts from invading your mind. Each one cut deeper than the last until you were numb. Eventually you stood to your feet, drained and feeling hopeless. Your body moved on autopilot, carrying you through your nightly routine and into bed. You slept in fits and starts, nightmares plaguing nearly every second. When your body finally gave in to the utter exhaustion, a tiny part of you had hoped that you would wake up to find it'd all been a dream. Most of you didn't want to wake up at all, though.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unfortunately, neither part of you got its wish. You did indeed wake up, and you woke up to an empty bed. Your heart broke as you realized just how badly you'd fucked up. You didn't have time to dwell on your failures, though, as your phone was ringing, and upon answering, you discovered you were over an hour late for work. You shot up out of bed and quickly threw some clothes on, rushing through your morning essentials. As you stepped out of your front door, you looked up and saw dark storm clouds rolling in. You flipped through the radio in your car and found out that the storms were supposed to last through the rest of the week. At least the weather matched how you felt inside. Unsurprisingly, your problematic co-worker was standing ready to lay into you the moment you stepped through the doors. It took every ounce of what little strength you had left not to break down right then and there. By some stroke of luck, she was called away by your bosses, and you quickly took off to your desk. Your day was almost typical, until around 2 pm, your phone buzzed with an incoming text. Your heart stopped as you looked at the name on the screen. John. Your hands were shaking as you unlocked the phone to read the message.

Come by my place when you get off. We need to have a serious talk.

All of your fears came crashing down on you at once, punching through your chest like a bullet. You stumbled your way into the bathroom and latched onto the sink edge to anchor yourself. So this really was it. He was breaking up with you. Your hand flew up to press against your chest as the ache there blossomed into raw agony. At least he had the decency to do it in person. He could have just ghosted you. You continued to rub your chest as you typed out a simple 'okay' in response. A quick glance at the time revealed that you still had three hours left in your shift. You took a few deep breaths and splashed some cool water on your face. The last thing you needed was for someone to ask "what's wrong" and you end up breaking down in front of God and everyone. After you managed to calm down enough to return to your desk, time seemed to slow down, until the remaining three hours felt like twelve. You'd also discovered that you'd left your rain jacket at John's the last time you'd spent the night. Still, most of your body was numb by then anyway, so it didn't really matter as you stepped out into what had to be a freezing downpour at the end of your shift. In all honesty you were grateful for the numbness. You almost certainly would have never been able to drive had it not been for the near void that threatened to consume you as you drove through the crowded city. When you pulled up into the driveway, some of the emptiness cleared away, leaving panic in your chest and your whole body shivering as you sprinted to the door. You hardly registered John opening the door and pulling you inside. Your focus was locked on to the way his face moved while he spoke, committed to memorizing every detail while you still had the chance. Your gaze had fallen to his perfectly plump lips when you realized he was saying your name.

"Y/n, can you hear me, sweetheart?" You shook your head to clear some of the fog from your mind. Might as well get it over with.

"Yeah-" You cleared your throat. "Yeah, I can hear you. When do you wanna come by and get your stuff? Or would you rather me just drop it off here for you?" Confusion flooded his features as you finished.

"What are you talking about? Why would I need my stuff back?" Damn, was he so done with you that he didn't even want his stuff back? You dropped your eyes, knowing that you wouldn't be able to hold his gaze without breaking down completely.

"You're breaking up with me, right?" You cursed silently as tears began to stream down your face. Gentle fingers pressed up beneath your chin to tilt your face back up.

"You haven't listened to a word I've said, have you?" You didn't respond, too caught up in the softness of his eyes, and he didn't bother waiting for one anyway. "I said I shouldn't have walked out on you last night. I had some excuse about being tired, but the truth is I was afraid because you were right. I didn't think I would ever be able to love anyone again after Anna." Your heart clenched and the tears began to fall even harder as breathing became difficult. Had you been watching his face, you would have seen the heartache ooze across his features as he watched you break down in front of him. As it were, your gaze had fallen back to the floor, and you jumped when his hand moved up to cradle your face softly. "I was so pissed at myself, and at you for being right, that it wasn't until this morning when I woke up without you in my arms, and it hurt that I realized just how wrong we both had been. You're wrong about me never choosing you. You're smart and kind, and so beautiful you take my breath away when you walk into a room." You hiccupped and fell apart as you processed what he was saying to you. He rushed to pull you into his arms as your knees threatened to give out, and just held you until you could breathe again. He pulled back far enough to look you in the eyes before he continued speaking. "And I was wrong. Because I do love you, and I'm sorry it took me so long to figure that out." You gasped deeply and threw your arms around his neck.

"I'm so sorry too. I never should have taken out my frustrations about work on you."

"It's alright. Do you wanna talk about it?" Part of you still felt stupid about the reason for your outburst, but you felt so safe in his embrace that you found yourself nodding in affirmation. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and let you go. The sudden lack of his warmth sent shivers up your spine.

"Jesus. Why's it so cold in here?" You asked, rubbing your arms. He reached out and took your hand with a grin.

"Part of your surprise." He said with a wink. "Come on. I'll show you." You followed him around the corner and into the main room. You came to a stop as your eyes fell on the mounds of blankets and pillows arranged on the floor. He turned to look back when you stopped, and he seemed disappointed when you just looked at him in confusion. "You mentioned a while back that you loved the sound of the rain on the roof here. I'd figured-" He cringed slightly as he stumbled over his words. "Well, I mean I'd hoped-" He began to rub the back of his neck nervously before he continued. "I'd hoped that we'd be able to work things out, so I went ahead and got everything set up. Since they're calling for the storms to last for so long and all." Deciding to put him out of his misery, you stepped forward and pulled him down into a kiss. All the tension left his body as your lips connected, and you couldn't help but grin as you broke apart.

"I promise to not tell Dorian that you're secretly a big ol teddy bear who remembers tiny details about his girlfriend." You joked. John rolled his eyes, but still had a small smile on his face as he pulled you back in for another kiss. Despite his closeness, another chill ran down your spine, reminding you of your original query. "Doesn't explain why it's so flippin cold in here, though." He looked at you and gestured as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"It's a pillow fort. And you've got the internal body temperature of a small space heater. I'd really prefer to not sweat my ass off." He said. You bit your lip to hide your grin as you nodded gravely before replying.

"That would be a tragedy." He also was fighting a smirk as he slightly tilted his head in agreement.

"Exactly. My ass is a national treasure," He said. You giggled and let your smile finally breakthrough as he gestured in a 'come hither' motion. You began to worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you stepped forward. He reached over and pulled the soaking wet towel from your shoulders, surprise in his eyes as if something had just occurred to him. You stepped forward in concern as his eyes seemed to zone out and darken.

"John? What's wrong?" He seemed to snap out of his trance, and he cleared his throat before gesturing to your body.

"Your shirt. It's soaked. You're gonna catch a cold." You followed his gaze to your chest to discover that his eyes had not darkened in anger or frustration, but in lust. He was right, your shirt was absolutely dripping wet. It was also white. Ah.

"Would you prefer me to take it off?" You joked. A smirk emerged on his lips, sending a shudder through you that had nothing to do with the cold. He nodded and closed the distance between you.

"Purely in the interest of your health, of course," He said lowly. You tilted your head in mock defeat and began undoing the buttons of your shirt slowly.

"Well, I'm sure you know best, Detective." You barely made it half-way down the line before his lips were crashing into yours and his hands taking over to speed through the remaining buttons. He paused before he could push the garment off of your shoulders.

"Is this- I mean I don't want to assume- Or make you think I'm only after-" You cut him off with another kiss and shrugged out of the sleeves. He still seemed hesitant, right up until you nipped at his bottom lip. He huffed out a breathless growl before returning the favor, his hands landing on your bare waist to pull you into him. He swiped his tongue across your lip in a silent request for entrance, which you happily granted. Your hands moved to grip at his shoulders while his own began an exploration of your body, sliding up your spine and across your stomach before dropping from your skin entirely. You whined at the loss of contact, but he quickly made up for it by reaching down and pulling his shirt over his head. He leaned back down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. "Just making things even," He murmured against you. His hands found your hips as he led you to the center of the room without breaking the kiss, but it was his turn to grunt in surprise when you gently pushed him down on the pillows. "What-" He stopped when your hands moved to play with the clasp of your bra.

"We're not even yet, Detective." You said coyly. You barely got the garment off before he was tugging you down on top of him and into another breathtaking kiss. A moan escaped your lips as he nibbled your ear, trailing kisses down your neck. You brought a finger up to his mouth, stopping his assault. "We're not done yet, detective." You were smirking and trailing your hands across every bit of his skin you could reach, but you were partly just trying to hide the way you were trembling at having him so close. Another part was just reassuring itself that he was really there, not believing that he was finally truly yours, that you had the broken-hearted detective beneath you. It all felt like a dream until he ground up against you and whispered in your ear.

"Please, (Y/n)," He didn't even finish his sentence before you were climbing off of him to quickly remove your pants and underwear. He followed your lead and, to your surprise, pulled you back down on top of him once he'd finished. You uttered a whimper as he brushed up against your soaked folds, but it turned into a full-fledged whine as he slowly guided you down onto his length. He cursed and his eyes fluttered closed once he was fully sheathed inside you. You both took a moment to breathe and adjust to the sensation, and he finally looked at you when his hands began to guide your hips. "I love you." You leaned down to claim his lips again, tears threatening to fall at the words you'd never thought you'd hear him say.

"I love you too." You said, pulling back to meet his gaze once again. Such a small declaration, yet it made every movement, every touch, feel different. It was slow and passionate, so contrary to the fast and rough pace that was the norm with John. You couldn't bring yourself to look away from his deep hazel eyes, full of love and adoration, as you moved in perfect sync together. He rose with every fall, hitting so deep inside you that you knew you'd be feeling him for weeks. Your hips began to stutter as the sensations threatened to overwhelm you, and without missing a beat John flipped the two of you. A yelp escaped your kiss swollen lips as his nimble fingers slipped between the two of you to rub deliciously at your clit, and you could feel yourself rapidly approaching your orgasm. "John- please- don't stop!" He seemed more than happy to oblige, maneuvering to thrust impossibly deeper as his lips found your ear once again.

"You gonna cum for me, beautiful? I-" Whatever sweet nothing he had planned to say was choked off into a moan as your orgasm hit you. Your walls clamping down around him dragging him over the edge with you as he worked you through until you were whining with oversensitivity. He finally slid out of you and quickly retrieved a towel to clean you up. When he'd finished, he laid back down beside you and wrapped an arm around you, resting your head on his chest. You hummed in contentment as he began to stroke your hair, nearly drifting off before an idea occurred to you.

"John?" You mumbled against his chest.

"Yeah?"

"Do you still have any of that hot chocolate mix I gave you?" A small laugh rumbled in his chest as he responded.

"Yeah. You want some?" You lifted your head up to smile sweetly and nod your head.

"Yes, please!" John shook his head with a smile and placed a quick kiss to your temple before extracting himself from your embrace. You booed when he slid his boxers back on, earning another grin, this time accompanied by a wink before he headed off into the kitchen. Amongst the quiet, you finally registered the sounds of the rain still hammering against the building, the constant drumming a soothing backdrop to the cozy situation you found yourself in. You stood and slid back into your panties before moving to stand in front of the window. You also grabbed one of the blankets to protect against the chill that pervaded the air around the glass. Looking out, you could barely make out the disturbances the rain made to the surface of the water through the darkness, and yet you still found yourself mesmerized by the beauty of the view. You were drawn out of your reverie when John's voice sounded out behind you. "So, tell me about work. Is that woman causing problems again? What's her name, Kar-" He said as he entered the room. When his voice cut off you looked over your shoulder to find him staring at you with wonder in his eyes. You quickly looked out the window to see what he was staring at but couldn't spot anything particularly special.

"What are you looking at?" You asked, turning back right as he walked over to you. He didn't respond; instead, his hands found their way inside your blanket to grab your hips and push you back against the window. Mild panic set in before he finally spoke up. "John?"

"You're so beautiful." He said, dropping his head to kiss along your neck. You huffed in disbelief and reached up to push against his shoulders.

"You're crazy," Your pressing did little to dissuade him from his task, and you couldn't help but smile as he continued to mutter praises into your skin. "John," You chuckled as he continued to nuzzle into your neck. "Stop it, you're fogging up the glass," Your protests were growing half-hearted though, as his hands began to wander, and his lips trailed softly over your skin.

"And?" He questioned, pulling you back enough that your blanket fell to the floor before moving back forward so you were pressed against the icy cold glass. You yelped at the shock the temperature difference gave your system, trying to shove him back and pull him closer for warmth at the same time, both to no avail.

"I was enjoying the view," You said, breathlessly in a last-ditch attempt to persuade him. He pulled back to look you in the eyes before he responded.

"I've got a much better one right in front of me." His lips found yours and you melted against him. The kiss bordered on desperate, almost as if he was afraid you'd disappear. His hands left a trail of goosebumps behind as the heat of his skin emphasized the chill in the air, sliding up your arms and down your back before moving to play with the skin just beneath your waistband. A whine left you as he dipped his fingers inside to tease at your lips, sliding around and deftly avoiding everywhere you wanted him. Just as you were about to pull back and tell him to stop teasing, he thrust two fingers deep inside you, drawing a surprised gasp from you. "So wet for me," He mumbled against your lips as he began to thrust his fingers inside you. Each pass brushed up against your g spot until you were practically seeing stars and begging him for more. Suddenly, his fingers were gone, and you opened your eyes to find him licking your juices off of them. You let out a desperate whine.

"John, please, please fuck me." You said, reaching out to palm him through his boxers. His hand grabbed your wrist before you could touch him, though, and he spun you around.

"As the lady wishes." He leaned in and said against your ear. He reached down and pulled himself free from his boxers. John didn't bother to remove your own underwear, instead just sliding them to the side before slowly working his length inside you. You groaned in relief as he began to thrust slowly, pulling out and pushing back in to make sure you were ready. His cock dragged perfectly against every sensitive spot you had, sending pleasure shooting through your body and making your toes curl. Seeming satisfied with your preparedness he began to pick up his pace, hitting deeper inside you with every push. You yelped as his fingers found your nipples, tweaking and pulling on the sensitive buds as you moaned out his name. A hand left your skin and reached up to swipe across the glass, revealing your reflection. "Look. Do you see how fucking gorgeous you are? So beautiful, and mine." He nipped at the skin beneath your ear as his hand moved down your front to rub harsh circles on your clit. You threw your head back against his shoulder, eyes falling shut at the added sensation, but a sharp bite made them shoot open again. "Eyes open, baby girl. I want you to watch as I make you fall apart around me." Your eyes found his in the reflection, and you moaned at the way his pupils were blown wide with lust.

"Please, John, I need more-" You gasped deeply as his thrusts began to pick up speed, knocking you up onto your toes and forcing you to throw your hands up against the glass for support. Your reflection revealed how utterly wrecked you were, and the sight sent you flying over the edge with a scream of John's name. He buried his face in your neck as he continued to thrust, chasing his own release and prolonging yours as you gasped and sputtered, unable to form words thanks to the electric waves of pleasure flowing through you. Just when you thought you couldn't handle anymore, John's thrusts faltered, and he came with a deep groan. He rested his forehead on your shoulder as he waited for his breathing to return to normal, mumbling 'I love you's and pressing kisses into your heated skin. Out of nowhere tears began to flow down your cheeks, a quiet sob escaping you. John immediately noticed, and carefully pulled out of you before turning you around to run his hands over you in concern.

"(Y/n), what's wrong? I didn't hurt you, did I? I'm so sorry, sweetheart-" The panic in his voice made the tears come harder, and you struggled to voice what was happening.

"No, you didn't hurt me-" You hiccupped. "I just- don't deserve you." Confusion crossed his face as he processed what you were telling him.

"What? You-" He seemed to come to a decision, and he went and grabbed his phone, quickly pulling up the dial pad. "Here. Call your work and tell them you're taking the rest of the week off. If they ask why then tell them police business."

"What? John, I can't just-"

"You've got tons of time off saved up, right?" He cut you off, still holding the phone out.

"Well yes, but-"

"Then, by law, they can't stop you from taking it." You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to control your breathing and stop the tears.

"Why are you doing this?" You asked, finally looking up at him.

"Because I want to spend the next 5 days showing you just how amazing you are." He said, so confident, so resolute, that you found yourself reaching out to grab the phone.

#john kennex x reader #kennex x reader #Angst #Intrusive Thoughts #Self-Image Struggles #Portrayals of Depression and Anxiety #Language #Unprotected Sex #Semi-Public Sex #Fluff

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misharuu · 4 years

Text

Sake ; One Shot

Fandom: Naruto Shippuden (no fandom knowledge is needed for this fic)

Pairing/Characters: Sasuke x Naruto, Shikamaru x Naruto (brief), Sakura

Warnings/Tags: NSFW ; yaoi, whump, hurt/comfort, emeto, sickfic, alcohol abuse, angst, first time, naruto is grieving, and drinking, sasuke is in denial about his feelings

Summary: Sasuke returned to the Village after absorbing Orochimaru. After a few weeks of interrogation and house arrest he’s free to roam. Sakura forgives him quickly but Naruto is pissed and grieving Jiraiya’s death, leaving him broken hearted and impulsive. One night at the bar Sasuke is left taking care of a blackout drunk Naruto, and one thing leads to another.

Word Count: 5,666

A/N: Okay so this has been sitting as a draft for way too long! I hope it’s alright! Feedback is loved!

AO3. FF.

Sasuke’s arms were folded over his chest, his long fingers wrapped around his upper arms, knuckles white. He narrowed his eyes as he watched Naruto drunkenly lean over a table, chatting with Shikamaru, who in his opinion was being much too courteous, enjoying the conversation much more than he should have been. Everyone knew Naruto was an obnoxious drunk; he drank too much too quickly, he never tried to pace himself, he was a flirt, and he couldn’t handle his alcohol. Being around him in this state was a complete hassle. It was way too much effort to wrangle him in at the end of the night and force him to go home. ‘But I don’t waaaannnaaa,’ he’d whine, eyes all glassy and unfocused, ‘can’t we go to another bar? The one up the block is open for another hour!’ Sasuke couldn’t help but roll his eyes, even the thought of Naruto’s insufferable whining enough to set him off. And what was Shikamaru playing at? Why was he acting like Naruto’s drunken ramblings were so entertaining? A bubbly laugh pulled Sasuke out of his thoughts. He glared as he watched Naruto and Shikamaru talk, standing way too close to each other due to their lowered inhibitions... and was that Naruto’s hand lingering on Shikamaru’s shoulder? ‘Pathetic,’ Sasuke hissed in his head, turning around on his stool to face the bar.

Sakura was in the stool next to him, completely oblivious to the fact that he wasn’t listening to her, ranting on and on about some book; or maybe about training? He couldn’t remember. “Yeah, that’s great,” Sasuke mumbled, offering some sort of reply every now and then to keep up his facade. He hated bars. Hated alcohol. Hated not being one hundred percent in control of himself. He sipped on a light beer, the tangy sourness bubbling over his tongue. And there was that damn laugh again. How could Naruto feel so comfortable letting his guard down like that? How could he be so carefree and uninhibited? He was basically sitting in Shikamaru’s lap at this point; they were in separate chairs but they were so close their knees were rubbing together. The display sickened him, awaking some sort of emotion deep inside the pit of his stomach. Anger? No, that wasn’t it. Disgust? Partially, but not quite. Jealousy...? That’s ridiculous, he didn’t have anything to be jealous of, right?

Sasuke glared as Naruto picked up a bottle, pouring out two shots less than carefully, clear liquid spilling onto the sticky table. Some sort of cheer was called out before they downed their shots, slamming their glasses on the table. Naruto didn’t even flinch, immediately reaching out for the bottle and taking a long swig. Shikamaru grabbed the bottle from Naruto, clearly unimpressed by his desires to get blackout drunk, and placed the bottle back on the table. Naruto was displeased, his eyebrows furrowed before he snapped at Shikamaru. Shikamaru laughed it off and took Naruto by the hand, pulling him up out of his seat. The sudden movement made Naruto stagger on unsteady feet, his hair was a mess and his face was flushed pink; totally wasted. A smirk grew across his lips, slightly pointed canines glinting, his whiskered cheeks dimpled. Sasuke growled deep in his throat as he watched Shikamaru drag the drunk boy into the bathroom. His fist clenched in his lap and he took another sip of his beer, glowering.

”Sasuke?” he heard a voice slur lightly next to him, dragging him out of his thoughts again, “I was thinking you could come back to my house tonight...” Sasuke glanced at Sakura, placing his cup on a coaster.

”I’ll be right back,” Sasuke barked as he got up from his stool swiftly, ignoring Sakura’s advance. She clearly deflated as he sauntered away, carefully gliding through the large, rowdy crowd. He wasn’t sure why but he felt like he had to see what was going on. Once he got to the restroom he didn’t bother knocking, pushing right through the door. Naruto was sat on one of the sinks with Shikamaru standing between his legs, orange clad knees pressing against his hips. Their mouths were locked together and Naruto’s hand gripped the back of Shikamaru’s neck as he grinded against his hips. Sasuke felt like all the air was sucked out of his lungs and his heart dropped into his stomach. He felt completely furious. He wanted to pull them apart. Just as he was about to speak he realized that he was being ridiculous. Why did he care? It was none of his business. But seeing Naruto’s arms draped over Shikamaru’s shoulders, his legs wrapped against his hips...

“Can’t you see we’re busy here?” Shikamaru snapped, glaring at Sasuke as he held Naruto up. Naruto was clearly on the verge of a blackout, his head lolled onto Shikamaru’s shoulder as soon as the jonin moved, unable to hold himself steady, his eyes sliding closed.

Sasuke rolled his eyes, “this is still a bathroom, correct?” He walked over to the urinals and unzipped his pants, trying to concentrate on pissing and not the sounds Naruto made as he clung onto Shikamaru’s vest. He heard the sound of a zipper before Naruto gasped, and that was his breaking point. Sasuke pulled up his pants and flushed, spinning on his heels. “Get a fucking room,” he spat after he washed his hands, quickly leaving the restroom and letting the door slam behind him. He swiftly made his way back to his stool, obsessively watching the bathroom door, seeing how long it would take for the door to open. It was only a few moments later that the pair left, Naruto barely on his feet and Shikamaru guiding him to a chair, murmuring something into his ear before standing back up, gazing around the room as if he was looking for someone. Shikamaru caught Sasuke’s line of sight and immediately started to walk over. ‘Great,’ Sasuke sarcastically thought to himself, trying not to glare.

”Hey, uh, Sasuke... I gotta go. Just got word that I’m needed for an urgent mission. Could you possibly... uh, could you get Naruto home safely?” Shikamaru asked, a hand sliding through his hair with sheepish smile.

”You really think I’d be willing to do that?” Sasuke snorted, sipping his beer.

”You know damn well I don’t trust you, but Naruto does and he isn’t in great shape,” Shikamaru glared, a hand on his hip, “don’t do it for me, do it for him.”

Sasuke was about to reject him but Sakura was looking at him furiously, her hands clutched into fists, clearly about to threaten him if he said no. Sasuke heaved out a sigh, glancing beyond Shikamaru’s shoulder to the corner that Naruto was tucked into. The blond’s head was leaning against the wall, he looked like he was slipping in and out of unconsciousness, an absolute miracle that he was still upright. “Sakura, could you...?” Sasuke motioned to Naruto. Sakura just shook her head, disappointment clear on her face. Sasuke groaned, pulling himself to his feet. “Fine, but you owe me one,” he hissed as Shikamaru smiled, throwing Sasuke a salute before heading out of the bar.

Sasuke cautiously walked over to Naruto, pausing a few feet away as he took in the sorry state that he’d gotten himself into. His eyes were open but they were unfocused, his cheeks were flushed and his jacket was partially unzipped and wrinkled. He took a few steps closer, “Naruto?” Naruto slowly turned his head in Sasuke’s direction, his eyes narrowed.

”What’dya wan’,“ Naruto slurred, crossing his arms.

”I’m supposed to be escorting you home,” Sasuke rolled his eyes, not liking the situation any more than his ‘rival.’

”’M not goin’ anywhere with you,” Naruto huffed, “Shikamaru -“

Sasuke quickly cut him off. “Shikamaru apparently got called on a mission. Either that or he’s ditching you,” Sasuke shrugged cooly.

”Wouldn’ surprise me,” Naruto mumbled softly, “wouldn’ be the firs’ time they leave once they get what they want,” his gaze fell to the floor. For some reason that tugged on Sasuke’s heart, softening him a bit.

”Just let me take you home. You’re drunk and I doubt you want to wind up in a gutter somewhere.”

”Why d’you care?” Naruto spat, “not like it matters to you.” Sasuke sighed, gripping Naruto’s shoulder and pulling him out of his chair. Naruto was too drunk to fight him off, a string of weak arguments tumbling out of his mouth as he was dragged out of the bar. After one block Sasuke started to get fed up; Naruto was completely unsteady on his feet and after tripping once Sasuke had enough. He scooped Naruto off the ground and slipped him onto his back piggyback style. “What the fuck -,” Naruto yelled as he was swung off the ground, sitting in a stunned silence once he came to rest on Sasuke’s back. He was out of energy and couldn’t argue anymore, letting his arms slide around Sasuke’s neck, his head resting on his shoulder. Sasuke found himself smiling as he felt Naruto’s relaxed breaths puffing against his neck, warm and tickling. He wouldn’t admit it but he was happy Shikamaru had left. He didn’t want Naruto to make any decisions like that while he was so drunk. He didn’t know if the two had a relationship like that, but he was pretty certain they didn’t considering the things he’d seen Shikamaru and Temari getting up to. Just a drunken one night stand. Disgusting. Naruto was worth so much more than that.

”S’ske?” Naruto slurred, barely audible over the sounds of his footsteps against the road. Sasuke glanced over his shoulder, frowning at the way Naruto’s skin looked so pale in the moonlight.

”Hm?” Sasuke hummed, continuing his trek.

“M’ gonna puke,” Naruto choked out, a hand flying to his mouth.

”Shit,” Sasuke hissed as he ducked into an ally, quickly sliding Naruto off his back and carefully letting him down. Naruto staggered a few feet before letting a hand rest against a brick wall, bending at the waist as his free hand braced against his knee. Sasuke didn’t know what to do so he just stood in place, keeping a calm, unconcerned look plastered on his face. There was a few moments of silence and Sasuke just stood there, watching Naruto’s shaking frame as he clung to the wall for dear life. “Err... Naruto?” Sasuke asked, taking a few steps forward. Just then Naruto started coughing, quickly devolving into gags, which lead to a heave as a stream of alcohol splattered onto the ground. Sasuke winced but he couldn’t will himself to move, torn between trying to help and mocking him for getting himself to this point. He settled on the latter, a weak coping mechanism he resorted to when he felt uncomfortable. “Pathetic. You hold your alcohol worse than girl,” he sneered, crossing his arms, acting totally unfazed. Naruto didn’t answer, his legs shook as he struggled to stay upright, coughing harshly as he dry heaved over the ground. Sasuke sighed, giving up, as he walked over to Naruto, gently placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder, trying to help him to his knees so he wouldn’t fall over but Naruto resisted.

”Do you want to fall on your face?” Sasuke growled, forcing Naruto onto his hands and knees. He knelt on the ground next to him to try to offer some amount of sympathy, a hand reaching out to push his hair off his face but he froze once he saw the tears on Naruto’s cheeks. Naruto coughed and gagged as he brought up another wave of vomit, letting out a choked off sob. Sasuke frowned, pushing the hair off Naruto’s face. “I know it sucks, I’m sorry,” Sasuke soothed, his hand lingering on Naruto’s back, “just get it out.” Naruto was too weak to hold back, freely sobbing between gasping breaths and gags, falling back onto his ass once he was done. His shaky hands covered his face, cheeks red with embarrassment. Of all people he didn’t want to seem weak in front of Sasuke was at the top of the list. Ever since Jiraiya died the only comfort he could find was in alcohol, picking up people at the bar so he wouldn’t have to be alone, at least for a little while. It had been a few weeks and the hole in his heart just seemed to grow, he constantly felt cold and empty, searching for anything to fill the void. The alcohol dulled the ache while the sweet words of his one night stands acted as a bandaid; making him feel better until it was suddenly ripped off the next morning when he woke up alone, leaving a stinging pain in their wake.

Sasuke just sat silently for a moment; Naruto sounded so sad, so broken that it confused him and he didn’t know what to do. He pulled Naruto’s hands off of his face and wiped away his tears. “Come on, you’re gonna catch a cold sitting on the ground all night,” Sasuke murmured, the way that Naruto childishly rubbed his eyes made his heart flip flop in his chest. He scooped Naruto back up onto his back and changed directions, heading back to his house instead, deciding Naruto shouldn’t be left alone. Naruto either didn’t notice or didn’t care about their change of direction; all Sasuke heard was sniffling and hiccoughing the whole trip.

Sasuke pushed his front door open and walked straight to his bedroom, placing Naruto on his bed while he flipped on the light, quickly shuffling through his closet as Naruto curled up on himself. Sasuke knew there was no point trying to talk to him about his sudden breakdown right now, he was probably too drunk to comprehend anything that was going on. Sasuke grabbed clothes for both of them, spinning around just in time to see Naruto’s face go green. He shot up on the bed, leaning over the side, a hand feebly trying to cover his mouth as he gagged, a dribble of bile dripping between his fingers and onto the floor. “Damn it,” Sasuke grabbed the trash can in the corner of the room and hastily shoved it into Naruto’s hands before he vomited again, wincing at the sound of liquid hitting the bottom of the metal can.

Sasuke quickly shuffled to the bathroom and grabbed a glass and a washcloth, wetting it with warm water before filling the glass with water, hurrying back to his room, helplessly watching as Naruto got sick. “God, how do you even have anything left?” Sasuke sat beside Naruto on the bed, rubbing his back, surprisingly not even mad that Naruto had puked on his floor. At this point he was just concerned and confused, completely out of his element. Emotions weren’t really his forte; neither was taking care of drunk people. All he could do was wait and whisper encouraging words; you’re okay, I’ve gotcha, I’m not going anywhere. Finally Naruto seemed to calm down, trying to catch his breath while lowering the garbage can onto the floor unsteadily.

”S-sorry...” Naruto whispered weakly, his big sad blue eyes making brief contact with Sasuke’s.

”Don’t worry about it right now,” Sasuke mumbled, grabbing Naruto’s hands so he could clean him up with the washcloth, hesitantly reaching up and wiping off Naruto’s face, erasing all evidence of his tears. Naruto just stared in disbelief, unsure or unable to speak, his eyes filling with tears at Sasuke’s tenderness. It made Sasuke’s head spin. He’d never seen Naruto cry, not unless someone was dead. ‘Oh, shit. Jiraiya,’ Sasuke wanted to smack himself; how had he not thought of that sooner. Sasuke sighed as he got up and grabbed a shirt and sweats, handing them to Naruto.

”Think you could manage?” he asked, getting a nod in return. They got changed in silence, their backs facing each other. Sasuke grabbed Naruto’s discarded clothes before helping him lay down, pulling the blanket up to his chin. He picked up the glass of water and handed it to Naruto, frowning at how shaky the boy’s hands were. “Drink this, it’ll help,” Sasuke muttered before he grabbed the can and the clothes and flicked off the light on his way out, bringing Naruto’s clothes to the laundry machine before starting to clean everything up. He headed back to his room with a mop and the garbage can, leaving the can next to the bed before swiftly cleaning the floor, trying to remain as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake Naruto up. Once the floor was clean he padded out of the room and rinsed the mop before heading back down the hallway to the living room, planning to sleep on the couch. As he walked past his room he couldn’t help but linger by the doorway, curiosity getting the better of him. He stood there for a moment, holding his breath, before he peered into the doorway. He saw Naruto’s shivering frame curled up beneath the blanket, his lips curling down into a frown.

“Sasuke?” Naruto’s voice suddenly broke the silence and made him jump.

”Y-yeah?” Sasuke asked, partially pushing the door open.

”Could you... Could you stay here tonight?” Sasuke’s blood went cold and he was confused with himself when he felt almost... relieved?

”Oh... Sure,” Sasuke mumbled, stepping fully into the room. He couldn’t help but notice that his hands were trembling as he pulled the blanket back, laying on the bed as far from Naruto as humanly possible, his heart racing in his chest.

”Thanks, Sasuke,” Naruto whispered sleepily, his breath coming deep and steady, clearly falling fast asleep. Sasuke just laid there, staring at the wall, thoughts swirling through his head. Their relationship had always been complicated and confusing. An odd rivalry spurred by a confusion of feelings. There had always been an unspoken tension, more than friends, rivals only in title and action, not in emotion. Naruto never gave up on him when he left the village, constantly searching for him, going head to head with Orochimaru on multiple occasions just to try to ‘rescue’ him. But at the time he didn’t want to be saved. Once he killed Orochimaru he let himself be found. He had to pretend to be angry, had to pretend he didn’t want to come back, but deep down he was tired of running. The way Naruto cried and begged him to return finally made something click, and he returned to the village. The trip back was uncomfortable to say the least. Kakashi tried to act nonchalant. Sakura and Naruto gave him the cold shoulder. It took weeks before Tsunade and the black ops would let him return home on the condition that he spill all of his secrets. News of Orochimaru’s death seemed to calm them slightly, but he was always being tailed. Not trusted. He didn’t expect to be. This was the first night since his return that he’d spoken more than two words to Naruto. Sakura was much easier to appease.

Jiraiya had died right before Naruto set out to find him, trying to cling to some sort of hope that things could return to ‘normal,’ whatever that meant now. Sasuke hadn’t heard of Jiraiya’s death until a few weeks after he returned; he didn’t really know him, he’d heard of him but that was about it. All he knew was that he was Naruto’s sensei. Apparently they had a stronger bond than he had imagined. Sasuke sighed as he rolled onto his back, an arm suddenly being draped across his waist. Sasuke glanced to his side, afraid to move, eyes wide as he watched Naruto cuddle up to him, blond hair tickling his cheek as he nuzzled his head into Sasuke’s chest. Sasuke held his breath, frozen, warm breath puffing against his skin. He knew there was nothing he could do, so he gave in, allowing himself to drift off to sleep, curling his arm protectively around Naruto’s shoulder.

——————————

Sasuke awoke to the feeling of being watched. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes before glancing down, instantly getting caught up in deep sea blue eyes. His arm was sore from being stuck beneath Naruto’s shoulder all night, where it still laid. “Naruto?” Sasuke asked groggily, pulling his arm back and pushing himself up, yawning as he stretched. Naruto didn’t move, confusion flashing across his face, weary and hungover. Sasuke sighed, unsure whether Naruto even knew where he was or how he got there. “Do you remember last night?” Sasuke asked.

Naruto rose up and sat on his feet, blankets pooled around his waist, Sasuke’s shirt hanging loosely around his neck. “Oh, uh... Yeah... Sorry about,” Naruto motioned to the floor, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

”Mmm, always having to clean up after your sorry ass,” Sasuke snorted, getting up to his feet. “Want anything to eat?”

Naruto’s nose wrinkled up in disgust. “Not unless you want me to puke on your bed this time,” he joked, still standoffish and uncomfortable as he sat on Sasuke’s bed, struggling to convince himself this wasn’t a dream.

”Fair enough,” Sasuke chuckled before padding out of the room.

Naruto sighed and fell back onto the pillows, his arms folding beneath his head. He never could have imagined laying in Sasuke’s bed. His scent enveloped him, masculine and strong, safe. Naruto glanced down and realized he was wearing Sasuke’s clothes, adrenaline coursing through his veins. It felt like a dream come true, everything he’d ever wanted. He was expecting to wake up and get yelled at, to swiftly get kicked out and told to get his shit together. The possibility of being offered breakfast in bed never even crossed his mind, giving him whiplash. But Naruto couldn’t complain. He couldn’t take this for granted. He knew he’d have to enjoy it while it lasted, before Sasuke came to his senses and realized what he was doing and reject him like everyone else. Naruto felt his lower lip tremble at the thought; he didn’t know how much longer he could take the loneliness. It was taking its toll, insomnia plaguing his nights, alcohol the only thing that could sing him to sleep.

”Naruto?” Sasuke’s voice made him jump. He spun around and stared up at the older man, quickly wiping his eyes as he realized they’d filled with tears. “Are you okay?” Sasuke asked before kneeling on his bed, holding out a plate of toast and juice for Naruto.

”Oh, uh, yeah... Just don’t feel so good,” Naruto mumbled, avoiding eye contact as he reached out for the juice and toast with shaky hands.

”Well if you’re gonna puke at least try to get to the garbage can this time,” Sasuke joked before taking a bite of his toast. Naruto felt dumbstruck, sipping his juice while staring at the bedspread.

”Why are you being so nice to me?” Naruto whispered, cheeks burning red.

”Seemed like you could use a miracle.”

Naruto didn’t respond; he didn’t know how to respond. He was right. Naruto felt lost. Seeking comfort with random guys at bars. Sasuke had seen that for himself the night before. Even thinking about Jiraiya made him breakdown into tears. Sasuke was never the type to kick someone when they were down, always avoiding the fatal blow.

The silence was deafening, making Naruto feel even more on edge. “Do you always eat in bed? Seems like a great way to get ants,” Naruto joked before biting into his toast, trying to break the silence.

”No; I figured this was a special occasion,” Sasuke commented cooly, finishing his breakfast quickly, taking Naruto’s plate and setting them on the bedside table. Another awkward silence.

”So, uh... I guess I’ll head out now,” Naruto started to get to his feet, “thanks again for everything.

”Oh, so soon?” Sasuke legitimately seemed disappointed, crestfallen. Naruto hesitated, still partially on the bed, staring directly into Sasuke’s eyes. It was intense; he felt so vulnerable yet so intrusive. He couldn’t ignore the look in his dark eyes - it was probably the same look he was giving Sasuke.

”Just say it,” Naruto snapped, “please.” Sasuke couldn’t find the words to say so instead he closed the space between them, grabbing Naruto’s face with both hands, pulling their lips together. Naruto quickly sat back down, a hand snaking it’s way around Sasuke’s neck, heart pounding in his chest. It was even better than he’d imagined, Sasuke was dominating but also so soft, so tender, allowing his fingertips to graze Naruto’s cheek. The sensation sent a shiver down his spine; he parted his lips and had to choke back a moan as Sasuke’s tongue slipped into his mouth, careful and exploratory at first but he quickly gained confidence, their tongues twirling together. Suddenly Sasuke pulled away and Naruto couldn’t help but whine.

”What about Shikamaru,” Sasuke’s eyes were dark, his pupils blown, already panting. Naruto frowned deeply at the mention of his name.

”That wasn’t anything... Anyone I’ve ever been with was a weak attempt at forgetting about you,” he stated breathily, looking away with embarrassment at the confession. Naruto expected Sasuke to be disgusted with him so he was taken off guard when he was suddenly pounced on. Sasuke pinned Naruto to the bed, their lips joining sloppily as Sasuke slid his thighs between Naruto’s legs. The feeling set Naruto off and he couldn’t hold back anymore; he moaned as he felt Sasuke’s erection pressing into his hip, rutting up against him as he gently nipped Sasuke’s bottom lip. Sasuke growled as he slid his tongue into Naruto’s mouth, grinding his hips down forcefully, fingers wrapped tightly around Naruto’s wrists, holding them to the mattress. Naruto felt defenseless; he couldn’t move an inch and he loved it. He’d wanted this for so long, since before Sasuke left. Years and years of desire finally coming to be a reality. Sasuke would never let him know but he’d felt the same, he was just too overwhelmed with vengeance to think clearly. Killing Orochimaru was a release; he was finally able to admit what he really wanted. What he really needed.

Sasuke sat up and flung his shirt off, partially getting to his feet so he could slide off his sweats. He dove back down on the mattress, his fingers curling around the elastic of Naruto’s pants before forcefully pulling them off. Naruto gasped at the sudden movements but complied, pulling his shirt off his shoulders. The second Naruto had his shirt off Sasuke pinned him back down, gliding between his legs, their cocks lining up perfectly. He paused for a second before starting to move, rutting into Naruto’s hips, their precome mixing together and offering lubrication. Naruto couldn’t take his limited movement anymore and gripped Sasuke’s shoulders, turning them both on their sides. He propped his knee up on Sasuke’s hip before continuing to rub against Sasuke’s length. Sasuke reached up and opened his bedside drawer, retrieving a bottle of lube. He flicked the cap open squeezed some in his hand before sliding his hand down between Naruto’s cheeks, a finger teasingly rubbing against his rim. “Ah!” Naruto gasped, his hips stuttering as he pushed back against Sasuke’s fingers, desperate for more. Sasuke smirked as he continued massaging Naruto’s opening for a moment, loving the way it made him squirm, before dipping in a fingertip. Naruto moaned against Sasuke’s lips, his hand grabbing a hold of Sasuke’s waist. Sasuke slid his finger in easily, barely any resistance, gliding in and out as he created a quick rhythm. Naruto could do nothing but pant, his cock hard and throbbing, pressed up against Sasuke’s hip.

Naruto reached down and took hold of Sasuke’s cock, pumping his length before sliding over the head, twisting his hand around it before sliding a finger over the slit. Sasuke thrust himself harder into Naruto’s grip, sliding a second finger into Naruto’s entrance, a coy smile spreading across his lips as he tantalizingly rubbed Naruto’s prostate, eliciting a yell of pleasure from the younger man. Sasuke continued to rub up against his prostate unyieldingly, sending wave after wave of pleasure across Naruto’s body, an almost overwhelming sensation. “Fuck, Sasuke,” Naruto moaned, pushing himself up off the mattress and forcing Sasuke’s hands off of him. Sasuke looked up at him with confusion in his eyes but that confusion was quickly replaced with a groan as Naruto pushed him onto his back, licking and kissing a trail from his neck down to his hips. Naruto’s lithe body slid between Sasuke’s thighs, coming to rest on his knees above Sasuke’s cock. He teasingly kissed the base, kissing and nibbling his way up to the head, a hand wrapping around the base. He flicked his tongue over his slit, smiling as Sasuke’s hands tangled into Naruto’s hair with a barely audible moan. Naruto took Sasuke into his mouth, tongue twirling against the head as he bobbed up and down, slowly taking in more and more of Sasuke’s length. One hand slid up and down Sasuke’s thigh while the other cupped his balls, gently squeezing and rubbing, working Sasuke into a frenzy. “God, how are you so good at this,” Sasuke moaned, softly pulling Naruto’s hair as he fought off the urge to rut up into Naruto’s mouth, not wanting to overwhelm him. Sasuke glanced down and saw Naruto smirk - God, how do you smirk with a dick in your mouth?! - he moaned as he pressed his head back against the mattress, slowly pressing his hips further into Naruto’s mouth.

Naruto took in Sasuke’s full length, swallowing around his cock, pausing for a moment to adjust before starting to bob his head up and down again. Sasuke groaned as his hips stuttered, fucking Naruto’s mouth as the younger man happily complied. Suddenly Sasuke felt Naruto stop moving, he glanced up to check on him and was stunned at the sight. Naruto was on his knees, his ass in the air as he fingered himself; his cheeks were flushed pink and he was panting, one hand still wrapped around Sasuke’s cock, his head resting on Sasuke’s hip as he lightly moaned and panted, pressing back into his own hand. Sasuke’s eyes widened at the sight, his cock jumping and throbbing, meeting Naruto’s deep blue gaze, his eyes filled with desire and lust. Naruto’s pupils were blown and his eyes were glassy, pink lips parted and slick with saliva, a completed lewd display as he moaned, hitting his prostate. That was all it took; Sasuke grabbed the lube and squirted some in his hand, hastily costing his length as he pushed himself up on the bed. He grabbed Naruto by the waist and spun him down against the bed, the back of his head resting in the pillows. Sasuke took his spot between Naruto’s legs, gripping the younger man’s calves as he forced him to bend his legs around his hips.

Naruto just laid there panting, pressing his ass against Sasuke’s groin, impatient for more. Sasuke chuckled, “can’t wait to feel my cock, can you?” he purred as he lined himself up, teasingly rubbing the head against Naruto’s opening. Naruto whined, pushing back on him, gasping as Sasuke gave in and started to push inside. Sasuke couldn’t help but moan as his cock sank in, balls deep in Naruto’s hot, tight opening. He paused for a moment to take in the view; Naruto’s desperate eyes, licking his lips slowly before gripping Sasuke’s face, teeth clashing together as he forced his tongue in his mouth. Sasuke was too frenzied to start slow, immediately pulling out and slamming back into Naruto, moaning deep in his throat as he felt Naruto clench around him. He plowed him hard, each thrust punctuated by Naruto’s gasps, absolutely keening as Sasuke’s abs pressed against his cock, already close to finishing. Sasuke moves downward slightly and sank his teeth into the fleshy spot in the crook of Naruto’s neck, sucking and nibbling his skin, marking him, claiming him. His. Naruto grabbed Sasuke’s hair and pulled hard, groaning as Sasuke’s tongue danced across his neck, back arching up as he wrapped a hand around his throbbing cock, working up a quick rhythm.

“F-Fuck, Sasuke, g-gonna cum,” Naruto gasped as Sasuke grazed against his prostate, a sly smirk curling over Sasuke’s lips as he pulled Naruto’s legs further up his sides, forcing his dick deeper into Naruto’s tight opening, unyieldingly hitting his prostate as he stroked him. With one final gasp Naruto came, slick white strings spurting on Sasuke’s chest as he leaned down and nuzzled into Naruto’s neck, relishing in the small sounds he was making in his ear. Sasuke buried himself deep before finally tipping over the edge, groaning as he went slack, collapsing upon Naruto’s chest. They both stayed still for a while, blissed out, overwhelmed, maybe a little afraid of what would come next.

Finally Sasuke pushed himself up on shaky arms, sauntering towards the bathroom completely nude, smirking to himself as he felt Naruto’s eyes watching his ass as he left the room. He quickly wet a washcloth and headed back towards his room, hastily cleaning himself off before kneeling on the bed next to Naruto, gently wiping him off, admiring the rivulets of water dripping down his toned abs. Naruto just laid there silently, trying to allow everything to sink in, struggling to come to terms with the major step they had just taken; he hadn’t even noticed when Sasuke started helping him get dressed, mindlessly lifting his arms to allow him to slip his shirt over his shoulders.

”Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” Sasuke murmured so quietly that it was barely audible but the words came through to Naruto loud and clear. A feeling of hope - a feeling so foreign and long forgotten - welled in his chest, his heart pounding as his eyes teared up. Sasuke sank back onto the mattress, wrapping Naruto up in his arms, pulling his face to his chest while gently caressing his cheek, allowing his eyes to slide shut as they drifted off into a comfortable afternoon nap.

#naruto fic #naruto fanfic #yaoi #naruto smut #naruto emeto #emeto #whump #hurt/comfort #sick naruto uzumaki #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #shikamaru nara #angst #naruto one shot #masterlist #misharuu #illumivomi #emetophilia

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no-thots-rink-empty · 3 years

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little rant, feel free to ignore:

last night my friend drunk texts me about how much she misses me, which like is very sweet. We haven’t seen each other in almost 2 years and I miss her too. She then starts talking about how much she liked me in highschool and regrets not making a move (which I did know, we talked about it right before college). Which like is fine, I also had some feelings for her in highschool but then we dated other people and the rest is history (she has a boyfriend, I’m very over my feelings). Anyway she then goes on to be like “i’m going to facetime you” and i’m like “okay we can talk but like if you want to have a serious conversation about your feelings we should wait until you’re sober” and she agreed, but she facetimed and we were just shooting the shit mostly and then she brought up this other friend who she is really close friends with and I used to be friends with but some shit happened and we pretty much stopped being friends. This makes me emotional I start crying a bit and she feels bad for making me cry, i try and reassure her that it wasn’t her fault i’m just an emotional mess and it’s gotten much worse this past year, I cry very easily now.

fast forward to today: we facetime again b/c she wants to talk sober, we’re chatting she gets me to talk about like how i’m doing (spoiler: not great, very lonely, very much in need of therapy etc.) and she talks a little more about what’s been going on with her (she’s doing well which I am so happy for). Then we get on the topic of our old friends from high school who I’ve pretty much lost contact with but she’s still close with.

Anyway it turns out after we facetimed the night before she then facetimed that friend that I had a falling out with and talked about me (not in a bad way just like a “i just talked to them yadda yadda” and apparently that friend was like “damn i should check in and see how they’re doing”

AND SO tonight she texted me for the first time since 2019 to see how I was doing and I responded like “not doing hot but trucking along, hope you’re doing well” but like i don’t know what to do now??? Do I try and restart the friendship???? she lives halfway across the country???? what is going on??? fuck....

#personal #long post #sorry i just needed to get this out #and don't have a lot of ppl to talk to

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riverboundao3ff · 4 years

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Riverbound, Chapter 16

You are THE GUARDIAN and it is currently Sad Bitch Hours.

It’s not like you were expecting Zebruh to do a complete one-eighty, see the light, and join the rebellion, but you definitely weren’t counting on him trying to lock you in one of his rooms and almost give you a concussion in the process. Granted, you could have easily just zapped out, but still. Why wouldn’t he just listen?

Your arms hurt where his claws pierced your skin. With your luck they’d be infected by morning, if not sooner.

“You okay, robobuddy?”

Mallek’s striking blue eyes are soft and full of concern when you look up at him, and it fills you with guilt. This guy threw hands with an indigoblood for you and he’s asking if you’re okay?

“... Yeah. Just tired.” You lean against him, ignoring the drying salt on your face from your tears. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Nah. Just a little scratched up.”

You nod.

“No concussion?”

“I don’t think so.”

A loud whoop pulls you from your pity party and back into the real world, and you look up to see Diemen Xicali waving at you from down the sidewalk. Leaning on him is the little kid, looking a bit shocked by everything that had just happened but thankfully much less injured than two nights ago. Zebruh must have let her use a medicalizer to heal her broken leg; her calf is still bruised up but she’s putting weight on it. By her side is some kind of oversized rodent lusus.

“Guys that was crazy!” he shouts joyfully, hauling the poor kid with him as he makes his way over to you and Mallek. You two meet him halfway with the rest of the group close behind.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Mallek demands.

“Not really. He just… wouldn’t let us leave. Said that we owed him for letting us take shelter at his hive. Also, his lusus is frickin’ terrifying,” Diemen complains. He hisses under his breath, which surprises you because you’ve never, ever heard him make a noise like that before. “If I ever see him again it’ll be too soon.”

The girl is staring at you in the way little kids like to stare at things, so you smile and do your best to appear as non-threatening as possible. You’re a mess from getting roughed up by Zebruh, but Daraya is still holding her new black eye from getting kicked by a pissed-off horse lusus, so at least you’re not alone.

“And alien! I can’t believe you’re alive! I’d give you a hug, but…” Diemen pats the kid’s shoulder and shrugs.

“Don’t even worry about it. I missed you too, dude,” you tell him warmly. Man, the look on his face when you two saw each other in Zebruh’s living room was priceless. Luckily, Zebruh had been way too distracted by ranting about some new rustblood singer to notice you desperately signaling him to stay quiet, or else you would have totally blown your cover.

The rodent lusus squeaks, looking up to the girl, who startles and then nods. “T-Thanks for saving us.

“I was glad to. We all are,” you promise.

“As long as I never have to get kicked in the fucking face again,” Daraya mutters.

Lanque scoffs. “At least you didn’t get bucked off and thrown clear across the hive.”

“Oh, shut up--”

“Anyways,” you say loudly, “Good job tonight, everybody.”

“Would have been better if I got to rip Codakk’s bulge off and shove it down his THROAT,” Konyyl growls.

“Kinky,” Azdaja says. Tyzias snorts and Stelsa smacks her shoulder in disgust.

“Guys, there’s a kid present,” you remind them patiently before turning back to Diemen. “Let’s go get oblong meat products sometime, okay?”

“You bet!”

Mallek ends up going with him and the kid to make sure they get back to their neighborhood in one piece, and Konyyl and Azdaja split off after making you promise them you’ll be around for flavordisk dinner next wipe. Polypa does the same; apparently Tegiri texted her with an urgent request to come to his hive immediately. Knowing ‘Giri, the poor guy probably finished another sad-ass anime and needed somebody to help pick out a new series to watch.

The teals walk you and the jades as far as the city limits before turning back to go to class. Apparently, this was one lecture they all really wanted to attend because it has something to do with the history of several legislations passed concerning the limited income provided for lowbloods, specifically up to the olive caste.

“The more we know about systemic oppression, the more we can do to fight it,” Tyzias growls determinedly. “I’ll tell you later how many controversial questions I got to ask before I get kicked out of the class group chat.”

“That’s kind of badass,” Daraya says with a small smile.

“You’re risking your marks, babe,” Stelsa frets. “I mean, it’s admirable, I just worry.”

“My marks will survive. All that extra credit I did is gonna save my ass, don’t worry,” Tyzias assures her. Stelsa seems pacified for the time being, but as soon as her back is turned Tyzias winks at Daraya before strolling off with her matesprit and Tagora.

Daraya’s face flushes jade until her entire face is dark, much to your delight.

As soon as your other friends are out of earshot Lanque is on her like fleas on a stray dog. “My, my, Daraya, are you feeling well? Your face is so green!”

“I’ll teleport us back to the caverns so Lanque can take your temperature,” you jump in, smacking the backside of your hand to her forehead as if feeling for a fever. “You’re not nauseous or anything, right? No loss of appetite?”

Daraya smacks your hand away with a snarl and stomps off to the cavern trail, making Lanque laugh so loud it echoes off the mountainside.

You grin and chase after the younger jadeblood, coming up on her left side. “Come on, dude, tell me how it's going! Have you told her yet?”

“Shut up! No, not yet, I haven’t-- it’s gonna happen, Bombyx, don’t give me that look! We’re just… busy right now! I’m a leader!” Daraya hisses, trying and failing to squirm away from you and Lanque.

“Exactly why you should tell her as soon as possible! Imagine how much better you two might lead together if you were moirails,” Lanque argues.

“You two are perfect for each other,” you sing, grinning at her.

“And Stelsa likes you, which is a bonus.”

“Oh, yeah, I definitely wouldn’t wanna be on Stelsa’s bad side. Look, we just want you to know that we support you no matter what--”

“And that there’s no time like the present.”

You signal Lanque to hold off for a second and pat Daraya’s arm. “We just want you to be happy. You deserve it more than anybody.”

“Except for Wanshi,” Lanque interjects.

“I’d gladly kill somebody for Wanshi,” you agree wholeheartedly. “But are ya picking up what we’re laying down?”

Daraya looks unsure of herself, crossing her arms and hunching in on herself, just a bit. “Do you really think she likes me back?”

You look to Lanque for support, and he nods. “She most definitely does. You don’t see the way she looks at you when you have your back turned.”

Something like hope warms her dark eyes, and she walks with her head held a little higher all the way back to the caverns.

Sneaking back in is pretty easy-- you just zap yourself and the jades to Lanque’s room, the owner of which then kicking you and Daraya out so he can take a nap.

“Ugh. I was hoping I’d get some excuse to not come back here until tomorrow so I don’t have to I.D grubs. Shit takes forever,” she groans as you two walk along a stone path.

From what you remember, I.D-ing grubs involved giving them a sign, recording their weight and blood color, and setting them free in the main caverns to be chosen by a lusus. You’ve helped out a couple of times with Bronya in the past with I.D stuff. Of course she didn’t let you do any of the actual recording, because she’s a perfectionist like that and wanted to do everything herself, but she did have you hold fussy grubs to calm them down so she could work in peace.

“I’ve done that a few times with Bronya. I’ll help you,” you offer.

“Really?”

“Yeah, dude, let’s go.”

She seems a bit less grouchy after that, and even calls a particular plump indigoblood grub you come across a “mega-thick boy”.

Being in the main caverns has always been a game of Russian roulette for you, as drones came and went all the time and stayed on nearly constantly after a new brood hatches. For your own safety you usually just help out in Bronya’s secret nursery, but if you’re feeling extra brave like you are tonight then you take your chances. Besides, after what happened earlier you need to snuggle some babies to get that sweet, sweet serotonin.

You follow Daraya to a natural pocket in the cave wall, where a cluster of eggs was placed. To your delight, two are hatching and one little goldblood is already wiggling around on its back, squeaking irritably as it tries to roll over again and again, failing each time.

“Hang in there, buddy,” you say, reaching in and flipping them over to their stomach. They stop crying and blink up at you with giant yellow eyes. You chuckle and gently scratch under their chin, which makes them give a barely-audible rickety purr.

“Grab her for me,” Daraya says, searching through the nearby lockers before pulling out a scale, binder, and pen.

You scoop up the goldblood and hold her still as Daraya checks her over before scribbling something down in the binder. “So how do you tell which ones are male and which ones are female? They all look the same.”

Her thick brows furrow in confusion. “Uh, their scent? Boys smell a little like rainwater, girls are kind of smokey. Also, girls are bigger.”

You sniff the goldblood. “Smells like cave to me.”

Daraya rolls her eyes, but the corner of her lips are twitching up. “So if you can’t see in the dark, or hear that well, or smell, how are you even alive?”

“If I had a caegar for every time somebody asked me that I’d be able to buy a tank to shoot a big fat hole in Her Imperious Bitchface’s left asscheek.”

“A rebel can dream. Set her on the scale.”

You set the goldblood on the scale. Daraya records her weight and releases her into the wild, or at least into the main cavern.

“Good luck,” you call after her.

“If luck’s on her side, she might not need it when she grows up,” Daraya says, almost to herself.

You both fall into a routine with the next couple of grubs. There’s a rustblood, then a bronzeblood, and after a couple of minutes another egg hatches to reveal an olive. All three are recorded and set off into the unknown. Every time, you ask the universe to look favorably upon them, because there isn’t much else you can do at the moment.

If anything, let them be loved.

“You look like you need to fart,” Daraya tells you after she releases a particularly feisty cerulean girl. “Which means you’re thinking about something.”

You pout. “Yeah, well, your eyeliner is smudged.”

“I smudge it on purpose so everybody can really see the bags underneath my eyes and know that my last fuck has long since departed to the afterlife.”

“That’s valid. If you have to know, I’m trying to telepathically communicate to the grubs that I love them and that they’ll do amazing things when they get older,” you explain.

“... I was trying to be funny, but that’s actually really sweet.” She stares down at the squirming teal grub in her arms. “I wish I could do that.”

“Be telepathic?”

“No. Have enough love for everybody.”

You sigh, leaning back against the cold stone. Above you, bioluminescent fungi glows blue and white in the darkness. “Daraya, I think the fact that you’re leading a rebellion to make the world a better place shows that you’re more than capable of love.”

“But I’m doing it because I’m angry. I hate this place.”

“Why? Because it’s oppressive and unfair and traumatizing?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Exactly. When we’re strong enough to show Alternia who we are and what we stand for, don’t you think there’s gonna be millions of kids like you who realize that they deserve better? Or, if they already know, might finally have the courage to do something about it?”

Daraya sets the grub down and watches it scamper off. “You amaze me. Sometimes you do stupid shit like that one time you got really drunk with Lanque at a party and I had to stop you guys from jumping off the roof of somebody’s hive and into their pool. Sometimes you say stuff so incredibly deep and comforting it makes me think some great cosmic force sent you here to make everybody’s lives just a little bit better.”

You swallow back something hard in your throat. “To be fair, I can swim just fine.”

“Uh-huh. But Lanque can’t.”

Fuck’s sake, why can’t you just tell her? She should know what you are, what you’re capable of, the lengths you’re going, will go to save Alternia. They all should know.

Every single one of your friends so far have been completely overjoyed to have you back. The more time passes, however, the more you feel like you don’t deserve them anymore. You know that one day they’re going to find out. It’s only a matter of time before you accidentally let something slip or have to explain why you have so much power over the fabric of reality itself.

You open your mouth before you can wimp out, fully intent on telling Daraya everything, but when you turn to address her she’s staring down at the tiniest rustblood you’ve ever seen. The thing is no bigger than one of your feet. They’re on the scale, but Daraya isn’t writing anything down. She doesn’t even look like she’s breathing.

“Daraya? You okay?” you ask, concerned. Crap, did you give the poor kid an existential crisis?

“... He’s too small.”

You push off the wall and stride over to her. “Huh?”

She takes a short breath. “He’s too small. He doesn’t meet the weight requirement for male rustbloods. I… I’m supposed to…”

Realization hits you like a crowbar to the face. Your stomach rolls as you look down at this tiny baby, who’s chirping indignantly at being removed from his warm nest.

“He… but he looks completely healthy. He’s moving around and responding to stimuli and everything,” you get out.

“A grub can be healthy and still need to be culled. The Empire doesn’t want runts. Neither do lusii,” Daraya explains tonelessly. “The only reason Karako’s alive is because Bronya raised him herself. Even then, if he makes it to adulthood it’ll be a fucking miracle.”

The thought of Karako at the end of a culling fork makes you want to throw up. “Then I’ll take him to Bronya.”

“You do realize that he still might not make it?”

“Yeah. But that’s what we’re here for, right?”

Daraya nods and hands you the grub. “Don’t come here after you’re done. The drones will be coming back for the day soon.”

“Got it.”

You zap out of there and hope that teleportation won’t give the baby some form of developmental disability.

As you suspected, the lights are on underneath the door to Bronya’s nursery. Glancing up and down the corridor to make sure nobody’s around to see what you’re doing, you carefully tuck the grub into the pocket of your hoodie and knock.

Quiet footsteps approach the door from the other side. You wave at the peephole.

The lock clicks, and Bronya opens the door with a warm smile. Everything suddenly feels a little more manageable. “What a surprise! I’ve been hoping you’d stop by.”

“Hi, Bronya,” you say, stepping in and shutting the door behind you. “Sorry I haven’t been able to come by sooner. Geez, you vanish off the face of the planet for half a sweep and suddenly you’re everybody’s favorite alien.”

“Well, you can hardly blame them, can you?” Bronya tuts. At the table across from the slime pools, she types in something to her husktop before shutting it. “Wanshi cried for ages after you were gone. She was absolutely convinced you were dead in a ditch somewhere, the poor thing.”

“Aw, Bronya, don’t make me feel even more guilty.”

She grins at you. “Just teasing. I’m almost finished wrapping everything up for the day, but you’re more than welcome to hold the grubs if you want.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that. Unfortunately, I think I’m about to add even more to your workload.” With a sigh, you bring out the tiny rustblood and present him to her.

Bronya’s eyes widen, and in a flash she’s right in front of you, nearly making you crap your pants. You’d forgotten how fast trolls can move when they really want to. “He didn’t meet the weight requirement, I assume?”

“No. Other than that he seems perfectly healthy, he’s just…” You chuckle nervously. “He’s really frickin’ tiny.”

You hand him over to her before she can get too itchy about not holding him. She cuddles him to her chest with the softest expression you’ve ever seen. It makes you wonder about how some trolls thrive on nothing but violence but others live to take care of others. On Alternia, is it nature or nurture that makes a person?

“He’s beautiful.” She looks up at you with shining dark green eyes. “Thank you for saving him. I can’t name many others even in the caverns who would have done the same.”

“Daraya’s the one who found him, so… can’t take all of the credit.” Wow, is it hot in here or is it just you?

“Well, I’m glad she made a good choice, even if by our society’s standards it wasn’t the right one,” Bronya tells you as she sets the grub down in one of the slime pools. The other inhabitants, three other rusts, a goldblood, and two bronzes roll over and accept him into their cuddle pile without hesitation.

“Yeah. Sometimes the good choice and the right choice just aren’t the same thing,” you mumble, watching an indigoblood in the adjacent pool kick their little legs in their sleep.

Bronya nods. She looks tired as she sits down heavily at the table, and you want to tell her to go get some rest, but you can tell there’s something on her mind.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” you ask.

She hesitates, looking almost ashamed before drawing herself upright and exhaling quietly. “... Actually, yes. I’m afraid you’re the only person I can trust enough to do this.”

You sit down across from her, looking her in the eyes to make sure she knows you’re being serious for once. “You can talk to me, Bronya. And I promise I’m not making pale advances or anything, because I’m already one-hundred percent taken.”

That gets a smile out of her. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I missed having a listening ear like yours.”

“My hearing might be terrible by troll standards, but I’ll try my absolute best.”

“... It started not long after you… disappeared. Daraya began acting… strangely,” Bronya begins. “She’s always been a bit of a lone wolf, but this was something different. She’d vanish for half a night, and then eventually she wouldn’t be back until the sun was coming up. She fell behind in her duties. Of course I did my best to be understanding, she looked up to you more than anybody-- she still does, even if she’ll never say it. We all missed you terribly.”

You nod. You’ve got an awful suspicion as to where this is going, but you don’t want to entertain the thought that Bronya would ask you to do… what you think she’s going to ask you to do.

“She got a little better with time, but that didn’t change her little vanishing act. I tried to get her to talk to me, which went as well as one thought it would. Then I tried to stop her from leaving. That went even worse.”

“Daraya’s got a hell of a temper,” you say.

“That she does. Then, a couple of perigees in, Lanque started doing the same thing. Leaving at odd hours, coming back smelling of strange places. Thankfully they finally got their act together concerning their responsibilities around here, which I thought would be a turning point for them, but… they just wouldn’t stop!” Bronya hisses, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Clouds are white, the grass is purple, and jadebloods aren’t allowed to leave the caverns. Three simple facts of life, and yet those two insist on ignoring the latter!”

“Were they happier?” you ask.

Bronya blinks, confused. “What?”

“I get that ignoring their responsibilities must have been a massive pain in the rear, but what about after they figured it out? Did their mental health benefit from going to the surface?”

She looks down at you like you just asked her why the Alternian sun is hot. “From an outsider’s perspective it must seem harsh, I know. But a jadeblood’s purpose isn’t to be happy. It’s to ensure the continuation of our species.”

“So… do you want me to try and get them to stop? Because I’m gonna tell you right now that’s not gonna work. Both Daraya and Lanque are very strong and I am very small,” you tell her.

“Of course not. The thing is, they both trust you very much, possibly more than their fellow jadebloods. Which is why I want you to keep going with them when they sneak out, and then I want you to tell me what they’ve been up to this whole time.”

For the second time tonight you’re struck speechless.

“I know it’s a terrible favor to have to request of you. But I’m afraid I have no other choice. Lanque and Daraya’s loyalty and priorities have become completely skewed over the perigees and as head jade, it’s my duty to steer them back on course,” Bronya declares.

“... Right.”

A nobler version of you would stand up and angrily, but politely tell Bronya that there was no way that you’d ever betray your friends’ privacy like that. You would tell her that you value her as a friend and thank her for letting you stay and work here whenever you felt like. Then, you would explain that as much as you’ve come to respect her, you simply cannot do this for her.

What you do instead is to swallow back your sadness and say, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Bronya looks so happy and relieved you nearly make a break for it in utter shame. “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much. I knew that you’d always be brave enough to do the right thing.”

But the right thing isn’t always a good thing! you want to cry.

She sees you out after that, a comforting hand on the small of your back. She tells you to rest well and that everything is going to be okay.

The second she closes her respiteblock door you start to cry as quietly as possible. You walk down the corridor, and when you’re sure she’s out of earshot you take off running. Everybody else is already back in their rooms, which you’re grateful for so nobody can see your pathetic ass having an anxiety attack while sprinting like fucking Usain Bolt.

You want to go curl up in Lynera’s study and cry yourself to sleep, but you’re already keeping one too many secrets from the people you care about so much. You’re not going to be a coward about this, even if it means starting the shitshow to end all shitshows, even if it means losing one of your oldest friends.

You take a moment to catch your breath in a supply closet, and then you go find Lanque.

#hiveswap #hiveswap friendsim trolls #pesterquest #hometuck #riverbound #mspa reader #the guardian #c16

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lockdownuk · 4 years

Text

Lockdown Diary Part 4

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day91: I can’t post photos to the sister photo diary and it’s fucking me off. Using this as a place holder- last successful pic was 21/06/2020.

Day 92: Still awaiting Tumblr re: day 91′s entry. Meanwhile looking at other blog/diary sites. Very warm today, like it was throughout May. Boris announced a further relaxation in lockdown measures which includes reducing the 2m distancing instruction which paves the way for pubs, restaurants and other places to open on 4th . It looks like the Ship will open 6th July, George on the 4th. I await to see the measures put in place before deciding whther it’s a goer.

Day93: Typing on day 94 - I received an email from Deryn from RCI HR concerning placement online module attendance, thanking me for my participation. I was somewhat confused. Was this a mistake or was I erroneously not icluded in the initial communications? I fired off an email to HR and WhatsApp’d Jim. He replied that I should take it up with HR.

I am worried by this. Furlough ends this week and I know not what the fuck is going on.

Day 94: Had a few beers last night, ‘cos I was feeling deflated over work. Finished Homecoming S2, which was very good, and cancelled Amazon Prime before the free trial ends tomorrow. Got up @midday but haven’t done jack shit today as my right ankle is playing up - it was twinging last night - apart from press ups. No word back from RCI but there was a notification that the email from Deryn was attempted to be recalled. Had a spat in Co-Op wth two lads who were ignoring the one way system and social-distancing. It makes my blood boil and I had to say something which ended up making my blood boil even more…especially as one of them asked me to ‘crack on’. It’s a pretty cool response actually, since I had them bang to rights but, at the time, I thought I was going to bust a blood vessel. I walked away having told him to not speak to me like that again and that he was a fucking arsehole! Didn’t make me feel any better though. Fog’s chatting later so I’m going to have a few beers right now (just gone 8pm) - I feel like throwing caution to the wind for some reason (probably work more than anything else).

Day 95: Typing on Day 96. I had a lot of beers with Fog the night before last and felt like shit all day yesterday. Still managed to drag myself up to Foggy’s and have socially distanced beers in his garden with Noel and Lord Irish of Michael.

Day 96: Feeling like shit. Third day of no walking ‘cos my ankle is a little sore although I did walk back from Foggy’s last night.

Day 97: Two walks and my usual stair climb today. Felt good to get back to routine. Plus, no booze yesterday, even tho’ it was a Saturday, feel better for it. I heard from Sue Cockings from HR on Friday, btw, still furloughed until further notice.

Day 98: I discovered, yesterday, that today is actually day 99 of lockdown since it actually begun on the Sunday evening that Boris Johnson announced the measures being in place - I mistakenly thought it began on the Monday. Tumblr still haven’t got back to me regarding reviewing why this blog is deemed ‘sensitive’ and I can’t add any more pics. While I am typing, Northampton are beating Exeter 0-2 at Wembley in the L2 play-off final. It’s funny that their fans can’t be there to see it. Football, in general, on its return after lockdown, without fans in attendance, is shit - like watching women’s football - too many empty seats.

Day 100: I have decided to number the days correctly (See prev’ entry). It’s a good time as I had to export , delete and recreate this blog on Tumblr since they have been non-forthcoming in my request for info as to why they deemed it ‘sensitive’. So, this is a restart, altrough seemless to the reader. On top of all that, I am writing this on Day 101! After restarting the blog diary I forgot to add the day’s entry! Bumped into Roger on my second walk, at the top of Basset Ford Place. We chatted for an hour or so. It was really good to see him and talk. We’ve made a promise to interact more...it seems both he and I allow ourselves to get down in the dumps (easy in self-isolation) and, as such, we shall try to reach out as and when. He suggested a walk together every now and then.

Day 101: I heard back from a charitable services company that Barry Haddon (who, coincidentally, I spoke with today) told me about (Auriga)and answered their email questions. BNarry rates them and told me they got him some decent results like he no longer has to pay Council Tax. I tweeted Chris Hawkes on Radio 6 this morning...he was asking for examples of sames names (’cos he had Dave Gorman on) so I told him about The Redlion and the ad the ‘other’ Tim put in the ET. He read it out! I created a photo album of 101 pics I’ve taken in lockdown and put it on FB including the Oundle Chatter group. The comments were great. My right eyesight is worrying, I cannot make out close up detail i.e. reading is blurred. I am going to start doing 10 press ups after each exercise i.e. three times a day. I decided that during my second walk so today I’ve done 20. Lastly, I have new neighbours I do believe. Hmmm.

Day 102: Emailed dad and Rita to have a rant about what dad thought of the Leicester lockdown and to share a link to my 101 photo album. Had a long Messenger chat with Rog.

Day 103: Typing this on day 104. Dad called when I was out ona walk so we skyped when I got back. He looks really well! Advided me on how to cutt some branches that are hanging low (I asked him in the email yesterday). I then borrowed a saw, secateurs and green bin from Karen. I walked a long way today. My second walk was 9km.I then had loads of beers! The Co-Op car park seems to be the venue for youngsters to hang out. I was gone 2am before they finished partying. I (re)watched Steve Jobs. Wow....just wow. What a film and what a man!

Day 104: It was gone 1:30pm when I got up feeling the worse for wear. A chilli, chorizo and cheese omelette really sorted me out but no beer tonight. How my Saturday frame of mind has changed from just a few years ago. Elliot and Camilla dropped off a jar of japaenos (that Mil had WhatsApp’d me about) and, among other things, we chatted about a photo Tracie Garrett circulated featuring Ell, me her and a few others who met up to have a drink at The Haycock for Ron Gambling. In it was Cath and someone called Ross (who I don’t remember) who have both passed since the pic (July ‘99). I feel strangely saddened by it all. The pic itself is such a reminder of days past - it conjours up shit loads of different feelings.

Day 105: A few beers again last night so another late one (5ish) but up before noon. Finished watching a series called Condor. Pretty good - bit of a messy ending that is the norm with telly nowadays in that it is a little bit of a cliffhanger.

Day 106: The Ship reopened today. I left a nice message on the Virtual Pub group page wishing them the best plus said thanks to Rach. I think it will be the end of the laugh we’ve had on the virtual site now. I expect to go through a bit of a miserabel time with people now venturing out down the pubs.We were once all united in lockdown - that will no longer be the case. Met Rog for a walk - did over 7km oncluding through Barnwell Picnic Park - I don’t remember it being that pretty. defo going to go there again. Got an email from RCI asking for all furlough workers to join a Zoom meeting tomorrow with Paul (MD) and Deryn (HR). Ominous! Went shopping in Asda and Farm Foods. £100 with NO BOOZE!

Day 107: The zoom call today didn’t tell me much other than we are being furloughed still, until further notice. It was susggested that we have a zoom meeting every 2 weeks and that RCI recognise we’ve be left out in the cold somewhat. I appreciate that very much.There were 30 of us on the call plus Paul and Deryn were in the office since they had to make peopel redundant today. Mark was in the office earlier to take receivership of the IT kits from those that left.

Day 108: I am well on the way to doing 1,000,000 steps in theree months (July, August & September) but at what cost. I’ve done well over 11,000 steps each day in July (actually, a lot of days in June as well) apart from one (8k) and I am feeling it. My right leg/ankle is sore! Day 109: I had another mention by Chris Hawkins on Radio 6. He asked for Brian May moments - apparently when he met Brian May he was so starstruck that all he could say was ‘thank you for the music’. I tweeted my story of telling Felicity Kendall to have a good life. Today, both my walks have resulted in me getting fucking soaked. Hanna S2 is on Amazon Prime. Time for yet another free trial (number 4 or 5).

Day 110: I have walked 144,448 steps in 10 days, well on the way to a million steps in three months. The Heist of the Century - an Argentinian film based on true events - watched it last night (well, over two nights, actually). A real life Ocean’s Eleven (but with 6). Brilliant film, brilliat story. I had issues signing up to another Amazon Prime free trial last night so I set up another gmail a/c just now and I think I’m in. I used Danny’s Gmail (which I created over 15 years ago!) and it didn’t like it - I think I must have used it before. I reckon I have probably had loads more free trials than I care to remember. Anyway, off to watch me some Hanna!

Day 111: Very tired as I type. Bed at around 5am, up at 13:30, normal exercises, cleaning kitchen cupbaords and I’m done in. It’s 10:30pm now, just cracked open a beer and about to watch a new Netflix film “The Old Guard”. I would continue with Hanna but Amazon Prime keeps fucking erroring. I will try to go to bed before it gets light (which seems to be my w/e norm nowadays!

Day 112: I have got into the habit of eating dinner far too late. It’s 10:30pm as I type and I am just about to have something eat. I’m not sure why I feel it’s wrong to eat so late but I do, I shall be trying to address it. Late night again last night (gone 4:30am) so today was a lazy day. Only on ewalk but it was 10km and I get up the above 11,000 steps needed for the 1m challenge. My stair climb, at around 9pm, fucking killed.

Day 113: Boring Monday.

Finished watching The Old Guard on Netflix. A Highlander-esque affair with Charlize Theron kicking ass like she did in Atomic Blonde. It was OK. Haven’t manage to lick the late night eating. It’s 10:05pm and tea’s still cooking.

Day 114: I have been looking at planning persmissions on the ENDC site for questions posed on the Oundle Chatter group on FB. There’s going to be two sites with 130 new houses on each and it’s causing concern. And so it should - the planning docs are very revealing. Objections are dismissed in such an off-hand way. It’s really quite insulting. I was awfully down today, during my first walk. I mean, really despondant (too difficult to describe here), which is a lower version of the norm - it’s been a good couple of weeks since anyone’s even asked how I am! A week since that post on my main blog. But, I powered through and am back to the usual depth! I ate at @9:30 pm tonight. Told ya!

Day 115: I am typing this on Day 116 - I ended up hainga couple of beers last night and forgot to post. I had the most ridiculous toing and froing on FB and Messenger with Rachel (Harris) - it was piss funny. She is the first person in days, actually weeks, who has asked how I am! I watched ep3 of Hanna S2. Absolutely superb. She kills Marissa! Did not see that fucker coming...mind blown! Day 116: I have finally finished the thorough clean of the kitchen. Fucking drama. I am typing at just gone 10pm, about to eat (curry I made yesterday). It’s been a strange day, timings wise, last night’s drinking meant I wasn’t up until just gone noon which obviously didn’t help. I had a call from DSM group - I applied for an IT tech role, they want to see me tomorrow (Friday) for an interview (in Sibson). Interesting! (Although the contact, Helen, hasn’t sent the promised email!)

Day 117: Despite not getting a confirmation email, I attended the interview at DSM. It went OK (I was there for 90 mins). I went booze shopping in Tesco’s afterwards. Spoke to dad today also - he and Rita are well, as usual! I am feeling really knackered and achy today. I do hope it’s not anything to worry about.

Day 118: Up at 1pm. 9.79 km walk. Cooking meatballs, drinking beer, listening to The Blaze about to watch Deepwater Horizon. All good today!

Day 119: Similar to yesterday, up late, bloody long walk, watching Saving Private Ryan (which I started last night).

Day 120: Typing on day 121. Received an email from someone that works at the BBC for Shaun Keaveny’s show - they want me to do small claims court on August 5th. I’m becoming obsessed with getting my steps in - my second walk was extended to round Barnwell Country Park - over 17.5k steps - not the most I’ve done in one day but, for example, most in one day last month (June) was 14.7k. More importantly, I am finding that I can walk further (and for longer) and not have a hypo; not a great deal further, but over an hour.

#diary #Tumblr diary #lockdown #covid19 #lockdownuk

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