7 months later... i finish this. in my defense. i thought i did it already

Sergio Ramos - Disagreements

*WARNING: Extreme smut and foul language. If you find this context disturbing or offending please avoid reading.*

“They hate me, Sergio!” I exclaimed, placing my purse on the kitchen counter while following him through the living room. “No, they don’t.” My Fiance repeated for the fifth time, keeping his back to me as he climbed up the stairs. “They couldn’t be more obvious about it. Especially your mother! She might as well ring me up and say it in my presence! My son can do better, (Y/N)!”

“Stop,” Sergio sighed, running low on patience as he changed into a pair of sweat pants and a plane white shirt. But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop the images from tonight’s dinner from constantly repeating themselves in my memory, taunting me.

Flashback

Annabel, Sergio’s mother, kept her hazel eyes on her plate, avoiding my gaze with everything in her. She poked at her food, not placing a single bite into her mouth throughout the whole evening while her husband, Jose, nagged at her to eat something but she refused every time, shooting me a glare in the process. I had become so uncomfortable and at one point I excused myself to the restroom, finally able to breathe. On my way back to the dining room, I overheard Ann complaining to her husband about my presence. “Why did he have to bring her?” Her tone was laced with disgust, making me stop dead in my tracks just around the corner. “She’s his Fiance, Annabel. Their getting married soon and you’re going to have to accept that.” “But I don’t want to!” She protested, childlike. “My boy can do so much better than that horrid girl… I liked Pilar better than her!” “Annabel you hated Pilar!” Jose chuckled. I held back a sigh while swerving into the living room where Sergio sat, clueless. “Babe?” I mumbled, approaching him warily. He seemed irritated. Maybe his mother said something while I was gone? “Hm?” He kept his gaze on the television. “Can we go home now? I’m tired.” I lied. “Yeah, okay,” He nodded, almost eager to get away from his parents. After gathering our things, Sergio and I bid his parents our farewells and made our way to his car. The ride home became a vortex to hell the moment I asked for an explanation to his sour mood. He began getting defensive, rambling things that didn’t make sense and soon enough we were on the subject of his parents.

“(Y/N) enough, alright?” He climbed into bed, tucking himself in. “I have a big game tomorrow and I really need to rest. We’ll talk about this later.” His tone was dismissive and I knew better than to object. Maybe talking about things after we’ve both calmed down would be the best solution.

I only fell asleep at 7 AM, too distracted by my thoughts to get a bit of shuteye. Due to that, I only woke up at 6 PM. Sergio was gone and I was pretty sure the game had already finished by now. Why the hell didn’t he wake me up? I promised I’d go to that game with him!

A loud slam of a door sounded from downstairs, startling me. “Sergio?” I called out, tiptoeing out of bed in my pajama shorts to come face to face with an extremely angry Sergio. He shot me a glare before shuffling into our bedroom and stripping to nothing but boxers. I watched silently as he pulled a white towel out of the drawer, contemplating whether to speak to him or let him be. 

“How was the game?” I finally gathered the courage to ask.

“Like shit, thanks for asking,” He scoffed sarcastically. So that’s why he’s angry…

“I’m sorry baby,” I walked over to him, ready to offer some comfort only for him to back away. The pout on my lips turned to a frown real quick, and I retreated the hand halfway to his shoulder, dropping it right back to my side. “What’s your problem?” I grumbled, already aggravated.

“What’s my problem? What’s my problem! My problem is that my fiance was too busy sleeping to come and cheer me on! My mind was with you during the whole game and I defended like shit!”

“I couldn’t sleep last night–” I began to explain only to be cut off by him.

“Right! Because you were too busy arguing with me about my parents, who were by the way there to support me when you weren’t.” He snapped. There was no point in arguing with him when he was at this state, and I know that very well, but I couldn’t stop the next words from tumbling out my mouth; “Oh, so now you want to talk about your parents? Let’s discuss this, then!”

Sergio spun around to face me, completely forgetting about his shower. He threw his towel to the side before taking three long strides in my direction, jaw clenched tightly. “Go ahead. Talk.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re getting married in seven months and your mother still hasn’t accepted our relationship! She’s comparing me to your ex girlfriends all the time and pointing out my flaws, hoping you’d see them just as clearly as she does. She doesn’t even bother hiding her sour attitude around me and I just don’t understand how that could go unnoticed by you when–” Sergio’s lips attacked mine in a rough kiss, silencing me midway and I found myself gasping at the sudden tingle running through my stomach. He slammed me against the wall, his hand pinning mine over my head as he pulled away for air. “You never shut up, do you?”

“Sergio don’t–” My protest was cut short when he shoved his free hand down my shorts and panties, inserting a finger into me. “Stop talking,” He hissed, attacking my neck with hard kisses, sucking and biting harshly, marking his territory. A loud moan forced its way out my lips and I unwillingly caved into him, holding myself up by leaning onto his shoulders while his fingers pumped in and out of me at a fast pace. My legs shook with pleasure, and before I could speak a word, I came all over his fingers.

Sergio pulled out, bringing both fingers up to his lips. He sucked on them teasingly, easily arousing me with such actions. I was speechless to say the least– not that I had a chance to speak anyway. I could barely comprehend what was going on when his rough hand shoved my clothing articles down along with his and plunged himself into me without a slight warning. 

“Fuck!” I screamed, my hands gripping at his shoulders for balance. His wild thrusts and fast speed left me gasping for air, unable to mumble a correct word. He filled me up with adrenaline, hitting at all the right spots, just the way I like and I swore to myself I wouldn’t be able to stand straight for  a good two days. “You like that?” He growled into my ear, voice as husky as ever while he plunged in and out of me mercilessly. 

“Y-yes,” I moaned loudly, tilting my head back in pure bliss. 

“Does this please you, (Y/N)? Does this make it worth my mothers constant nagging?” He planted a sloppy kiss below my ear, keeping his face so very close to my neck. “Sergio,” I whimpered, nearing my high. “Tell me this makes it worth the while,” His voice came out a mixture of a plea and a demand. “You make it all worth the while,” I reassured, panting heavily. “I’m so close baby.”

Sergio’s teeth sunk into my shoulder blades, informing me that he was close as well, and in that moment my eyes rolled to the back of my head as I came all over his erection, gasping in relief. He reached his climax only second after, but kept himself inside me until he regained his composure. The two of us exchanged glances, not having to speak a single word in order to understand each other. That was all it took to get him smiling again.

-

Finally! This took me so long! Sorry if its shit im literally forcing my eyes open rn lmao 

Luke - Stupid Mistakes Part 12

So here’s the last part of this series. Thank you for sticking around and requesting all the parts and reading them all! O really appreciate it. I can’t believe it’s finally finished, although I think I might write an epilogue because I couldn’t get Michael onto the end and I love her friendship with Michael. Request an epilogue of you guys want one too and it’ll motivate me to write it quicker. I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

I faltered as soon as a closed Luke’s door and saw someone just as stunned holding a glass of milk. His eyebrow raised.
‘Nothing happened Cal.’ I instantly defended myself.
‘I’m not here to judge.’ He said shaking his head as he held his hands up defensively and walked to the couch.
'Honestly we just fell asleep together.’
'Okay.’ He said smiling like he didn’t believe anything. 'So why are you leaving so early? It seems like you didn’t want to get caught.’ He joked.
'Well kind of. It’s all confusing.’ I sighed and dropped next to him.
'Yeah.’ He glanced at Ashton’s bedroom door.
'No not that. That’s actually sorted. We spoke and we’re definitely just friends.’ I smiled and reached my hand towards his glass of milk, which he passed to me.
'You sure?’
'Definitely. Both of us bursting out laughing when he tried to kiss me certainly settled it.’ I said wiping away my milk mustache. Calum looked at me amused and then burst out laughing as if he couldn’t contain it. Playfully, I punched him on the arm.
I glanced towards Luke’s room and sighed. 'We’re going to talk later.’
'Well I hope it works out. You two were good together.’ He said smiling.
'Yeah, I hope so too.’ I said, passing him his glass back which was significantly less full than when he gave it to me.
'Hey!’ He complained when he realised the lack of milk in his glass. He rolled his eyes and got up to fill his glass again, but not before he gave me a hug before I left.

My flat was spotless but I kept trying to find something to do, fluffing out the pillows, wiping the counter for the third time, just anything that would try to distract me. I was nervous. We had meant to have this conversation a month ago, but today was finally the day and I had no idea what he was going to say or what I was going to say.
Last night had been amazing. It felt like the old times. It felt right, but so much had happened since that time and I couldn’t forget the crippling pain he had caused me even though I really wished I could. I sighed and dropped to the couch. My brain was hurting from the circles of thought that was dizzying me.
The knock from the door sent my nerves into overdrive. I took a deep breath and walked to the door.
'Hey.’ I said, smiling tentatively.
'Hey.’ He said, letting out a breath. Clearly I wasn’t the only one being attacked by nerves. I stepped back and let him in. The awkwardness immediately filled the air, suffocating us.
'Look.’ He started as I said his name. 'Please can I go first?’ He asked as if this was his one chance he could say what he needed to and fearing that if he didn’t he wouldn’t be able to say it another time. I nodded, crossing my arms and then unfolding them again I let them hang awkwardly by my side, not knowing what else to do with them.
'I need to apologise for all of this. It’s my fault that all this happened and I’m so sorry for everything.’ He paused shaking his head. 'There is an explanation though. The girl-from the photo- she’s my manager’s niece. She introduced me to her and she said that she was a big fan, so I let her tag along with us to the club to make my manager happy. Then the next thing I know she starts kissing me and I push her away Y/N. I swear I did.’ His eyes went really big as he pleaded me to believe him. 'It all sounds ridiculous, but people were quick enough to take photos and you know how the media works. It got blown out of proportion and that’s why it wasn’t the first thing on my mind to talk to you about because it was nothing. I couldn’t tell her that I was in a relationship…’
'Because your manager doesn’t know about us.’ I finished off for him. Relationships wasn’t something his manager was keen on especially a nobody that he had met on tour, so we decided to keep it secret.
It was a lot to take in, so I lowered myself onto the arm of a chair for support. I wanted to believe him so much, but there was still some questions I had about it.
'Okay if she was your manager’s niece then why didn’t the others know who she was?’ I asked.
'She came round to our penthouse and I was the only one there. The others had made their way to the club and I had just stayed behind to FaceTime you before you got up for work.
A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I remembered our conversation. I had had to get up ridiculously early that morning to get to work to make up for the time I was taking off to fly over to see him. I shook my head as I remembered him joking about how good of a boyfriend he was that he stayed in whilst his band mates had already gone off to the club. I had rolled my eyes at him, but then he made up for it by saying something sweet about how he would stay and talk to me all night if I hadn’t needed to go to work.
'Okay I believe you.’ I said, looking into his eyes and I truly did believe him. He had always been a bad liar anyway. 'We have both made some stupid mistakes, which I’m really sorry for too.’ I said standing up.
'And I forgive you.’ He said smiling jokingly, which caused me to shove his arm. 'I’m really sorry.’ He said sobering up, dropping his jokey manner. 'Can we start over?’ He asked tentatively.
'Yes.’ I nodded, with the biggest smile plastered on my face. He sighed with relief and wrapped me up in the tightest hug. 'But with one condition.’ I added. He leaned back and peered down at me curiously. 'You tell your manager that you’re in a relationship.’
'Deal. I’ll do anything for you. I’ll tell the whole world.’ He said hugging me again whilst resting his chin on my head.
'You big cheese ball.’ I laughed, but hugged him tightly, thankful that everything was back to normal again.

Sabrielation: Day 1

((This was supposed to be a short little thing that I was going to upload yesterday, but it kinda took on a mind of its own and I just rolled with it. Enjoy!!))

At this point in his life, it took a lot to surprise Gabriel. That’s not uncommon when you come from an entire family of hunters. He’d known the truth about the monsters that went bump in the night since before he could really remember, and had hunted them since he was twelve. He’d faced ghosts, vampires, werewolves, demons, and about thirty other less-common varieties of nasties, and had managed to torch, exorcise, or otherwise gank every last one of them. In short, he wasn’t exactly a rookie when it came to all things inhuman and unnatural. This one, though…he was still having a little trouble getting his head around.

“So, you’re an angel. …Seriously?”

For a self-proclaimed Angel of the Lord, the man standing in front of him sure had one hell of a bitchface. “You’ve asked this question three times already, and the answer isn’t going to change.”

“…Seriously?”

Keep reading

Prompt: The Aftermath of War - Part 3

So I’m going to do this one about Shikamaru and Temari. Hopefully this one isn’t too long this time around, haha. Anyways, enjoy!

“Marrying someone looks too troublesome… I’ll just give up…” Shikamaru said to Temari as they observed his parents, Asuma and Kurenai interacting.

“Yeah…” is all Temari replied

Shooting up from his dream for the 14th night in a row, Shikamaru was covered in sweat. Cursing himself and wondering why he keeps on having this dream over and over again, he prepares himself for another ‘troublesome day.’

Leaving his house because of his inability to sleep, Shikamaru took a morning stroll around Konoha because it helped ease his mind. The war had taken quite a toll on everyone, Shikamaru included. Lives were lost. People were injured. Villages were destroyed. But, it wasn’t all a loss.

Peace was achieved. The villages came to understand each other due to Naruto, Sasuke, Kakashi, Sakura, and Obito’s efforts against Kaguya. Shikamaru often thought about his father and the sacrifice he and Ino’s father had made, to make sure they could win the war.

Although his father is gone, making Shikamaru the man of the house, that doesn’t stop him from missing his father from time to time. Shikamaru hasn’t played Shogi since his father passed away, and for good reason.

It hurts too much.

The aftermath of war is bittersweet. Peace and pain seem to go hand in hand after a period of extreme violence. For Shikamaru, whether or not he likes it, is a reality that he has come to face. So for now, Shikamaru does his best just trying to take it one day at a time.

Rounding the corner he finds himself at his favorite spot and like usual, his best friend Choiji is there with a bag of potato chips waiting for Shikamaru to arrive.

“Tch, some things never change..” Shikamaru thinks to himself as he plops down by Choiji, putting his arms behind his head and settling into a very relaxing position while looking at the sun beginning to rise over the horizon.

“Shikamaru, what’s up?” Choiji says in between eating potato chips.

“Not much, Choiji. I had that dream again…”

“Hmm.. that’s two weeks in a row, Shikamaru. When are you going to admit to yourself that these dreams are more than just ‘an after effect of the war?” Choiji questions, putting his chips down to look at his best friend, who is still consumed by the clouds starting to form in the sky.

“Choiji, I told you. These dreams are nothing special. They don’t mean anything.” Shikamaru replied quickly.

“Shikamaru, why are you lying to yourself? It’s been apparent to Ino and I for a while now that you have feelings for Temari. Every time she comes to Konoha, you are the first one to see her, and the last one to see her before she goes. You literally disappear for the duration of her visit. You guys go everywhere together.” Choiji rebuts.

“It’s part of the job.”

“24/7?”

“You know what I mean, Choiji.” Shikamaru getting tired of this conversation, tries to deflect the conversation in a different direction.

“What about Karui, Choiji?” Shikamaru inquires, smirking because he knows two can play this game.

“What. About. Karui?” Choiji responds, irritated that Shikamaru would even bring that up.

“Choiji, everybody knows you two have feelings for each other.”

“We are just friends, Shikamaru!”

“Is that what she thinks?” Shikamaru humorously replies.

“Yes! I don’t know why we are even having this conversation again. Don’t try and put this on me. This is about you and Temari, nice try.”

Slightly upset that his tactics did not work, he decided to let Choiji finish his comments about Temari, before heading to the Hokage Tower to see Kakashi-Sensei, the newly appointed 6th Hokage.

“Shikamaru, I won’t say much else about Temari because I won’t have to. Kakashi-sensei told me that she should be arriving in the village today to do—”

“What?? She’s coming to the village!? How come you didn’t tell me?” Shikamaru interrupted, with much more exasperation seeping through then he had meant to.

“Well, I didn’t think it mattered to you, Shikamaru” Choiji stated.

Befoe Choiji could finish his thoughts, Shikamaru was already speeding towards the village entrance, hoping he hadn’t missed Temari before she arrived.

“Some things never changed.” Choiji chuckled, leaning back to think about a particular beautiful kuniochi from the Cloud Village, who he hoped to see very soon.

Arriving at the entrance in record time, Temari was just pulling in as he landed.

Smirking as he landed, Temari wasted no time taunting Shikamaru “Shikamaru, you’re looking a little exausted. You rushed over here because you were dying to see me?”

“Heh. Don’t hold your breath, Temari. I’m just here to escort you as usual and then see you off like usual.”

“Shikamaru, I’ve been coming to the village since I was 16. I know my way around here. So be honest and just tell me what the real reason is you keep on insisting on escorting me?”

“Just doing my job, Temari. Just doing my job.”

“Alright, whatever makes you happy Shikamaru. Now, if you’re done checking me out, we should go see the Hokage.” Temari said, with a hint of arrogance gracing her voice. “Hn.” Was all Shikamaru could muster.

After a rather uneventful meeting with the Hokage, Shikamaru led Temari to her hotel. Usually, Temari would just give Shikamaru a sly, sarcastic remark and leave, but today was different. Temari paused before entering her hotel room and instead of turning around to leave, she stared and Shikamaru somewhat frustrated.

“Shikamaru…”

“Hmm?”

“We need to talk.”

Temari steels her gaze looking firmly at Shikamaru, giving him a look he has never seen before. Starting to get a bit nervous, Shikamaru prepares himself for the worst. Unbeknownst to him, this conversation would be the start of a very interesing relationship. “Do you remember when we were in Infinite Tysukyomi, Shikamaru?” Temari asks nervously.

“Of course. How could I forget? I thought that was it. Although, because we had gotten everything we wanted, I got to see my sensei and my father one last time. Shikamaru recalls fondly as a small smile begins to form on his face.

” Well do you remember what I told you about my dream, Shikamaru?“ "Yeah. You said it was bittersweet. You were happy because you got to see your mother one last time.” “Well, that wasn’t the only thing that happened. It’s been months since the war but I keep on having a dream about what I saw in the Infinite Tysukyomi.” At this, Shikamaru instantly perked up because he was unsure if he liked the direction this conversation was heading.

“Okay… So what does that have to do me with me?” Shikamaru asks defensively. “Well in the Infinite Tysukyomi… You were also in my dream… I… I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to get a big head, but yeah you were there.”

At this point Shikamaru is in utter disbelief. A small smile graces his faces as he contemplates how to respond to this information.

“What happened in the dream, Temari?” Shikamaru inquires.

“Well as you already know, my mother was still alive. We had talked about everything that I wished I could have talked to her about now. My family, my friends, the shinobi world, new battle techniques, and.. you. ”

Surprised at the last part about her revelation, Shikamaru sees how far he can press this conversation forward. “So, what did you guys say about me?”

Knowing this conversation wouldn’t be easy, Temari braces herself mentally for the inevitable reaction that would result as the continued. But after months of keeping this a secret, it was time she dealt with her fears.

“Well.. if you must know.. she told me that I had become a beautiful young woman, and that I should consider finding myself a man who could take care of me. She also asked me if there was anybody who I had strong feelings for. At first I told her that I’m Temari of the Sand and I don’t need any man to ‘take care’ of me. But.. she saw through that facade really quickly, so I told her abou you, Nara.”

Shikamaru is so surprised that he almost laughs.. almost.

Instead he listens to her very carefully, taking a mental note to apologize to Choiji later and buy him some barbecue.

“I told her you were such a lazy ass sometimes! You’re incredibly intelligent and you got the entire Shinobi Alliance out of many predicaments. You could be extremely powerful if you were more motivated to hone your ninja skills. But instead, you decided that it was too 'troublesome!’ Gah, that word makes me so frustrated sometimes!”

“Okay, okay Temari! Just get to the point. It’s getting late and you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

“Alright, Nara. I also told her how kind you are, and how you always put others before yourself. I told her about the time we were kids and you 'let me win’ because you were 'out of chakra.’ I also told her how I slowly started to develop feelings for you. At first, I thought I was losing myself, me, Temari of the Sand, developing feelings for you.”

“Gee thanks.” Shikamaru says, sounding less than enthused at Temari’s backhanded compliment.“

"Nara, let me finish. As time grew on and us seeing each other more frequently, it became apparent to me that I was starting to have feelings for you. And it really solidified for me after you invited me to your father’s private funeral with just you, your mother, and other members of your clan. I really am touched that you had invited me to the funeral. But, long story short, I have feelings for you Nara.”

“I…I… Temari this is such a- this is very- damn.” Is all Shikamaru could muster as Temari slowly inched closer to Shikamaru.

“So Nara, when are you finally going to tell me that you have feelings for me too?”

Scoffing indignantly, Shikamaru responds “and what makes you think I have feelings for you? Kind of a bold assumption, even for you, Temari.”

“Usually, I’d agree but there are two reasons why I’m saying this. One, Choiji told me about the 'dreams’ you were having. Two, you should wear baggier pants Mr. Nara." 

Blushing furiously Shikamaru realized that he has met his match. Choiji was right all along. But for Shikamaru he was more than happy to lose this round. And he wasn’t even upset with Choiji for telling Temari about his dream. His friend had his back and to him, tha means so much more than some silly promise. 

"I guess that’s what these dreams have subconsciously been trying to tell me, huh?”

“I guess so.” Temari responded. Not wasting any more time, Temari embraced Shikamaru in the deepest of hugs and after letting go, she kissed him passionately; letting herself be swept away by the emotions she had been bottling up for years.

“It’s about time. I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

“Heh. How… Troublesome.” Is all Shikamaru could say.

-Fin

I hope you guys liked that one. That took me a little longer to write because I wanted to get it just right. Like, reblog, follow, critique. Anyways, thanks for reading!

-Bricksquad

Room 23B, Update!

Maks had never felt more stressed in his life.

He wrung his hands together, idly swiping sweat from his hands on his black slacks.

The entire future of his jewelry company ultimately depended upon the decision of the one very affluent buyer he was due to meet with today.

If this deal worked out the way he was praying it would, Cantamessa would land a 2-year exclusive contract with one of the top fashion brands in the world: Alexander McQueen. The new connection with such a famous brand would bring Cantamessa an entirely new level of notoriety and fame—not to mention endless hoards of clientele.

If the deal didn’t work out, however, Cantamessa Jewelers could expect an extensive rough patch ahead of them. The business wasn’t doing wonderfully lately, raking in only about a fraction of the purchases they usually scored. Maks knew why, of course, and it stung his pride; Tiffany and Co. had just released a new line eerily similar to the design he had been crafting for months, and many of his clients had snapped it up the very second it was released.

Any piece he could have possibly released after that would make it look as though he was trying to duplicate Tiffany & Co.’s design, and Maks had the sinking feeling his brand wouldn’t come out on top in a legal battle (his rival brand was more affluent, more powerful, and more likely to hire a kickass defense attorney who would slander his reputation in the industry for good). It would be a crushing blow to his company, his wallet, and his pride.

Maks shook his head emphatically in a vain attempt to clear his thoughts. His business partner saw the grim look upon Maks’ face and said nothing, opting instead to clamp a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

The elevator carried them upwards in silence and Maks found himself wishing it would just go on forever, that they would never have to reach their destination because it was so uncertain and he had to admit he was a bit of a control freak.

The soft ping from the gold-reflected wall dashed his hopes in the gentlest way, reminding the two that they had reached their floor right before the cool metal doors slid open.

It was showtime once more.

Maks ran a shaking hand through his hair, messing with it slightly to take his mind off of things. His eyes widened in what could only be awe as he took in the scene before him.

Before the two men stood a vast expanse of cream-colored tables and chairs, candles and chandeliers, dim lighting and glasses filled with bubbling champagne. Despite his overly anxious mood, he couldn’t help but groan internally. Why couldn’t these buyers ever pick a less high-end restaurant to meet at? Even paying for our meals at a place like this could break the bank…

Maks’ feet stuttered slightly as he took a step inside, shooting a weary glance towards his partner.

“You’ll be fine, Maksy-boy. Just turn on that old Chmerkovskiy charm,” Val nudged Maks’ shoulder, shooting him a sly wink right before a young woman in a professional, gray dress made her way over to them. She took quick, confident strides; Maks could already tell that he may not be able to acquire this buyer’s approval through his usual methods.

Upon reaching the men, the female buyer stuck out her hand.

“Hello, gentlemen. My name is Karina Smirnoff; I am the primary buyer for the world-renowned fashion brand Alexander McQueen,” she announced, just managing a small smile for the two men in front of her.

Maks always found it amusing when buyers endorsed their companies while introducing themselves; he supposed they did it to make themselves seem more important, but he couldn’t help but feel like the buyers were overcompensating for some other void in their lives through their introductions.

(“Look at me, I’m divorced, bitter and alone. I work three jobs to pay my mortgage, and my ex-husband got custody rights for my three children, so I may never see them again…But did you hear I work as a primary buyer for the Alexander McQueen? Not just any regular buyer, and not any regular brand, but the primary buyer and Alexander fucking McQueen!”)

Karina continued on with her introduction, all business and black coffee, oblivious to Maks’ thoughts.

“You must be the co-founders of Cantamessa—the Chmerkovskiy brothers, if I am not mistaken?”

Ah, yes. Maks’ business partner also happened to be his brother—Valentin had taken an interest in the field just 7 years ago, after Maks had delivered a longwinded speech at a family dinner about his career at Tiffany & Co., the 4 C’s of diamonds, appraising gemstones, and working with clientele.

Upon hearing how poorly the overtly wealthy company treated his brother (a topic they also discussed in depth), Val demanded to help Maks start his own jewelry line. He would not take no for an answer. Years later, Maks had yet to stop thanking him.

Val gently nudged Maks’ side with the bent part of his elbow in an attempt to snap him out of his thoughts.

“Yes, we are, Madame Smirnoff. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“The pleasure is mine, gentlemen. For the purposes of this meeting, you may simply call me Karina, if you wish. It’s a lot less long-winded,” she chuckled softly.

It was then that Maks picked up on a definite lilt in Karina’s voice that sounded all too familiar to him.

“I certainly don’t mean to pry, Karina, but is that a Russian accent I hear?”

The twenty-something buyer awarded his inquisition with a dry smirk, “Perhaps, Mr. Chmerkovskiy, but we are not here to discuss my heritage, correct? I’m afraid appealing to my personal culture will get you nowhere this evening.”

Maks’ eyes widened marginally as Val tried to stifle a snicker.

He was correct, then; the usual methods would not work on this one.

“Gentlemen, we shall sit together and discuss what a partnership will mean for our respective companies; if such a partnership is truly beneficial to both parties, I might consider pressing for that two-year exclusivity contract you seem so set on. If not, well…you certainly wouldn’t be the first to be turned away. Now, please; enter,” Karina finished, gliding her hand through the air as if she was welcoming them inside her very own restaurant.

+

Maks walked up to his apartment complex, puffing out an elongated exhale through his nostrils.

Karina needed to mull over her decision for a bit; she would call one of the brothers tomorrow with her final answer.

Maks had hoped things went smoothly, but the more time he spent thinking about it, the more he began to dissect every bit of their conversation. Had he been too flattering at any point? She seemed turned off by his compliments. Had he and Val finally delivered their career-making pitch, or was it back to the metaphorical drawing board?

Even the sky overhead was smoothed over with gray clouds, completely smothering any glimpse of the sun he could have gotten. The sky was not sunny, nor was it stormy; he had never found such a perfect example of pathetic fallacy in his life and he may have sharply snorted out a laugh if he hadn’t been in such a funk.

Inside the building was no better. The lights in the lobby were bright and inviting, the chandeliers sparkling overhead adding a certain sense of elegance to the room. (Many times he had tried to determine the exact worth of the diamond chandeliers, his inner jewelry nerd scrabbling out to assess what most people would simply let out a low whistle at and continue on their merry way with.) The marble floors of the lobby had appeared entirely un-trodden upon, uncharacteristically free of scuff marks or stains from the dribbles of a child’s strawberry ice cream. This was a slight pity, too—He would ferociously deny it if ever accused, but he happened to enjoy witnessing his neighbors with children. He was fascinated with the way their lives were constantly intertwined, how the children and parents understood each other more implicitly than any other human on the planet. How the children stared, wide-eyed, as their parents informed them of an impromptu trip to the ice cream shop.

He mused about these things on his way to the elevator.

When he reached the row of elevators, however, he felt a strange pang of resentment. It was the most childish thing he’d thought about in a while, but the only thought that dame to mind was how the gold-encrusted elevator from that overtly elaborate restaurant betrayed his one wish.

Out of idiotic bitterness towards the insentient unit of transportation, he switched directions and headed for the stairway instead.

+

Maks reached the second floor, panting for breath, hand sliding against the railing as a support system for his body. Four flights of unbelievably steep stairs to get to the second floor of a building did not seem like the most architecturally-sound idea he’d heard.

He really needed to work out more, he realized, a bit too late.

His bones ached for him to rest, take a break from the unusual amount of exercise. His lungs were on fire, a slow burning pain that would encompass him completely if he traveled up the next two flights to his floor. Even his muscles were sore.

He couldn’t do another two flights to Floor 3. God, he was a weakling.

He shrugged to himself, grumbling as he shoved the entranceway to Floor 2 open. He took long, swift strides once he’d entered, apartment after apartment blurring together at his sides.

He would admit defeat and take the elevator although he’d hate every second of it.

Somewhere behind him, a woman locked in her room yelled out a frustrated explicative.

He stopped in his tracks, a slow smirk forming on his face at the all-too-familiar voice. It sounded like the girl from last night, the girl who interrupted his sealing the deal with one of the less influential buyers.

A conversation with her would certainly make his day feel less sucky.

He swiveled around, began searching for her golden room number.

“23A, 23A,” he repeated inside his head, scanning the tops of the wooden doors for the magic number.

He came to a halt as he discovered her door, wasting no time knocking repeatedly against the oak door.

Her door swung open at once, and there she was, her hair swept up into an unkempt ponytail whilst wearing pajamas three sizes too big.

“Oh, crap,” were the first words to escape her mouth, quickly followed by, “you didn’t think to tell me you were stopping by, neighbor?”

Maks let a flirtatious smile transform his face, “No need. You look perfect as is.”

The girl in front him pretended to gag, causing him to erupt into rumbling chuckles.

“If you don’t use any more terrible lines like that, you can c’mon in. I was just writing but, you know,” she offered, making the same hand motion Karina had made just hours before.

He nodded his head, the smallest of smiles on his face, and stepped inside Meryl’s apartment. The apartment smelled of vanilla and cinnamon, the kitchen fire alarm was going off (so he quickly walked over and shut it off, pausing to hungrily eye the tray of cinnamon buns on the cooling rack), the rooms were bright from sunshine streaming in through the open windows, and in the midst of it all he had noticed a laptop open to a Microsoft Word page sitting on baby-blue colored sofa,

Before she could stop him, he sprinted over and snatched the laptop, eyes flicking across the words on the screen.

“Hey,” she exclaimed in protest, tiny feet carrying her small frame over to him, “give me my novel back!”

Maks rose a dubious eyebrow back at her, clearly unimpressed. “Give me one good reason.”

“Because I’ll kick you out of my apartment. I invited you in, and I can get you out,” Meryl spoke again, her voice containing all the bravado it could possibly hold.

His eyebrows shot even further upwards, and he lowered his head as he issued her a challenge.

“Do it; I dare you. Kick me out.”

A wave of anger passed through her features as she yanked his arm forwards, slowly but steadily raising his body off the couch. “Gladly,” she huffed.

Maks was surprised at how much muscle the seemingly waif of a girl had as she began shoving his body towards the door. He whirled around to face her once he found himself getting closer to the exit; he didn’t want to leave just yet.

“This,” he gestured to the open page on screen, “needs more originality.”

Meryl abruptly halted her movements, as he had hoped she would, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Originality? That book is dripping with it!” She huffed indignantly, slight tones of incredulity entering her voice.

“No, it’s not. You think it is, because you wrote it, but I can already tell exactly who committed the crime from the dialogue based on this page.”

“Only a truly creative eye could comprehend the clues I left scattered throughout those pages. I call your bluff,” she snarked back.

“I’m a jewelry designer and founder of a jewelry company. I think it’s safe to say I’m creative in my endeavors,” he scoffed, raising the laptop over his head as she tried jumping for it.

“I think jewelry is stupid,” she remarked childishly, issuing him the same challenging look he had just given her.

“I think your character development is stupid,” retorted Maks, all the while a calm smile playing on his face.

“Really? Then, Maks, whodunnit?”

He paused, glancing back at the screen. Then he looked up confident girl in front of him. “It was the protagonist’s child,” he declared.

Meryl’s expression changed from confidence to shock immediately, and she shot him an icy glare the likes of which he had never previously seen.

“And how could you tell?” She gritted through her teeth, defeated.

Maks grinned in spite of the furious girl in front of him. “Sharing my worldly secrets of creativity requires a price. I’ll have a cinnamon roll,” he pointed inside the kitchen with one hand, “and a few hours of time in here.”

Meryl froze, considering her options. Clearly, the passion for her writing must have won out in her mind, because she emitted a defeated sigh. “Stay,” she frowned.

“But we’re not friends,” she was entirely too quick to add, “you’re just helping me improve my book and that’s all.”

He nodded an affirmative, inwardly grinning at her determination to remain as unconnected with him as possible. He would try his hardest to ensure such negative feelings wouldn’t last long.

“Whatever you say,” he winked, victoriously grabbing a cinnamon bun from the cooling rack in the kitchen and sinking his teeth into it.

He casually swaggered back to the sofa and sat down, taking another huge bite out of the cinnamon bun in his hand. He glanced up at her as she stood in doorway, her arms akimbo, and let out a loose laugh, patting the cushion next to him in a blatant signal to join him.

She paused a moment, then finally, she cautiously and slowly crossed the room and took a seat next to him.

“Now was that so bad?” He teased, nudging her shoulder with his.

Meryl rolled her eyes, pointing towards the computer screen. “Just help.”

Maks couldn’t help but smile, fully willing to oblige with her exasperated command.

“Gladly,” he smirked, throwing her own comeback back at her. She smacked his arm, the significance of his statement not lost on her.

“You’re an idiot.”

“One of the biggest, self-proclaimed and understanding,” he fired back.

“The things I do for my art,” she let out a martyred sigh in response, and he could only laugh.

Dance With Me (Part One)

rinharu dancers au based off of this.

Summary:

Rin’s a dancer at the prestigious Samezuka Dance Academy, obsessed with dancing and training and constantly overworking himself. Haru’s a street dancer, and he only dances free.

They meet, and things happen.

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