#(<- guy who has been in this airport for like 5 hours now)

[haologram]

hanging by a moment 🍻 j.ww [m]

synopsis: it's been a few years since you've been home for your birthday, and wonwoo can't wait to see you...right? genre: estranged childhood friends to lovers au. fluff, angst, suggestive themes. pairing: photographer!jeon wonwoo x fem!baker!reader | side pairing: kim mingyu x chou tzuyu word count: 15.8k rating: 18+. minors please do not interact. warnings: swearing, alcohol. food mentions. mentions of jealousy, breakups. wonwoo is a little bitter. pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc.) kissing. what to listen to: here is gone - the goo goo dolls ; over you - daughtry ; broken - lifehouse ; hanging by a moment - lifehouse ; long way home - 5 seconds of summer ; say yes - seventeen author's note: happiest birthday to my baby @wqnwoos ♡ i hope your birthday was full of wonderful memories and you had lots of good food, please continue staying healthy and i love you. [star dividers by @/cafekitsune here on tumblr!]

– LAST YEAR: GOYANGI SWEETS, HARLEM, NEW YORK.

"Since when do you celebrate Valentine's Day, Y/N?" Jeon Wonwoo's voice was staticky on the other end, and you rolled your eyes as you kept swiping icing on the red velvet cupcakes you'd been agonizing over for six days. Trying and dumping mixes, failed taste tests, a few burnt practice rounds all led up to this: you, up at two in the morning on FaceTime with Wonwoo, who was just now starting to finish up his work day.

You hadn't meant to move so far away, truly – or at least, not for this long. Your best friends were all back home, and the drastic time difference did work for some of them – but you rarely managed to catch Wonwoo. He would usually spend his time holed away in his bedroom or out with Kim Mingyu. However, since Mingyu moved in with his fiancée, Chou Tzuyu, three years ago – Wonwoo had the apartment to himself and you were his only company.

"Since when don't you, Jeon? No hot date for Desperation Day?"

"You watch too many movies, there's no such thing. Anyway, shouldn't you be sleeping? You open in, like, two hours." He was right, you did open in two hours.

There was just something comforting about hearing Wonwoo's voice so late in the night. It makes you feel warm, less alone.

And it's not like Wonwoo knew about your recent fight with your boyfriend.

It wasn't anything serious – just you telling him to get a fucking job, and him insisting that his job was rubbing your feet after a long day at work. It annoyed you so bad that you asked him to leave the apartment for the weekend. It's not that Wonwoo doesn't like Euijoo, but he certainly isn't his number one fan. You argue that you can't dislike someone you don't even know, but Wonwoo has made it clear that Euijoo is simply never going to be a part of his life if you're not present to make it happen. It's always been that way with Wonwoo, though. He quietly disapproved of most of the men you dated, even when you were back home – but he never made you feel bad about his perspective. He simply shared when you asked, and he didn't sugar coat it.

Before Euijoo, there was his clubmate, Hansol Chwe. Before Hansol, there was his teammate, Choi Seungcheol. Before Seungcheol, there was Mingyu. 

And every single one got a side-eyed glance, even his best friend.

Slowly, you stopped talking to Wonwoo about guys, because he always seemed to be right about you deserving more. To be frank, you weren’t too keen on not doing what you wanted to do, much less who. 

You and Wonwoo never breached that friendship line, and while you found solace in his irrevocable appreciation for you as a friend, you found it odd that around the time you began preparing for your relocation across the world, he floated away.

So much so that he hadn't even gone to the airport to say goodbye, or give you a hug. You hadn't seen Wonwoo in the weeks leading up to it after you told him you'd be leaving, and he always had an excuse as to why he couldn't call or hang out. You tried time and time again, only for him to eventually say he just didn't have time.

He did. You knew he did, because you saw him all over Mingyu and Tzuyu's Instagram stories. You saw him playing chess with Yoon Jeonghan. You saw him at the art museum with Xu Minghao.

You saw him soft launch a girl on his Instagram story the moment you boarded your plane. His story had been posted twenty minutes before, while you were getting your heart ripped out. You’d gone to New York with eyes full of tears, and not just because you were leaving behind everything you knew. 

Wonwoo was home, and you wouldn’t have him with you.

Nevertheless, Wonwoo was never…directly the reason behind your breakups – at least, to your understanding. You never toed the line of flirting with him and vice versa, you never made your friendship out to be something it wasn't.

You and Mingyu broke up because of school but stayed extremely close. You met his then-girlfriend,Tzuyu, six months into freshman year, and you were the first person Mingyu ever told that he wanted to marry her. You even helped Mingyu build a Pinterest wedding board when he would visit you and Wonwoo.

The others? Seungcheol made the mature decision and broke up with you because of jealousy issues on his part. Hansol broke up with you with an apology and nothing more, and you tried your best to take it in stride. However, taking things in stride is not your forte – which is how you ended up with Euijoo.

Hansol broke up with you at the airport the day you left for New York, the guilt taking over his features as your eyes widened and filled with tears. You had muttered that you understood, that it was fine – but the fourteen-hour flight from Seoul to New York was full of tears and sniffling. You're sure the woman next to you had been wondering if you were okay, but you're also almost positive that the fourteen-hour loop of 5SOS' Close As Strangers through your headphones spoke for itself.

You had met Euijoo at a bar a week after you landed in New York. Your apartment had long been ready and furnished, waiting for your arrival. You sullied it that same night by bringing him home, the aura of the apartment darkening the longer he stayed. And stayed, he did. It's like he had nowhere else to go, and you were far too nice about it, too. 

Hence, how he became your 'boyfriend' and how he 'moved in with you.' 

Bullshit; he went home to his mother's one-bedroom condo and picked up a dusty Playstation and a pillow he liked – that was his 'moving in.'

As for why Wonwoo doesn't like him, it's obvious – Euijoo is a loser. He has no goals, no sense of urgency, no whimsical nature – nothing like you. At least, that was what Wonwoo told you the first time you called him from New York…which was over six months since you left Seoul.

You wanted to believe there was a twinge of jealousy in Wonwoo’s voice when you told him about Euijoo. His brows furrowed, he sucked his teeth more times than you could count, and he refused to meet him when you offered to have him say hello.

You couldn't lie to yourself, you knew your relationship with Wonwoo was dwindling. Your calls were growing sparse, he didn’t tell you anything about his personal life, and you still hadn’t gone back home. To him, to your friends, to your parents. The two of you had grown up together, just slightly out of each other's circles. There were two or three people who were your 'friends of friends' that connected you, before Mingyu was the first official bridge between the two of you in the seventh grade. You went on to date Mingyu for three years during high school, before you wound up going to a different university than he did – but attended with Wonwoo, instead. You hated to admit it, but you knew that you clung to Wonwoo like gum did a shoe. You hid behind his broadening frame at fraternity parties, you would ask him over to your dorm (and later, your apartment) for game nights. You eventually started baking for him – cookies, cupcakes, the like. And then you met Seungcheol, on your way to Wonwoo's apartment. You slammed into him, painting his white t-shirt and shorts in pink icing – and you remembered stuttering over your words as you watched his brows furrow while he wiped icing off his stomach. He ended up clicking his tongue, nodding his head and shrugging.

"I guess you can call it avant garde, right?"

The two of you exchanged numbers, and you wound up being late to Wonwoo's place – but at that time, it didn't matter. Not when you scored a date with an older boy that had pouty lips and the thickest thighs you'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. Wonwoo had noticed you were giggly that night, but chose to brush it off when he walked behind you and saw you typing away to an unsaved number.

You and Seungcheol ended up dating for about a year, but the jealousy issues began before your relationship even started. He knew Wonwoo, and they were on the same soccer team – but something about the way Wonwoo spoke about you seemed to tick him off. No matter how often your lips were on his, your hands on his body, your body in his bed – Seungcheol's eyes always narrowed at the sight of Wonwoo floating around you for whatever reason, even if you initiated contact. 

You cheered at all his games, but Wonwoo was also there even if you wore one of Seungcheol's jerseys. You invited him to your bake sales, yet Wonwoo was always the one taste testing your recipes. You invited Seungcheol to your birthday dinner, and Wonwoo was naturally there.

Wonwoo recounting memories of you as a kid at dinner was what made Seungcheol make the decision to break up with you the following week. He paced around his apartment while you sat on his couch, rattling off all the ways that Wonwoo spoke about you that meant so much more than just a platonic love.

And you didn't comfort Seungcheol, or refute his thoughts. 

In fact, you denied them. You said there was no way Wonwoo saw you as anything more than his friend, you insisted that Wonwoo seeing you in the worst moments of your life was enough to make him feel icky about dating you.

It wasn't until Seungcheol crouched in front of you, holding your hands in his that you understood that he wasn't kidding. He told you that part of growing old together and being in love is seeing each other in those situations and still choosing to care and stay. He told you that Wonwoo holding your hair back as you threw up, Wonwoo knowing all your siblings' names and their favorite things, Wonwoo seeing you riddled with the flu and gross stomach bugs…

Wonwoo cared about you far more than he let on.

You left Seungcheol's apartment that night with a heavy heart and holding the stained white shirt from the first day you met him in your hand. It was still soaked in his cologne, and you remember crying yourself to sleep for two weeks straight.

Wonwoo had been there, and when you told him everything Seungcheol had said – he'd apologized.

He didn't deny anything. He didn't refute any of Seungcheol's feelings.

He apologized, for both making Seungcheol feel that way as well as being the straw that broke the camel's back. You hadn't known what to say, so you just offered to let him stay over and bake cookies with you.

He did, and the two of you gorged yourselves on white chocolate chip cookies while watching White Chicks. You cried again while he was there, and he wiped your tears and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He held you close as you pouted into his shirt, the soft scent of patchouli from his cologne settling into your skin as a blanket of comfort.

You also remember peering up at him through teary eyes, and his lips instinctively pressing to your hairline. His mumbled words never left your mind, either.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.”

You didn't date again for a bit after that, and Wonwoo made it a point to introduce you as his friend any time the two of you hung out. It made you feel odd, the way he forced the agenda that you were his friend and nothing more when you had no issue just going with the flow. You understood he didn't want a repeat of your relationship with Seungcheol, but it felt like he was forcing something more than just the label of your friendship.

People often asked if something had happened between the two of you — of which you always denied casually. If they asked Wonwoo, he would scoff, as if he were offended anyone would ever think you were more than just his friend. As if it was gross, or repulsive, to see you as a woman and not just the girl he grew up with. You met Hansol the next school year, a cheeky cinematography freshman that frequented your bake sales. Wonwoo met him there as well, and was the reason you and Hansol met formally. Apparently, Wonwoo and Hansol were both in the AV Club, where Wonwoo also met his first girlfriend: Lee Jaehee.

Lee Jaehee...  

She had also been quite the frequenter of your bake sales. She enjoyed your slutty brownies and the strawberry blondies you made, and the two of you had been so close to becoming friends when Wonwoo asked her out. He'd even asked you to bake something for her and you did it happily, free of charge. However, Wonwoo asking her out meant her finding out that you and him went back over two decades, and the same look that settled in Seungcheol's brows, settled in hers. It was painful, to see how she would tense at your presence at Wonwoo's soccer games, ones you'd always attended. It hurt your feelings to see her give you a quick smile before passing by your booths at the bake sales, not bothering to stop by for a nibble or a chat.

It pained you to know that Wonwoo missed your birthday dinner that year to spend the weekend with her, instead. You wound up going over to Seungcheol's apartment that night, and he comforted you as best as he could – by offering a drink and inviting his friends Jeonghan and Joshua over to entertain you. Despite it all, Seungcheol never really held any resentment towards you – but he did have zero problem telling you how blind you were.

You ignored it, too.

You didn’t like the odd feeling you got in your chest thinking about Wonwoo in any way that wasn’t platonic. You weren't stupid – Wonwoo was incredibly profound with a hint of goofy humor. He was smart, and tall…and handsome…God, he was so handsome, it made you want to bite your fist.

So the idea of his hands on you? His lips on yours, his bed being more than just a drunken sanctuary…

It was too much for you to handle. 

You started dating Hansol during the first semester of your senior year of college. He'd just become a sophomore, and everyone around him had been incredibly surprised that the senior sweetheart at the bake sales stopped making her incredibly soft peanut butter cookies. The reason? Hansol, and his allergy to peanuts.

No one said shit after that, only cooing at your boyfriend's blushy cheeks from your attention.

Your relationship with Hansol also came as a surprise to Wonwoo, and he found out in the strangest way – by walking into your apartment using his spare key and seeing the two of you getting frisky in the kitchen and covered in flour. You hadn't heard him come in, and didn't seem to sense his presence in the threshold of your kitchen. You don't know it, but Wonwoo has the image of you burned in his mind. The slope of your neck as Hansol kissed down it, the way your shirt was pushed up to reveal flour-covered handprints on your bare chest, the way your thighs were flexing around your boyfriend's waist… The sound of your whimper into Hansol's mouth.

He then made his presence known by coughing exaggeratedly, and you and Hansol almost slipped. Wonwoo rolled his eyes as Hansol yanked your shirt back into place, clearing his throat and greeting Wonwoo.

"How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know that there is no way eating flour out of each other's mouths is sexy." Wonwoo had come over to tell you that he and Jaehee broke up, and he did tell you – but on his way out of your apartment. You could barely hear him as the door closed, but you were also trying to finish what you and your boyfriend started in the kitchen — so you filed it to the back of your mind as you invited Hansol to join you in the shower.

It wasn't until after graduation that you decided to open a pastry shop. However, you were unsure that your at-home learning was enough to satisfy a gaggle of clientele – and decided to start applying to pastry schools. You’d already obtained a business degree, which made the idea only cement further in your head. Hansol had been incredibly supportive, even going as far as sending you applications and fee waivers while he was in class and you were driving around Seoul with Wonwoo looking for work for the time being.

Then you got a letter back from a pastry school in New York City, and Hansol was ecstatic. He paid for your flight and even took a week off school to go visit it with you. He wound up setting up meetings with realtors so you could get an apartment, and the two of you even went as far as looking at empty lease spaces where you could open a business.

You accepted the offer, and the school covered your flight back to Seoul and then back to New York City. Your parents covered your first year of rent at an apartment in SoHo, after you sent back videos of you spinning in the SeaGlass Carousel and having dinner at Shuka.

However, something changed when you went back to Seoul to pack your things. You also realized you had done all of this without even mentioning it to Wonwoo, who seemed slightly distant when you finally met him for dinner at his place after packing up your apartment. Mingyu and Tzuyu had also been there. Hansol also seemed distant for a few days, not bothering to answer your messages or calls. You showed up at his apartment, only for Seungkwan to answer the door with a knowing look and tell you he wasn't home. You remember scowling, and pushing past Seungkwan to see Hansol asleep in his bedroom, tucked away with a Star Wars blanket you'd bought him for his birthday. 

You picked a fight, and Hansol wasn’t having it — said he wasn’t in the right headspace to have this conversation, and asked to rain check it for a better time. You argued there was no better time than the present, and his swollen face (whether from tears or sleep, you were unsure) was enough to make you back off for the time being. He quietly asked you to join him in his bed, and you reluctantly kicked your shoes off and did just that.

He promised he still cared, and promised he still loved you, but it felt different, the way he held you. Like a last hurrah, like a ‘goodbye’ and not a ‘see you later.’ Like things were going to end and there was nothing you could do to change his mind.

You couldn't say you were surprised that Hansol broke up with you a month later, but you were certainly hurt. Wonwoo was also nowhere to be reached at this point, your calls going straight to voicemail and your texts going unread. You assumed he'd finally landed a gig, but it was still unlike him to not respond to you, of all people.

At least, you thought that was what had happened, until you saw his Instagram story.

You stopped wondering where he'd been after that.

It had been four years since then. You hadn't gone back to Seoul once, not even for Christmas or when your parents begged you back. You called for birthdays, you sent gifts out two months in advance. You sent photos of your shop, of your apartment, of you and Euijoo.

Your parents didn't really care about the ones Euijoo was in.

You finally opened your pastry shop in the middle of Harlem – two years after arriving in New York, tweaking your recipes to cater to the local clientele. Your shop was always full of customers and you loved what you did – but most of all, the people loved you. They loved seeing how easily you won people over, how you celebrated your accomplishments by putting even more effort into your business, how your employees cared about you and your shop.

You truly became an essential part of some people's lives – Ms. Julianna who came in every morning for a chocolate éclair; Mr. Cortéz came in every Saturday morning for a box of mixed empanadas and one butterscotch cupcake for his granddaughter, Elisa; Mrs. Stegenga sliding in every Tuesday for a strawberry tart and a cup of unsweetened whipped cream for her dog, Harley. 

Euijoo came in everyday as well, but not for a pastry – but to bug you. You'd kicked him out a few times, shoving a warm cinnamon twist into his mouth or an iced matcha with cheese foam into his hand – but he always floated back.

Which was odd, since he didn't have a car and it took thirty minutes to get from your apartment in SoHo to your shop in Harlem. Where he was getting the money for the taxi, or to load his Metrocard was beyond you – the son of a bitch didn't lift a finger.

Now, you're here. You're still at your shop, while Euijoo is likely sprawled out on your king-sized bed, with his outside clothes still on. You're grimacing to yourself as you smooth icing out on one of the cupcakes, your brow furrowed as you hear Wonwoo sigh.

"I miss you." And just as fast as it was said, he moved on.

"Since you're not going to sleep, how was your birthday? I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to call, I've been slammed with projects. Tzuyu booked me for engagement photos, isn't that crazy?" Much like your friends missed out on your life, you missed out on theirs. Mingyu and Tzuyu opened a restaurant in the middle of Seoul, and you missed it. Mingyu and Tzuyu had their first daughter, and you missed it. Mingyu and Tzuyu got engaged, and you missed it. You wouldn't be surprised if you missed their wedding, too.

Wonwoo? He opened a photography studio. He did weddings, all sorts of parties, maternity shoots. He did boudoir shoots for a bit, before handing them over to his business partner, Saerom. She had been introduced to Wonwoo through a few contacts at your old university, and he took her on as an apprentice. She now accompanies him to many shoots and gigs, usually taking the reins if Wonwoo loses his patience or gets too overwhelmed.

You'd seen his photos displayed at a few galleries after you left for New York. Your mother went and took pictures of his exhibits, his shy smile hidden behind flutes of champagne. You congratulated him via text, only to receive a thumbs up in response and nothing more.

"Yeah, that's crazy. Listen, Woo, I'm gonna try and focus on this. I'll call you later, yeah?" You sighed, frustration evident in your voice. You watched as Wonwoo struggled not to roll his eyes as he tongued his cheek, before nodding.

"Sure thing. Get some rest."

He hung up before you could respond, and you looked at the FaceTime log. Eight missed calls from Wonwoo over the last few days, three missed calls from Tzuyu and two from Mingyu.

Your friends missed you, across the world. You were missing every precious moment of theirs.

And instead, you were here. Frosting cupcakes at almost three in the morning, while your do-nothing boyfriend enjoyed the warmth of your apartment. Frosting cupcakes, while your parents begged you to come home for a few days at the very least.

The money here was good. It always had been, and you'd built such a good connection with your clientele and you couldn't imagine abandoning it all because you were homesick.

But you missed home. You missed your mother's hearty soups, you missed your father serving you dinner instead of you serving Euijoo after a long day of doing that for strangers. You missed Tzuyu's light laughter, Mingyu's warm embraces…

Wonwoo. God, you missed Wonwoo.

You remember sending him a photo of your storefront as the sign was finalized, the baby blue calling to the eyes amongst the red brick.

Msg To: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] look at it! goyangi sweets is officially in business! (read: 1:09PM)

Msg From: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] goyangi?

Msg To: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] what the fuck are you doing awake? it's 3am in seoul [11/09] yeah, goyangi. i miss you (read: 1:10PM)

He hadn't answered after that.

Sighing, you clicked your tongue and leaned against your stainless steel counter. You grabbed a cupcake off the cooling rack, prying the warm dessert in half and smearing a bit of frosting on the inside, shoving it into your mouth. You closed your eyes as you chewed, letting your shoulders sag at the sweet treat that made all the stress worth it.

It was worth it, right? The money and the love from the locals, the feeling of physical success…it was enough. It was worth the lonely nights you yearned for 

You wiped your hands, moving to the front of the shop and dragging the metal divider down to block the view of outsiders. You weren't opening the shop today, no. You're going to go home, and kick Euijoo out of your bed and sleep.

That's all you need. Some sleep.

– SOPHOMORE YEAR: SEOUL HAWKS VS YONSEI EAGLES, SEMIFINALS.

"We have No. 08, Choi Seungcheol approaching the goal area for the freekick. Choi is the team captain for the SNU Hawks, and the only PreMed student on the team. He has also scored fifty-six percent of all game-winning goals this season, and we're hoping this kick gets them into the Championship bracket."

You were on the edge of your seat, your frame being swallowed by one of Seungcheol's jerseys. You were alone in the stands for the first time – Mingyu and Tzuyu were stuck at the concessions stand. Unfortunately, you were also the only person on this side of the field wearing an SNU jersey, and trying not to tweak out as you listened to Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin talk about your boyfriend over the PA.

"Oh, oh, looks like Choi is not taking the freekick after all?" Jimin's voice was clear, and the crowd collectively sighed as Seungcheol analyzed the players and shook his head.

You were barely able to sit down as you watched him jog over to his referee, making motions with his hands and arms when you saw Wonwoo crossing the field in a sprint. He slid next to Seungcheol, who pulled him closer into the circle and kept talking. Wonwoo's brows were furrowed as he nodded, breathing heavily before wiping his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. "It seems Choi has nominated No.17, Jeon Wonwoo, to take the freekick instead. Jeon is the second in command, dedicating two years of his college career to this team. He's scored sixteen percent of the game-winning goals this season, opting to stay in the shadows." You didn't like that.

"Alright, alright…it seems we're lining up…Eagles are looking fine this year, aren't they?" "Jeon, that's inappropriate." "What, man? You're going to look at Kim Yugyeom and say I'm wrong?" "Jungkook, they can hear you."

"Hey, shit. Here's your soda." Tzuyu slides in next to you, and you don't unglue your eyes from the field as you reach and fumble for your drink. The straw poked your hand as Mingyu slid past you, making you scowl as you swatted his leg for him to sit down.

"Wonwoo's taking the kick? I thought it was going to be Cheol." Mingyu muttered, taking a bite from his hot dog. You nodded, watching as Wonwoo shook his head while still talking to Seungcheol. His hands were moving rapidly, likely explaining why Wonwoo didn't want to make the kick. Your boyfriend only gave Wonwoo a stern look, and you could make out the words falling from his lips.

"I believe in you. Kick the fucking ball."

You watched as the Eagles made their wall, their goalie shaking his legs out. Kwon Soonyoung, you remembered – you'd met him at a frat party at Yonsei a few weeks back. Seungcheol had gone with you, making friends with the enemy (more like scoping out his competition. Sneaky bitch.) "C'mon, Woo." You mumbled to yourself, grabbing Tzuyu's hand for support as she shoved a nacho into her mouth. You were too amped up to eat, this kick was the one that would settle the score – and it was all on Wonwoo.

You knew Seungcheol wouldn't put anyone he didn't trust on this sort of line. Yeah, he had an issue with how close you and Wonwoo were, but his team was important to him – he'd built this one on his own, handpicked, the best of the best. You trusted Seungcheol knew what he was doing, and that he wouldn't set up Wonwoo for failure…

…And he didn't, as you watched Wonwoo's kick bounce off the goalpost and straight into the net – just barely missing Soonyoung's fingertips.

"THE HAWKS ARE GOING TO THE CHAMPIONSHIPS!"

You cheered happily, the only one besides Mingyu and Tzuyu – and earned the nastiest of glares from Yonsei students as you ran down the steps of the bleachers. Seungcheol was jumping with his arms around Wonwoo and another player, Wen Junhui, when you pushed past them to get to your friend.

"Wonwoo! That was fucking amazing!"

He just shook his head, aiming the water bottle into his mouth as he gestured towards Seungcheol.

"That's all Cheol's idea. Mastermind behind it all." You whipped around to see your grinning boyfriend being shaken by Mingyu, trying to pry himself from your friend's embrace as you felt the cold splash of the water cooler being poured on Wonwoo. It went down your back as well, making you squeal as you jumped out of the way. Seungcheol reached his arm out to you, and you grabbed his hand as his teammates picked a soaked Wonwoo up and onto their shoulders.

"We'll meet you at the parking lot!" Mingyu yelled as he and Tzuyu trailed after them, and Seungcheol only gave a thumbs up. It was customary that the entire team went to dinner together, usually still in their stinky and sweaty jerseys but Seungcheol had long refused to let the team be represented that way. Everyone went home to get themselves together, then he footed the bill.

"Cheol, that was great! You're going to the championships!" Your smile was hurting your cheeks as he nodded, pulling you into his chest. He was sweaty and overwhelmingly warm, but you didn't care as he plucked the fabric of your wet shirt off your back in greeting.

"You know…you could've greeted me first." "Oh, not this again! Seungcheol, Wonwoo is just my friend." "I know he is, Y/N." Seungcheol said pointedly, but you felt scrutinized under his arched brow. You felt your lip jut out into a pout, and he sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"C'mon, you can come over to mine and change." He swept your hair back over your shoulders, his fingers brushing your neck. You frowned, your hands floating to his wrists as he shook his head.

"Tell me you love me, Cheol." "I love you, honey. Come on."

It wasn't a lie. Seungcheol did love you, but it'd slightly become less of a romantic love as the months pressed on. He couldn't get over the odd feeling in his stomach when he saw Wonwoo's soft gestures towards you, the way Wonwoo served your drinks at the parties you went to, the way Wonwoo behind a camera made you smile easily – far easier than necessary for someone that was just your friend.

He hated how you didn't see it, the way Wonwoo was in love with you. He could see it, and he knew it was the truth: Wonwoo would visibly tense at the sound of your name. Seungcheol remembers when Junhui asked him his plans last week, and how Wonwoo grimaced when Seungcheol said he was taking you on a date night.

He didn't like feeling this way. He didn't like feeling like his jealousy was festering in the pit of his stomach while you saw it as nothing more than just friendly banter. Granted – Wonwoo never flirted with you, never touched you inappropriately, he never crossed the line.

But the soft compliments he gave you? The gentle swipe of your hair off your face and the adjustment of your necklaces?

The way he calmly called your name, or sweetheart from across the room…

And you listened.

It wasn't your fault. Seungcheol knew it wasn't, and he felt like a fool to keep feeling so much resentment towards Wonwoo – especially when Wonwoo also made it strictly known that everything he felt was platonic.

It just didn't feel that way.

"I love you, Cheol." "I know, honey. Now…let's get dinner?"

– FIVE YEARS AGO: INCHEON AIRPORT TO LAGUARDIA, NEW YORK.

"I'm sorry."

You were standing in the middle of Incheon Airport, your duffle bag tucked over your shoulder when Hansol dropped the bomb.

"Sorry?" You whispered, your voice shaky as the reality of his words sank in.

It'd been a few days since you packed your last box and dropped it off at your parents' house. Hansol had gone with you, warmly greeting your parents and sitting in your living room, your mother showing him baby photos. You remember feeling your heart race at how Hansol traced your face in the pictures, before glancing up at you.

The wild beating in your chest hadn't been positive, and there was a glint of knowing in Hansol's eyes. The relationship was over, it was just a matter of who pulled the plug, and when. It had been a month or so since you settled everything in New York, and a month since either of you spoke about it. You had gone to his apartment and looked to pick a fight – but the fight never happened. He pulled you into him, and you had snuggled in his bed. You kissed, you watched movies…

But it was a goodbye and you denied it. In your heart, in your mind, you wanted to deny it. It was a good thing, wasn't it? To be in New York and know that Hansol had connections there? His sister lived there. If he wanted…if he wanted, he could come with you. Transfer to a university in New York, and it would be worth it. To study in a place he once called home, to breathe in the inspiration of the city that has been the background of hundreds of films, the breeding ground of insane creativity? And if not…what about you? Were you enough to want to move in with? Did he see a future with you where things were more than just college sweethearts who stayed over at each other's apartments more than four times a week? Did he understand who you were, to the depths – the need to love, because you were overflowing with it?

Did he see a future where you were more than just attached at the hip with Wonwoo?

The truth was, he did. He saw it all with you – the apartment, the marriage, hell, even a kid or two. He saw all of it, a ring and a career alongside you and to see all your hopes and aspirations grow into something tangible. He saw it.

You didn't.

"I know it's shitty of m-me to do this, especially n-now." He held back his tears, but his voice shook with bitten back sobs anyway. "But I can't. I c-can't do long distance."

Somehow, he knew you knew that wasn't the real reason. He knew, from the way the back of your eyes filled with hurt and betrayal, the grip on your duffle making the strap burrow into your hand. The way you bounced on your toes, once, twice – before nodding. A singular tear rolled down your face.

"It's okay. I understand." Your voice had been surprisingly steady as he hesitated, before reaching his arms out. You stepped into them, and somehow felt the weight off your shoulders as he hugged you tightly. "I'll miss you, Sol." "I miss you already, babe. Please call me when you land, okay? I'll be up, I swear."

You had called him when you landed. He'd arranged to have a car pick you up and take you to your new apartment. He finally cried on the phone, and you sobbed with him as you made your bed and settled in.

After six hours of reminiscing and crying on the phone, you hung up for what you thought would be the last time. He wished you good luck, and to call him whenever you wanted. And God, you wanted to.

But just like Wonwoo, you left it alone. Six months, not a single word.

– PRESENT: LAGUARDIA AIRPORT TO JEON WONWOO, HOME.

You looked into the empty space you used to call your second home. Gone were the calming periwinkle walls, the gold-detailed pastry cases. Gone were your cherry wood bar stools, the wicker recliners in the corner, the play areas for children. 

Your shop was gone, and you held the keys in your hand one last time.

"End of an era, huh? Where are you going to go now?" Mr. Cortéz was next to you, holding his granddaughter on his hip as you sighed.

"I'm not sure. I'm going to miss Harlem, but I know that…this isn't home." You said sheepishly, running a hand through your hair. He nodded, patting your shoulder with a sympathetic smile.

"We're going to miss you here, mija. You will always have a place in Harlem with us." To say you wanted to cry was an understatement, but you just blinked the tears back as you allowed him and his granddaughter to envelope you into an embrace. "I left my cupcake recipe with your wife, so you can always make them for Elisa. I'm going to miss you."

"Be safe, okay? Don't give up on your dreams." He patted your back softly, and you held back a sniffle as your leasing agent gave you a soft smile. Goodbyes were never something you were good at, but you couldn't say anything more as you handed your keys back to the leasing agent and turned to your packed car. You grimaced at the sight of Euijoo's neck pillow still in your passenger seat, and you reached in through the window to grab it and shoved it in the trash.

You sighed, glancing up at your empty shop once more before slipping into the driver's seat, gripping the glittery wheel cover. You blinked once, twice, before shoving your key in the ignition and pulling out of your parking spot. 

You truly had no idea if this was the right decision. In your mind, you weren't sure.

But your heart?

You broke up with Euijoo a few months ago, and kicked him out of your apartment. You slowly started selling everything in the apartment, only packing your essentials and finding a wholesale thrift to take all your furniture from the pastry shop. You closed the shop officially a week ago, and did a mass bake sale to finish all your products. 

You went back and forth to Seoul without telling anyone, finding a cozy apartment in Gangnam and meeting with a leasing agent there to open a shop. Your parents long stopped asking you to come home, but you couldn't help and feel giddy as you walked around the city – gorging yourself on hot street food and buying furniture for your new apartment without interference.

Now? You just had to board your plane. You'd sold your car to Euijoo's brother, Hyunjin, and he was waiting at the airport to take it once you left. You had zero plans of telling anyone anything, and you'd be landing in Seoul the day before your birthday. You could catch up on any sleep, and then visit Mingyu and Tzuyu's restaurant. Maybe get dinner there, maybe catch up with the couple…

Maybe surprise Wonwoo.

Yeah, that sounds like the plan.

"Nice change of scenery, finally took a vacation?" Wonwoo's voice is once more staticky through FaceTime, and you've got him propped up in your new bathroom. You hadn't said anything about leaving New York yet, but you shrugged as you carefully lined your lips.

"Mhm, could say that. Finally get to do shit without Euijoo weighing me down. What are your plans tonight? Going to Gyu's?" You ask nonchalantly, but you can feel your hands trembling as you put down your lipliner. If Wonwoo notices, he doesn't say anything.

"Actually, I'm going to swing by the restaurant in a bit. We always call you for your birthday, you know, so it's funny you called me first." He nods lightly, but you know Wonwoo too well to think he's not even slightly suspicious. "Wanted to beat you to it, I guess. I feel alone here a bit, the resort is super nice but I'm so…ugh, I don't know. I might go out for a beer, see what kind of trouble I can get myself into." You wiggle your brows in the camera, and Wonwoo snorts. He swings his keys in front of him, shaking his head as he speaks.

"Not too much trouble, I hope. Have you talked to your parents yet? I know your mom misses you, you've been even more MIA since you and Euijoo broke up. I commend it, don't get me wrong, but still. Where the hell have you been?" "Healing." You shrug, smushing your cheek with the palm of your hand. Wonwoo doesn't look like he believes you, but you only give him a soft smile. He tries to bite his back, tonguing his cheek as he huffs. 

"You look happier. I like that." "I feel happier, Woo." It's not a lie. You feel so much lighter being back in Seoul, knowing that your family and friends are no more than a train ride away.

You pretend to check your watch, sucking your teeth.

"Shit, I'm going to miss my dinner reservation. Will you still call me when you get to the restaurant? I miss you guys." You pout, tucking your hair behind your ears as Wonwoo nods.

"Yeah, no worries. Be safe, and don't get too tipsy. I can't hold your hair when you throw up from all the way over here, you know." He scolds, making you giggle.

"Got it. I'll see you, yeah?" You nod, and he does the same.

"See you, sweetheart." The call goes dead as your heart registers the pet name, but you immediately rustle out of the bathroom to catch a taxi. You're wearing a black crew neck over a nice pair of jeans, paired with your favorite dirty Chucks in forest green. You grab your winter coat off the hook by the door, tugging it on and shoving your phone in your pocket. Checking the coat pockets for your wallet and keys, you find both in the left pocket and practically slam out of your apartment.

Not having been to Mingyu and Tzuyu's restaurant definitely proved navigating there to be difficult. You got out a block away from the actual spot, tugging a face mask over your face and pulling the hood of your coat over your hair. You take a deep breath, taking a step forward when you see a tall man step out of a taxi, a black coat covering broad shoulders. Thick frames sit on his nose, the lower half of his face covered by a black mask. You squint your eyes to see closer as he hands the driver a wad of cash, and the crinkle of his nose proves it's exactly who you're looking for.

Jeon Wonwoo.

You stay rooted in your spot as he walks coolly into the restaurant, holding the door open for a woman and her daughter to slip out. The daughter's eyes widen as he moves past them, her cheeks flushing as her mother rushes her off the sidewalk. What a funny thing, to see someone else experience the same things you do.

Over the year that you decided to leave New York, you spoke to Hansol and Seungcheol a lot – even after promising 'this is the last call,' you called them again and again. As it turns out, he too felt that Wonwoo was a bigger part of your life than he could ever be, but it didn't hit him until he found out Wonwoo had missed every single AV Club meeting in the two weeks following him finding out that the two of you were dating. Wonwoo didn't speak to Hansol directly for over a month, until Hansol confronted him and got the answers he was looking for.

Wonwoo had long been in love with you, and had gone over to your apartment initially to, yes, tell you he'd broken up with Jaehee; but he also went over there to confess to you. He'd brought over a bouquet of pink camellias, but left them on the porch in case he caught you at a bad time – and Hansol later found out he threw them away on his way out of your apartment complex.

At first, Hansol had nothing to say on the matter. You were his girlfriend — but he couldn’t lie to himself, the guilt of knowing Wonwoo had been in love with you for so long was starting to eat away at him. With a reluctant heart, he ended things; only for Wonwoo’s dumbass to not make a move and let you slip away to New York.

You'd also heard from Seungcheol and Hansol that he hadn't kept a girlfriend around for too long since – nothing to write home about. He didn't introduce any of them to anyone, just soft launched here and there on social media but mostly kept the "situationships" to himself. 

The only hope you had in your belly was that your plan would go, well, according to plan. You'd ordered a bouquet of flowers, pink camellias, to be delivered to Wonwoo at the restaurant after you arrived. After that…okay you didn't plan anything after that, but spontaneity is cool, right?

You wipe your palms on your coat, taking a deep breath as you walk towards the door. Yanking it open, you hear the doorbell alert the people inside – only to see a few people scattered around. Mingyu is wiping a glass down behind the bar and Tzuyu is sitting on a barstool next to Wonwoo, her left hand sitting atop her belly.

With a huge rock on her ring finger. "Welcome to Hana's! Have a seat anywhere, we'll be right with you!" Her voice is just as warm as ever, and you find yourself forcing your feet to move, ducking your head as you head towards the back of the restaurant. You see Mingyu lean over to grab a bottle off the wall, and you slide into one of the booths where you're out of sight but they're not.

You can hear them start to talk about you, Mingyu pouring Wonwoo a beer and sliding it across the bar.

"Has Y/N spoken to either of you?" Tzuyu asks, and Wonwoo clicks his tongue.

"Yeah, she called me earlier. It was a little odd, considering we always call her. But it's her birthday, I'm not going to badger her for answers. Plus, she's on vacation for once. Can't complain." He shrugs, and Mingyu laughs softly.

"Vacation? Where? Did she say?" "I didn't ask." Wonwoo replies, and Tzuyu snorts. "You'd be a horrible spy, Jeon. Here, I'm going to call her. She's gotten better at answering."  You watch Tzuyu grab her phone off the table, and quickly lower your ringer as far as it will go. She faces the phone towards all of them, and Wonwoo looks unamused as you feel your phone start vibrating in your hand. 

You deny the call, quickly texting her that you're driving to dinner and will call her when you get to the restaurant. A lie, and you can see her frown sadly next to Wonwoo. She puts her phone down, sliding off the bar stool – likely on her way to you.

"Gonna take this order, I'll be right back." She grabs the notepad off the bar, but the ringing of the doorbell grabs her attention. A delivery man with a huge bouquet of flowers slips in, holding the baby blue gift card in his hand.

"For Jeon Wonwoo? Is there a Jeon Wonwoo here?" Wonwoo's eyes go wide, before he clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. That's me, thank you. Does it say who they're from?" The delivery man hands him the card, bidding everyone a good night.

"Well?" Mingyu leans over as Wonwoo puts the flowers down on the bar and flips the card open. His eyes dart back and forth as he reads it, before handing it to Mingyu, who reads it out loud while Wonwoo thumbs the petals.

To Wonwoo,

Thank you for always being someone I can count on, even when I'm halfway across the world. Thank you for looking out for me, and for loving me more than you let on.

Always yours, Y/N.

P.S. Don't forget to call me back!

"Huh." Mingyu clicks his tongue, and Tzuyu grabs the card and scans it. She sighs, holding it to her chest.

"Camellias…" Wonwoo pouts, before his eyes narrow. "They're her favorite. It's like she's trying to tell me something." "Okay, mind reader. What could she possibly have to say that isn't already in the card?" Tzuyu waves it around, and you take it as your chance to slide out of the booth, hands in your pockets. You walk towards them quietly as Mingyu and Tzuyu begin to theorize, and neither of them look your way as you slide into the barstool diagonal to Wonwoo's.

"She probably wants to know what a girl's gotta do to get some service around here." You mumble, and Tzuyu flushes, about to apologize when you carefully slip your mask off.

"But I guess you can treat me, since it is my birthday." You shrug, Mingyu's eyes widening before he covers his face and sinks to the ground behind the bar. Tzuyu scoffs out a laugh, her eyes filling with tears as she pulls your hood off your head, her hands smoothing your hair down gently.

"You're home." She whispers, her belly getting in the way as she pulls you into her. You feel your eyes burn with tears as she buries her face in your hair, your hand moving to pat her back. "I am, I missed you guys." You murmur, and Mingyu hops over the bar to also crush you in his embrace. You can barely see out of your teary eyes, but you can see Wonwoo's cheeks flushed almost as pink as the flowers, the shock in his demeanor evident but he just clears his throat and looks away.

"How long are you here for? A week? A month? Please say a month, you have to meet our kids." Mingyu begs into your hair, and you can barely conjure words as Wonwoo stays silent. "Shit, I'll even buy you a new ticket back to New York if you stay for two months." You don't respond, waiting for the couple to pull away. You wiggle lightly, making them both move back as you wipe your eyes. "I'm here for good. I have a new place in Gangnam, and I'm opening a shop a few blocks from here. I'm…I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you guys." You gesture towards Wonwoo as well, who only tongues his cheek before running the tips of his fingers around the rim of his beer. He nods, "Yeah. Welcome home, sweetheart." "You're not even going to hug me? Some friend you are." You try to joke, and Wonwoo scoffs,before reluctantly sliding off his stool. Tzuyu says something about getting you dinner, skirting out of the way. It seems Mingyu also gets the hint, moving away with the promise of a nice beer.

You're overwhelmed by the same patchouli scent on Wonwoo’s clothes, sweetened with notes of peach as he wraps his arms around your waist. Your own wrap around his shoulders, and you can feel your heart thundering in your chest as he breathes you in softly. He nestles his head next to yours, and his breath is warm against your ear as he speaks.

"I've missed you so much, Y/N." He mumbles, and you feel his arms tighten slightly, as if you're going to slip away. "We need to have a serious conversation, though, because I am mad at you."

You scoff slightly, trying to hide your tears as you bury your face in his neck. He rubs your back gently, before pulling away and wiping your eyes carefully. "Later." You only nod, watching Tzuyu carefully walk over with a bowl of hot tofu stew, and Mingyu slides a pint glass across the bar for you.

You spend the next three hours consoling an emotional Tzuyu, and telling Mingyu all about the delicious dishes you tried in New York. He jests that the restaurant would love a pastry chef if you're willing to share your recipes, and you only snort and turn him down softly. You tell them all about Euijoo, only earning scoffs and huffs from the couple as Wonwoo nurses his beer silently. 

You tell them about your shop in Harlem, and how it was actually a call with Wonwoo last year that made you realize that you were unhappy – which made his cheeks flush, but he remained quiet, only nodding along. Tzuyu squeezes his shoulder, and he just nibbles on his lip as you keep talking about all the regulars you had. You tell them about your SoHo apartment and how you often visited the Seaglass Carousel if you were feeling stressed. You promised to take them there someday, if they ever wanted to see what your life was like when you were gone.

They fill you in about their own lives – planning their wedding, having their second daughter in a few weeks. They talk about their oldest, Eunha, and how she's growing up to be just like Mingyu. You hold back tears as they eagerly talk about their budding family and their beautiful relationship, often sharing looks full of adoration and admiration for one another as they spoke. You listen carefully, and Tzuyu even asks if, since you're back, you'd like to be a bridesmaid.

You agree, when Mingyu finally brings out a thick slice of his infamous chocolate cake – one that actually got you into baking but you'd never admit it. At least, not to him.

"Happy Birthday, Y/N! We're so glad you're home, seriously. It's been so dull without you." Tzuyu cheers, allowing Mingyu to light the pink candle in the middle of the slice. You smile softly, tucking your hair behind your ears as they sing to you softly – Wonwoo mouthing along from his stool.

"Make a wish." Mingyu holds it up to you, and you can't help but realize that he's a father now. Tzuyu is a mother, and they have their whole lives figured out. They're so gentle, loving, passionate…and you're still trying to figure yourself out.

Ah, but comparison is the thief of joy.

You close your eyes, sighing before conjuring your wish in your mind. 

You don't notice when Wonwoo takes a quick photo, the flash hidden by Tzuyu's shoulder.

You blow out the candle quietly, opening your eyes to see the couple clapping softly. Tapping the plate, you clear your throat.

"Can I get this in a box? I have some things I need to sort out before the night ends."

Mingyu and Tzuyu share a look, before she glances over her shoulder. You nod as she looks back at you, and she smiles.

"Well, we'll see you more often, right? You have to meet Eunha, and the baby." 

"Absolutely." And you mean it. You mean it as Mingyu boxes up your slice of cake, sealing it into a brown paper bag for you. You inch closer and closer to Wonwoo as the goodbyes become extensive, before splaying your hand across his back. He glances over his shoulder, a jump in his brows as if to say, ready to go?

You bid Mingyu and Tzuyu a good night, and you promise them you'll even try to come by in the morning for Mingyu's mother's oxtail soup. Mingyu says he can't promise there will be any up by the time you come by, but you make Tzuyu promise to save you a bowl. She does.

"When did you sell the shop?" Wonwoo asks as the two of you step out into the street, the cold air making his breath visible as he speaks. "And why didn't you tell me?" You look at the flowers in his arms, how he holds them like a baby.

"I was worried you'd be upset that I gave up." You murmur as the two of you begin to walk seemingly with no direction, earning a sigh from Wonwoo.

“I’m upset that you didn’t even think to tell me anything. I’m supposed to be your friend. One of your best friends, if I’m not mistaken. You move across the world and suddenly that doesn’t matter anymore?”

“Wonwoo, it’s not like that. I just…I should know what I want out of life. I should know where my heart calls home, but it’s only been a person. I’m not sure if the place matters.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair as Wonwoo flags down a taxi.

“Your place or mine?” He mutters, opening the door for you to slide in.

“Yours.” You mumble back, giving the driver a quick smile as Wonwoo shuts the door. He rattles off his address — and it’s the same building as yours.

“…I live there, too.” You whisper, and he clicks his tongue.

“Good to know.” He shrugs, before reaching over and tugging your seat belt on. He clicks in place, choosing to stay silent as the taxi weaves through the busy roads. You want to say something, and you attempt to several times — but he just shakes his head, pressing a finger to his lips as if to say wait.

And wait, you did.

You let him pay the taxi driver and help you out of the taxi. You let him lead you into the lobby, the security guard giving the both of you a curt nod as you duck into the elevator.

Wonwoo only lives a few doors down from you.

“Interesting.” You murmur to yourself. It’s like I’ll always find my way back to you.

He unlocked his door, holding it open for you to slip through. You did, silently toeing your shoes off in his foyer before stepping into his living room. Shrugging your coat off, you watch him flick the lights on.

Everything is so him. From stacked consoles on the side of his television, to a bookcase full of acoustic guitar records and a few thick books. A few of his cameras are strewn on his kitchen table, popped open and film exposed. His record player sits in front of his window, the blinds and curtains pushed open and the window slightly ajar to circulate the air. There is a mug on his coffee table, half full of what you assume to be green tea.

It smells like patchouli, peaches, and home.

His hand takes the bag from you, and he walks past you to place the flowers and the cake on his kitchen counter. He closes his eyes as he tugs his coat off, and you avert your eyes from his form-fitting shirt — opting to turn around and hang your coat on the rack by the door.

“Are you actually here for good? Or was that just something you said to appease Mingyu and Tzuyu?” He mutters, thumbing at the petals of the flowers once more. You sigh, crossing your arms as you sidle up next to him. Your hip bumps his as you lean on the counter, and his eyes avoid yours as you look up at him.

His shoulders are tense.

“I’m here for good, Wonwoo. I missed it here, I missed Mingyu and Tzuyu and I missed my parents.”

“What about me? Did you miss me?” 

His voice is so soft you almost can’t hear it, and you purposely bump your hip to his to garner his attention.

“Of course I missed you.” You whisper, a smile twitching at your lips as he nibbles on his lip.

“Then why didn’t you visit? Why did it take you six months to call me when you first moved? Why…Why did you date Euijoo?”

You feel your chest ache at his questions, the furrow in his brows making you push off the counter, straightening. Sighing, you rest your head on his bicep, the muscle tensing beneath your cheek.

“Sometimes we do things to fill a void, you know? Sometimes we hide from the things we know could be good for us, and look for something we think could be enough, so we won’t ruin or sully what we have already.” You shrug, and he looks down at you again.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I wish I would’ve realized how you felt about me before I left. I mean, I would’ve still gone but I would’ve visited more. I would’ve come back often, tried to make it work. I’m sorry.”

You peer up at him through your lashes, and he just shakes his head.

“My feelings here don’t matter, I’m talking about you.”

“You are a huge part of me, of my life.” You remind him, your hand ghosting over the small of his back as he huffs.

“So you abandoned your life in New York, your dream, for me?” Wonwoo sounds almost offended, and you scoff.

“I abandoned my life in New York because I missed home. I missed my parents, my friends. I miss talking to my friends when we’re all staying up late, not just when I am and I have to go to bed when the gab gets good. I…I missed walking around in the middle of the night with you, and getting heartburn from eating spicy noodles at two in the morning. Can’t I miss home, Wonwoo?”

He clicks his tongue, tapping his fingers on the counter. “I guess you can. But you said home for you is not a place, but a person.” 

“I did say that.”

He doesn’t say anything, picking at his nails silently before sighing.

“Did Hansol tell you about the flowers?” He murmurs, and you nod.

“You could’ve talked to me, especially between boyfriends. You had lots of chances, Seungcheol literally aired you out.” You say pointedly, and he rolls his eyes.

“You didn’t believe him, and I wasn’t going to ruin our friendship because I was feeling something you weren't.”

“And how do you know that I wasn’t?” You raise a brow, and he scoffs. He shoves his hands in his pockets, moving out of the kitchen to go sit on his couch. He leans his head against the wall, closing his eyes as you make your way over and perch on the edge of his mahogany coffee table.

“I’m sorry I missed your birthday dinner that one year. I thought if I missed one, it’d be easier to start getting used to not seeing you. I was fully committed to getting over you, to moving on, even if I wasn’t happy with…fuck, I forgot her name.”

“Jaehee.”

“With Jaehee.” He ran his hand over his face, and you sigh.

“That was ages ago, Wonwoo. We move on.” You pat his knee, and he lifts his head to face you. His cheeks are slightly flushed as he takes a breath.

“I don’t want to move on, that’s the problem. You think I haven’t tried? Do you know how many relationships I’ve been in since you’ve left?”

“Mmh, I don’t. Do tell.” You nod, inching slightly closer, resting your elbows on your knees and clasping your hands together. He doesn’t look amused, running an exasperated hand through his hair and closing his eyes.

“I look for you everywhere, and I’ve never even had you. I can’t help but compare every single woman I’ve ever been with to you, Y/N. It’s driving me fucking insane, being in love with you.”

He’s hiding his face in his hands, and you feel your chest grow hot as you hum in response. You shift slightly, your knees bumping his and making him sigh.

“I mean, for years it's been like we're in this odd mesh of limerence and denial. You do something that makes me think, oh, maybe she's into me? You'd seek me out for comfort, for help, for whatever, and I was there. I am there, like an idiot, hoping you'll just get it. Then you date people who are in proximity to me – my best friend, my team captain, the secretary of my AV club. Then you leave. You left, Y/N." 

"I know." You can't recognize the thickness in the back of your throat, the way you swallow around it as he fiddles with one of his rings. "You didn't even come say goodbye, Wonwoo. Hansol ripped my heart out and handed it to me, because of you, and you weren't even there." "I didn't want to see you cry." He mumbles, and you only shake your head.

"You've seen me cry, you've seen me laugh. You've been the reason behind the tears and the laughter. You've seen me in all these weird spots in my life, you watched me date all these men. You were most of the reason as to why these men broke up with me. Yet, you never once thought that I was looking for you?" "Why would I ever give myself that much importance?" He scoffs, and you shrug. "Maybe because I give you that much importance, Wonwoo."

He sighs shakily, leaning back on the couch cushions and swallowing hard. "Did you know I got a few collections displayed in a museum after you left? Your parents went, did they send you photos?"

"Some. I liked the one of Tzuyu and Mingyu in the flower fields." He got up, skirting around your knees and walking up to the bookcase next to his TV. He scours the leather bound books, before a soft aha! falls from his lips, pulling out a green one. He flips it, and you realize it's a photo album.

He hands it to you, sitting back down on the couch. You open it tentatively, your fingers trembling as the photos come into view. They have that digital camera feel to them, a bit grainy and dated. The first photo was old, you could tell just from the image: it was you and Mingyu, sitting around a bonfire at a waterfall you would hang out at during the warmer months, one that went into a lake lined with boulders. You were dating here, and your nose had melted marshmallow swiped across it while Mingyu grinned in the corner of the photo.

"This is an old photo, Wonwoo." "They're all old, you haven't been around." He retorts, before flipping the page.

Another photo of you smiling as you laid out on the flat boulder by the edge of the lake, another of you on the handlebars of Mingyu's bike – you remember that one, it was Mingyu's seventeenth birthday. Another of you with Tzuyu solving a puzzle during one of Mingyu's visits, you and Hansol sharing a cup of lemonade during a snack run after one of Wonwoo's soccer games, you and Seungcheol swinging on a hammock in the park – where you often bumped into Wonwoo taking photos of birds, flowers, life.

There was photo after photo of you, in every moment of your life. There was a photo of the pink camellias he'd gotten for you, there was a photo of his student apartment packed up but one of your cardigans, bright red, stark against the cardboard boxes. This album, full of memories of you through his eyes – without a singular glimpse of Wonwoo, until the last photo.

It wasn't like the other photos – this was high definition, and you remember this photo being taken. You were wearing a pink t-shirt that had belonged to Wonwoo, and a necklace that Wonwoo had given to you for one of your birthdays. You were sitting on his couch, surrounded by Mingyu and Tzuyu. You had a bag of honey mustard pretzels that Wonwoo bought you in your lap, your smile shy and your fingers holding a napkin.

It was the day you finally told them you'd be leaving, just moments before.

And you remember how quietly he'd put his camera away after that, and your friends had settled uneasily around you. Wonwoo sat on his coffee table, eyes worried but masked with a soft smile – just like you were, now.

The album was empty after that, with only two or three pages left to complete it.

"This was an exhibit I arranged for the museum, but I never submitted it. I called it Hanging By A Moment, because that's what…" He takes a deep breath. "That's what this feels like. I feel like I'm just waiting for the moment to end, and I'm not sure in which direction I would prefer it to happen. Sometimes I would stay awake and wonder why I didn't go visit you, but I knew exactly why." You set the photo album on your lap, giving him a gentle look.

"You didn't want to see something that would break your heart." "I didn't want to see you happy with someone else, somewhere else." His voice is thick, and you move to speak but he shakes his head. 

"I didn't want to go somewhere and see you living so well without me, when I'm in shambles without you. I couldn't sleep most nights the first year that you were gone. I found myself still walking towards your apartment with Hansol. Hell, I've even hung out with Seungcheol, routinely, just to feel the influence of you. The essence of what you are, imprinted in the people you've graced with your presence." He's looking down at his hands, a singular tear rolling down his cheek. You feel like you can't breathe around the lump in your throat, as he glances up.

"I don't think I can handle this anymore. I need you to say nothing is ever going to happen between us, that the moment is over. I need you to end this, because if you don't, I never will."

You can't speak, but it doesn't matter – because he keeps going.

"I'd be perfectly content having you within arm's reach for the rest of my life, as long as you're happy. You could be across the world, hell, across the fucking universe and I'd never stop missing you, or yearning for you, or loving you. Befriending you all those years ago has got to be one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made, because I can't imagine a life without you. But loving you, being in love with you? Y/N, that has got to be the biggest grace I've ever been given by whatever God is out there. Nothing has ever been easier than loving you has been, but it is the most painful thing I've ever experienced. So, please. End this, I'm begging you." Your throat hurts from holding back your tears, a soft sob escaping your lips as you turn away. You let the tears run down your cheeks, using your hand to muffle your cries as he just lets his tears drip onto his jeans. You can see, through blurry eyes, the way he wants to reach for you, the way his hands clenched into fists before he shoves them under his thighs. 

It's silent for a moment, aside from shaky breathing and a few sniffles from Wonwoo. You wipe your eyes carefully, trembling hands gripping the edges of the album as you slide it onto the coffee table next to you. He grabs it, using it as an excuse to stand up and move around – Wonwoo always needed to do that after talking. Like he felt the need to exert all his feelings physically.

You also stand, his rug soft under your socked feet as he slides the album back in place. He doesn't turn back around, his hand lingering on the spine of the album as you round the coffee table. You're right behind him, seeing the buried tension in his back and shoulders as he feels your presence. You clear your throat as best as you can.

"I don't want the moment to end." He doesn't move, and you find yourself stepping in front of him, between the bookcase and his chest. He doesn't look at you, but allows your hands to find home on his chest. You smooth his shirt cautiously, before patting him gently.

He glances down.

"You're my home, Wonwoo." You say softly, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. Your hand moves to his jaw, your thumb gently tracing circles into his cheek. He has a bit of stubble, despite the cool scent of his aftershave. You can't help but let the sacred words slip from your lips as his eyes bore into yours.

"I love you." He looks away, a shaky sob from his lips making your heart ache as you rest your head on his chest. He instinctively wraps his arms around you, so used to your physical affection in years past that it's just muscle memory at this point – despite his own reserved affections. You're surrounded by his scent, his warmth, him.

"I know it won't be easy. I've been gone for five years, and I've missed so much of your life. I know my apologies count for near nothing at this point, but you can't sincerely believe that I haven't yearned for you every step of my journey away." You're slightly muffled, feeling the metal of his necklace under his shirt as he holds you closer, tighter. He doesn't reply, so you keep going.

"I love you, Wonwoo. I'm sorry I didn't allow myself to feel it before, and I'm sorry that I've made you wait so long. I'll wait, as long as you need me to. As long as you want me to wait, even if I die waiting–" "I'd wait an eternity for you." He murmurs into your hair, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"You shouldn't say that, Wonwoo." "But I did, and I will. I'd die waiting for you, if that's what it takes."

You sigh, pressing your forehead to his chest. "Are you still mad at me?" For the first time in years, you hear him laugh softly. Your arms tighten around his waist reflexively, a pout on your lips as you peer up at him. "I missed your laugh." He huffs, cheeks tinging pink as he avoids your gaze, carding his fingers through your hair. "I'm still mad at you. I bet you paid a shit load of money for a cab from the airport, didn't you? You could've just told me to come pick you up. I would've done it." "I wanted to surprise you." "Well…what about your apartment? I didn't even get to recommend this place, you probably went through some real estate guy–" "You're just grappling at things to be mad about, aren't you?" "No. I am mad." He grumbles, his lip jutted out in a pout as you smile up at him.

"You sure? Can't I change your mind, my good sir?" You wiggle your brows, and he scoffs, but you see the twitch of a smile on the corner of his lips. He tongues his cheek as your hands move to his face, making him look down at you. "I'm sorry, Wonwoo." He rolls his eyes, your hands squishing his cheeks together. "Prove it." You quirk a brow, "Prove…what?" "That you love me. Prove it." He shrugs, moving your hands off his face and letting them go at your sides. You scoff, gesturing to the air.

"I'm here, aren't I? Isn't that enough?" You cross your arms, a defiant look crossing your features as he sighs. His fingers are warm as they tuck a stray curl behind your ear, your skin prickling as he thumbs at your earlobe.  "Of course it's enough." He mumbles, "You'll always be enough. More, even. More than enough for me."

You think he mumbles I love you.

Your face grows hot as he scans it, eyes heavy with purpose and love. For the first time, you allow yourself to realize how nervous Wonwoo makes you – your heart racing in your chest as you lean closer to him. He doesn't back away, his hand now gently holding your jaw. His thumb rests on the corner of your lip, the weight so comforting. "Kiss me." You do just that, your lips crashing into his as he steadies your body. Your hands fist his shirt as he kisses you slowly, walking you back into the bookshelf. Your back hits it gently, his hands cupping your face softly as he pulls away. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed as your fingers circled his wrists. "I missed you so much, sweetheart." "I missed you too, Wonwoo."

He struggles to bite back his smile, your lips pressing a chaste kiss to his before peppering them all over his face. "You can't stay mad at me forever, you know." You speak through kisses, his nose scrunching as you press your lips to it.

"I can certainly try. You know I can hold a mean grudge." "Mingyu ate your leftovers once, Wonwoo. He literally cooked for you everyday of college, you need to let it go." "You're taking his side? Some friend you are." He scoffs, his hands pushing your hair off your shoulders. You wrap your arms around his waist, your chin in the center of his chest as you pout up at him.

"I flew all this way, I confessed my love…and I'm your friend?" He tongues his cheek, swallowing his laughter as he shakes his head. "Well, no. A friend wouldn't leave me for five years and then suddenly show back up–" "Wonwoo." " –And expect me to just forgive her. You could at least try and get in my good graces." You huff, "So you hate me." "No, no. I'm very much in love with you, actually. However, though love is merciful…I am not as much. You said you'd wait." "Wonwoo–" "Ah, ah. You said you'd wait. So you will." He shrugs, running his hand through your hair. He twirls a piece around his finger, "I know that you know how I feel about you, from other people's minds and mouths. I think it's best if I get to show you, truthfully and openly. Don't you?" You say nothing just yet, choosing to stare up at him with a hint of worry in your eyes. He glances down, the hand in your hair coming to gently hold your jaw. "What if you realize you don't want me?" "Oh, sweetheart. I'd be a fool not to want you. Let the sky fall the day I make that stupid decision."

You sigh, moving to rest your cheek on his chest. He hums, running his fingertips across your scalp. 

"It's not everyday you find a muse in someone the moment you meet them. Don't worry about me ever not wanting you, me ever not needing you." You don't reply, feeling your nose burn as your eyes fill with tears. He pats the back of your head, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Come, I need to take your picture. You need to fill the last few pages of that album."

And, you comply. You let him wipe your tears, pressing kisses to your eyelids as he sits you at his kitchen counter. He pulls out a gold candle from his kitchen drawer, sticking it in the cake slice from the restaurant and lighting it carefully. He pushes your hair back, and pulls the pendant of your necklace out to rest in the middle of your chest.

"Smile, sweetheart." He murmurs behind the camera, and you do. You smile, glossed lips swollen from the kisses, eyes full of stars as you stare at Wonwoo behind the flash. "Make a wish, quickly." You lean forward, closing your eyes when you see another flash behind your lids. Smiling to yourself, you blow the candle out, quickly taking it out of the cake slice. He offers a fork, and you lean on your elbows as he takes out a few bottles of soju.

"What'd you wish for?" He asks, unscrewing one of the lids off the bottles. You smirk around a bite of cake, shaking your head as he turns away to rummage for shot glasses.

"I'm not telling you, it won't come true." He scoffs, pulling out a set of shot glasses you'd given him during college. They have Snoopy and Woodstock doodled on the sides – he was always Woodstock, you were Snoopy.

"Oh, come on. Tell me, I'll make it come true." "What are you, a magician? Tell me what else I missed while I was gone." He rolls his eyes, running his tongue over his lower lip as he slides the Snoopy glass over, filled to the brim with fresh soju. You take it carefully, and he raises a brow.

"Tell me your wish, Y/N." You huff, before reaching over to cheers your glass with his. You both knock back the liquor, and you scrunch your nose as you slide it back over to him. He fills it again, and you shift in your chair.

"If I tell you, you'll have to do it." "Stop being so ominous, I hate it when you do that."

He slides the glass back over, only half full as he sidles up next to you. Your hand instinctively wraps around his bicep, and you rest your cheek on his shoulder.

"Promise me you'll make it come true, Wonwoo." "I promise. It's your birthday, sweetheart. I'd bring down the stars if you asked."

– SIX WEEKS LATER: GOYANGI'S HOME, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA.

Wonwoo had done exactly as you asked on your birthday – he kept his word, and tried his best to make your birthday wishes come true. Granted, you underestimated him: he would get both done within the six weeks it took to get your shop open.

After the two of you finished off the thick slice of chocolate cake, Wonwoo asked you to spend the night. You did, and a part of you held back tears as he held you in his arms – mumbling in his sleep. Mumbling about how he loved you, how long he'd waited…

How scared he was you'd slip away, like sand in an hourglass timer.

You'd spent the last month and a half glued at the hip. He took you to visit your parents early in the mornings, who bawled uncontrollably and demanded you'd stay all day. Wonwoo hadn't minded, and he stayed with you for dinner several times – and took many odd photos. He never showed you any of them, but he couldn't let you out of his sight, either.

He accompanied you to all your furniture shopping for the shop, he helped choose the paint, he even went as far as taking your website photos. Which, of course, included photos of you – in the kitchen, in your uniform, making a mess of flour and powdered sugar.

Powdered sugar that he kissed off your lips.

Because neither of you could go more than an hour without seeing each other, you practically moved into his apartment. You were spending almost every night there despite your own bed calling your name like a child does its mother. Wonwoo hadn't been kidding about making you wait, either. He let you kiss him, he told you he loved you, yes – but the dates were casual outings. Dinner, picnics, movies. You had a few game nights, and even went over to Hana's for drinks. You'd decided you were each other's plus ones for Mingyu and Tzuyu's wedding, and submitted such information on your RSVP placards.

You spent time together in copious amounts, something you couldn't ever find a fill of. You made him pastry after pastry, coffee cup after coffee cup, back massage after back massage to ease the tension in his shoulders. He gave you a silver necklace, a small letter W hanging from the center. 

You wore it with pride. He didn't ask you to be his girlfriend, and he didn't let you ask any questions about it, either.

Instead, he made your birthday wishes come true – he asked the Museum of Arts if they still needed an exhibit for the season. When they said yes, he submitted his Hanging by a Moment gallery – with a few new additions. You'd loved it, and had proudly gone to the museum at least twice a week to see it.

Now?

You're both standing in your unopened shop, showing your parents everything. The walls are a muted terracotta with a few tangerine accents, to match the feel of the digital photos of your life through Wonwoo's eyes. You asked him to make copies of the photos for you as well, framing them in thick, gold frames.

All but one, that sat in the middle of them all on the wall. "And this is the final installment." He spoke to your parents softly, before gesturing to a photo split in the middle. One half was you, dressed in all black with the silver necklace he'd given you three weeks ago, and holding Wonwoo's digital camera up to your face. Your smile was peeking out from behind your hand, directed right at him.

And the other half was him. The only photo of him in the entire exhibit – of him holding his digital camera vertically against his face, slightly messy hair and a beige t-shirt that was two sizes too big for him but you loved anyway. You'd taken this photo at a street food stand, and he remembers how softly you kissed his cheek right after.

You stood next to him with a soft smile on your face as your father perused the photos, his eyes watery as he looked at the ones of you in college. Your smile, so young and carefree. Your eyes, full of the same shimmer and light you have now – but now, it's brighter. You seem lighter.

Happier.

You seem like you're home.

"What do you think?" You ask gently, wrapping your hand around Wonwoo's arm. He instinctively covers your hand with his, and your father nods.

"I think you're in love." He shrugs, and Wonwoo's cheeks flush almost instantly. You chuckle, squeezing your hand around Wonwoo's arm before patting his chest.

"I've got some new pastries in the oven, shall we? I'm trying a new recipe." You wiggle your brows at your parents, who both smile as you extend your hands to them. They take them gingerly, letting you guide them into the kitchen. You look over your shoulder, sending Wonwoo a quick wink as you slip inside with them.

And, Wonwoo knows.

He knows you love him, as he stands in this shop – named for him, by you. Walls covered in you, by him. He knows you love him as you smile warmly at him, your eyes sparkling in a way he'd only ever seen with him – never with Seungcheol, or Hansol, or Mingyu.

Just him.

So, what does it matter? The moment, why does it matter? Why not hang onto it, as long as he can? Why not take in every ounce of your light so long as you allow it, and reflect it right back to you? Why not be a mirror of your love, a beacon of the same hope you hold, a star in the sky that also tells you there is something to wish upon?

Why waste it, when he can savor it – the way you look at him, the way you kiss him, touch him, the way you make him feel? How he's gone absolutely mad just looking at you in the mornings, slowly waking up by his side, burying your face into his bare chest? Why waste the moment when he can capture it – your smiles, your tears, the way you cover your face shyly when he compliments you.

Why not live in the moment – the feeling of your lips against his, the way you claw his shirt off, the way you whimper beneath him while fully clothed and untouched? Why not live in the moment, where he gets to hear you laugh like no one's listening, watch you dance like there is no tomorrow? Why not, when you ask him to take the long way home and roll the windows down, singing along to his playlist and feeling the air whip your hair around until your face is frosty from the wind.

Why not live in this moment – when you're so irrevocably in love with him, and he doesn't have to ever question it because you don't even need to tell him? Where you've related him to a cat that always finds its way back home, where you're supposedly the home and you are – but you are also the cat that finds her way home all on her own?

Why not? "Wonwoo? Are you listening?" "Huh? Sorry." He rubs his neck sheepishly, before noticing he's sitting at the bar of your shop, a dulce de leche éclair sitting on a plate in front of him. Your parents are in the corner, holding their own pastries and analyzing the photos once more. You're leaning your back on the bar next to him, your elbows holding you up as you reach over and gently carding your fingers through his hair.

"I said, I love you." "Now, why does it sound like you're scheming? Tell me what you really said." "It is, promise." You chuckle, your hand coming to pinch his cheek softly. He frowns, only making you coo up at him as you brush your lips to his. He glances up quickly, seeing your parents still enthralled by the photo of you and Mingyu at the waterfalls all those years ago. He looks back down, seeing you absently scanning his face as your thumb continues to rub circles into his face.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, before your father turns around and clears his throat. You look over your shoulder lazily, and your father has the pastry plates in his hand. "Your mother and I are going to start heading out now, honey. We've got a long drive back, and I'm sure you want to clean up a bit around here before your big opening tomorrow." "You're right, Dad. Thank you for coming, I'm glad you two could be the first to see it." Your voice is so warm, he can feel all the stress from his days just melting right off him as you walk your parents to the front. He follows suit, lingering behind as you and your parents say your goodbyes. He interjects his own, enveloping both of your parents in a hug before pulling away. You both wave as they get into their car, your mother waving back as they pull into the street and all the way down the road, before their car turns out of sight.

You turn around, your arms crossed as you look up.

"Goyangi's Home. What a name, isn't it?" You sigh, before glancing over at Wonwoo. He shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your giggle is like music to his ears as your hands rest on his chest, your lip tucked beneath your teeth as you look up at him.

"Well, you're home, aren't you?" "Aren't you, Wonwoo?"

"I am. I love you, you know."

He feels his chest ache in the best way possible, his heart beating twice as fast as you wrinkle your nose at him.

"I know. I love you, honey." So it's fine. It's fine, as Wonwoo lets you kiss his lips once, twice, three times before you slip back into the shop. It's fine, as Wonwoo walks in behind you, his fingers locking the front door so no one mistakes the shop as open. It's fine, as you hand him a broom and make him sweep the shop while you roll out the dough in the back, your hands coated in flour when he comes to steal a kiss.

Or two, or three – until you're pushed against the industrial fridge, his hands wrapped around your thighs as yours tangle in his hair. He doesn't care about the flour. He doesn't care that you'll both be here late to roll out the stupid dough, he doesn't care as long as you're with him.

He doesn't care about the time differences anymore. The kilometers of distance, the aches of missing you. He doesn't care, and he'd do it ten times over just to be worthy of you. 

He doesn't care about how pathetic he might sound as he kisses down your neck, begging you to be his girlfriend, begging you to never, ever leave him again.

He doesn't care about all the painful moments he used to hang onto, because you are the best moment to ever capture.

He cares when you promise that you'll never leave him again, your lips soft against the shell of his ear. He cares when you say yes, you'll be his girlfriend. You'll be anything he wants, for as long as he wants it. So yeah, he'll live in this moment. He'll keep it, hold it, cherish it forever as more whispers float off your lips to one another. I love you.

haologram © 2024 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[julietsf1]

All is Fair in Love and Pastries - Kenan Yıldız x Reader

summary: She came to Munich for romance and got ghosted instead. Now, all she has left is a non-refundable ticket, a wounded ego, and an ongoing feud with a man who stole her last pretzel. (8k words)

content: serendipity, slight enemies-to-lovers, unexpected chemistry, teasing, fluff :)

AN: getting that real life inspo lmao I'm actually still going to Munich this weekend as my ticket is non refundable :') bet im gonna go shopping tho!! have a lovely day darlings <3

_______________________________________

I stared at my phone for the hundredth time that day, hoping—no, praying—for a notification. A single message. A carrier pigeon, even. Anything to prove that I hadn’t just imagined the last 5 months of my relationship.

Nothing.

Just the same empty screen, as quiet and indifferent as the man who swore he loved me five days ago.

I refreshed our chat anyway, like that would suddenly make a difference. Maybe my WiFi was acting up. Maybe he had texted, and the message was just... stuck in the digital abyss, waiting to be delivered.

Nope. Still nothing.

I sighed dramatically and flopped back onto my bed, holding my phone above me like it might suddenly start explaining itself.

It had been four days since my boyfriend—ex-boyfriend? Current ghost?—had last texted me. Four whole days. No explanation, no excuse, not even the cowardice of a half-assed breakup text.

Just... radio silence.

Besides the instagram stories of his friends, where he was seemingly having the time of his life clubbing and going to basketball matches.

The man who, less than a week ago, had been telling me he missed me so much, that he couldn’t wait to see me, had apparently decided I no longer existed.

Cool. Very cool.

I unlocked my phone and stared at my last message to him. A simple:

"What time are you picking me up from the airport <3"

Sent. Read. Ignored.

I clenched my jaw and rolled onto my stomach, glaring at my laptop screen where my non-refundable plane ticket sat in my email inbox. A round-trip flight from Nice to Munich, purchased in what I now recognized as the stupidest burst of romantic optimism I’d ever had. 

What was I supposed to do now? Cancel? Waste the money and sit at home, marinating in my own heartbreak like some tragic rom-com protagonist?

Absolutely not.

He may have ghosted me, but I’d be damned if I let some spineless man ruin my weekend. If nothing else, I was going to Munich. I had been there quite often for him anyway; I can figure out town for myself. And if nothing else, I was going to eat overpriced pastries, wander through fancy boutiques, and romanticize the hell out of my heartbreak.

So that’s exactly what I did.

I packed my bags and boarded the plane with all the enthusiasm of someone heading to their own public execution.

…

Munich was cold, and I was hungry—a dangerous combination for my already fragile mood.

I had spent the last hour walking through Englischer Garten, trying to shake off the lingering irritation of being ghosted. Fresh air was supposed to be good for you, right? It was supposed to clear your head, restore balance, whatever.

Did it work?

Not even a little.

I even stopped by the Eisbachwelle, where wetsuit-clad lunatics flung themselves into freezing water, attempting to surf a man-made wave in the middle of the city. I lingered for a while, waiting for the sight of someone wiping out spectacularly to cheer me up. A little Schadenfreude, as the Germans call it.

But even that failed me.

A guy faceplanted so hard that his board smacked him in the ribs, and all I felt was secondhand embarrassment. Not a single drop of joy.

Which meant I had officially lost my edge.

I needed a reset. Something warm, salty, buttery, preferably in the shape of a large pretzel.

So when I spotted a small bakery stand in Marienplatz, I knew what had to be done.

There it was. The last Brezn.

Golden brown, perfectly crisp on the outside, still steaming slightly. It looked like a hug in food form. The kind of thing that could turn your entire day around, that could restore faith in humanity, that could—

A hand shot out at the same time as mine.

Before I could react, the pretzel thief had already handed over his cash, nodding a polite danke to the vendor as if he hadn't just robbed me blind in broad daylight.

I stood there, hand still hovering mid-air, fingers closing around absolutely nothing.

The guy—the criminal in question—didn’t even hesitate. He just took a bite, slow and deliberate, as if he were performing for a food commercial.

I should have just let it go. But I was cold, hungry, and, quite frankly, on the verge of snapping.

“Excuse me?” I said, my voice teetering dangerously close to customer service polite.

He finally turned toward me, mid-chew, like he hadn’t just committed culinary theft.

Up close, he was—unfortunately—pretty easy to look at. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features softened only slightly by a full head of thick, dark blonde hair. The kind of guy who looked like he belonged in an expensive ad campaign, modeling watches he probably didn't even know how to read.

His gaze flicked down at me, scanning me with the casual arrogance of a man who had never had to fight for the last anything in his life.

“Problem?”

I crossed my arms. “You just stole my Brezn.”

He glanced down at it. Then, without even a hint of remorse, ripped off another piece and tossed it into his mouth.

“Oh?” he said, chewing. “Didn’t see your name on it.”

I let out a slow breath through my nose. “You cut the line.”

He shrugged. “I don’t wait in lines.”

I squinted at him. “Oh, wow. That must be so difficult for you.”

“It is,” he replied, entirely serious, before popping another bite into his mouth.

I stared at him. He stared back.

This was a test from the universe.

“I think I deserve it more,” he said finally, still looking alarmingly relaxed about this whole thing.

“Oh yeah?” I deadpanned. “And why’s that?”

He licked a bit of salt off his thumb—unnecessarily slowly, might I add—before replying, “I’m barely ever home. Haven’t had one of these in months.”

I exhaled sharply, glancing at the vendor like maybe—just maybe—there was another pretzel hiding in a secret stash somewhere. But no. This was it.

This stranger had not only taken the last Brezn but was now making a compelling case as to why he deserved it more.

I had two choices:

1.     Accept defeat like a normal, functioning adult.

2.     Die on this hill.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t feeling particularly mature today.

“Well,” I said, shifting my weight onto one leg. “I actually had a really rough week. So if we’re doing the who deserves it more competition, I’m pretty sure I win.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking far too amused for someone who had just ruined my day. “Oh yeah? What happened?”

I opened my mouth, then hesitated.

 “Let’s just say I’ve had a series of unfortunate events that have led me here, to this exact moment, where all I wanted—all I needed—was a Brezn.” I gestured toward the offending baked good, still clutched in his ridiculously nice hands. “And yet, here we are.”

He considered that for a moment, like he was actually entertaining the idea of handing it over.

Then, after a beat, he simply swallowed, dusted the salt from his fingers, and said, “Still not giving it to you.”

I blinked. “You’re actually the worst.”

“Probably,” he agreed, unbothered.

And then—because apparently, this interaction wasn’t infuriating enough—he shot me a quick smirk, turned on his heel, and walked away.

With my pretzel.

I watched his retreating figure, the back of his stupidly nice jacket, the annoyingly confident way he walked, and considered my life choices.

Maybe I should have just tripped him.

…

By the time I reached Jamal’s apartment, I had mostly let go of the pretzel theft.

Mostly.

Fine, not at all, but I was telling myself that because I refused to let some random bread bandit ruin my entire weekend.

I rang the doorbell, and within seconds, the door swung open to reveal Jamal Musiala—failed Raya date turned best mate.

We had met on the app ages ago, but within the first five minutes of real-life conversation, it was abundantly clear that we were better off as friends. No awkward tension, no will-they-won’t-they—just immediate sibling energy.

And when he heard about my spectacular disaster, he didn’t even hesitate.

"Cancel the hotel. My guest room is free. You’re staying with me."

Which was how I ended up here, standing in his doorway while he pulled me into a quick hug.

"Yo! Finally made it," he said, immediately pulling me into a hug. 

"Survived another international flight," I sighed, stepping inside and already feeling the tension in my shoulders ease.

He grabbed my bag, tossing it near the door like it was his personal mission to make sure I did absolutely nothing for myself this weekend. "Long day?"

"You have no idea," I muttered, collapsing onto the couch. "Between the baby on the flight and some guy testing my patience on the streets of Munich, I was one bad moment away from throwing hands."

Jamal raised an eyebrow, already amused. "Define ‘testing your patience.’"

I waved a hand. "Eh, some random dickhead cut in front of me at a bakery. Took the last Brezn. Very tragic. Anyway, I’m over it now."

Jamal snorted. "You don’t sound over it."

"I’ve grown as a person," I said solemnly, grabbing the tea he handed me. "Anyway, enough about me. What’s new? Got any hot gossip?"

"Nothing as dramatic as your bread wars," he teased, settling into the chair across from me. "But I’m still reeling over the fact that you thought long-distance dating was a good idea."

I sighed, taking a long sip of my tea. "Alright, go on. Get it out of your system."

He smirked. "No, no, I just think it’s inspiring. You—who has approximately zero patience for time-wasters—thought dating someone five countries away was a solid plan."

I gave him a look. "It made sense at the time!"

Jamal raised an eyebrow. "Did it?"

I groaned. "Yes! In theory, long-distance means built-in space. No pressure to see each other all the time, no risk of losing yourself in the relationship. You still get your own life. It’s all very mature, very evolved."

"Ah yes," he nodded seriously, "a relationship with absolutely no quality time. Revolutionary."

I ignored him. "It worked perfectly for me."

Jamal leaned forward, grinning. "I think you’re saying he just didn’t make you fall head over heels properly."

"I’m saying it was a noble experiment that failed," I corrected.

"You rationalize love like it’s a business deal," he said, shaking his head. "I bet you made a whole pros and cons list before agreeing to this relationship."

I pursed my lips.

Jamal’s eyes widened. "Oh my God. You did."

"It was a very casual list," I mumbled into my mug.

He threw his head back, cackling. "You’re mental."

I scowled. "Some of us like to make informed decisions, Jamal."

"And some of us," he grinned, "realize that love isn’t an investment portfolio. It just happens."

I squinted at him. "That sounds like something people say when they want me to shut up."

"That too," he admitted, still smirking. "Anyway, I invited a friend over for FIFA later—hope you don’t mind."

I waved a hand lazily. "No problem. I’m gonna take a long shower first anyway."

…

The shower did its job. By the time I stepped out, warm and wrapped in one of Jamal’s oversized hoodies, I felt lighter. Like maybe this weekend wasn’t a complete disaster. Maybe I could just enjoy being in Munich, enjoy my friend’s company, and ignore the nagging feeling that I had flown here for absolutely no reason.

Then I stepped into the living room.

And froze.

Because sitting on Jamal’s couch, controller in hand, was none other than the Brezn thief himself.

I stopped so abruptly I nearly slid on the hardwood floor.

He looked up at me mid-game, one hand casually flicking the joystick, the other resting against the back of the couch like he had all the time in the world. His dark blond waves were slightly damp, like he’d just showered too, and he was wearing a black long-sleeve shirt that looked unfairly good on him.

For a split second, I thought maybe the universe was punishing me. That this was some kind of elaborate karmic joke.

Then he grinned, slow and lazy.

“Oh,” he said, far too casually for my liking. “It’s you again.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you following me?”

Jamal—completely oblivious to the mounting tension in the room—paused the game and looked between us. “Wait. You two already know each other?”

The man—who I now knew was not just some random bakery menace but an actual acquaintance of Jamal’s—stretched his arms out in front of him like he was completely at ease, shooting me a look that was somewhere between amused and smug.

“We met earlier,” he said, still grinning like he found this whole thing hilarious. “Had a little disagreement over a pretzel.”

I crossed my arms. “I wouldn’t call it a disagreement. More like an act of blatant food theft.”

Jamal let out a loud laugh. “Oh my God. You’re the Brezn guy?”

I turned to him, betrayed. “You’re taking his side?”

“Oh, I’m on no one’s side,” Jamal said, still grinning. “I just can’t believe you’ve been ranting about this all evening, and it turns out it was Kenan.”

Kenan.

I turned back to him, my brain finally catching up. Kenan Yıldız. The name suddenly clicked into place. Juventus player. Young star. He had been on all the football news headlines lately, yet I hadn’t recognized him when we’d been too busy arguing over baked goods.

Kenan leaned back against the couch, clearly enjoying every second of this.

“If it helps,” he said, “I did think about giving it to you.”

I scoffed. “Wow. So generous.”

“Didn’t, though,” he added, eyes gleaming.

I inhaled sharply, mentally weighing the pros and cons of throwing a pillow at his head.

Jamal, meanwhile, was still thoroughly entertained. “Alright, alright. Before you two start a war in my living room, sit down. We’re playing FIFA.”

I dropped onto the couch, watching as he passed a controller to Kenan. “Oh, fantastic. I get to witness high-quality gameplay firsthand.”

Kenan barely glanced at me as he selected his team. “That sounded sarcastic.”

I took a sip of my drink. “That’s because it was.”

Jamal grinned. “You talk like you’ve seen him play before.”

I gestured toward the screen. "The evidence is right there. You haven’t even started playing, and I can already see the classic overconfidence."

Jamal burst out laughing. “Oh, this is great. I love this."

Kenan tilted his head slightly. “You think I’m bad at FIFA?”

I leaned back, stretching my legs out. “I think you think you’re good, which is way worse.”

Jamal wheezed. “Mate, she’s calling you a fraud.”

Kenan finally smirked, something sharper in his expression now. “Alright then. Play me.”

I scoffed. “Why would I waste my time proving something I already know?”

Kenan handed me a controller. “Because I think you’re all talk.”

Jamal let out a low whistle. “Damn. You gonna let him say that?”

I squinted at Kenan, assessing. He looked too confident, too pleased with himself, like he had already decided I was going to lose.

Big mistake.

I stretched my arms, feigning boredom. "Fine. But when I win, you’re buying me a Brezn."

His grin widened. “Deal.”

Jamal leaned forward, rubbing his hands together. “Alright, this is officially the most invested I’ve ever been in FIFA.” 

The match started, and I quickly realized three things:

1.     Kenan was as smug as humanly possible.

2.     I was not as bad as he expected.

3.     I was still losing.

“You sure you’ve played this before?” he teased, passing circles around my defense.

I gritted my teeth. “Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Shut up.”

And then—he scored.

Jamal burst out laughing as I dramatically collapsed against the couch. “I’m going to throw this controller at your head.”

Kenan grinned. “You’re just mad because you’re losing.”

I exhaled, resetting. “Alright. I’m locked in now.”

Kenan smirked. “Oh? You weren’t trying before?”

“I was warming up.”

And then—I started to figure him out.

Kenan was good, but he was also comfortable. He played like someone who expected to win—which meant he wasn’t ready for surprises.

So I gave him one.

Instead of playing safe, I started forcing mistakes. Instead of predictable attacks, I threw reckless passes forward, sprinting onto them with zero hesitation.

And then—somehow, some way—I scored.

The room went silent.

Jamal’s eyes widened. “NO WAY.”

I shot up from the couch, genuinely thrilled, throwing my arms in the air like I had just won the World Cup. “LET’S GO!”

Kenan blinked at the screen, processing. “...Alright. That was decent.”

“DECENT?” I laughed. “That was incredible. That was a masterpiece. Someone call FIFA, that was the best goal of the year.”

Jamal was dying, doubled over in laughter. “She’s actually celebrating like she won the league.”

Kenan shook his head, but he didn’t say anything.

Jamal leaned toward him. “You good, man? I think she actually rattled you.”

Kenan exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. “One goal means nothing.”

I grinned. “You sound stressed.”

“I’m not,” he said flatly.

“You look stressed.”

Kenan didn’t even respond. He just restarted the match, jaw set, eyes focused.

And that’s when I realized—he actually cared.

I had gotten to him.

And that fact alone made my entire weekend.

The rest of the game was pure chaos. I spent the entire match talking, commentating my every move like I was a sports announcer, making Jamal cry with laughter while Kenan did his best to block me out.

And then—somehow, against all odds—I scored again.

Jamal fell to the floor. “SHE DID IT AGAIN.”

I jumped up, clapping my hands together, absolutely beaming. “Someone get the cameras! Someone call ESPN!”

Kenan exhaled, dragging a hand down his face.

Jamal cackled. “I think this is the happiest I’ve ever seen her.”

Kenan looked at me then, properly looked, and for a split second, there was something undeniably fond in his gaze.

He didn’t say anything, just shook his head with a tiny, reluctant smile.

I flopped back down, grinning wildly. “Kenan, should I go pro?”

“You should retire while you’re ahead,” he muttered.

I smirked. “So you admit I’m ahead.”

Kenan sighed, picking up his drink. “I’m not talking to you anymore.”

Jamal wheezed. “Nah, man, you lost. Accept it.”

I stood up, stretching lazily. “I believe you owe me a Brezn, Yıldız.”

With a giggle, I wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a coke from the fridge, still riding the high of my victory.

Behind me, I heard Jamal got up, grabbing his phone. “Food’s almost here—I’ll go down and get it.”

The appartment was quiet now besides the sound of a controller being set down. A pause.

Then, Kenan’s voice, low and even.

“She’s unbearable.”

I grabbed a coke and turned around, only to find him already walking into the kitchen.

He moved with the kind of easy confidence that was impossible to ignore, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt slightly, like he had all the time in the world. I expected him to go for a drink himself, but he just leaned against the counter, watching me.

I raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip. “Let me guess. You came in here to process your humiliating loss in private?”

His lips twitched. “I came in here to see if you’d finally crack and admit you got lucky.”

I scoffed, setting my drink down with dramatic emphasis. “Lucky? Oh, that’s cute. You think this was luck.”

Kenan tilted his head slightly, like he was really considering it. “Mmm. Either that, or you tricked me into underestimating you.”

I gasped, pressing a hand to my chest. “Are you suggesting I played mind games with you?”

His eyes glinted with something just shy of admiration. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

I smirked. “You’re right. I totally did. And I’d do it again.”

Kenan’s lips curled at the edges, like he wasn’t going to give me the satisfaction of admitting anything. But his gaze flickered—just for a second—down to my mouth before locking back onto my eyes.

There was a beat of silence, not awkward but charged.

His voice was lower when he spoke again. “I’ll get you back for that.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Sure you will.”

Before he could respond, Jamal’s voice rang out from the hallway. “Food’s here!”

Kenan stepped back, running a hand through his hair before nodding toward the door. “Come on, winner. Let’s eat.”

I followed, my smirk still lingering.

For the first time all weekend, I felt genuinely good.

…

It had gotten late the night before. Later than expected.

Jamal had ordered food, we’d all ended up sitting around, eating, talking, and somehow, between full stomachs and heavy eyelids, Kenan had ended up crashing on the couch. It wasn’t planned—just one of those things that happened when the night stretched longer than you thought it would.

I had barely registered it at the time, already halfway asleep in Jamal’s guest room, but when I woke up the next morning and wandered into the living room, there he was.

Kenan Yıldız. In all his six-foot-something, professional athlete, half-asleep glory.

Sprawled out on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes, hair a mess of lazy curls, mouth slightly parted like he hadn’t fully re-entered consciousness yet.

I stared for a second too long, mostly because I wasn’t used to seeing him like this—soft around the edges, not smirking or arguing with me—before clearing my throat.

“You know, Jamal does have an actual guest room.”

Kenan didn’t move, just let out a low, sleep-roughened grumble that was probably a sentence in some language I didn’t speak.

I rolled my eyes, walking into the kitchen. “I’m going to get breakfast. If you’re alive in the next five minutes, feel free to come along.”

He was already pushing himself up onto his elbows, blinking like he wasn’t fully convinced the day had started yet. “Where’s Jamal?”

I grabbed my coat. “Still dead to the world.”

Kenan ran a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose. “Smart man.”

…

The café was small, tucked away from the main streets, the kind of place that felt warm the second you walked in. The smell of fresh bread and espresso filled the air, and despite the morning chill outside, it was cozy, inviting, the kind of place people actually took their time in.

I relaxed a little the second I stepped inside.

Kenan scanned the space, hands in his pockets, taking it in like he was mentally scoring it. “Not bad.”

I scoffed. “Not bad? This is an elite breakfast spot.”

He smirked. “I’ll decide once I taste the food.”

I rolled my eyes but before I could continue defending my flawless café selection, I noticed a small interaction at the counter.

A barista—young, probably new—was clearly overwhelmed, trying to juggle too many things at once. She fumbled slightly with the coffee machine, hands moving fast, eyes flicking to the growing line like it was personally taunting her.

The businessman at the front, impatient and already checking his watch, let out a loud, exasperated sigh. “Jesus, is it always this slow?”

I didn’t mean to intervene.

It just kind of… happened.

I leaned slightly against the counter, offering a calm, easy smile.

“Take your time. It’s way too early for people to be this impatient.”

The words weren’t pointed, not really, but they carried just enough weight to cut through the tension.

The barista glanced at me, a flicker of relief in her expression before she nodded quickly and refocused on the drink in front of her.

The businessman, unimpressed, muttered something under his breath but dropped it, grabbing his coffee and stalking off.

Kenan, silent up until now, turned his head slightly toward me, like he was seeing me differently for the first time.

I ignored it, focusing back on the menu.

When we finally stepped up to order, the barista, still looking a little frazzled but better, managed a small, genuine smile.

“Thanks,” she murmured, adjusting her apron. “Some people are just…” She trailed off, rolling her eyes slightly, as if she couldn’t quite find the right word.

“The worst?” I offered.

She laughed. “Yeah. That.”

Kenan was still watching me, but now there was something else behind it.

Something almost amused.

“So you do have the capacity to be nice,” he mused, smirking as we stepped aside to wait for our drinks. “Interesting.”

I scoffed, stirring a sugar packet between my fingers. “I am perfectly capable of being nice.”

Kenan raised a brow, feigning deep contemplation. “Mmm. Just not to me?”

“The barista never stole my pretzel.”

He let out a low, lazy laugh, shaking his head as if he almost respected the answer. “Fair point.”

I took a sip of my coffee, pleased with myself, but before I could gloat, the barista returned, sliding an extra croissant onto our tray.

“On the house,” she said with a grin. “For being nice.”

I shot her a bright smile, but that smile slightly fell when I turned back to Kenan, I caught him watching me.

Not smirking. Not teasing.

Just looking.

It wasn’t obvious, nothing overt or lingering enough to call attention to itself. But there was something there—something unreadable, like a thought passing through his mind before he could decide what to do with it.

I frowned. “What?”

Kenan blinked, shaking his head slightly like he was resetting his expression. “Nothing.”

I squinted at him. “You’re weird.”

He smirked. “And yet, you invited me to breakfast.”

I rolled my eyes. “Because I was feeling charitable.”

Kenan took a slow sip of his coffee, eyes still flickering with something I couldn’t quite name.

“Lucky me.”

And for some reason, that sentence stayed with me longer than it should have.

…

The rest of the day, after dropping Jamal’s breakfast and Kenan went home, I was on a mission.

Enough sulking. Enough rehashing why I was even here. If I was going to spend a weekend away, I was going to make something of it—starting with the one thing that had never failed to lift my spirits.

Retail therapy.

Now, let’s be clear—I wasn’t the kind of person who regularly indulged in luxury shopping sprees. I was a firm believer in financial responsibility and splurging on sales.

But sometimes—just sometimes—a girl needed to treat herself.

I had no intention of actually buying anything.

But the moment I stepped inside Saint Laurent, something in me shifted.

Maybe it was the soft golden lighting, making everything look like it belonged in a dream. Maybe it was the quiet elegance of it all, the way the sales associates moved like they had all the secrets to life itself.

Or maybe, for the first time all week, I felt like I deserved something just for me.

I started with the handbags, lightly running my fingers over smooth leather and delicate gold clasps, trying to soak up the feeling of being in a place that felt so effortlessly put-together.

And then—I saw it.

It wasn’t a bag.

It was a dress.

Simple, timeless, and undeniably perfect.

I hesitated for a second, fingers hovering over the fabric, wondering if I was allowed to try something this nice on.

Then a sales associate appeared, smiling warmly. “Would you like to see how it fits?”

I bit my lip, a little shy. “Oh, I was just—”

But then, in a rare moment of self-indulgence, I nodded. “Actually… yeah. Why not?”

And that was how it started.

Five minutes later, I was standing in front of a mirror, staring at a version of myself I hadn’t seen in a while.

The dress fit like it was made for me.

It hugged just right, elegant but effortless, like I’d just thrown it on and magically looked stunning. The kind of dress that didn’t need accessories or complicated styling. It just… worked.

I smoothed my hands over the fabric, twirling just slightly, inspecting every angle.

And for the first time all weekend, I actually smiled at my reflection.

The saleswoman clasped her hands together. “That’s the one, isn’t it?”

I exhaled, still staring at myself. “You’re very good at your job.”

She laughed. "You look stunning, dear."

I let out a small, giddy giggle, the kind I hadn’t heard from myself in a while. It felt nice, to like how I looked—to do something that was just for me, without a single ounce of guilt attached.

For once, I wasn’t overthinking it.

I wasn’t analyzing whether I should or shouldn’t.

I was just happy.

So before I could talk myself out of it, I lifted my chin and said, “I’ll take it.”

As I handed over my card, I thought about where I’d wear it.

Jamal’s match tonight. The VIP box.

And then, out of nowhere, another thought crept in—one I definitely didn’t mean to have.

What if Kenan sees me in this? Surely he would be there too.

The moment the thought fully registered, warmth crept up my neck and into my cheeks.

I nearly choked on my own internal monologue.

I shook my head quickly, forcing down the blush before the saleswoman could notice.

I wasn’t buying this for him. Obviously. No. This was just for me.

…But if Kenan happened to see me in it, well.

That wasn’t my fault.

….

By the time I arrived at Allianz Arena, I felt genuinely lighter.

Maybe it was the crisp night air, the buzz of excitement in the crowd, or the fact that I was actually looking forward to something for the first time in days.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that I felt good in my new dress.

The stadium lights shone down as I made my way to the VIP section, clutching my pass. The energy inside was electric, fans already singing, the deep thrum of anticipation settling over the stands.

I stepped inside the box, scanning the seats for Jamal, when a familiar voice cut through the crowd.

I turned, already knowing who it was before I even saw him.

Kenan stood next to me, hands tucked casually into his pockets, his usual smirk firmly in place. The stadium lights did unfair things to his features, casting a warm glow over his already obnoxiously handsome face, and for a split second, I hated that he had the nerve to look like that in any setting.

His gaze flicked down ever so slightly, scanning my dress before he met my eyes again.

“You look good.”

I blinked, caught slightly off guard by the lack of sarcasm in his voice.

Then, as if he could sense me registering the compliment too much, he added, “Unexpected, really.”

There it was.

I let out a scoff, placing a hand on my chest. “Oh my God, Kenan. That was almost a normal, genuine compliment. You must be exhausted.”

He hummed, nodding. “Yeah, I don’t know what came over me. Won’t happen again.”

“Shame,” I teased. “I was really enjoying the moment.”

He shook his head, biting back a smile. “So, what brings you here? Finally expanding your horizons past FIFA?”

I crossed my arms. “Actually, I’m here for Jamal. Some of us support our friends.”

Kenan nodded slowly. “Mmm. And yet… you’re standing here, talking to me instead.”

I opened my mouth to fire back, but before I could, the stadium erupted in cheers, the players stepping onto the field.

I turned my attention to the match, trying to pretend I wasn’t slightly flustered.

Kenan, however, didn’t seem as interested in the game as he was in continuing his favorite pastime: annoying me for fun.

“So, be honest,” he murmured, leaning in slightly. “You understand the rules of football, right?”

I gave him a dry look. “Wow. Incredible assumption. You see a woman at a match and immediately assume she doesn’t get it?”

Kenan grinned, unbothered. “No, I just see you at a match and assume you’re mostly here for the snacks.”

I gasped. “Excuse me, I am deeply invested in Jamal’s career.”

Kenan hummed, clearly not convinced. “Okay. What position does he play?”

I stared at him. “...Defense?”

Kenan smirked. “He’s a midfielder.”

I groaned, throwing my hands up. “Alright, whatever, I’m here for vibes and friendship. Sue me.”

Kenan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with pure amusement.

For once, I didn’t feel annoyed by it.

I turned back to the field, taking in the sheer energy of the stadium, the rush of excitement that rippled through the crowd.

And out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kenan watching me.

I glanced at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching the match?”

His smirk didn’t waver. “I am.”

Something warm and fluttery settled in my stomach before I could stop it.

…

By the time the match ended, I was happily full of stadium energy but tragically underfed.

The VIP box had food, sure, but it was the kind of small, fancy bites that looked better than they tasted. You know, the kind that was supposed to be "elevated dining" but just made you angry and hungrier.

I popped another tiny canapé into my mouth and sighed dramatically.

Kenan, who had been watching me struggle with barely concealed amusement, finally smirked. “You’re starving.”

I turned to him, offended. “I am not starving.”

Kenan gestured lazily to the criminally small appetizer on my plate. “You just inhaled that in one bite.”

I crossed my arms. “Maybe I have a very refined palate.”

He snorted. “Right. That’s why you look physically betrayed after every bite.”

I sighed, defeated. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m a little hungry.”

Kenan hummed like he was deep in thought, then glanced at his watch.

“Come on.”

I frowned. “What?”

He was already heading toward the exit, looking over his shoulder like it was obvious. “We’re getting food.”

I blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

Kenan chuckled, his expression full of mischief. “Trust me, anything outside is an upgrade from whatever that was.”

I tilted my head. “And what if this is an elaborate scheme to lure me into a suspiciously empty street?”

His smirk deepened. “I’d like to think if I wanted you gone, I’d be more creative than that.”

I considered it. “That’s… unsettlingly fair.”

…

Kenan’s car smelled unfairly nice—not in an overwhelming, aggressively expensive way, but in that effortless ‘I have my life together’ way. It was all clean leather, faint cologne, and something subtly fresh, like pine or citrus, the kind of scent that made you want to breathe a little deeper just to keep it around a second longer.

I did not breathe deeper.

Instead, I focused on the city outside, on the soft blur of streetlights streaking across the window as we drove through a quieter part of Munich. The streets were mostly empty, the chaos of match day behind us, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I wasn’t feeling weighed down by my own thoughts.

I was full, I was warm, and for once, I wasn’t thinking about him.

And then, Kenan spoke.

“So.” His voice was casual, almost offhanded, like he wasn’t about to upend my peace. “You never actually said why you were in Munich.”

I blinked, looking away from the window. “What?”

He glanced at me briefly, his fingers drumming idly against the steering wheel before he turned back to the road. “You don’t seem like the type to just book a random flight for fun.”

I scoffed, feigning offense. “Excuse me, I am very spontaneous.”

Kenan hummed like he didn’t believe me. “Right. And how many of these ‘totally random’ solo trips have you taken before?”

I opened my mouth. Paused. Frowned.

“…That’s not important.”

Kenan chuckled, shaking his head. “So, you’re telling me you woke up one day and thought, Munich sounds nice?”

I huffed dramatically, crossing my arms. “Maybe I did.”

Kenan shot me a pointed look that said ‘I know you’re full of shit.’

I exhaled, shifting in my seat. “Fine. I was supposed to see someone.”

He didn’t react—just kept driving, waiting.

It was almost worse than if he had immediately jumped in with a question.

I sighed, resting my head against the window. “But, uh… turns out he didn’t feel like seeing me back. And I had the ticket booked already.”

The words felt… lighter now, like they didn’t hold the same weight as they did a few days ago. Maybe because I’d said them out loud before. Maybe because I wasn’t alone with them anymore.

Kenan’s fingers flexed on the steering wheel, his jaw tightening for half a second before he spoke.

“Idiot.”

I blinked, turning toward him. “What?”

His voice was even, casual, but the way he said it was too sure, too final. “The guy. He’s an idiot.”

I let out a small, surprised laugh, shaking my head. “You don’t even know him.”

Kenan didn’t hesitate. “Don’t have to.”

Something about his certainty made my stomach twist.

I licked my lips, choosing to ignore the warm feeling creeping into my chest. “You’re very confident in that assessment.”

Kenan finally glanced at me, just for a moment, then looked back at the road. “Yeah. I am.”

The air in the car felt different all of a sudden, not uncomfortable, but charged.

I opened my mouth, about to say something to break whatever this was, when—

Kenan reached into the backseat, grabbing something, and tossed a small paper bag into my lap.

I frowned down at it. “What’s this?”

Kenan kept his eyes on the road, one hand resting lazily on the gear shift. “Something I saw.”

I gave him a suspicious look before reaching inside.

The first thing I felt was something soft.

And when I pulled it out, I actually gasped.

It was a Jellycat plush.

But not just any Jellycat plush.

A pretzel-shaped one.

Ridiculously soft, golden brown with tiny embroidered salt flecks, its round body twisted into a perfect loop, like an adorable, carb-shaped hug.

I stared at it, completely thrown.

My brain short-circuited.

I turned to Kenan, wide-eyed. “You—” I stopped, shaking my head, too stunned to be normal about this. “You got me a Jellycat pretzel?”

Kenan shrugged, like this was completely normal behavior. “Figured you’d appreciate it.”

I blinked down at my lap, still gripping the plush like it might disappear if I let go. “I—this is—I don’t even know what to say.”

Kenan smirked. “Wow. A rare moment.”

I ignored him, still reeling. “Wait. How did you—” My eyes narrowed as the realization hit. “Jamal.”

Kenan huffed a small laugh. “Jamal.”

I groaned, slumping back against my seat, embarrassed beyond belief. “I swear, he’s worse than an actual gossip column.”

“He told me the full pretzel tragedy while you were shopping this morning.” Kenan’s lips twitched. “Said you looked genuinely devastated when I took the last one.”

I gasped, pressing a hand to my chest. “I was devastated.”

Kenan let out a real laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I got that impression. Little drama queen.”

I glanced back down at the plush, running my fingers over its ridiculously soft surface, warmth blooming in my chest for an entirely different reason now.

I swallowed. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, you know?”

Kenan exhaled through his nose, his smirk fading slightly. “I know.”

There was a small pause, then—

“I wanted to. I like to see you smile”

I froze.

Just for a second.

It wasn’t even what he said.

It was how he said it. Like it was simple. Like it wasn’t a big deal.

But it was a big deal.

I looked down at the Jellycat pretzel, tracing my thumb over one of the little embroidered salt flecks.

Kenan cleared his throat, like he wanted to move the conversation along before I got weird about it.

“I, uh—” He rubbed his jaw, focusing back on the road. “I couldn’t exactly smuggle a fresh one into the match, so I figured this would keep you warm in a different way.”

I swallowed, my grip tightening on the plush.

Somehow, slowly over the last few days, my heart stopped feeling so heavy.

I glanced at Kenan, and for once, he wasn’t watching me with his usual smirk or teasing expression.

He was just watching.

Like he was still trying to figure out why I looked so surprised.

Like he didn’t realize he had just completely disarmed me.

I turned back to the window, hiding my smile.

Kenan shifted in his seat, adjusting the air conditioning like he suddenly needed something to do with his hands.

He still hadn’t started the drive back to Jamal’s.

Good. I wasn’t in a rush to get anywhere.

…

I woke up earlier than expected, the kind of early where the world still felt half-asleep, where the streets outside hummed quietly with the first stirrings of the city.

The apartment was still, save for the occasional distant sound—pipes groaning as someone used the shower, the soft buzz of an electric toothbrush in another room.

And then—

A loud "OH, COME ON!" followed by rapid button-mashing and what I could only assume was a FIFA-related disaster.

I groaned, pressing my face into the pillow, trying to will myself back to sleep.

It didn’t work.

Instead, my hand reached instinctively for something beside me, fingers brushing against—

Oh.

I cracked one eye open.

There, sitting right beside my pillow, was the Jellycat pretzel plush.

Warmth bloomed immediately in my chest, completely uninvited.

It had been exactly where I left it, tucked neatly beside me like some ridiculous comfort object. I had slept next to it. Like some sentimental idiot.

I exhaled sharply, flopping onto my back and covering my face with my hands. “I’m losing it.”

Jamal’s distant FIFA agony continued in the other room.

I peeked at the plush again, this time reaching over to pick it up, squeezing it absently in my hands.

It was too soft. Too huggable. Too… thoughtful.

Kenan had really gone out of his way to find something like this. He had listened to Jamal’s retelling of my pretzel tragedy and then acted on it.

That thought alone did something weird to my stomach.

I needed to leave before I started reading into things.

After a long, slightly too-hot shower and a reluctant change into travel clothes, I zipped up my suitcase and walked into the living room, where Jamal was still intensely focused on FIFA.

“Morning,” I greeted, adjusting my bag strap.

Jamal barely looked up. “Yo. Ready for your flight?”

I nodded, shifting my weight. “Yeah, time to go back home. Thanks for letting me crash.”

He finally paused his game, stretching lazily. “No problem. You’re welcome to crash here whenever your love life implodes.”

I gasped, fake offended. “Excuse me, that was one time.”

Jamal smirked. “That was this time.”

I glared at him. “You’re very lucky I don’t have time to fight you about this.”

Jamal grinned, unpausing his game. “Safe flight, man. Oh—Kenan’s out front, by the way.”

I froze mid-step, my brain short-circuiting. “What?”

Jamal tilted his head toward the window. “I think he’s waiting for you.”

I blinked rapidly, my stomach flipping for reasons I refused to acknowledge.

Kenan was… waiting for me?

I didn’t even have time to process what that meant before my feet were already moving, slipping on my coat and heading for the door.

And sure enough—

When I stepped outside, there he was.

Leaning against his car, hands tucked into his pockets, his posture completely at ease, like he had been there for a while and had all the time in the world.

The moment he saw me, his lips curved into a smirk, like he had been expecting me to be surprised.

“You’re awake,” he said, as if he had any reason to assume I wouldn’t be.

I scoffed, shifting my bag higher on my shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

Kenan shrugged. “Driving you to the airport.”

I blinked. “I—what?”

He tilted his head slightly, amused by my confusion. “What, you thought I’d let you navigate Munich public transport with a suitcase?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I was literally just going to call an Uber.”

Kenan rolled his eyes, exhaling through his nose. “That’s boring.”

I stared at him, the weight of this entire situation settling into my brain.

Kenan—who had no reason to be here—had woken up, driven across the city, and was now waiting for me outside, completely unbothered, like this was just something he did.

I adjusted my coat, voice quieter. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

Kenan looked at me like I had just said something profoundly stupid. “Yeah. I know.”

I didn’t know what to do with that.

So instead of overanalyzing it to death, I just sighed, adjusting my bag.

“Fine. Let’s go.

…

When we finally pulled up to the departures area, Kenan shifted into park, tapping his fingers lightly against the steering wheel.

I unbuckled my seatbelt slowly, suddenly feeling like this was weirdly… final.

Like leaving now meant returning to normal.

And for some reason, I wasn’t ready for that.

I turned to him, opening my mouth to say… something.

But before I could, Kenan reached into his coat pocket and pulled something out.

A tiny bag of pretzels.

I blinked, thrown completely off guard. “You—”

Kenan smirked, holding it out toward me. “Figured you might need some snacks for the flight.”

I stared at him, something warm creeping into my chest before I could stop it.

I took the bag, shaking my head. “You’re trying to buy my goodwill?”

He leaned back against the seat. “You love it.”

I scoffed, but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Debatable.”

Kenan’s gaze flicked to my carry-on, and before I could register what he was about to say, his smirk deepened slightly.

“Did you pack the Jellycat?”

My face immediately heated up.

I opened my mouth—to lie, obviously—but Kenan just let out a laugh, shaking his head. “You did.”

I huffed. “No comment.”

Kenan’s lips twitched. “Good. It means my plan worked.”

I frowned. “Plan?”

He nodded toward the plush peeking slightly from the top of my bag. “Now you have to think about me every time you see it.”

My brain short-circuited.

I had no response to that.

I huffed, adjusting my bag. “Okay, well. Thanks for the ride, I guess.”

Kenan nodded once, casual as ever. “See you around.”

I hesitated for half a second.

Then, before I could stop myself—

I turned back to him one last time.

And said, without thinking:

“Don’t miss me too much.”

Kenan’s smirk was slow, lazy, and way too confident.

“No promises.”

I stared at him, my brain doing at least fifteen flips, before turning on my heel and walking inside before I could make this worse for myself.

I had no idea what had just happened.

All I knew was that my face was burning, and I was smiling like an idiot.

…

Back home, everything was exactly as I had left it.

The same apartment, the same slightly-too-loud coffee machine sputtering in protest before coming to life, the same half-empty fridge reminding me that I should really start grocery shopping like an adult.

Everything had resumed as normal.

And yet—

I found myself standing in my bedroom, suitcase still half-unpacked, as if some part of me refused to fully settle back into my routine. My fingers ran absentmindedly over the plush pretzel sitting on my bed, its soft, squishy loops an absurd but strangely comforting reminder of the past weekend.

I wasn’t supposed to still be thinking about him.

I wasn’t supposed to be replaying conversations in my head, breaking apart the way he had looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, the small shifts in his expression, the casual, almost careless way he had handed me that bag with the Jellycat and the pretzel, as if it hadn’t meant anything at all.

I let out a frustrated sigh, squeezing the plush against my chest like it was somehow responsible for all of this.

“You’re not helping,” I muttered at it.

Unsurprisingly, the Jellycat did not have a response.

I groaned, flopping onto my bed and burying my face into my pillow, as if that would somehow smother my thoughts into submission.

This was ridiculous.

I was being ridiculous.

I had gone to Munich with a very specific reason—to see someone who had ultimately proved to be unworthy of my time. But somehow, I had left with something else entirely.

A new inside joke. A new routine. A new, completely inconvenient way my stomach flipped whenever I got a text notification.

Which was precisely why I should not have reached for my phone just now.

But I did.

And when I turned it over—

There it was.

A new message.

From Kenan.

I hesitated for a beat, my thumb hovering over the screen, already knowing that whatever it said would only make things worse for me.

Then, finally, I clicked it open.

Kenan: Buy a nice winter coat.

I frowned, sitting up slightly as I typed back.

Me: Why?

The reply came almost instantly, as if he had been waiting for me to answer.

Kenan: I’m playing in the Netherlands next Wednesday.

Another message followed before I even had time to process the first.

Kenan: I need you to see how much better I am than Jamal, obviously.

I stared at my screen, my heart doing a very, very inconvenient thing, something warm and fluttery and deeply annoying settling into my chest.

I didn’t respond right away.

Because I already knew what I was going to do.

I was going.

[mamawasatesttube]

superboy (1994) #8

"It, uh... it kinda goes on forever, doesn't it?"

[lukolabrainrot]

Calm theory anon here again!! Lord knows I'm exhausted of this little girl but I wanted to touch on what all we have seen since Italy Birthday trip and Lukes recent like. 1. It was reported by someone who took a photo with Luke at the airport that he was alone. Meaning he flew back by himself. Rumor that he left two days before 2. We got radio silence from the group for a while. 3. Rory unfollowed sienna then it was reported on by the fan pages and then he followed her back. 4. Sienna unfollowed Jack Vine (this is the guy that Luke stays with when he didn't have a house) then it was reported on by the fan pages and she followed him back. The last couple days she's unfollowed him again. 5. Charmaine reposted on TikTok about NDA👀 6. Rory takes a trip with his mom. 7. Sienna likes a post of Hannah Dodd and Nicola from fashion week. 8. Sienna hasn't liked any type of photos of A since early August nor did she like that last Luke post. Now with all this information I'm sure we all can come up with some conclusions. I do think that Luke set up some type of NDA which in my opinion was necessary. We have to remember that Luke's management team is actually a very well-known and establish team this was told to me by people in the PR field. He doesn't have newbies. Now I'm sure that pissed a lot of his friends off. It made them keep quiet about things that they might not have wanted to be quiet about. We clearly see something going on. Now Luke liking A stuff. it was 10 1/2 hours after she posted on her grid with a story posted after four hours of the photos being live. Now the posting to her stories of the grid picture is a new thing. That didn't start till after Italy. What does that tell me? She knows that his notifications for her has been probably turned off. So in order for him to see her photos, she would have to post it in her story which he most likely watches those. This particular photo wasn't liked until after Nicola posted at the concert. I don't believe in coincidences. He got a notification that Nicole posted. Then he went online afterwards watching Nicola story. Now who to say it's not part of his NDA that he has with her that. But as I was thinking about all of this today, one of the interviews that Nic and Luke came to mind. When they were discussing red flags. And one of the questions was keeping up with an ex. Nic said something like I feel that how you speak of your ex says a lot about you or something like that. Remember, Luke listens to every single thing that Nikola has said. She's the one person in this world that he remembers how they met down to the chairs they had sat on. So he would remember stuff like this. So it could be an NDA thing or it could be him trying to be civil with his ex. Regardless of the like which does not tell you anything. The only thing that tells me is she is desperate for that like. She has to put it in her story so that he will see it, she wants that like so bad that she's doing something she never had to do before. Why does she want the like so bad? Because she can control the fandom. Every time Luke likes this girls picture people spiral. it's like on a photo. He's not commenting on it. He's not giving her heart eyes. He's not sharing it to his stories. He liked the picture. We don't know the reason why and we will never know. All I'm saying there is a lot going on BTS that's clearly evident by how they're all moving. We just gotta wait for Nicola to speak more. Remember, her voice should always outshine this girl's voice. Nicola has given us all hints that something more is happening. Let's trust her please

As always, love your thoughts and theories!

Here are some additional theories/thoughts I have about the SM events from today. Disclaimer: These are just my thoughts and interpretations based on all the publicly available information I have seen recently. So please do not take this as 100% fact!

N didn't post her Chappell Roan story until almost midnight her time

L THEN preceded to like A's post approximately 30 minutes after N's CR story- which at that point was technically the day AFTER A made her post

So my little delulu theory is that N went home to L after the concert with her besties, they cuddled up and caught up, N posted her story, this made L log on to IG and prompted him to do his obligatory like of miss A's post after seeing A's story

Some additional notes/thoughts:

Even if N DIDN'T go home to L, all of the available information Calm Theory Anon and I have laid out here tells me this. L DOES NOT HAVE NOTIFICATIONS ON FOR A AND IS NOT PAYING ATTENTION TO WHAT SHE IS POSTING. L IS DOING THIS WITH N THOUGH.

He also liked A's post within a really short time of N's CR story. Now, the only thing this definitively says is that L/N were on their IG accounts around the same period of time. But this was around 12:30 AM their time. It was pretty late at night, and like it's just an interestingggg coincidence if L/N were separate and just both getting on SM around the same time at that time at night. We also know N tends to go on SM when she is getting ready for bed (N has said this). And she posted the CR story around the time she most likely was getting home from the concert. I think there are just a lot of signs/clues pointing that L/N were together around midnight their time. And L was NOT at the CR concert, so that means she would have met up with L AFTER the concert. And if she was meeting L after the concert at that time at night, they were probably with each other the rest of the night. So this is what leads me to believe that N went home to L OR L got the notification for N's story and got on SM and saw A's story. The timing of it all is just very interestingggg to me 🤔

Lastly, A had to essentially BEG L for this like. Why does L still have to like her posts? I have no definitive answer. My thoughts are it's some sort of contractual agreement. Regardless, these likes have no direct indication of L/A's relationship BTS. If I look at the full picture of EVERYTHING, all the signs indicate that L/N are spending more time together (or just since August decided to start publicly hinting to the fandom that they are spending a lot of time together). And all the signs point to L/A not being on good terms, and that there was some sort of rupture in L's friend group around the Italy bday trip.

These are just my thoughts though. What does everyone else think?

[httpsdana]

do you write for musiala? if so, can you do something like enemies to lovers, they are forced to spend time together because of mutual friends, but they constantly fight, secretly like each other<3 ty

Cupid in Bali~Jamal Musiala

I might start putting pictures like these instead of the gifs cuz they're prettier. also first Jamal fic hope you enjoy <3 long fic ahead.

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers I write for

All these characters are made up and not real!!!

The Characters: Jason & Leah, Ethan & Serena, Tyler & Emma, Carlos & Abigail, and Jamal & y/n

"I'm on my way. are you done?" Leah said through the phone to y/n.

"I am, I'll be waiting for you" y/n replied, walking her suitcase into the elevator. Her bag was on her back and she was in some comfortable clothes for the very long trip ahead of them.

They were gonna be a group of 10, 5 girls and 5 boys. Funny thing is how all of them were in couples, except for y/n and Jamal. Of course people will say that they go along very well, which was the most inaccurate thing to be said about those two. They were basically enemies.

y/n exited the elevator, and stood outside waiting for her friend that was gonna take her to the airport. It only took 2 minutes for Leah to arrive, but not alone. She had her boyfriend, Jason, in the passenger seat, and Jamal...in the backseat.

y/n rolled her eyes, opening the rear of the car and placing her suitcase and bag there, then opening the backdoor, sitting next to Jamal.

"hey guys" she said as soon as she sat in her seat. Both Leah and Jason greeted her back, while Jamal just rolled his eyes and huffed.

y/n ignored his presence, while the drive to the airport was silent.

~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~

"Okay guys, so as you know we have a very long trip ahead of us. Our first stop will be in the United Arab Emirates. From there, we have to take another plane to Singapore. After landing in Singapore, we will stay in the same plane, and leave for Bali. About 7 hours between Germany and the Emirates, then 7 hours between the Emirates and Singapore, and about an hour and a half between Singapore and Bali" Tyler explained, while everyone listened.

It was going to be a very long trip. Everyone checked in and got in their seats. And lucky for y/n, her seat was on the window.

"you've got to be kidding me" y/n heard, so she looked up, seeing the guy she was planning on avoiding the whole trip so she can have a good time. Jamal.

"what is it now?" she rolled her eyes at him, only for him to sit down next to her.

"your seat is here?" she said, already knowing his answer. He huffed and nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. She let out a sigh, knowing it's gonna be a very long trip.

~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~

The first part of the trip was a bit quiet. Jamal didn't speak much and y/n was just watching a couple of movies she had. When she finished her movies, they still had about 20 minutes to land in the Emirates.

She was getting bored, and started moving a bit in her seat. Jamal, who has been trying to sleep, all the trip looked at her annoyed.

"Can you stop moving " he complained. She let out a sigh, sliding down in her seat

"I'm bored" she mumbled.

"now that you have nothing to do you're complaining? I've been trying to sleep for 6 hours but I didn't say a word." he rolled his eyes, before closing them and trying to fall asleep again.

"we land in a while I don't think it's a good time to sleep" y/n pointed out, making him sigh

"better than hearing your voice till we land" he said rudely. y/n was taken back a bit by his response, but only looked away from him and to the window, where the sun was setting in a beautiful way.

She ignored him for the rest of the time until they landed. After they landed, everyone got their bags and met each other.

Some got food, and others got coffee, until it was time to get on the plane again. Another 6 to 7 hours to Singapore. This time y/n was sat next to one of her friends, Abigail, where they talked for a bit then went to sleep as it was almost midnight.

~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~

When they landed in Bali, it was almost 4 am in the morning, meaning that they were going to sleep more before starting their vacation.

"I'm sorry y/n, but you're gonna have to share a room with Jamal" Tyler said, making y/n sigh. She knew that all the girls wanted to sleep with their boyfriends, but she thought that maybe one of them would sacrifice the sleep with her boyfriend so y/n wouldn't sleep in the same room with Jamal. I guess not.

She let out a sigh, nodding her head. She had no energy to argue with any of them, nor did she have the energy to stay standing. She just wanted some sleep.

Jamal noticed her tired figure, so he took their room key and helped her carry her bags.

"I'll take her to our room, good night everyone" Jamal said, before walking behind y/n with both of their bags.

Everyone looked at each other, confused by Jamal's nice behavior towards y/n, but they were secretly happy that the two might actually get over whatever problems were between them.

Meanwhile, Jamal and y/n had reached their room, and already got in. y/n was almost asleep while walking, unaware of whatever was happening.

"y/n? are you gonna change before sleeping?" Jamal asked her, while she was walking to one of the beds. She dropped on one of them already asleep.

Jamal let out a sigh, walking to her and taking off her shoes. She was wearing comfortable clothes, so he decided to let her be.

~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~

The next day arrived pretty quick as everyone was tired the previous night. The girls went shopping in the day, while the boys hung out together for a while. At night, they all decided to visit a club and party at the beach. At the end of the day, they were in Bali and every night was a party.

"Ready you guys? we are about to have the best first night in Bali!" Serena cheered, making all the girls cheer with her.

They were getting ready in Leah's room, and after they finished, they walked out all dolled up while their boys were waiting for them.

Each of the girls held the hand of her boyfriend, and started walking out of the hotel, leaving Jamal and y/n alone.

He looked her up and down, making her think he was going to comment about how she looks like always.

"you look nice" he said, taking her by surprise. She expected him to speak something mean, but he did the opposite.

"oh thanks" she mumbled, looking down at her sandals that suddenly seemed more interesting.

"well...we have to get going" Jamal said, putting his hand out for her. She looked at his hand suspiciously, making him sigh.

"let's just have a nice trip and not ruin it for anyone" he said, making her sigh but nod too.

"you're right. we should just get over our problems for our friends" She took his hand and walked behind the others, who already reached the party without them.

As soon as they stepped onto the beach where the party was, Jamal was pulled by Carlos who took him to where the boys were, leaving y/n alone. She pushed through the sweaty bodies, until she reached the bar where her friends stood.

"y/n, you took so long, we were just looking for you" Emma said, turning everyone's attention at her. She coughed awkwardly before speaking.

"um me and Jamal just talked for a bit" she said, looking away quickly.

"you two talked? about what exactly" Abigail asked, while everyone else looked at y/n waiting for an answer.

"nothing important, just that we should have fun on the trip" she shrugged, making the girls smile

"finally you two made up, it was about time" Leah said.

They ordered their drinks and started their own party. As the girls were dancing, y/n stood at the bar with her drink, just looking around the dance floor, until her eyes landed on Jamal, except he wasn't alone but with a girl next to him. They were talking and laughing seeming close.

For some reason her heart sank as she watched him laughing with another girl. A mix of jealousy and hurt clouded her thoughts. Despite their constant bickering, seeing him with someone else stirred unexpected emotions within her, making her feel a strange mix of emotions she couldn't quite understand.

She looked away immediately, afraid he might see her watching them and making fun of her. She turned to speak with one of her girls, only to see them all on the dance floor with their boyfriends.

She let out a sigh and turned to the bartender, refilling her drink. She took a huge sip, feeling herself loosen up a bit. Suddenly the music slowed down, and some people left the dance floor as couples started dancing in a slow dance.

y/n always felt lonely as a person who never had someone. But when she's with her friends they always made her feel included. However, this trip was different. The girls wanted to spend time with their boyfriends, and y/n could never blame them. They didn't have to cancel their plans, so she doesn't feel left out.

For some reason, her eyes drifted to where Jamal and that girl were, to see if they were dancing together or not. Instead, she didn't see them. Her eyes started scanning the place in panic, not seeing any of them anywhere.

"y/n" a voice from behind her startled her. She turned around to see Jamal standing there, his charming smile present on his face. He barely smiled at her as they're always arguing.

A small smile found y/n's face without noticing, as she saw the handsome boy standing in front of her.

"Jamal" she said in a low voice, feeling a relief wash over her.

"Would you like to dance with me?" his voice soft and a hint of nervousness in his eyes.

Y/n, touched by his shyness, smiled warmly and replied, "I'd love to dance with you, Jamal."

Jamal then extended his hand to y/n, leading her to the center of the dance floor with a gentle smile. Placing one hand on her waist and holding her other hand in his, they began to move gracefully to the music.

Their bodies swayed in harmony, creating a magical moment between them.

Their dance was delicate, each step was like a silent conversation between their hearts.

Jamal's touch was both reassuring and tender, guiding y/n with a sense of care and understanding.

As they moved across the dance floor, their bodies swayed in perfect harmony, lost in the enchanting melody that filled the air. The warmth of their embrace and the closeness of their dance spoke volumes, expressing more than words ever could.

It was a moment frozen in time, a dance of forgiveness, understanding, and newfound connection.

Their eye contact was intense. None of them daring to break it. As the dance was coming to an end, Jamal decided to speak up.

"I'm sorry for everything I've done and said for the past like 2 years. It was never my intention to make you hate me" he said in a gentle voice, making her smile

"it's okay. I've said some things too and I'm sorry about that. I just eneve understood why you hated me" she chuckled, making him shake his head

"i never hated you y/n. It just bothered me so much back then how you were close to everyone and we never talked. so i figured bickering and arguing with you would be the only way I can talk you because I really like you y/n and just wanted to talk to you in any way. And looking back at it now it wasn't the best way to approach you" he said laughing slightly making y/n laugh too

"obviously it wasn't. I just hope we can move past that because I like you too Jamal" she said, making him smile

"of course y/n. I wouldn't have asked for a dance if I didn't want us to start over" he said

She smiled back at him, leaning her head on his chest as they still swayed to the music. He pressed a small kiss on the top of her head, tightening his grip around her.

Their friends watched them from afar, realizing that their plan of getting them to make up has worked better than they thought it will.

[o7k5a8m9i]

Day 9 • ~ Romantic getaway | Kuwabara x Yukina

{"Romantic getaway"} Ship: Kuwabara x Yukina✨

{~ A/N! Hi! so Here's YET another Oneshot! 😭 I know I'm writing a lot... but I'm trying to get better!💕 I've actually had this idea in the back of my mind for awhile^^ Also! I'm not sure if a Honeymoon is considered a Romantic getaway but I consider it as one! so that's what I'll be Working with! ALSO!!! if any of this seems weird it's because this is part of my Fanfiction "A Cozy Home" Which In case you're wondering I HAVE NOT posted yet!😭 sorry! but yeh this takes place 3 years into the future! ok enjoy!~💝}

×WARING! This story has other ship's if you can't tell Yusuke x Keiko! is one of them and there's a OC Yusuke and Keiko's son Yunoke. I have a Lot more yyh future kids but only one will be in this story^^ but it's Not About Them!! it's about Kuwabara and Yukina!! also Hiei's already told Yukina he's her Brother! I want a happy sibling moment!×

[4 days after their wedding they decided where to go for their honeymoon... Hawaii! Yukina was very Excited! Kuwabara and Yukina had been Staying at Kurama's house (*AKA Genkai's house! idk why but I decided to make him take over her house!*) and now it was Time to go!✨ they said their goodbyes to their friends and family before they got into the car and drove off to the airport!]

Yusuke: So how long will you guys be gone again?

Kuwabara: A week^^ (*smile*)

Yusuke: Ohhhh~ I week to yourselves~ Have fun~ (*sly smile*)

Kuwabara: (*Blushes*) ShUt Up UrAmEsHi!!//

Keiko: (*slaps Yusuke!*) Yusuke be quiet! (*holding Yunoke their son*)

Yusuke: Geez! that hurt!!

Keiko: Want some more...?️️👁️👁️ (*hands Yunoke to Botan*)

Yusuke: Nope nevermind...°°

Botan: Buttttttttt Anyway! you guys have a great time ok!^^ (*smile!*)

Yukina: Thanks Botan we will^^ (*looks over at Hiei*)

Yukina: Goodbye brother...

Hiei: Bye...

Mukuro: (*slaps Hiei!*) Give her a ACTUALLY goodbye!

Hiei: Fine Woman! I'll do it! (*goes over to Yukina and hugs her. a genuine hug*)

Yukina: Oh°°

Hiei: Goodbye sis...I ....(*he tries fighting the urge to say it*) Love you..

Yukina: (*Hugs him back*) I love you too brother!^^

Shizuru: Take care baby bro just don't pull anything.. (*smirk*)

Kuwabara: Why would you say that!? I won't ok!!... oh yeh Sis take good care of Eikichi!!

Shizuru: For the 10th Time today I Will!! your to worried about it! I'll take good care of her

Kuwabara: Ok I trust you...️️..👁️👁️

Kurama: Not to rush you anything but your flight leaves at 5:57am and it's 5:00am already°°

Kuwabara: Oh crap! we got a 30 minute drive to!! Okay everybody Goodbye!! (*grabs Yukina and jumps I'm the car*)

Everyone: BYE!!!

Yukina: (*Sticking her head out the window as they drive away*) Bye!!

Kurama: I hope they make it on time...

Shizuru: they will.

[After HOURS of flying Kuwabara and Yukina landed in Hawaii it was late at night and the first thing they wanted to do was...... GO TO SLEEP!! they were exhausted this was Both there first time on a plane. so they checked into the hotel, loaded in their luggage, took a shower and change their clothes and then they FINALLY got to sleep!! they woke up the next morning Excited for they're Time at the beautiful Hawaii!☀️]

Yukina: This is beautiful isn't it!

Kuwabara: Not as beautiful as You!! (*simp mode activate*)

Yukina: Oh Kazuma^^ (*gives him a kiss on the cheek*)

{•°END!°•} A/N Hi so ok I Know over HALF of this FANFIC was about them saying goodbye but I just don't know how to write people on Vacation! maybe I'll try to rewrite this sometime but anywho! also I know it was weird to include Mukuro but she's Yukina's friend and Hiei Girlfriend! she had to be here! (NO hate please ) Also in case you have questions let me know!!

@yyh-revival (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤ Hi... Are my submission's good so far? I feel like I'm the only one who Joined 💝

[trulyyours-rune]

YOU’RE LITERALLY FEEDING US MALE READERS 😔

i was wondering if you could make a sub bill x dom male reader 😭 bills just been a little tease to the reader and the reader is getting annoyed and he knows how to teach him a lesson?

i’m obsessed with submissive bill..🫢

I'M SO SORRY FOR LEAVING Y'ALL. I just had a massive writing block and all. But boy didn't you guys fill my inbox 🤭

(Also thank you for specifying when sub or Dom I always stress abt it 💀)

Warnings: Male reader, smut, I suck at writing smut, public sex, mirror sex, pet names, language, read what you're comfortable with.

Bill Kaulitz x Male Reader

Hell. Absolute hell.

It was 3 in the goddamn morning, and you felt gross. You haven't showered and you're still in your pajamas. (Bonus points for comfy clothes) The plane left at 5 in the morning for it being a 8 hour flight.

You and the band didn't want to deal with paparazzi and big crowds at the moment. You were even surprised the airport was even open. The place was silent and it seemed that you guys we're the only ones here besides staff.

You all sat down in that waiting area, in the uncomfortable supposed to be so called "cushioned" seats, it only felt like concrete. Felt like someone kicked you in the ass, twice.

Bill was in the seat next to you, but he was leaning over and his arms draped over you. He was exhausted, obviously not a morning person. His hair wasn't really styled and more flat, he also wore your hoodie to remain warm. (Fuck it, he always has to be wearing either something you got him, or he just stole naturally.)

Your arm was wrapped around him, he was nearly half asleep but he couldn't bring himself too. He needed something to wake him up. He knew how to.

_______

3:28 A.M.

Georg was nearly asleep, his head nodding as his eyes open on and off. Tom with his head tossed back and eyes closed. There was Gustav, who seemed awake since 1873 and somehow sane.

"Y/n, schatz?" "Hm?" You hummed in response, Bill's voice was tired and soft. "Can we please go to the bathroom?" He asked, his voice slightly muffled from his face now in your neck.

"Not now, love." You sighed out, it was 3:30 after all. Bill got upset, hugging himself tighter to you. It wasn't long until he started to roam his hands on your body.

His hand trailed to your thigh, rubbing it gently. He knew what he was doing. You knew what he was doing, and to your surprise. It was working.

_______

That was probably how you two ended up in the bathroom, what other honest excuse was there?

Bill held muffled moans against your mouth, both having a tired messy make out session. It was way lazier than when you guys were either actually awake or drunk.

It was around 4, so people would start to spill into the airport, so you both needed to be fast. Move prep for another day, cause surely ain't gonna happen. You pressed Bill against the counter, and turned him over. His crotch against the counter, begging for attention.

You kissed his neck from behind, Bill's hands on the counter to keep him up. You tugged at Bill's pants, sliding them down with ease. His pants pooled at his ankles, and he let out a soft groan.

You kissed at his neck again, and slightly put pressure onto Bill's back, making the upper half of him lay against the counter.

You pulled down his boxers, they also fell down his legs. You bent back a bit, to see if anyone was coming. No one was, so you slid down your pants along with your boxers as well.

You tapped his inner thigh, and he spread his legs a bit. You wasted no time, and entered him slowly.

(I'm disappointed in myself, and I'm sure God is too.)

His fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms as he bit his lip to hold back the flow of moans.

You rocked your hips back and forth, slowly but the pace got quicker with each second. He put his hands over his mouth, elbows balancing him up and his back arched. He could see himself in the mirror, and you behind him.

Bill felt adrenaline rush through his body, and he nearly rolled his eyes back. Your pace got more sloppier, and your grip on his waist grew a bit tighter, but tight enough to leave marks.

You both were close, so close. Just a little more and...

"Mmmf!"

Bill moaned into his hands.

_______

You both got cleaned up, which was fairly quick. You both didn't feel as tired, but more of adrenaline.

You both walked out, hand in hand. You both had your hair a bit messed up.

You sat down and Gustav looked at you two, he known what you guys done, but he's not gonna question.

You and Bill had better sex before, you even had the scratch marks on your back from last night to prove it.

_______

Hiiii, I'm sorry I've been gone for long 😭 and I'm sorry the end was really short, but I'm so tired that every paragraph had 10 grammar errors.

But enough of me whining, get good sleep unlike me <3

[theroseceleste]

Pilot Miguel - Part 11 - My Hero

Miguel seems to be in a bit of a mood and a celebrity passenger only seems to worsen it. However, all problems have to be put aside in an emergency situation.

Buy me a coffee! (And gain access to my discord)

Word count - 4172

Minors DNI

If you don't want spoilers, don't read the 'contains' bit below.

Contains : Jealous behaviour, flight incident - bird ingestion / engine failure, emergency landing - no casualties. Smut : Fingering, mutual masturbation, penetrative sex.

Enjoy! xx

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

There’s excitement in the staff lounge at Adolfo Suárez Madrid-Barajas airport. A celebrity is going to be on your flight and obviously, you’ll be serving him in first-class. Sergio Velasquez, who is only just the handsomest actor in the film industry; nominated for many Oscars and seemingly the nicest man in the world.

You and Miguel turn up in the staff lounge, on a rare occasion where he flies you back to Nueva York after having flown you to Madrid just a couple of days before.

The last forty-eight hours have once again been magical and you have enjoyed spending time with your man, wandering around the city and making mad, passionate love together in your hotel room.

“Oh my God, oh my God…” you mutter under your breath excitedly when you hear about Sergio Velasquez.

Miguel looks down at you, as he thrusts his phone into his pocket.

“What’s the matter?” he asks you, looking slightly irritated, but not at you.

You stare back up at him.

“Sergio Velasquez… You know; charming actor, famous, really nice guy…”

Your tone almost sounds dreamy as you imagine what meeting him is going to be like.

Miguel huffs in a disinterested manner.

“So what?”

You blink at him in surprise, but it’s clear that Miguel really does not understand what all the excitement is about.

“Just another passenger to me…”

Rolling your eyes slightly at him, you scoff.

“So what? He’ll be the first celebrity passenger I’ve ever served, and the one I’ve been most keen to meet.”

“Ahh, well, you know what they say, (Y/N). Never meet your heroes,” Peter interrupts as he steps into the conversation.

“Peter!” you cry out happily and give him a hug.

So much has happened since you last saw the co-pilot and you’re thrilled to see him. He always makes your flights interesting and full of good humour.

“Hey Migs, how are you doing? Good to see you again,” Peter says as he holds his hand out to the Captain who audibly groans upon hearing the name ‘Migs’.

He reluctantly takes Peter’s hand and shakes it.

“Let me guess, Lyla told you that nickname?”

“Sure did!”

“Here’s some advice – forget the name.” Miguel replies as he lets go of Peter’s hand and adjusts his tie.

Despite having an amazing time with you for two days in Spain, it seems his mood has plummeted even lower than normal. You notice he’s received a few texts which you feel troubles him.. And now his mood has worsened at the mention of the celebrity. Is he… jealous?

Peter shrugs and moves on to say hello to another member of the cabin crew, leaving you alone with Miguel once more.

“You’re not - jealous are you babe?” you whisper quietly so only he can hear.

He scoffs as he raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous of Sergio Velasquez?”

He’s totally jealous…

“Okay, so Migs is a ‘no-go’ for you, so what can I call you?” Peter asks as he takes his seat on the right of the cockpit.

Most of Miguel’s attention is on the weather report. Decent conditions are forecast until approaching Nueva York in the evening.

“Checks, Parker.”

“Checks? That’s an odd name-“

“Tch…” he tuts, “not my name! Do. Your. Checks!”

Peter goes red in the face, partially out of embarrassment but also frustration. No one struggles warming up to him, so why is Captain O’Hara being super prickly?

Without another word he does his once-over checks on his side of the controls. Everything looks in good working order.

Miguel is now reading the plane’s log-book. Once again, a squeaky clean history. No issues or malfunctioning equipment. Feeling satisfied, he stuffs the book back where he found it.

“You can call me Miguel,” he finally responds to Peter, unable to shake off feeling a little bad about his outburst earlier.

Since his recent contact with Xina, and her persistent pestering, he feels a little on edge most of the time.

“Miguel - nice name,” Peter replies with a compliment, but it doesn’t match his usual warmth.

The Captain frowns. He’s finally managed to shut Flight Officer Parker up, but at what cost? Then he casts his mind to you while he does his equipment checks. He wonders what you’re doing and if you’ve met Sergio Velasquez.

“Good afternoon Mr Velasquez, such an honour to be serving you today,” you stutter ever so slightly as you greet the actor you’ve liked for quite a while now.

After taking a look at his ticket you show him to his seat and offer him a glass of champagne. He gives you a weak smile and he continues to wear his sunglasses despite being inside the plane.

“Thanks,” he mutters to you quietly as he takes the glass and makes himself comfortable.

Your immediate thought is that he’s probably faced a bunch of fans at the airport and simply wants some time to himself, which you can understand, of course.

There is a slight delay as it takes a while to get all passengers on board. Some are running late and have put everything on hold. During that time you check on the pilots to see if they need any quick refreshments before they’re committed to takeoff. Peter asks for water, but Miguel just shakes his head in response.

After a quick trip into the galley you return with a cup of water for Flight Officer Parker as the last few passengers come on board and put their bags in the overhead lockers.

“How’s Sergio?” your boyfriend asks with mock interest.

“Awww, you do care,” you tease Miguel, ruffling the back of his hair as Peter looks away to get his checklist ready.

“He’s alright - quiet. Not quite like how I expected.”

“Never meet your heroes,” Peter repeats from earlier, but you sense he’s in a mood now, too.

Silence fills the cockpit as you look at both of the pilots with a concerned frown.

“Is everything o—“

“Hello?”

You hear someone calling out near the entrance to the cockpit, grabbing your attention immediately.

“Shit, that’s him…” you mutter.

As you step away, Miguel opens his grumpy mouth to speak as he smooths over his now messy hair.

“Yes, you go deal with him.”

His words make both you and Peter look at him with a stunned expression. This is unlike him when you’re around…

Stepping back towards Miguel, you allow yourself to wrap your arms around his shoulders in front of Peter - you trust him. A quick, soft and tender kiss is delivered to his cheek, making him freeze on the spot, eyes fixed on the apparatus before him.

“Be good,” you whisper against his cheek while your hand strokes the other, immediately causing his heart to pound hard in his chest.

Pulling yourself away, you give a flabbergasted Peter a wink before leaving the cockpit to deal with Sergio.

Miguel can feel Peter’s eyes on him.

“Don’t even think about saying anything…”

Peter raises his hands placatingly.

“Absolutely. Staying out of this one.”

Despite not saying anything, he wonders just what has happened between the both of you since he last saw you in Acapulco. He hopes that Miguel treats you better than how he just did too.

“We need to start pre-flight checks…” Miguel mutters quietly in hope to get out of this awkward situation.

Despite still feeling your kiss on his skin and the sound of it lingering in his ear. An unignorable and uncomfortable squeezing around his heart continues. Jealousy is an ugly feeling and he hates the fact he’s behaving the way he is. It’s suffocating and heavy in his chest. He trusts you, but despises the fact that another man that gets you excited is receiving your attention right now…

You sigh as you finally strap yourself in the jump seat. Sergio has been giving you the runaround, whilst not being particularly pleasant about it either.

He asked for a new glass of champagne as his first drink was ‘too bubbly’ for his liking, and insisted that the cabin was too dark despite you telling him numerous times it was because he was still wearing his sunglasses. It’s safe to say you’re not looking forward to the rest of the flight, but feeling thankful for this respite as the plane begins its journey to the runway.

As you wait for the plane to take off, you hear the usual sound of passengers talking to their neighbours, a calm and peaceful atmosphere until the engines start to roar. You get thrusted forward a little more than usual out of your seat as your back faces the front of the plane.

You might be a little paranoid, but you can’t help but think Miguel’s foul mood is reflected in how the plane behaves. Perhaps he’s a little overzealous with the thrusters today?

The air above the runway shimmers in the heat as the Boeing-747 tears its way along it, engines screaming as all four of them push hard to get 397 tons at the right speed to take flight.

The familiar dropping sensation in your stomach tells you that all wheels have left the ground and the back of the plane looks like it’s at the bottom of an incredibly steep hill.

Inside the cockpit, both pilots are silent as they monitor the equipment. Miguel presses a switch that calls back the landing gear, stowing them away in the plane’s belly. A clunking sound indicates that the automatic doors have shut the wheels in.

Everything seems completely normal until the two men hear a loud bang, shaking the whole plane and making them flinch. Lights on the cockpit dashboard illuminate, highlighting that engine three is in total shut-down.

“Mierda!” (Shit!) Miguel yells as his mind runs rapidly, remembering the emergency landing procedure.

The bang is heard throughout the fuselage, followed by panicked screams and yelps of shock on the right hand side of the aircraft. Some passengers witness one of the four engines suffer a catastrophic failure. Flames burst out of the back, spurring chaos.

Your heart pounds as various thoughts rush through your mind all at once. What the hell has happened and if Miguel and Peter are okay?

If there is ever a time to panic, now is not it. After the initial shock, both pilots revert to their extensive training that got them here in the first place.

“Mayday, mayday, flight AA-1610 has suffered what we suspect is a bird ingestion in engine three. Requesting priority to circle round and land immediately.”

Peter sounds calm and collected as he radios the air traffic control tower. As he does this, Miguel levels the plane out to stop it from climbing any higher.

“Understood flight AA-1610, can you confirm you still have control of the aircraft?” a man in air traffic control asks.

“Yes, we can still control the aircraft,” Peter answers plainly.

“Okay, I will be advising all flights in the air and on the ground to hold until you land. And I will request the assistance from airport emergency services.”

Miguel has been given the all clear to land. He banks the plane in a gentle turn to loop back and approach the runway for an emergency landing.

Back in the cabin, you hear Miguel inform the passengers and crew of the emergency landing and suspected bird ingestion resulting in the engine failure. To your relief, he sounds unphased and calm. Unlike Sergio who has suddenly gone very pale and begun whimpering. You’re starting to see him in a new light, and it’s not very flattering…

Passengers try and peer out of their windows to try and see the engine. Thankfully they’re not screaming or yelling. It seems Miguel has done a good job not to incite panic with the passengers with his announcement.

You feel the plane tilt as it makes its final approach. As it lines up with the runway, other planes loop around higher in the sky as they wait to be cleared to land.

Another clunking sound is heard through the fuselage, causing the already nervous passengers to worry even more, but you know that is the sound of the landing gear lowering and locking into place.

As Miguel brings the plane lower towards the runway, he can see emergency vehicles poised to roll along after the aircraft, ready to assist if needed. Some of them are fire trucks and a few others are ambulances in case there are any casualties should things become dire.

Despite being down one engine, the plane is flying exceptionally well. It still handles perfectly to get them back down on the ground safely.

The landing gear connects with land as smoothly as he can make it. Flaps on the wings extended at the fullest setting to slow the plane down before taxiing off the runway.

Cheers and applause are heard throughout the cabin as passengers feel great relief to be back on terra-firma. You spot Sergio blubbering, pressing his hands together as if to thank God for surviving a traumatic experience.

Despite rolling your eyes at him, you, too, feel like crying, but out of sheer pride for Miguel and Peter for dealing with the situation so professionally and efficiently. Everyone is safe on the ground thanks to them and their ability to fly and remain calm in an otherwise stressful situation.

Thankfully, there is a spare gate for the damaged plane to park at. It is safe to go near the terminal as the flames on the engine went out on their own after it died completely.

All on board are going to have to re-enter the terminal to wait for another plane to be organised by AracnAir for their flight to Nueva York. Some passengers feel thankful to be alive, others know this is the beginning of a painful wait in the airport while things are re-organised.

You itch to see Miguel but you have to do your duties of saying goodbye to all passengers and assisting those who need help. Sergio takes his time to leave as his phone is blowing up after tweeting about nearly dying on a flight. It seems the drama extends beyond the films in which he plays… Yes, what happened is serious, but the plane can fly pretty well with one or two engines out - it’s just not advisable.

Finally, everyone is gone, including Sergio. You’re glad to see the back of him. Peter is right and you begin to wonder if he’s ever run into his hero and regretted it.

You loiter in the galley, pacing it with anticipation while your other colleagues have already left. You know better than to interrupt the pilots when they’re completing their final checklists, shutting the plane’s systems down safely.

Eventually, the cockpit door clicks open, and the brave pilots emerge. The Flight Officer holds up his hand for a high five but you plough into him for a friendly hug, surprising both him and Miguel.

“Well done, you,” you mutter to him, giving him a squeeze with your arms.

Peter pats his hand against your back, obviously touched by your sweet gesture.

“Thank you (Y/N),” replies as you release him and then turn to face Miguel.

“And you too…”

Your man catches you in his arms, holding you close in his embrace. Finally, a smile breaks across his lips.

“You both did amazing and I’m so proud of you.”

Peter can’t believe what he’s seeing. He’s not entirely sure he’s seen a smile that wide on Miguel’s face, he pinches himself to see if he’s dreaming - nope, definitely awake.

“I’ll uhh, leave you two to it…” Peter begins, but Miguel steps forward, still holding you with one arm.

“Wait.”

Flight Officer Parker glances back up to the Captain.

“Thank you, Peter. I’m glad I had you with me today. And…” he pauses for a second as he puts you back down. “I should probably apologise to both of you. I was being a dick earlier and, I’m sorry.”

“Water under the bridge,” Peter replies, he’s not the type to hold grudges.

He extends his arm and pats Miguel on the shoulder.

“I’ve got to go and call my wife - excuse me.”

The Captain nods and then looks down at you as Peter makes his way off of the plane. Miguel wraps his arm around you, keeping you close.

“Come on chiquita, I guess we have at least one more day in Madrid,” he whispers to you, despite you two being the only ones there.

As you both walk into the terminal through the gate, you’re completely alone. The rest of your colleagues are way ahead of you.

Miguel holds onto you tightly, his arm firm around your waist. There is no longer any care for if anyone does see the two of you. He wants people to know that you’re his, and he is yours. Sergio Velasquez’s presence did make him jealous, he admits that now - to himself. But also, before he knew it was the engine that got destroyed, his first thought was you after hearing the concerning sound that shook the aircraft. For a split second, he thought something awful happened to you. It seems strange that he felt relieved it was a catastrophic failure of an engine instead. In that moment, his mind prioritised you over four-hundred passengers and cabin crew.

He looks back through the large windows of the gate at the giant, wounded, metal bird. A darkened, charred engine hangs under the right wing. The damaged turbine, missing blades, while the remainders are twisted and warped. It reminds him just how much worse things could have been and he’s thankful that he and Peter worked together like a well oiled machine to bring the plane safely back to the airport.

There’s a bathroom ahead along the corridor leading back to customs. After what has happened, he’s left feeling the urgent need to shower you with love. To make up for his jealous behaviour earlier.

With a quick glance around to check that you both are truly alone, he pulls you into the bathroom with no warning. You squeal at the sudden change of direction but you don’t complain when you find yourself shut in the room, alone with him. His lips against yours in a matter of seconds and his hands roaming your body as though he has never touched you before.

“Necesito tenerte, ahora,” (I need to have you, now) he whispers against your lips, his breath shaking with overwhelming need.

He takes your breath away with his urgency. You feel the bathroom door press against your back and you hear him sliding the lock into place.

“People will hear when they walk past,” you gasp out as he pulls the hem of your skirt up over your hips.

“I don’t care…” he moans as his fingers massage your clit through your panties.

Your moan follows soon after as you open your legs slightly to allow him better access.

“Lo siento chiquita…” Miguel groans against your lips.

“What for?” you ask breathlessly, brows knitting together as pleasure rushes around your body.

Eventually his fingers find the edge of your panties and pull them to one side. Running the tips of his digits against your aroused entrance.

“I lied,” he pauses to kiss you on the lips. “I was jealous.” Another kiss is planted on your cheek. “I trust you.” Another kiss against your neck. “I just didn’t like that Sergio was getting your attention.”

Now it all makes sense. You’re not mad at him. He was rude to you, yes, but he’s apologised for it. You can even understand him, remembering the times when your female colleagues were practically salivating over him. It feels like a punch in the gut, even though he never entertained the thought of being with anyone else.

His fingers plunge inside of you, making you tip your head back in pleasure and almost cry out at the sensation of his warm fingers massaging you.

It’s irresistible, you can’t help but grind yourself against his hand, seeking more contact against your clit and a deeper reach of his fingers.

“Ride my hand, that’s it chiquita,” me murmurs against your lips again as you hear the clinking of his belt buckle.

“I want you nice and wet for me.”

His fingers reach deeper, as the heel of his palm rubs against your swelling, sensitive bud. The words he uses and his actions always get you aroused - without fail.

As you remain pressed against the bathroom door, you see that he’s unfastened his belt and unzipped his pants. Reaching forward, your fingers tug on the taut hem of his boxer briefs and pull them down, his twitching cock springs free, pre-cum already beading at the tip.

“Mmmm… touch me there, por favor…”

His hand guides yours to his length, wrapping your fingers around it and pulls it up and down to get you started.

“Like that baby, sí…” he moans as his hips thrust forwards gently.

You feel his digits pump into you harder, desperate to get you ready, although he doesn’t think you’re far off.

The bathroom is soon full of yours and his moans of pleasure as you mutually play with one another. He breathes deeply as if he’s trying to control himself. Champing at the bit to take you, to fuck you, to make love to you.

Your lips part wider as a gasp escapes your mouth. He pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty before he grabs you under your ass and lifts you up. There’s a thud against the door as he presses you against it, preparing to fill you with his throbbing shaft.

“I need to be inside you, baby…”

His words are practically spoken into your mouth as he kisses and talks at the same time. Feeling fogged with need, he doesn’t know what action to stop and what to start. All that he does know is that he needs to feel you wrapping around him, clenching on his dick.

He lets you slide down the door slightly until he’s able to thrust into you, filling and stretching you instantly.

“Miguel~!” you squeal before covering your mouth.

“Say it, say my name, I don’t care who hears us…”

The door bangs as he pumps into you. At first, you’re on edge; worried who might hear, but when he starts hitting the right spot inside you, all your worries fade away. Care and concern seeps out of you as all you can think about is him panting in your ear, fucking you harder as each minute goes by.

“Fuck! So good!”

He grits his teeth and grunts into your ear. His fingers dig into your flesh as he holds you under your thighs.

Your hand finds the door handle for something to hold onto. His thrusts are beginning to push you over the edge.

“Baby - I’m gonna…” you gasp as he pumps even harder, those bangs getting louder.

“Yes! That’s it. I’m not far behind-” Grunt.

Your world comes crashing down, in the best way possible. Ecstasy consumes your body, washing over you like a tidal wave and you tumble along with it, following the flow it pushes you in. You’re lost to the feeling of him inside you, to his sounds vibrating in your ear and his hot breath against your neck.

Finally his body shudders hard as he groans, the ultimate pleasure overwhelming him too. He slows his movements and rests his head against yours.

“Two days with you isn’t enough chiquita,” he mumbles, trying to catch his breath.

“I need more…”

You nuzzle against him as you recover. Your legs wrapped around him, holding him still inside you.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, chiquita, I want us to go away on holiday. Where I can have you all to myself, somewhere sunny and warm so I can see you dressed in nothing but bikinis and pretty dresses.”

Your teeth bite down on your lip as you listen to his answer. A retreat sounds perfect.

“Where do you have in mind?” you eventually ask as you feel him prepare to pull out and lower you to the floor.

“I hear Tenerife this time of year is great.”

The both of you get yourselves cleaned up and fix your clothing.

“So, was it good to meet Sergio?” Miguel asks, as he does up his zip.

You give a shrug while you roll your skirt back down your thighs and smooth over the material.

“Peter’s right. Never meet your heroes.”

A quizzical eyebrow raises at your response. He can’t deny feeling a lot happier hearing this.

“Besides, I have a new hero now.”

The quizzical eyebrow is joined by another, completing a more surprised expression on his face.

“Oh? And who might that be?”

You lean into him, pulling on his shirt to get him down to your level.

“You’re my hero…”

I hope you enjoyed part 11!

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[unhappycylinder]

Gonna Be Trouble (Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Fem!Reader) Pt. 8

wc: 3.3k

Warnings: Jake being an idiot, cursing, Gabby and Rooster being adorable,

Series Masterlist

“Gabby I just don’t know what to do,” you sobbed into the phone, “I know he said that stuff to push me away, I know it's not how he really feels, but what kind of person can say that to someone they love? He probably doesn’t even love me…”

“Y/n don’t say that,” Gabby’s comforting voice brought more tears to your eyes, “you know he loves you, we all do, but you gotta remember its Hangman we’re talking about. He doesn’t know how to love someone this much. He’s from Texas, he doesn’t know how to have feelings.”

You laughed, wiping away your tears that had pooled in the crease of your nose, “very fair.”

“I’m so sorry he did this…” Gabby stuttered, “I have no idea why. We talked to him just the same day he called you, like literally hours before, and he told Rooster that he believed in you guys…”

That only made you sob harder, “then which one is it?” You coughed, the emotions overloading you to the point you thought you might throw up.

“Sweetheart oh my god,” Gabby’s heart broke for you, and her blood ran cold thinking of Hangman and how he could hurt you like this, “I don’t think you should be alone right now”

“There’s nothing I can do about that Gabby. It’s a long weekend, I have no friends here who know anything about my personal life, I have no money to go anywhere, I’m stuck,” you ranted to her.

“Alright then I’m flying you down”

“What?” You squeaked, “Gabby you’re not doing that”

“Yeah I am,” she pulled out a computer and started typing, you just stared at her dumbfounded over the phone, “send me your TSA number honey, we’re getting you out of there”

“Gabby,” you ran your hands over your forehead, “a flight to San Diego would be like $400 this last minute, it's ridiculous. I’ll be fine, I’m not-”

“Y/n just hush. You’re my best friend, you need support, and I need to see you. Plus, my husband’s in the military, I get flight discounts, and I have access to his credit card and he’s gonna be away at sea so who’s gonna know”

“You’ve got this deployment thing down don’t you,” you laughed at her

“We’ve only been married a few months but I’ve been with this idiot for years, and not once has he questioned why thousands of dollars leave his bank account every time he goes away. Honestly I don’t think he’s smart enough to remember how much money he had before he left…” She rambled while she booked your flight, “Can you be at the airport at 6 tomorrow? Direct flight to San Diego at 8:30…Roo and I can pick you up?”

“Gabby, I mean this sincerely, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you smiled at her,

“Suffer…probably,” she giggled, making you laugh too.

“Thank you Gabby, you’re the best”

“I know I am,” she flipped her hair, “anyway I gotta go soak up some Rooster time before he leaves for forever…”

You giggled, “I don’t want to know details…I’ll see you tomorrow, love you!”

“Love you more, go get some sleep, and don’t forget about your flight please!”

You blew her a kiss before hanging up. Luckily, the emotions from Jake’s phone call had drained you for the day, and you fell asleep pretty easily after the talk with Gabby. After all, you had a flight to catch in the morning.

—

“You better give me a big hug right now,” Gabby said as she walked towards you, arms wide open, as you exited the airport and the warm California air hit your face. Your lip quivered at the sight of your best friend, your tired arm threatening to drop your duffel bag as you embraced her and let your tears flow.

“You’re okay sweetie, you’re here now,” Gabby comforted you as she ran her fingers through your hair

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” you sobbed out, “I’m so happy to be here”

“Awww, I know,” she pulled away and grabbed your face, the widest smile across hers.

“Ladies, this is cute and all,” Rooster yelled from the car, “but this is 5 minute parking and this pilot isn’t looking to get banned from the airport anytime soon…”

“Oh calm down pendejo,” Gabby grabbed your bag from you and threw it into the trunk of the car. 

Sliding into the back seat of the car, you caught Rooster’s apologetic gaze through the rear view mirror, the sorrow in his eyes nearly making you break down again.

“Still haven’t heard anything from Hangman?” He asked, the bronco slowly moving out of the line of cars waiting to pick up passengers.

“Ay!” Gabby exclaimed, slapping the back of his head.

“What?” Rooster threw a hand up in defense, hunching over the steering wheel to avoid his wife’s swing.

“Why the fuck would you ask that?” Gabby hissed before turning around to face you, “I’m sorry honey, Mexico did a number on his brain apparently,” she joked as she muttered curses in Spanish to herself. Gabby and Rooster had just returned from a short but sweet honeymoon in Mexico, of which you heard many….maybe too many…intimate tales.

“It’s okay,” you sighed, “um I haven’t heard from him.”

Gabby and Rooster shared a knowing glance.

“Not to keep making you guys play middleman but…have you heard anything?”

“Um…” they both said in unison while staring at each other.

“You can tell me, guys, I’m pretty sure I’d rather know than not.”

Rooster sighed before turning to his wife, who then turned back around to face you.

“I wasn’t gonna tell you this cause I didn’t want you to get anxious,”

Too late, you thought to yourself.

“Jake knows you’re here…”

“Oh?” You felt a punch in your gut, the feeling of anxiety creeping into your throat as Gabby watched you process, “does he-”

“It doesn’t matter what he wants,” Gabby placed her hand on your knee, “you’re here to relax, not appease him. We’ll answer any questions you have of course, but I want you to spend this weekend how you want to, no matter what, okay?”

You sighed, questions and concerns filling your mind, “Okay,” you shook your head. Relaxing was probably the last thing you could do right now.

—

“I think I need to see him,” you muttered as Gabby helped you put your toiletries away in the guest bathroom.

Gabby sighed, “okay, whatever you want, but do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t know, is it? Did he say anything about wanting to see me?” You reclined against the bathroom counter, arms folding across your chest.

“Of course he did, Y/n, he feels like shit for breaking up with you, I know he regrets it. Rooster said his flying’s been off the past couple days, says he’s been extra dangerous, whatever that means.”

“Shit,” you panicked at the thought of him burning in, “yeah I need to talk to him”

“I’ll call him then, let him know to come by?” Gabby asked, waiting for you to decide where you wanted to meet him.

“I think I’ll just walk to his place,” you said mindlessly.

“Babe that's like a mile from here, why would you do that?”

“Give myself time to think of what to say? Time to abort the mission?” You sighed, leaving the bathroom to begin your pilgrimage to Jake’s.

“Alright, well, let me know if you need us to pick you up. I love you!”

“Love you too, wish me luck,” you yelled from the stairwell before departing.

—

Hovering your fist over Jake’s door, reality finally hit and anxiety flooded your body as you contemplated what the hell you were doing at Jake’s door three days before he deployed. 

“Y/n what the fuck?” You whispered, fist returning to your side as you promptly marched down his driveway, praying he hadn’t noticed you there.

He had.

“Y/n?” A groggy voice muttered from behind you, the Texan drawl of the man you loved barely identifiable over your own whispers. Stopping dead in your tracks, the anxiety bubbled up once again and this time threatened tears from your eyes. With a deep breath you turned around to see him.

Jake stood shirtless in his doorway, grey sweatpants clinging to his hips, his hair spiked and disheveled. The home behind him was dark, no blinds open to let in the midday sun of San Diego, and likely no ventilation for the better part of the last couple days. His eyes blinked rapidly as he adjusted to the light, the hand not clasping the doorknob shielding his green orbs as he trailed up your figure.

“Hey,” you croaked, tears beginning to slowly track your cheekbones. You didn’t move at all, you stood static on his driveway, arms crossed in front of you in a shallow attempt to comfort yourself.

“Come in baby,” he said groggily, breaking your heart to hear him call you such a loving nickname in such a tender way. The tears grew more frequent as you shook your head and walked towards him, arms still crossed until you reached the doorway and stood mere inches from him. 

He was impossible to read, but the one emotion you could identify was sympathy. Even Hangman, the hard-to-crack fighter pilot with confirmed kills, couldn’t stand to watch the woman who owned his heart stand in front of him shaking with sadness that he caused. You reached up to wipe away your tears, closing your eyes briefly, and just then you felt his strong arms around you. Jake pulled you close, nuzzling his face into your neck and stroking your back with his strong hands.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n, I’m so sorry baby,” he whispered into your hair. You cried harder, eliciting a grunt and sigh from him as the consequences of his actions finally caught up with his emotions.

“The things I said to you were-” he lifted up his head and stared upwards, searching for words, you remained nestled into his chest as you cried, “they were appalling. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything after Rooster told me you were here, I should have tried to see you. I just didn’t know what you’d want…”

“Jake-” you cut him off, peeling yourself off his bare chest to gaze into his eyes which were now also brimming with tears, “we need to talk about this stuff”

He nodded. You needed answers, he needed reassurance, talking was the only thing you could do. He let go of you and welcomed you into the house. Just as you had expected, he hadn’t opened a single window in the whole home, the air stagnant and dark, and the smell of dirty dishes beginning to creep through the building. You walked over to his couch, sitting down on the warm fabric that had obviously been the host of his body for the past couple days. He sat next to you, knees barely grazing yours as you sat in silence for a brief moment.

“Jake, do you remember what you told me on the beach at the beginning of the summer?”

“That I loved you?”

The past tense stung.“No, the part about you burning in, about what Phoenix was saying about you being safer…”

“Oh,” he glanced downwards, “yeah I do”

“Jake, you told me that you were flying safe because you were scared of losing me, that you were scared you’d miss out on our life, on our memories. You told me you wanted to see where we end up, and that our love motivated you to be a better pilot,” you fiddled with his fingers as you spoke, “and Rooster told me you haven’t been flying safe lately,” your throat choking up the more you thought of him being careless, “and I just don’t get why,” you finally sobbed.

The sound of your voice breaking finally brought Jake’s attention to you, concern and pity filling his eyes as he watched you struggle to explain yourself.

“I don’t get why you push me away. I don’t get why you tell me one thing and then do another. I don’t get why you put yourself in danger for no reason, why you put your career and your life on the line….to what? To prove some point?” Tears pooled on your cheeks while your eyes searched the room for some semblance of comfort. “The things you said when you broke up with me hurt, they hurt me to my core, but the thought of you throwing your life away out of spite hurts even more.”

Jake was speechless, his green eyes glassy under scrunched eyebrows as he finally felt the pain you had been enduring because of him.

“The life I want is the life I share with you. And I went into this relationship knowing distance and deployment and all that shit would be a factor. You did too. I’m prepared to go through anything for you…because I want those memories, Jake. I want to hold you and kiss you and dream of you while you’re gone. I want to move into your stupidly undecorated house on base when I graduate and be here for you every night when you come home,” you gestured to his bare walls, eliciting a small chuckle and nod from the hard-to-crack military man who had tears dropping from his eyes.

“God Jake the love I feel for you is endless. I gave you my heart, I gave you myself, don’t give those things back to me.” You stopped talking, the emotions overwhelming you to the point where you removed your hand from his and tucked your knees up in front of you, bundling yourself into a ball while Jake processed everything you said.

“I think…” he began, his eyes searching every part of the room except where you were, “I think we should take some time to think about all this,” he slowed down as he said the last few words.

Your tears dried up, shock overtaking the sadness. You didn’t expect this, you didn’t expect him to mean the things he said, to mean that he didn’t want to be with you.

“So you meant it?” You questioned, eyes finally meeting his.

“What?” He asked quietly

“You meant the things you said. The things about us? About me?”

“No, Y/n. I’m sorry for the things I said to you. They were hurtful and wrong and downright disrespectful. You’re a sweetheart and I’m sorry. I just mean I don’t think it's smart for us to jump into things right now, not with my deployment and your school.”

“What are you saying,” you cut him off.

“I think maybe we should just wait to date or something, til I’m back…”

“Jake,” your voice cracked, “I can’t do that,” you sobbed.

“You don’t think it's a good idea?” He asked earnestly.

“I’m gonna be waiting for you either way. I’d rather be waiting as your girlfriend than just some girl who's heartbroken and doesn’t even know if the man she loves loves her back.”

“You’re not some girl, Y/n, you’re my girl,” he rubbed your arm.

Shrugging him off as the confusion overwhelmed you, “no I’m not Jake. You broke up with me, you told me we should wait. Those don’t exactly go hand in hand with being ‘your girl,” you stood up to leave, he stared at you bewildered, “I’m leaving. You need to make up your mind, I’m tired of being confused about how you feel about me.”

You walked through the dark house to his door, opening it and letting the harsh California light hit the living room where he still sat on the couch, eyes never leaving your frame. 

“Good luck on your deployment, Jake,” and with that you took one last look at him and left the house, closing the door behind him. As you walked away, you held out for the possibility that he would open the door and come running out with an apology. But he didn’t. You walked the whole way back to Gabby’s without a word…without an ounce of clarity…just confusion like you had never felt before.

—

The remainder of the weekend went by without a word from Jake. Occasional glances from Rooster after he got a text or got off the phone let you know that, per usual, you were the only person out of the loop when it came to your relationship issues. Nevertheless, going through this breakup without Gabby would have been impossible, and her support meant the world to you.

Monday came around and it was time for the pilots to leave. The debate of whether or not to go had lived in the back of your mind for the better part of the weekend, eating away at you when you tried to close your eyes. Ultimately, after lots and lots of thinking, you had decided not to go for multiple reasons. For one, it gave Gabby and Rooster time alone during a special moment…and it also gave you the upper hand over Hangman. Despite what he told you, you knew Jake, and you knew he’d expect you to be there to wave him off. 

“You sure you don’t want to come, honey?” Rooster asked you as he walked by the couch where you reclined in their living room, dressed in his flight suit.

“Yeah I’m sure,” you sighed, sitting up to face him. “I know he’s gonna expect me to be there. And I want to be there for him…but I can’t let myself keep getting hurt. I can’t let him know that he can keep hurting me and I’ll come crawling back…”

“You know, as much as I love Jake, and as long as I’ve known him,” Rooster began, “I think you’re doing the right thing. You’re showing him you’re prioritizing yourself, which is important. He’s an asshole, he needs to be put in his place.”

“He is an asshole isn’t he,” you and Rooster laughed together.

“Alright honey,” Rooster ruffled your hair, the nickname he always called you by making you smile, “I’m outta here. I’ll keep my lips sealed to Jake for a bit, but you know how to reach me if you want me to tell him anything, okay?”

He grabbed his bags, “or if you just want to chat, I’d like that too.”

“Bradley!” Gabby’s piercing voice ran out from upstairs, “we’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry the fuck up!”

“Down here, baby!” He yelled back.

Gabby came running downstairs, “You’re ready before me?” She asked out of breath.

“Yeah?” Rooster said sassily, “why are you so shocked by that?”

You giggled at the couple, making Gabby sneer at you.

“Don’t you dare laugh with him,” she pointed at you, making you and Rooster laugh harder. She sighed before walking down and embracing her husband.

“You can’t wear this flight suit in the home, Brashdaw, otherwise you’ll be late to everything…” she flirted before kissing him, his hands gripping her hips.

“I love you, Gabby,” he kissed her again.

“Y'all are gonna make me throw up, go get on a boat or something Roo,” you pretended to gag as you got up from the couch.

“Bye Y/n,” Rooster said, letting go of Gabby briefly to give you a hug and kiss on the forehead, “don’t be a stranger”

“Back at ya.” you gave him a smile, “don’t like die or anything….Gabby would kill you”

Your friend laughed, giving you a brief nudge before opening the front door for Rooster. She shot you a quick wink before closing the door behind her, the sound of the bronco starting not long after. 

And with that, you sat back down on the couch, left with your own thoughts and the slightest feeling of regret and worry beginning…what if you never got to say goodbye?

--

Taglist: @dempy @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mightiestheroes @taytaylala12 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 5

Epilogue Part 2: To End Up With You (SMUT)

Season 5 Masterlist

*Aloha! This has been a long time coming, but here you go! The end! 

This is just...this is...utter filth. Very very grown-up, and I don't recommend trying some of the stuff at home. 

There's some plot, but it's mostly just smut (apart from the end) and includes some slightly spicy images, i.e. a woman in underwear. Avoid it if it's not your thing. 

P.S. I've never been to Hawaii, so don't expect this to be accurate or realistic. Please enjoy the final chapter of this book as Ray and his sweet girl enter their new chapter <3

The journey was hell, but it brought them to heaven. 

After a gruelling six-hour flight, Ray and (y/n) finally touched down in Hawaii, the final couple to board the packed flight. They'd gone straight from the mall to the airport, having easily laid a few thousand down on a new wardrobe each after realising everything they owned was now ash and charcoal. With heavy hearts, they made the first step of letting the old Man Cave go, knowing new beginnings deserved new threads. However, (y/n) wished Ray didn't try to carry every bag she bought in the name of chivalry. 

But shoving a few weeks' worth of clothes and essentials into a few suitcases wasn't easy, meaning they showed up to the plane looking slightly mad and certainly rumpled in their suit and white dress. 

They were newlyweds, which went well with the grumpy old man in the aisle seat next to them. He rolled their eyes as they bumbled into the middle and window seats. Ray graciously took the central option since he was a gentleman, unlike the loser who swore that anyone who was ever late should be lined up against a wall... Not the sort of guy Ray wanted his sweet girl rubbing shoulders with. 

But, six intolerable hours of crying babies, lousy food, and no sleep later, they touched down in paradise, catching peeks of the shadowy beaches and black sea beneath them as they descended through the clouds. It was disappointing to know they didn't get their first glimpses in daylight, but (y/n) didn't care, not when they collected their bags, shoved their passports in the face of the kindly man in security, and skipped out into the free air. 

They still had a taxi ride ahead of them, but it didn't matter to her; this was Hawaii - the place she'd always dreamed of. And now, she had finally arrived with her husband by her side. 

"Calm down, darlin'. We've still got an hour before we get to our hotel."

"I know, I know! But a girl can be excited, doofus. It's my honeymoon, after all..." she giggled as they slunk into the back of the cab, refusing to stop holding hands, even as they fastened their seatbelts. He couldn't help but smile at that, too, bubbling with excitement at the prospect of spending three weeks interrupted with his wife. His wife. 

He wasn't used to that, frequently raising her hand to his lips so he could kiss her rings - the ones that told the world she was his and he was hers. It was a sweet sight for the taxi driver, who politely chatted with them, cooed when they spoke of their recent nuptials, and welcomed them to the island like they were old friends. That instantly stood out to the happy couple; everyone around them was pleasant and friendly - always smiling. 

And, of course, the man at the hotel lobby's entrance smiled. Sharp, bright, pearly like a shark, his hand outstretched for his expectant tip that had Ray reaching into his wallet. He didn't care, not even when (y/n)'s eyes widened at the fifty-dollar bill he handed over--wasn't that a little extreme? She would've thought so if it wasn't for the foyer that greeted her, taking her breath away as a bellboy jumped into action to carry their bags. 

That was the kind of place the hero had booked; endless polished marble floors, high ceilings, luxurious wallpapers on walls otherwise painted white, soft velveteen couches for waiting clients, and a tropical fish tank that reached the balconied floor above them. The place felt like a palace, gleaming and spotless as (y/n) took in its beauty with a wide-eyed expression and open mouth. 

She felt a little intimidated, wondering if such a place was meant for someone like her, who often dribbled food down her front or wore dirty sneakers. But she didn't need to worry; as fancy as the hotel was - literally the best money could buy - the staff were far too well-mannered to say anything. As per Ray's plan, they wouldn't bump into any snooty residents anyway. Even the judgemental glances at their shotgun wedding attire would pass as the very accommodating man at the front desk handed them keys and congratulated Mr and Mrs Manchester for their recent marriage. 

Her new title was foreign but not unwelcome as her lover whisked her away again, ushering her away from the main building with the bell boy and into what looked like a reinforced golf buggy. 

"What about our room, Ray?"

"Don't worry, sweet girl. You'll see..." the man whispered into her ear as they huddled in the back of the vehicle, pushed together by the cooler air and a constant need to be close. 

Everything was so mysterious and lacking in detail, giving her little to nothing to imagine as the spotty kid drove them along a rocky path beside the main beach. He was nice enough like everyone else, accustomed to tourists and the like as the bright building disappeared behind the lush vegetation behind them. Undoubtedly, Ray didn't intend for them to sleep on the beach, (y/n) assumed, but she couldn't help but wonder as the darkness crept around them, and the sound of crickets grew louder.

There was almost no one around here; everyone was put off by the mountainous terrain, forest, or isolated sane dunes to walk this far away from the sun beds, bars, and restaurants. She would've been okay with that palace, knowing the rooms would've been expensive but of the highest quality--fit for a king and queen, so she didn't understand what could've been better out here in the middle of nowhere.

"I can hear you think, sweetheart. Trust me. I know where we're going," Ray chuckled, kissing her cheek and jaw as her eyebrows twitched in confusion. He read her face like a book, sensing her slight apprehension, despite trusting him with her life. Knowing her doofus, he wouldn't have stopped until he had the best of the best booked, nothing but the finest luxury for his darling wife, yet she couldn't work out what that was. 

"Can't you give me a clue? Just a little one?"

"Nope."

"A tiny one?" Damn, he was holding out on her, distracting her with kisses and a warm hand on her thigh as she whined. A brattier part of her wanted to pout; this was her vacation, too - why couldn't she know where they were staying, especially if it was some mud hut out in the sticks? But no, she had to remain calm and trust the process. She did not want to look back on her honeymoon and remember a temper tantrum, not even when Ray stood fast and refused to spill his secret. 

"No."

"A teeny-weeny-peeny one?" But he couldn't fault a sweet girl for trying. 

"Cute, but no," he grinned, pecking her nose as she wrinkled it in defeat. What a meanie, making her suffer a surprise of all things. But she relented, eagerly leaning out of the buggy to try and work out where the bell boy was taking them as he worked on making her lose her cool. 

He'd been a nightmare of the plane, whispering all kinds of tempting, sinful ideas to her, ranging from wondering what that pretty little dress would look like on the cabin floor to joining the mile-high club. All of which would've earned them a lifetime ban on flying, so she switched on a movie and told him to eat his microwaved goop. Cue Ray pouting, mumbling about needing his wife more than ever now that she'd taken his surname, but whatever. His moment would come - literally. 

Ignoring his tummy-tingling touches, she peered at their surroundings. It didn't help that it was way past their bedtimes with little more than the moon and stars to cast their light onto the beach and rural trails, but gradually, she began to piece some things together. The further they got from the central hotel, the more frequently the tiki torches appeared, guiding them onto a smoother road and toward an open stretch of white sand and endless ocean dotted with individual shacks that glowed warmly and invited them closer. 

Well, she said shacks. As they approached, she quickly retracted that noun, gulping when she saw their design and grandeur, replacing it with mansion. They were huge, made from solid wood and stone, with open windows, potted plants and palm trees to make the rooms cool and airy in the warm, welcoming light. Each had its pool that stretched around the properties, leaving islands for wicker furniture, outdoor grills, and sun beds. 

It should've been cosy with so many couples living so close together...until (y/n) realised they weren't individual rooms but one lot - one space for one paying customer, who just happened to be Captain Man. He'd booked one villa for three weeks for two people, namely himself and his wife, who deserved to dine, sleep, and explore without fearing someone interrupting their getaway. Was it expensive? He used his card without a second thought once he'd seen the bedroom and king-sized bed online. It was perfect, and her expression was exactly what he'd been hoping for. 

"Good?" he asked as they got closer, laughing when his sweet girl almost stuck half her body out of the window to try and get a better view. 

Good was an understatement as they pulled up near the front door, framed by the grand, looming porch with its flowers and seagrass welcome mat. The place screamed domesticity and comfort, stealing (y/n)'s breath away as she scrambled out of the golf buggy with a helping hand from Ray. He didn't want to see her trip, not when they had three weeks to enjoy the space, although he understood her excitement. 

"Uh-huh..." she nodded weakly, her head constantly inclined as she stared at the pretty villa, noting its creamy walls and ornate slate roof. Her eyes couldn't drink in its beauty fast enough, but one thing was sure - it must've cost Ray an arm and a leg. Possibly a kidney, too. 

"Doofus, this is too much. You didn't have to spend this much on us for one vacation."

"I did, sweet girl. You deserve it, and besides, who doesn't want their own resort, complete with a private pool and beach?" He shrugged, helping the boy with their many suitcases because he was nice. She was his for the next twenty-one days, and he didn't want to share, deeming the communal buildings too busy and noisy for a proper romantic getaway. After all, Ray Manchester didn't share, not when he planned on making his pretty wife scream to the heavens. 

"You mean it's ours? There's no one else?" (y/n) frowned, but now that he mentioned it, she realised she hadn't seen anyone since they'd checked in. Could he mean it? No one at all?

"Not for miles around, so I have you all to myself. No kids, no emergencies, no bald weirdos showering with pigs... Just us," Ray smirked, gently kissing her lips as the kid - Ryan? Rhys? Rob? Whatever - worked on placing their bags in the hallway past the grand doors. He seemed a little too eager to please, cruising for a healthy tip as he snuck a few glances at the pretty lady wearing the even prettier dress. She was hot...but her husband was terrifying, especially when he caught him staring. 

He was used to it - every man and boy liked to drool over his wife, trying to tempt her away with sneering smirks and crooning words, but she didn't know it. (y/n) was entirely focused on her doofus, throwing her arms around him and chanting a million thank yous to see how the boy turned all hazy-eyed at the sight of her soft thighs. It was just a tip he was cruising for, making Ray curl over her body protectively and glare at the spotty kid. 

"Can we go inside?"

"'Course, sweet girl. Just let me get those last few bags..." Ray smiled, gesturing for her to go and explore as he puffed out his chest and took all four bags in one mighty lift. As his girl skipped off to see what delights awaited inside, he strolled past Rob--Rick--River--whatever his name was with a Cheshire grin, knowing he didn't have to take the bags, but he wanted to. That kid was just a kid, and he wasn't jealous...or pretending that the luggage wasn't heavy - he just wanted to speed up the process. 

With her doofus showing off to the bell boy, (y/n) stood stunned in the open living room, breathless by the elegant space. The open plan gave the kitchen and dining area a nice flow into the seating area, where a plush white sofa surrounded a solid wood coffee table. The mini bar was free - prepurchased by Ray - and they could choose to cook, dine at the five-star restaurant or phone for room service, depending on their energy. 

Slipping her heels off, she walked into the airy room, noticing an enormous bed through a large archway on the right. Adjacent to a mirror, vanity unit, and wardrobe, it was big enough to fit four people. It was a mountain of duck-down and pure white Egyptian cotton that would give anyone the best night's sleep. Sleep sounded nice after so long on the plane, enduring turbulence and the constant pilot announcements, but she kept wandering. 

There was a bathroom, too, complete with a walk-in shower, pool-like tub, and two his-and-hers sinks at the marble counters. Everything was gilded and polished, decorated with tasteful cultural art or paintings of sea life, making (y/n) smile at the thought of dolphins, turtles and little fishies. 

Through the open arches on the back wall, she saw the deep, turquoise pool bubbling as it reflected the moonlight. It wasn't huge, but it would be fine for two people, especially when she saw an untouched, private beach just a few metres behind the shrubbery. The next villa along must've been miles away, giving them utter privacy from their neighbours--whoever they were. No one would peek over the fence to catch a glimpse of her sunbathing or spoil their relaxation by partying on the sand. 

This was the Hawaii she had only read about in billionaire's magazines, and Ray had managed to get it for her. She'd make it worth his while. 

"Do you need any help unpacking, ma'am?" A soft, polite voice broke through her awed daydream, snatching her gaze away from the impressive decor to see the boy - Robin or whatever - standing before her. Ray had finished his job for him, but he couldn't help being helpful, especially for someone staying in the princess suite...and for such a gorgeous lady. 

"Oh, uh---"

"No, thanks, pal. My wife and I can take it from here, so why don't you get back and your golf buggy and go back to the kiddie club or wherever you work?" Before she could speak, Ray was by her side, giving the blushing kid his tightest yet cheesiest grin as he curled his arms around his sweet girl and pulled her back against his chest. 

(y/n) wriggled at the intimate embrace, feeling shy as the boy looked away with a bashful, nervous giggle, but she relaxed into her doofus. She expected Ray to be handsy, recalling how he behaved on the plane and verging indecently when she said she was cold, but she understood why. Being alone sounded heavenly, meaning she did her best to give the kid her politest smile as he backed off, seeing he'd get nowhere with the lady whilst her husband was around. 

Something told her that he must've been popular with the female guests.

"Are you sure that will be all, ma'am?" The kid was incessant, practically batting his eyelashes at (y/n) as she giggled, noticing how he ignored her bulky, sulking husband, who seethed behind her. If only he knew who he was talking with--whose wife he'd set his sights on...

Ray opened his mouth to give him a damn good talking, wanting to curl around his sweet girl and shield her from the leering eyes since she was too precious for such corruption. Still, she simply raised her hand to tell him to button it. There was no need to spoil their first night with a fight, and the sooner she showed him her disinterest, Ramon or whatever would go away. 

"Yes, thank you. We can manage from here," she assured the boy, stroking Ray's forearm as it rested against her tummy. It seemed to calm him down, or maybe he was more interested in rubbing his slightly stubbly cheek on the top of her head to show his loving possession over his sweet girl. It placated him anyway and warded his rival off as he bowed his head and bid them goodnight. 

"Very well, ma'am. Room service is available twenty-four-seven, so please, enjoy your stay and don't hesitate--"

"Yeah, yeah, we'll phone the front desk. Thank you, and goodbye!" Ray butted in sharply after he untangled himself from the heroine, using his vast size to force the kid toward the door. He was the king of subtlety, making (y/n) roll her eyes at how he roughly shook his hand, pressing a fifty-dollar bill into his palm just to get him to fuck off and leave them alone--like he'd paid for. 

The door slammed shut in his face before another word could be uttered, leaving the stunned, if richer, boy standing in their front porch light, wondering if it was something he said.

Finally, they could breathe a sigh of relief. The hero turned around to see his precious girl smiling at him like she found something funny, failing to hide her laughter through her fingers as he moodily stomped over to her. He knew the beauty he married - one of the many reasons he loved her - but come on, any guy would be irate to have another bum giving her such lovestruck stares--not that there'd ever be another guy. 

"You didn't have to throw him out like that, doofus. That kid was only trying to be helpful," she teased him, smoothing her flat palms up the man's chest as he huffed and pouted but looped his arms around her too. 

"He was ogling my wife," he replied gruffly against her neck, instantly resuming what they'd hastily paused on Mount Swellview many hours ago. Neither wanted to think about the kids, not because they were mean or forgetting them already, but because the pain was still fresh. They were miles away and alone, but this time was supposed to be for them - fun and relaxing. 

So, Ray did what he did best, running his lips up and down her throat in his best method of seduction, knowing he, for one, was dying to see her naked, preferably underneath him. And he was good at it, smiling against her soft skin when a hand pushed his face closer, encouraging him to nip and poke his tongue out--

"Uh-huh, sure. I think he was just being polite. I mean, come on, Raymond, he looked about twelve..." 

"Exactly... I know how the twelve-year-old boy's mind works, darlin'. He took one look at you and thought he stood a chance," he growled, reaching around her hip to slide his hand down to her ass, grabbing fistfuls of her flouncy, lacy skirt and the soft, supple flesh hidden underneath. (y/n) chuckled, tilting her head back to allow him more space as she thought a little seduction couldn't hurt, not when his small but skilled ministrations made heat pool in her belly. 

"And you know that he didn't. Not when my grumpy doofus of a husband was ready to fight everything within a half-mile radius for the right to be within three feet of me, including the mini-bar," she rolled her eyes and shook her head, relishing a few more pecks before stepping away from him. 

Ray's whine was puppy-like, quickly reaching out for his sweet girl when she left his body cold and lonely just to go and look out across the balcony. Damn right, he'd show that punk who he was messing with, gazing at her sweet little body in that stunning dress before he'd even peeled it off. This was his time to indulge in everything his wife had to offer, so it made his nose wrinkle and heart weep to see her curiously exploring the space he'd rented. 

The nighttime breeze was pleasant, brushing through her hair as (y/n) looked across the dimly lit pool and out to the shadowy bay. It was dark - why would she want to look? Or, that was Ray's conclusion anyway, thinking the stupid views and exploration could wait until the morning. After all, it had been a very long flight, so he hoped to have a very long night with his wife as they tested the mattress to see if it was worth paying an extra seven hundred dollars for a reinforced frame. 

"Sweet girl, come back!" He whined, reaching out to grab her hand--shoulder--butt--anything before she disappeared. 

"But, doofus, I wanna look around," the heroine argued as he caught her wrist and pulled her back into his chest, wanting to better understand how big the place was. It was late, and she was exhausted, but she couldn't help it, not when her rebellious streak silently dared her to go skinny dipping. She thought Ray would've enjoyed that, but he just raised an eyebrow and pouted more, looking wildly comical. 

"It's dark," he said like it was obvious, glancing at the starry sky and how it hid most of the gorgeous island from view. (y/n) She shook her head and smiled, biting her tongue at his incredible deduction because she obviously knew it was dark. But she wouldn't let that stop her, not even if her silly doofus told her it was too dangerous to traverse the rocky, uneven pathways that were just begging to trip her over with a taro root. 

"So? The decking is well-lit, and I think I saw a jacuzzi out there. Don't you want to relax after travelling?"

"Yeah, but I had different plans," the hero shrugged, trying to play off his desire like he wouldn't get down on his knees and beg if she asked. Call him desperate, but a man couldn't survive without his honey, and if he had to plead to taste it, he would--although, usually, he didn't have to go that far for his fill. 

"Like what?" (y/n) asked innocently, acting as though she didn't feel the hand on her ass again, squeezing her cheek like he was playing the accordion. Ray looked down at her through darkened eyes, knowing that she knew--knowing she was trying to drive him insane with her teasing words and how her finger drew circles on his dark shirt. Heat struck through his loins, making him grab her hips and pull her closer until their pelvises were flush--as if that wasn't a big enough hint for what he wanted. 

"You. Me. Naked. All night." Well, if you don't ask, you don't get - that was Ray's motto. (y/n)'s eyes flew to her hairline, not expecting her lover to be so bold, but she rolled with it, keeping her cool even as she subconsciously stepped closer. The jacuzzi was good, but being underneath her doofus sounded better, calling for her to spread eagle on the bed and let him do what he wanted. She was, after all, his good little wife. 

"Raymond, what will the neighbours think? They'll think you're a man of loose morals if they hear you talk to a lady like that," she gasped as if his murmured confession scandalised her. Hollywood wouldn't offer her any roles any time soon, her tone a little too dramatic as she whacked his pec and pressed the back of her hand to her forehead like a fifties movie star. 

He huffed at her antics, taking that hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it, which led to his lips trailing down the inside of her arm as her breath hitched. She was a terrible actress, but Ray didn't care, egged on by her breathlessness and need for proximity as they danced around what was inevitable now. Honestly, he would've begged for some action if she wanted, but she was always so receptive anyway.

"There's no one around for miles, pretty girl. It's just us," he chuckled, kissing down her arm until he was back at her neck, lightly biting her jawline as he ground his hips against her stomach. Her thighs tensed and clenched at his blatant arousal, tempted to sink to her knees like a good girl and take him in her mouth there and then. The thought made her mouth water, suddenly growing pliant and needy as she thought about his unsubtle request. 

But she could never resist a little teasing. 

"You pitch a tempting offer...but I might just go and look at the coconut palms," she smiled sweetly, patting him on the cheek before moving to turn her back on him, of all things. It was torture, knowing she couldn't give a shit about a tree, whether it grew tasty, tropical fruit or not, but Ray was so much hotter when he was moody. 

A smirk plastered across her face as an arm shot out and hooked around her waist, reeling her back against his chest as she squealed and giggled, knowing she had him. A growl turned her knees to jelly, ensuring his sweet girl wouldn't try running again now that he'd caught her, pressing his hips against her ass as his mouth came down against her ear, blowing warm air down her neck. His free hand - the one not preoccupied with keeping her against his taut body - firmly grabbed her chin, holding her face still as he bent over her, breathing heavily for a few seconds before speaking. 

"Oh, no, sweet girl... I'm not letting you go tonight. You're staying in bed with me all night. Do you understand?"

"Yes...Captain," she whined, eagerly pressing her ass back into him as her voice became needy and whiny, void of any ideas about teasing. He had her right where he wanted her in a well-rehearsed method that could've named Ray a mastermind. He was always good at swaying her mind, kissing her neck a few times as his hand released her chin and ghosted down her front, barely stroking over her breast before he released her. 

(y/n) gasped at the loss of contact, hating but loving how quickly he'd turned her on, knowing he could bend her over and fuck her right then and there. His seduction was short but effective, leaving her underwear sticking to her thighs and her hands shaking in mere moments, so why wouldn't he take her? 

A wave of brattiness at the loss of his body had her practically stamping her foot. She looked over her shoulder with a pout to see her doofus shedding his dark jacket and neatly folding it over a chair whilst he hungrily gazed at her body. Fuck, he looked good in that shirt, which had to be at least a size too small to make his biceps and shoulders look that big and broad. And he knew what he was doing, smirking a little when she whined and squirmed, wanting something - a direction, order, suggestion - something to tell her what to do before she burst into flames. 

"Good girl..." Ray hummed, undoing the first few buttons on his cuffs to roll his sleeves up his forearms, exposing inches of deliciously tanned skin, twitching tendons, and strong muscles. It was better than a striptease, making (y/n) kick off her heels and step toward him - anything to touch him. 

She pulled him into a filthy kiss, running her tongue along his bottom lip as Ray eagerly reciprocated, swiftly taking dominance as she slid her hands down to his collar. Her fingers deftly worked to undo more buttons, hoping to see his chiselled torso as he groaned and explored her mouth before abruptly pulling away. Their breathing was ragged, and their lips were swollen, but (y/n) was on a mission, growling lowly in her throat when she struggled with the following button. She was too excited, wanting her husband instantly naked since he'd reminded her of how much she needed him. 

It had been too long; between fighting Drex, recovering from any injuries, and coping with the next chapter of their lives, sex had been forgotten, especially since Ray refused to touch his wife's bruised body. It was a shock to the system, given how they woke up most mornings in the mood, and she was as desperate as he was - although without Ray's ulterior motive. 

"Doofus..." the heroine whimpered when he pushed her hands away when she nearly had it. She'd waited thirteen years for a wedding night with him, leaving them plenty of filthy ideas to try out, yet he refused to get undressed. Was he trying to kill her?

"All in good time, darlin'," Ray promised, knowing what he was doing as if he was known for being a king of patience. "Now, as much as I love this dress on you, sweetheart, it has to go...

"Yes, Captain..."

"That's my girl..." Ray smirked, swatting her ass once as he fumbled for the zipper on the back of her dress. It was a bit fiddly, cleverly hidden under stiff fabric, so the metal didn't show. But he managed it, peeling the material apart as it exposed her soft back, becoming loose enough to shimmy down her body. He anticipated seeing her naked tits and stomach, licking his lips as he yanked down the irrelevant dress now that his fancy was elsewhere. Still, it seemed his sweet girl had a little surprise for him. 

As the dress pooled around her feet, his eyes bulged out of his skull at the sight of her clad in the hottest yet daintiest set of white, lacy lingerie he'd ever seen. It pushed her tits together and trailed down her stomach, hiding and revealing everything as she innocently fluttered her eyelashes and moved the bra strap up her arm when it slipped. 

Her thighs rubbed together for friction, drawing his attention south, where his gaze glued to her pretty pussy, clad in the tiniest pair of panties he'd ever seen, marred only by the wetness making the material sticky and clingy, tempting him to pull them down and clean her up. 

"Fuck, that's pretty..." he groaned, rubbing his down over her stomach as she giggled, feeling nothing but beautiful under his stare as he rolled his thumb over her nipple until it was hard and straining through the thin bra. If he'd known she was hiding such sinful garments under that dress, he would've taken her sooner...maybe on the airport floor. 

"Like it?" She asked with a giggle, having hidden it for weeks after an impromptu trip to the mall and a very high-end boutique. Piper begged to know what she had bought, revelling in the woman's warm cheeks and ears, but she tucked it away in a drawer where no one would find it. After all, it was meant to be a surprise. 

"Think you know the answer to that, you little minx..." Ray grunted, his voice tight and strained when her hand rubbed the front of his black slacks, rolling her fingertips against his stiff length. 

It was no secret that seeing his wife clad in so little lace had him hard enough to cut glass, so he upped his game, rubbing up against her and stretching and squeezing her naked flesh. If there was one thing he loved, it was her in a thong because they gave him such good access, pulling her cheeks apart as he kneaded them with little hurry. 

"Will you fuck me now? Or am I not tempting enough?" She asked coyly, batting her eyelashes as Ray groaned, missing her touch when she pulled her hand away from his cock to run them over her body. The sight set his veins on fire; wanting nothing but his talent to bring her pleasure that night, he cupped her cheeks and began walking her backwards toward the bedroom. 

"Bed. Now," he ordered, going to undo his shirt as she giggled, carefully walking faster until the backs of her knees hit the bed's edge. She allowed herself to tumble onto the mattress, confirming it was as soft and luxurious as it looked. Being the true pillow princess she was, (y/n) didn't have to do anything as relaxed into the cotton and tucked her arms behind her head to watch the show. 

Consciously or unconsciously, Ray made a show of ridding his body of the infernal shirt, nearly ripping the last few buttons when he grew tired of doing it correctly. As he edged towards her, he shrugged the black material down his shoulders and tore it off, giving her the mouth-watering sight of his naked abs and thick pecs. God bless whoever invented working out, making her shamelessly flop her legs open as he stood next to the bed, looking every bit the Greek God he was. 

He stared down at her, licking his lips as she spread her legs and rested her hands on her tummy, openly welcoming him to do whatever he pleased as long as it ended with her fluttering cunt satiated. And who was he to deny her. 

Ray quickly popped his slacks open and pushed them down his meaty thighs, leaving her hungry for the cock pressed against his expensive underwear as it left a dark spot on the front. He'd never been harder, thoroughly turned on by the knowledge that he was staring at his wife as she waited for him to fuck her. He might have been on the brink of discovering a kink, getting off on the fact that he'd made her his wife and had God's gift to mankind all to himself for eternity. 

"Don't just stand there, doofus. I need you..." (y/n) whined, breaking him out of his daydream to see her head tilted back against the pillows and her previously idle fingertips sliding toward her soaked panties. He tutted at the sight, reaching to stop her before she could draw any self-pleasure. Anything she felt would come from him, meaning he quickly joined her on the bed, crawling up the mattress like a wolf hunting its prey. 

"Don't touch what's mine, sweet girl..." he warned lowly, laying on his front as he kissed her clothed clit, making her mewl for more when his tongue flickered over the sensitive nub. 

"This pretty little pussy is mine, understand?" He asked gruffly, slinging an arm over her stomach so her hips couldn't move. She could writhe, whine, beg, or thrash, but under Captain Man's bulk, there was no moving, just taking whatever he did or didn't give as he groaned at the faint taste reaching his tongue through her soaked thong. 

"Yes..."

"In here, you are mine, sweet girl. You will do what I say and take whatever the fuck I give you because I know you love it. I'll make this lush little body shake when you scream and beg for more..." the hero said darkly, making her tremble as he affectionately rubbed his cheek against her hip, so she could feel his stubble scratching her skin. 

She nodded feverishly, agreeing wholeheartedly because he could do whatever the fuck he wanted, and she loved it--she'd learnt that much in the time they'd dated. She wanted to succumb to his dominance and control, not because he owned her, but because he knew her. And she knew he'd keep her perfectly safe as he fucked her into the springs. 

"But out there..." Ray murmured, glancing over his shoulder at the open doors giving the room its breeziness as it led to the open world.

"Out there, you own me, darlin'. I'm yours. I'm gonna take care of you forever..."

"Fuck, Ray--fuck me already!" (y/n) cried, tightly holding his shoulders as he kissed along her squishy thighs, teasingly dipping her fingertips under her waistband like he was gonna pull the panties down her legs and feast on her wet cunt. But he didn't, too busy sucking fleeting bruises into her flesh as he kept her legs pinned beside his head. He tutted and sharply bit her thigh, earning a squeal from his beloved wife as she pulled his hair, begging him to undress her properly. The lingerie was pretty, but now, it was in the way, making her feel trapped in the tiny panties. 

"Patience, darlin'..." he crooned, laving over her pussy in what was as much a tease for him as it was for her. He'd love to bury his face between her thighs until she couldn't take anymore, but he didn't want to rush. They'd only get one night like this, one first time as husband and wife in the throes of passion, and he tried to make it memorable. 

"Don't tell me to be patient! I want you to fuck me...need it. Can't you see how wet I am for you?" (y/n) whimpered but stared at him invitingly, biting her lip, fluttering her eyelashes, licking her lips, and squirming--every trick in the book to try and entice him. She even stretched to cupping her breast and moaning, throwing her head against the pillows like she did when he filled her repeatedly, making Ray swallow thickly, watching how her chest heaved. 

"Shit, sweet girl... You know I want you," he conceded, thinking his desire was evident--constant, given how he could never leave her alone. His hand reached to take hers, pulling it away from her tits to kiss her fingertips, the ones that brought self-pleasure when he wanted to be solely responsible for that job. 

"So, why don't you?" (y/n) asked moodily, wrinkling her nose like a child as her doofus took his time trailing his nose's tip from thigh to thigh and over her stomach. Crawling up her body, he palmed her tits and messily left kisses along her collarbones, dawdling for some reason known only to him. She accepted his kiss when he reached her mouth, languidly exploring her honeyed taste until she grew too impatient, pathetically thumping his shoulders, making him smirk. 

Ray knew what he was doing; he might not have known much, but he knew how to make her squirm. 

"Let me make love to my wife. Let me savour this time, and I promise I'll ruin this needy cunt after..." he whispered, brushing his hand over her forehead to push back stray hairs before gently pecking the skin there. 

(y/n) didn't know how he did it. How could a man be so tender yet so filthy simultaneously? She instantly felt the shift in the room, forgetting her brattiness to sink into the pillows as sensual energy surrounded them, forsaking any need to tear clothes and go at it like rabbits. It was slightly strange, given that Ray, whilst a very generous lover, tended to prefer rougher, faster fucks than something slow and steady. She didn't mind that since he knew how to leave her breathless and sated, but she'd be a liar if she claimed to not tear up at his words. 

Her doofus made it sound so special, trailing his knuckles down her cheekbone like she was made of glass--the most precious thing in the world. He looked down at her with the softest blue eyes she'd ever seen, becoming jelly-like in his embrace as Ray blanketed his sweet girl with his body. 

"Ray..." she murmured, feeling like she would cry when her arms reached under the ones beside her head to hug him closer. Tonight, he would be her doofus, her beloved Ray, her husband, not the Captain everyone else knew him as. 

As her lips found his skin, suckling imaginary bruises where she could, he worked on reaching around her back to unhook the bra. The hero chuckled when his pretty girl hung off his body, unwilling to let go even when he wanted her perfect tits free, and that wasn't easy when she kept distracting him. But he managed it, fiddling the catch until he could peel it down her arms and throw it somewhere unimportant - a plant pot or something. 

Next, he pulled her underwear down, aware her chest was sensitive and ripe for playing with, but he just had to see her naked. There was no prettier sight than his wife underneath him, wearing nothing but moonlight and her wedding rings, making him harder than stone. A grumble left (y/n)'s throat when he momentarily pushed her away to hold her hips in the air, yanking down the lacy panties and throwing them over his shoulder too. 

At last, she was bare, looking like an angel as she stared up at him, reaching for his shoulders again since she couldn't stand to have him so far away. A hand came over her ribs to fondle her tit, rubbing his thumb over her nipple as Ray watched her eyelids flutter, missing his utterly besotted smile as he leaned down for another kiss. He couldn't get enough. 

"I love you, (y/n)..." he whispered against her lips, meaning it with all his heart as she cupped his cheeks and kissed him, drowning in happy tears - whilst her rings caught the light and sparkled. 

"I love you, too," she replied instantly, feeling his cock brushing against her stomach as he smothered her with his immense bulk. But, for now, she ignored it, not wanting to ruin the moment with her neediness as he pecked and blew raspberries on her cheeks - anything to make her laugh. His shoulder shook mirthfully, resting his forehead against hers as she unsubtly bucked her hips, rubbing against what she desperately craved. 

"Please, doofus... Want you inside."

"You don't want to eat this sweet cunt, darlin'? But it's my favourite part..." Ray frowned, also not wanting to ruin the moment with a minor disagreement, but part of him couldn't help but deflate at the news that they were skipping the foreplay. 

It was true; he could spend hours between her legs and happily go without anything if it meant getting a taste to satiate his addiction. He loved it all; taste, smell, sounds, feeling of her thighs quivering around his ears - it gave him a purpose, and he was damn good at it. His precious wife would attest to that. 

"I believe you said you'd ruin me later..." (y/n) replied, smirking, only to lose any smugness when his fingers appeared at her soaked folds, brushing through them like a teaser for what was to come. Just the thought of lying back and letting him feast to his heart's content made her opening flutter, which Ray definitely sensed as he slowly, mercilessly, almost cruelly circled her clit with a featherlight touch. 

"Doesn't mean I don't want you to soak my face..."

"We're here for three weeks, doofus. We have time, and right now, I want my husband's cock inside me..." she said sternly, gripping his chin between her forefinger and thumb, but a sparkle in her eye said it wasn't malicious. Ray gulped at her words, feeling his length bob in his underwear as she sank deeper into the duck-down pillows, staring through her lashes like a vixen when that word fell from her lips.

She'd married a pious man; he worshipped at her altar, getting down on his knees for his penance faster than most men before their wives. He happily devoted his life to her, seeing heaven when he had her like this, and it got worse when she begged, lips against her ear, nails digging into his biceps, legs sliding around his waist. 

"Please..." his angel pleaded, enjoying his weight on top of her, but she had to stop the emptiness inside her, thinking she'd gone too long without it. He screwed his eyes shut for a second, needing a second to collect his cool before nodding weakly, gulping and giving in because he couldn't say no. The great Captain Man was one of the strongest men on Earth, resistant to every villainous temptation in the world, but he could never deny his sweet girl anything, especially not when she was begging for his cock. 

So, he clumsily hooked his fingers under the waistband and tugged his underwear down, aided by the woman underneath him as she pushed them over his pelvis, so he could kick them off. His cock bobbed in the air so hard it stood straight, perpendicular to his smooth abs, as he pushed his hips down. The underside met her wet slit, making them both groan as he slowly dragged it through her heat, teasing them in replacement of foreplay, even though she'd been dripping since that damned plane ride. 

"So...beautiful for me, sweetheart..." he choked, realising how wound up he was as her hips undulated for more, hoping he'd show mercy and slide home. 

From head to toe, they were pressed together, skin on skin, wearing nothing but their wedding bands as Ray took himself in hand and slid his bulbous head to gather her wetness. As much as his better judgement wilted, he couldn't bring himself to rummage through their luggage for the lube he'd bought from a...questionable store. He would be mad to leave a sexual goddess like her alone in bed, waiting for him to fuck her, so he hoped she'd forgive his impatience, not knowing she craved the burn and stretch. 

"Inside, doof...inside..." (y/n) chanted, reaching between her legs to wrap her fingers around his cock, notching him at her entrance as he dipped in her slick. 

"I got you, darlin'. Anything for my wife..." The hero nodded, knowing he couldn't leave her wishes unattended, so he pushed forward, angling his cock slightly upwards as it brushed against the first inch of her walls, pulling her apart like always--as if they'd never fucked. 

"Oh, fuck--feels--feels so good--"

"Oh, fuck--that's good." "T-Tight--so tight for m-me," they groaned together, clinging to each other for dear life as the emotion swept over them, mingling with the pleasure of becoming one. Tears sprung from the corners of their eyes, making him moan roughly and sigh as he pushed in, relaxing against her body whilst fighting the urge to jackhammer into her. 

Something about her being his wife turned him feral like he'd succeeded against every other fool vying for her hand. Knowing that this was their endgame--that he was the last man who'd ever feel her like this made him want to lose control, pin her down and leave her body like a shrine to his claim. She'd bear his loving offerings when the time was right, but for now, he gritted his teeth and waited until he bottomed out, feeling like he was seconds away from cumming. 

He should've had more restraint, given that he was too impatient, selfish, and needy around her to delay until their wedding night. If he was any more of a man, he would've waited and savoured the moment, but he didn't have that much self-control--and honestly, neither did (y/n). So, it should've been boring after how many times he'd taken her, sometimes several times a day in all manner of ways, but this felt like the first. He felt like a teenager again; she was the girl he swore he'd love forever, more than one fling for a prom. 

"Move, Ray. Need--need--"

"Shhhhhh..." he soothed her keening moans, rocking into her slightly, just a minuscule jerk to make her gasp. Her face was screwed in pleasure, clenching so tightly around him it was almost painful from how wound up they both were. Ray just knew his sweet girl was in her head, dying for a good, rough fucking that would last mere seconds, but he knew she'd last for this. It was just a matter of soothing her. 

"Relax, sweet girl. Let me take care of you--make you feel so good 'cause you're my good little girl... My perfect girl."

(y/n) nodded, taking a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart and loosen her muscles. Instead of running toward her high, she focused on the moment and the man gently moving inside her. He tore up sweet heaven inside her, wrapping her arms around her body as he thrust deeply, shallowly, hitting all the right spots but at an agonisingly tender pace. 

She held him, too, tasting the salt on his skin as the room superheated from the friction of skin-on-skin, filled with the wet sounds of his cock driving into her cunt. 

It drove Ray half-mad, staying at the slow pace as his open mouth panted hot air across her forehead, where his squeezed-shut eyes and knitted brow helped him feel everything. Through the pleasure, (y/n) heard his mumblings, which sounded more like he was talking to himself than her, between every grunt. 

"Fuck--right where I belong!" "C-Can't believe you're mine. How did--how did I get so lucky?" "Love you every day." "Make love to you every day--so you know...I love you."

She smiled at his words, raking her nails down his back as molten heat surged through her veins. Ray sensed it, reaching down to rub slow, tight circles around her clit to push her over the edge and feel her walls tighten - nothing made him prouder than knowing he made her cum. Her first high was gentle but intensely satisfying, leaving her mewling and digging her manicured nails, raking down the muscly expanse of skin, making him hiss. 

It burned so pleasantly, pulling a brutal thrust from his control that had her choking after the sensitivity of the small but powerful orgasm. He quickly regained his composure, grunting an apology as he fought to stop pounding into her, even though it made his sweet girl hold him tighter. 

"This little pussy just loves to be fucked hard, huh?" He asked coldly, chuckling when she nodded frantically--as if that would make him move faster. 

"But you can take it like this, right? My wife can take me any time, any way, right?"

"Uh-huh...just like my husband will always make me cum first--right?" (y/n) replied with a grin, tilting her head back as he kissed, licked and sucked across her neck, biting down where he pleased since it made her tighten around him, squeezing his cock like a vice. She was warm, snug and impossibly wet after cumming, making him lose himself. as he growled at her words. 

"Damn straight, sweetheart. At least twice. Always."

"You're every girl's dream, doofus," the woman giggled as he doubled his efforts, upping the pace slightly whilst keeping his thrusts soft. But it was true; anyone would sell their left kidney to have a husband as considerate and kind as him, with the same prowess. Three to one was Ray's golden ratio, leaving her with jelly legs yet utterly satisfied every time they fucked--and that was often. 

"True..." The hero smirked smugly, lapping up her praise like the bigheaded doofus he was, and it made her whack his shoulder weakly as his fingers returned to her clit. He knew that after bagging so many girls over the years, there was only one he truly loved, and it was his privilege to be between her legs. 

"But you're my girl, and I'm not a dream. Fuck--you make me weak."

"You won't be the sore one in the morning..." (y/n) moaned as another high built in her core, spurred by his fingers dancing over her flesh. Her slickness made them slippery, effortlessly passing over her clit over and over as he sucked her tit and ran his tongue over her nipple. 

Nothing made him prouder than seeing her waddling after a good rough session, but it was often short-lived. Other girls felt it for days after, but (y/n) was lucky if she had hours to feel the ghost of her lover in her pussy with every step she took. Her super-regeneration often Soothed her muscles before Ray could bask in the knowledge that anyone could work out that he brought her endless pleasure. He hoped he'd see it when they woke. 

"Yeah? You gonna cum again, darlin'? 'Cause I don't want you walkin' in the morning."

"So good--kiss me, Ray..." she begged, ignoring his teasing and smugness when her cunt fluttered, aching to release around him. His fingers quickened on her nub, and who was he to deny his precious girl's request? 

He bent down and swallowed her moans, rolling his hips to give each pump of his cock a slight grind, finding that sweet spot with expert precision. She wailed into his mouth, shuddering in the safety of his arms as Ray breathed deeply, puffing out his cheeks as his stomach tensed, threatening to fill her before he'd completed his goal. His caveman instincts told him to ruin her, and that's what he aimed for, hoping to wring her dry with three orgasms. 

He doubled his efforts as the first died down, leaving her twitching and delirious from the oxygen his lips stole. Finally, his thrusts grew rougher, rushing to build her next orgasm since his tight balls and prickling skin suggested he couldn't hold out any longer. It wouldn't take much, not when she was so sensitive from the last, chasing his thrusts with her undulating hips, but he hoped to God he didn't lose it. 

And she didn't make it easy.

"Fuck me so good, doofus... Gonna cum in me?"

"Y-yeah--fuck, yeah, darlin'. Just g-gimme a few--" Ray gasped, trying to ignore the minx beneath him and her tempting, sinful whispers. He always thought she was so pure and innocent until he got her like this, discovering she could make him cum faster than anyone he'd been with before--with just a few words and a squeeze on his cock. 

But (y/n) wouldn't be defeated, knowing her third and final orgasm was inevitable with her lover finally fucking her, she felt it. The signs of him chasing his end were the sloppiness and uneven pace that satisfied his needs more than hers - self-indulgence. And being the mischievous succubus she was, she couldn't help but lull him into sin, teasing him with every preference, kink and weakness she knew. 

"Fill me up--want it. Want it dripping from me all night, leaking from my pussy."

"Keep talking like that, and I won't--you won't-- want you to cum again, sweetheart," her doofus stammered as her words fucked with his mind, sending stabs of heat through his loins. He had to leave her fulfilled, but God, if she wasn't pushing his limits. And she didn't stop there, seeing that she'd caught him even if he tried to stay in control. 

"And I want to be fucked full, doofus. Need you deep inside me, and maybe this time it'll take." It was a low blow, but it worked. Ray groaned gruffly, wrapping a large hand around her throat as his hips jumped from their own volition. 

He knew what she was talking about and cursed when he told her how deeply he wanted kids with her. The thought of making them both parents, of creating a perfect person, half doofus and half sweet girl, made his head swim and cock rock-solid. She'd be a mom, and nothing sounded hotter than his wife with fuller hips, thighs, and tits--fuck, she played dirty. 

"Shit--no--can't talk like that, darlin'," the hero garbled, losing himself in her trembling walls and the possibility of watching her swell because of him--no. 

He couldn't think like that when they agreed they wanted to be settled and secure before introducing a child to their hectic lives. But fuck, if it didn't make him want to try. There was no harm in imagining it--his true purpose was caring for his soulmate and child as he craved. 

"Cum in your wife, Ray. Cum for me." But (y/n) didn't care. 

She sucked his earlobe into his mouth and tightened her walls like a vice, milking Ray for all he had. That had him; he fell for her hook, line, and sink as she played her wife's card and held him close, biting a hickey below his neck as the first of his cum painted her insides. That brought forth her own orgasm, brief but intense, making them cry out together as his pelvic bone touched hers, locking them together. 

Pushed as far into her as possible, Ray growled and fucked her further into the mattress, wanting his seed to reach the deepest parts of her. His gaze met where their bodies joined, thinking that there was a teeny-tiny possibility that it could happen this time as he relaxed into her softness. 

"You'll be the death of me, sweet girl..." he said breathlessly, staying inside her whilst he regained his breath. She welcomed his weight, enjoying his tacky skin and endless warmth as he pecked her lips and smiled. She knew he was thinking the same thing when she hummed at how pleasantly full she felt, even if it was more of a dream than a plan. 

"If you go, I'm following you, Raymond. You're not getting rid of me now," (y/n) replied firmly, finding his left hand to stroke his wedding ring, falling in love with how the thick golden band fitted so snugly. 

It gave him an air of maturity and stability that screamed domesticity and called to her lesser instincts. Her perfect husband would take care of her, love her, and keep her safe for the rest of her days--it made her want to doze in his arms and forsake all her worries to be his little wife. 

"Good. I want you with me forever, darlin'. Love you so much..." Ray grinned cutely, kissing her rings, too, as he imagined dying whilst buried to the hilt in her pussy. There was no better way to go, but he'd never leave his sweet girl, not when his heart fits perfectly into the palm of her hand. 

"I love you, doofus. Thank you for all of this--it was the perfect end to our wedding."

"Night's still young, sweet girl. And I want you on your hands and knees and screaming my name by the end of it..." he promised, rubbing her hip as she giggled and stretched. Her walls pulled on his cock, making him grunt and lightly slap her ass since he meant it when he said he'd ruin her. 

This would be a night they'd never forget, and he wanted her thoroughly worshipped by the early hours. It would be a long night if nothing else. 

"Gonna clean me up?" (y/n) asked, smirking as he leaned on his forearms, pulling out of her cunt to encourage her to turn onto her tummy. He pulled her ass up so it wiggled in the air - perfectly presented for a midnight feast. 

"Anything for my wife."

~The next morning~

*literally the perfect reference for how these two sleep^^^--the closer, the better. Sometimes (y/n) is nearly laying on her doofus and it's why he wakes up...needy.*

Golden daylight filtered into the room as the happy couple snoozed. After a night in each other's arms, staying awake until the early hours screaming to the heavens, they slept in past breakfast. 

The hour must've been ten or later when (y/n) 's eyes fluttered open, and she could've easily napped longer if it wasn't for the sun flitting over her face. She rolled over onto her back with a groan, throwing the crook of her elbow over her face as a makeshift sleep mask. Still, there was something to smile about - the silkiness of the sheets against her naked skin and the equally nude body next to her. 

Cracking an eye open, her sleepy brain paused upon seeing her surroundings. She was confused by the palm trees she spotted through the glassless window and the bright, airy room around her, unlike the cosy yet dark bedroom in the Man Cave. Sitting up, she held the silk sheet against her chest and scanned the room, the previous night's activities returning to warm her ears and cheeks. 

God, they'd been filthy, rolling around and soiling the pristine set during multiple rounds - so many she couldn't remember the exact amount. Four?--she seemed to remember, but it could've been more or less. Either way, it left her utterly exhausted and deliciously sore, muscles aching in a manner she wasn't used to after so many years of super-regeneration. 

Throwing the sheet back, her legs swung over the edge of the bed, not because it was time to get up and be productive - a repulsive thought whilst on vacation - but because a glass of water sounded divine. Of course, her doofus took care of her, bringing her sustenance after her sixth high, but that was hours ago. 

So, she braced herself against the plush mattress and moved to stand, groaning lightly at her sore body when a hand curled around her wrist and pulled her back down. 

"Where do you think you're going, sweet girl?" Ray's rough voice asked, making her look over her shoulder to see her doofus' silly face poking out from under the sheets with his hair all fluffy and ruffled. His eyes were creased and puffy from sleep as he through the quilt off, revealing his toned chest and Adonis' belt. 

"I'm thirsty, doof..." she replied, smiling at her lover when he scratched his clavicle with his ring hand and rubbed his face. He looked adorable--almost worth staying with if it wasn't a five-step trip to the en-suite with her glass. 

"You're not allowed to leave this bed, remember? I don't want you lifting a finger, darlin'," he said grumpily, casting her mind back to the loving snarl he proclaimed in the middle of the night. 

She didn't take it too seriously, knowing he expected to wait on her hand and foot, carrying her around like a queen, hand-feeding her, and fetching whatever her heart desired. He was determined to take care of her as he promised, even if it grew a little much when the hero said he wanted her to stay in bed for the next three weeks. 

"I can get water, Raymond."

"Let me get it for you," he offered, instantly sitting up as he pulled her back to the mattress and pillows, smiling when her body bounced on the springs. (y/n) huffed, half annoyed by his silly obsession and half enamoured by the sight of his bare butt wiggling out of the room. 

"Such a doofus..." She murmured to herself, laughing silently at the sound of some bangs and clanks in what she assumed was the mini kitchenette she saw last night. 

Only Ray would run off buck-ass nude to fetch a simple glass of water, and it wouldn't be plain, old tap like she was planning on. No--the man skipped back a couple minutes later, a tall, condensation-covered glass of filtered water, complete with ice and a wedge of lemon, in hand. He was so extra and brazen, totally unashamed of his nakedness, especially when her hungry gaze took in his fit body, making her gulp. 

He knew what he did to her, strutting like a peacock as he approached with her sorely craved drink. 

"Here you go, Mrs Manches--" he crooned, giving his love a smarmy, besotted smile as he returned to her side, reaching the bed's edge and leaning over to pass her the glass when he spotted something. Ray paused mid-sentence, freezing like a statue as (y/n) looked up in confusion. 

"Doofus, what's wrong?"

"Oh, my sweet girl..." His eyes darkened as he dumped the glass on the bedside table, uncaring when the contents sloshed over the sides, chinking the ice cubes together. 

Ray wasn't bothered, more concerned with joining his wife on the bed, knees planted into the mattress next to her as he hovered over her body, inspecting it. She squirmed under his gaze, not embarrassed but concerned since his face seemed screwed up in pain or fury. He looked mad, but his icy fingertips were gentle as they traced her collarbones and neck. 

The touch made her shiver, giggling from the ticklish sensation and a few nerves that spawned from his intense stare, causing her to wonder if she had done something wrong. He gulped, practically drooling as he gazed at something she couldn't see, which wasn't like his usual arousal. After all, whilst he loved seeing her naked, it was nothing he hadn't seen before, adding to her bewilderment. 

"Seriously, Ray... what's wrong?" She asked, taking his hand into hers as he shook his head slightly to snap his mind back to the present. Whatever it was made him lose it for a minute. 

"Darlin', you--I--lemme show you," Ray stammered, not knowing how to say it because it had never happened before. They'd shared many morning afters, which were nearly identical, usually starting with sleepy, cosy sex and a much-needed shower. However, this was different, but not in a wrong way - God, it made him throb. 

Without another word - not that he could find the right ones - Ray reached to grab his phone from the nearby table, where he'd thrown it down the night before with his keys, some loose change, and wallet. He hadn't bothered to charge it, so he quickly snatched it to his body, fumbling to open the camera app and flip its screen to the inner lense. 

He passed it to his precious girl, making her frown since she wasn't one for staring at her bedhead, no matter how much he said he loved her in the morning. But (y/n) did as he said, taking the camera and checking her appearance since something had caught her eye. 

Yep, she looked awful. Makeup clung to her skin in smeared patches, gathered on her lash line, and rimmed her lips in a ring of faded rouge. Not even Piper's lewk could withstand a night of kissing, blowjobs and rough fucking, and neither could Charlotte's handiwork. Her hair was like a bird's nest, making her wonder what he was on about unless she looked so terrible it wanted a strong reaction. 

But this was her doofus, and he wasn't so shallow as to mock her smudged makeup, so what was it?"

"Okay, what am I meant to be looking at? 'Cause all I see is my pores, panda eyes, and--oh." Oh, indeed. 

Angling the camera to catch every contour of her face, (y/n) muttered incoherently as she made a note to scrub her face well when they got up--and call room service to change her pillowcase, but that's when she saw it. It wasn't her face or hair, but her neck, the soft stretch of skin that Ray loved nipping and sucking in the throes of passion. 

Usually, they never stayed awake long enough or focused hard enough to see the bruises formed in the perfect shape of his lips...until now. Scattered across her skin were dozens of hickeys, ranging from tiny to massive, light and dark, some gathered in clusters and others more random from when Ray wasn't concentrating. 

It didn't stop there; she could follow the trail down her stomach, giggling as she remembered how her doofus kissed down her tummy to her cunt, and fuck, if his marks didn't make it flutter. 

"Holy shit, doof..." she chuckled, feeling slightly naughty as he gulped and touched the bruises, recalling every instance he blemished her skin. He'd never seen it before, shocked by how something so simple and commonplace could turn his blood to fire, but this was his sweet girl. He'd never seen her bearing his love bites - it was filthy. 

"I know, darlin'. Fuck, you look so hot," Ray growled, kissing a few bruises and running his tongue over them, making her giggle as she stared at the phone. Strangely, he was right; as much as it was every mother's nightmare to see her daughter looking...ravaged, she loved it. Anyone and everyone would see her on Ray's arm and know what they'd done...and that had her pussy dripping like nothing else. 

"I guess when Schwoz said our powers aren't back to one hundred per cent, he meant it, huh?" 

"I wish we could stay like this...look so pretty covered in my marks," Ray mused, imagining how perfect it would be to see evidence every time they fucked. It awakened a new ferocity inside him, taunting him to forsake his protectiveness just to keep her bare and bruised in his bed. Maybe it was his need and want to stay in paradise where they could pass their days with sun, sea, and sex - his favourite with his sweet girl. 

"Miss Danger says otherwise, Raymond," (y/n) replied softly, rubbing his smooth jaw tenderly as he sighed, knowing she was right. 

Eventually, they'd leave this place and return to their crazy lives. He wouldn't take her into battle without the utmost protection, which meant this would be a one-time treat, something he'd only see once to fulfil his dirty desires. They had a week at most before their powers returned, and he was determined to make the most of it...until an idea popped into his head. 

It was dirty and daring, but that's why Ray loved it. Nothing much, just something to warm his soul on long, lonely nights when God forbid, his sweet girl wasn't around to warm him with her scorching heat around his cock. He only needed to ask. 

"Can I--Could I--Can I take a picture, darlin'? Please?" He asked tentatively, knowing the implications of what he wanted. But seeing her clutching the PearPhone and catching a glimpse of her sultry expression and mottled skin on the screen convinced him - he'd die a happy man if he could see her beauty like this forever. 

(y/n) paused, licking her lips slowly as she contemplated his words, understanding the faith she'd have to put in his hands to warrant something so risky. A flutter of irrational nervousness bloomed in her chest, unwanted yet impossible to ignore—she trusted him, God—the things she let him do to her, of course, she did. But common sense won out if only to ask...

"Promise you won't—" (y/n) trailed off quietly, a rumble of understanding coming from Ray in place of his usual cockiness. 

It was rare for him to see her timid and unsure whilst underneath him, and he saw how she pressed the camera to her chest, too scared to chance accidentally snapping a nude pic. His precious girl... he'd never wanted to hurt or frighten her, turning him squishy and loving. 

"Never, sweet girl. I don't share. No one will ever see them," the hero promised, understanding the confidence she gave him not to ruin her reputation and make her a laughing stock. He would never, but this would be her at her most vulnerable - it was his privilege to be trusted so deeply. 

And she believed him. For all his aggression and arrogance on the streets, fighting scum—Ray was utterly loyal to those he loved, uniquely protective in exchange for nothing more than someone was willing to give. He proved a hundred times over that he'd rather die than see her hurt. He barely allowed men to leer at her in the grocery store, let alone in such an alluring position – it was enough to inspire her following actions.

"Okay, just...give me a minute," the woman giggled nervously. Ray backed off as she settled into the pillows to capture the best angle, bathed in natural light and a faint glow from the room's warmth. 

She rearranged herself on the bed, her head on the soft pillows to easily relax against them and tilt her body upwards. The air kissed her feverish skin, nipples tightening further under its caress. It felt almost... dirtier to do this under his all-seeing, hungry gaze, thrilling to be so exposed. Ray lapped it up as he watched her raise the phone above her to include her pretty face, gorgeous tits, stomach, and the apex of her thighs all in one. 

The photo was sinful, making her heart pound and her thighs clench.

Did she really look like that? 

The bright sunlight streaking through the chiffon drapes illuminated her soft tummy and the contours of her breasts – shadows dipping and falling over marked skin and hardened nipples. It highlighted the curve of her hips and the sinful V between her thighs, where Ray happily settled himself. He could see how wet she was, but he couldn't take his eyes off her face - a lot for a man between his dream girl's legs, growing hard when she snapped a few pics without a second thought.

"Fucking hell, sweetheart. Have I ever told you how fucking sexy you are?" Ray groaned, stroking her thighs as he lay between them and rested his chin on her pubic mound, looking like a soft-eyed puppy as she posed in a sultry manner. 

"Once or twice, doofus," (y/n) giggled, flicking through the pics she'd taken and deciding that she didn't look half bad as the girl on the phone stared up at the camera and flaunted her figure and the dark circles covering it. She agreed; she looked hot, but they weren't for her use...

"What do you think?"

"Shit...fuck, these are gonna get me off so hard," Ray cursed when she handed him his PearPhone. He nearly had a heart attack as he saw her angelic form captured forever for him and only him to see. 

He quickly saved them to a private folder hidden in the depths of his cell, locking them in a password-protected folder just to be sure that even if someone found them, they'd have to work damn hard to see. 

"Your tits look pretty enough to bite, darlin'. And this..." the man growled, resting his hand over her pussy as she grinned, loving the effect a simple photo had over him. Maybe she should invest in a Polaroid camera...

"Fuck, can I take a picture of your pussy? Your thighs are just as bruised, sweet girl..." Ray gloated but shyly met her eye as he moved his fingers down her slit to where he'd sucked the jelly-like flesh of her legs when he'd eaten her out hours earlier. He loved leaving proof of his presence behind lest someone else neared what was his--not that they ever would. 

He was the only one allowed so close, but still, he had to ask. 

"I swear, I'll never--"

"Do it, doofus...but I want your cock after," (y/n) said with a smirk, loving how respectful and cute he was as he asked like a good boy. 

It was a fair exchange in her mind. Ray thoroughly agreed, furiously nodding as he shuffled back, propped up on his elbows with his phone between her legs, ready to snap the opposite view. 

She sucked in a breath, a coiled tension low in her stomach forcing a trickle of wetness from her cunt—making slick folds soaked as she refrained from rubbing her thighs together uselessly. It was exhilarating and almost impossible to stay still knowing her doofus was staring at--critically analysing--photographing her most intimate area. Still, she did her best to look as sexy as he thought she was. 

"Yeah? You wanna get fucked?"

"I think you know the answer to that," the heroine grinned, tweaking her nipples to total hardness for the pic, making her throw her head back and moan as pleasure shot to her core. 

"Fuck yeah, I do."

Ray quickly captured the glorious sight, feeling his stone length grind against the sheets from the sheer eroticism. Her fun pushed her chest into the air, partially hiding her face but highlighting the hickeys on her tummy as he groaned, loving every minute. The angle was perfect--almost professional--as the camera focused on her soaked folds and marked thighs that trailed to her twin peaks and sexy pout. 

He had never approved such photos before, deeming them immoral and dangerous in the wrong hands, but this felt...okay. He'd never do it with another woman, but their trust ran deep, and they felt safe in the confines of marriage. They had no need to share or seek revenge, just a little fun in case they needed a quick release. 

"So fucking hot, sweet girl...show me that pretty face," he growled after finishing between her thighs, shuffling up her body for his final wish. 

He wanted a couple of those doe-like eyes and soft lips staring into the lens--his soul. He'd stare at that in his final moment before completion, imagining her mouth around his cock, swallowing his load, or how her eyelashes would flutter if he painted her face with his cum. The thought made his length throb against her stomach, and she grinned as she smiled into the camera. 

"That's my girl..." the man cooed as she bit her lip, pouted, and poked out her pink tongue--every seductive expression she could think of that he might like. 

"Yeah? Do I look cute and fuckable?"

"Like a little minx, darlin'... No wonder I can't keep my hands off you," Ray grinned, satisfied with how many pics he had, so he leaned down to gently kiss her. His tongue languidly pushed into her mouth, exploring leisurely as she moaned and melted, letting him do as he pleased, the camera forgotten. 

"Fuck me, then. You don't need those pictures when I'm dripping for you right now..." 

"Shit... If only people knew what you're like, baby," Ray snarled mockingly, seeing how she smirked when he did as she said anyway, but he was too far gone. 

"They'd never think such a sweet girl was so fucking dirty."

He spoiled her too much - what made her so demanding, but who would deny an angel of her wish? Not him, and not when he ached so severely, so he took himself in hand and rubbed his bulbous head through her folds. She was so fucking slick, convincing him that it was their combined release from the previous night that he was coating himself in. 

"You want them to know? To see?" (y/n) teased, cupping her tits and rubbing her palms against her nipples teasingly as he lubed his cock. She licked her lips, tempting him with her best tricks to try and seduce him, desperately craving his thickness inside her after posing for him. 

"No. You're mine."

"I know...and you're mine. So, fuck me," she replied firmly, threading her fingers through his hair to pull his head back, exposing his throat. It was a technique she'd learnt from him, giving her perfect access to attach her lips to a patch of skin beside his Adam's apple. 

Ray groaned as she sucked a bruise and left indentations with her teeth, delighted by the result since his indestructibility clearly wasn't back to normal either. Usually, she couldn't burst any blood vessels or break his skin, merely give him the pleasure of laving at the salty taste, so this was as much a treat for her as it was for him. 

"You look pretty too, doof. Want me to mark you up?"

"Fuck, yes..." Ray groaned, picturing himself standing before the mirror with a purple trail down his neck. It would be even better if it was accompanied by her lipstick - red, maybe? - but that was an idea for later. 

Tucking it away, he focused on his beloved wife, placing his tip at her entrance and pushing into her blazing heat as the phone fell from his hand to land next to her head. 

"Always feel so big--" (y/n) whined, digging her fingernails into his scalp and bicep as he filled her, stretching her walls, despite fucking her over and over for hours last night. Ray kissed and ran his tongue over her jaw, whispering sweet words when he bottomed out, balls pressed against dripping pussy. 

"Gonna split you open on my cock, precious girl—leave you bruised from how hard I fuck you," he grunted, beginning to fuck into her when she nodded to move. He swiftly set a relentless pace; gone was his tender lovemaking, and they were back to what they loved - a good, rough fucking, wrapped in each other's arms. 

"Feel how deep I am?--Love—love how that greedy little pussy sucks me in."

She nodded pathetically, moving her arms around his back and holding him close. Her nails dug into his toned flesh and raked toward his ass, jerking with every earth-shattering thrust he made. The man hissed at the sensation, revealing his throat for her to suckle on, leaving marks he'd proudly wear wherever she pleased. 

"Feel me in here? Feel how deep my cock is, sweetheart?"

"So deep--so big--feels so good," she whimpered into his neck when he pressed his hand down on her stomach, making it feel like his cock was punching through her stomach and into her throat. 

He moved fluidly as she scratched his back, leaving angry red lines for admiring later. The base of his cock ground against her clit with each aggressive thrust, making her moan and gasp a stream of filth as she gushed around him, welcoming him deeper. The contact with the sensitive nerves brought forth her elusive release, and she forfeited scraping the left side of his body to circle it with two fingers. 

"That's it--rub that pretty little clit. Soak me, darlin'--make this cunt nice and wet for me," Ray babbled, pounding into her as she threw her head back and screamed, following his command like his good little wife. 

She came around him, tightening her walls, making him groan and bite down on her collarbone--another blemish for the collection.

He didn't stop, fucking her through her orgasm, despite her whimpers that it was too much. He knew she'd take more--she always did--so he slowed down briefly to more of a grind, hitching her leg over his hip to get deeper. The intense bliss was one hell of a drug, that sort of animalistic rut, that carnal desire – unbridled and embraced – as they fucked each other into exhaustion.

"Fuck me so good, Ray--why don't you take a video?"

And just like that, she broke him. Ray's game was flawless, and he seldom missed a beat, but her whispered offer made him stutter and turn sloppy. 

Fuck, he had to be dreaming because nothing had ever sounded so tempting. He thought he'd been pushing his kick with the photos, but to be offered a videoed performance of his dirty girl, complete with sounds and movement? He nearly came from the idea, fucking her down into the mattress with renewed vigour as he choked--

"Oh, shit--sweetheart, are you sure?"

"I trust you, doofus...and I want you to remember this--how you fucked me so well," (y/n) nodded, seductively smiling as he fumbled for his phone, thankful it hadn't bounced onto the floor during their vigorous activities. 

"Don't think I'll ever forget, precious girl. Fuck, you're hot..." he groaned as he slowed down, thrusting once every few seconds, which drove her mad, but when he did, it was brutal. 

A sharp smacking sound filled the air with each blow and her pitiful moans since the doofus could barely do two things together. But he managed to work his phone and satisfy her cunt simultaneously, turning the camera around so it was peering down at her, taking in her needy expression from being tortured. 

The man retreated onto his knees and, using his impressive strength, held her hips up to his crotch with his hand hooked under one knee, filming how his cock disappeared into her pussy, how the thrusts made her breasts heave, and every pretty little face she made. He couldn't hit record quick enough, pressing the big red button to begin what would undoubtedly become his most watched video, hidden in his phone's depths for when he was most needy. 

"Fucking--shit--look into the camera, pretty girl," he begged as she screwed her eyes when he upped his speed. Her tits jiggled and bounced, heaving when she crossed an arm over her body and stared into the camera, looking downright sinful with her dark eyes and open mouth. 

"Fuck me harder..." she moaned, unleashing her inner actress as she tweaked a nipple and bit her lip. The scandalous nature of it all made her skin burn and cunt contract, understanding he'd watch this back, thinking and watching her. 

Oh, the power it gave her, knowing she had him hooked even when she wasn't around, and if that wasn't the biggest turn-on and compliment...

"Beg me, sweet girl," Ray growled, wanting a proper show, and he knew she had it in her. She was so perfect and alluring, pouting at him in a way that made him want to ruin her--fuck her repeatedly to please her every desire. 

"Pleasepleasepleaseplease--please, Captain. Make me cum," she pleaded in a nasally, whiny voice, playing it up like she'd gone without his cock for months. It was filthy, but he loved it, throwing his head back and growling, shaking the camera momentarily as her free hand reached to frantically rub her clit. 

He captured it all, zooming in on her slicked fingers and how they play with her cunt before zooming out again to view the whole picture. She was a vision, better than any pre-made movie or his imagination, and it didn't take long for him to feel his release creeping up his spine. 

Usually, he would've held out a little longer and really made her feel him--mould her pussy to his cock. But the video made him weak--made him imagine how he'd use it to jerk off or get himself in the mood. Only his sweet girl could make him think about cumming again before he finished, and he snarled at the thought. He was ruined for any other girl. 

"Shit--shit--shit--gonna cum, darlin'," he stammered, wishing he could make her climax a few more times, but he couldn't stop the electricity speeding down his spine. Before he knew it, his thrusts were shaky, and his hand could barely keep his phone steady, indicating that he had a couple minutes max. 

"I want it, Ray. Cum for your wife."

"Fuck, where'd you want?" He groaned, further losing it when she spoke to him like that, the gold of her wedding ring catching his eye, drawing it to the bruises too. It cumulated in his end swiftly approaching, and he worried that he'd spill without warning, but (y/n) didn't need long to decide. 

"Cover me in it, doofus. Wanna be covered in your cum--" (y/n) moaned, chasing her high by rubbing her clit as her husband jerked his hips from inside her.

"Oh, fuck--I'm cumming--" 

The loss made her cunt clench around nothing, spasming in a pathetic orgasm that left her breathless, but the absolute joy came from Ray. All he needed was one look at her fucked-out expression and a few strokes of his cock, and he painted her tummy, shooting pearly ropes across her skin that he filmed for the perfect ending. 

It was a little shaky and blurry, but he could still see everything, especially how she bit her lip when the warmth coated her, spreading across the hickeys to deem her his utterly. 

"Shit--that's hot. God, you look so good, sweet girl," he groaned as he squeezed the last of his cum out, watching it drip onto her stomach in tiny droplets. For the perfect end to the video, (y/n) giggled as she swiped the smear onto her index finger and brought it to her lips, moaning when the salty tang hit her tastebuds. 

"I love you, doofus," she added cutely, and that's when Ray couldn't take it anymore. 

He swiftly ended the video, chucking his phone onto the bedside table with a clatter, and he didn't care if it cracked. Diving down, he caught her lips in a passionate, hungry kiss, feeling like he'd been a mere spectator after that. Whilst he loved how his cum stretched across her belly, it didn't feel like enough - it didn't satisfy his need to ravage her. 

"You've got no idea how much I love you, my darling girl. You're too good for me."

"I have to say...I think that's the most daring thing we've ever done, sex-wise," (y/n) chuckled as he hovered over her, uncaring if his navel brushed the mess on her tummy. If he was lucky, she'd lick it off his body before they got in the shower, but they were content to lie there for now. 

"No, that would be the time we fucked in Henry's backyard," Ray grinned, fondly remembering how they were like randy teenagers, giggling in the flowerbeds--and (y/n) went along with it in the hope that Mrs Hart would catch them in the act and see her man was taken. 

"Oh, yeah. He still doesn't know we broke that gnome. Poor Jerome saw things that day."

"Speaking of breaking things, how hard do you think we'll have to go to break this bed?" He suggested, ridiculously waggling his eyebrows just to hear her laugh, and she did. (y/n) broke out into sunny smiles at his silliness, but it wasn't a bad idea - nearly as tempting where her former archenemy could walk in and see a little too much. 

"Pretty fucking hard, doofus, but you can try," the heroine shrugged, thinking the bed was built quite sturdily and the hotel probably expected honeymoon couples to go at it like rabbits. Still, if one man could break a four thousand-dollar bed, it was her doofus and his insatiable libido. 

"... You're paying, though."

"Challenge accepted, Mrs Manchester...how about we shower first and then have round two to test the headboard?" Ray asked naughtily after pecking her cheek, thinking he'd try his damn best to fuck her properly--and part of him hoped they sent that snivelling boy to repair the frame. 

"A tempting offer, Mr Manchester, but I actually have something to give you first." 

Yet, to his surprise, his wife didn't jump at his suggestion to continue their escapades in the shower, which would undoubtedly lead to more fooling around. Instead, she rolled out from under him, wriggling free to make a pitiful whimper leave his throat because he didn't like to lose her softness against his skin. At least he had the magnificent view of her naked body crossing the room, the sunlight illuminating the faint handprints he'd left on her hips and ass. 

(y/n) giggled at his antics but stayed true to her purpose, shuffling off the bed to go and root through her suitcase, pushing clothes, shoes, and toiletries out of the way to try and find some mystery item. Ray's curiosity piqued, and he craned his neck to try and see what she was looking for as he built his hopes up. 

"Please tell me it's a pregnancy test."

"No, you doofus! Nothing like that..." (y/n) scolded him, giving him an amused eye roll at how eager he sounded, even though the idea made her tummy flip. It was sadly too soon, but she found his excitement for the future adorable, knowing he'd be the best father in the world once they were ready to take that step. And the neediest - his sweet girl as a mom? The man would be on his knees. 

"Awww..." Ray pouted, sighing in mild disappointment as she returned to her search. He really thought she was about to surprise him with the greatest gift, but he didn't let it drag him down. Now they were married; it was just a matter of time, and any present from his sweet girl was still precious. 

"So, what did you get me?"

"It's not much..." she replied nervously, wondering if this was a good idea as she pulled out a small cardboard box. 

It wasn't anything special or expensive, just a hand-painted craft store box covered in pretty, glittery stickers that could be found in any art supply section. But it was made with love and something she thought he'd like, so she quickly returned to the bed and enthusiastically pushed the trinket into his hands. 

"What's this?" The hero frowned, holding the mystery box in his palms like it was the most precious thing in the world. Whatever it was, he'd treasure it because his angel's hands made it, but he couldn't work it out for his life. 

"Read the front, doofus, and open it," (y/n) instructed, tilting his hands up to read the delicate cursive she'd painstakingly painted on the box's face. His head tilted confusedly as he read it - Ray's coupons - and it didn't make much sense until he cracked the box open. 

Inside, he found dozens of little shreds of paper nestled amongst shards of confetti glitter. He pulled one out, wondering what they could mean when he saw her bubbly handwriting scratched on one side, spelling out--to his utter bafflement--Redeem for roleplay. It didn't stop there; he quickly dropped that one and took another, eyes bulging out of his skull when he read, Redeem for deepthroating. And another--Redeem for one quickie. And another--Redeem for a sensual massage. And another--Redeem for cockwarming. 

"Sweet girl? What--what is this?" He croaked, his cock twitching at the mention of all his favourite things. However, as always, when sex was involved, his brain stopped problem-solving and switched to seduction, meaning he still didn't get it. 

"Well, just give me one of those, and we'll do whatever it says--within reason and circumstances permitting. I thought it would be fun...and it's not limited to this vacation, either," the woman explained with a teasing giggle, watching him visibly gulp as he understood what she was giving him - opportunities to do whatever the fuck he wanted. And he couldn't help but frantically search the paper scraps to see what else she'd allow. 

"Anal?" He grunted, licking his lips as she nodded, knowing it was one of his favourites but a rare treat. As she waggled her eyebrows, he returned to the box, feeling his cock beginning to stiffen the more he read. 

"This one just says titties. You gonna flash those pretty tits at me, sweet girl?" He asked amusedly, thinking it would be slightly absurd, but he wouldn't hate it. Not even if it seemed milder than the others, compared to things like bondage and striptease. 

"Look at them, touch them, hit them, suck them, fuck them, cum on them--whatever you want. It's your coupon, doofus," she shrugged casually like utter filth wasn't falling from her lips. 

A grin spread on his face as he kept going through the box, whispering fuck here and there when he came across something particularly tempting. She'd spent a lot of time making it, thinking of different things she knew he enjoyed and stuff he might like to try. 

After rummaging for another minute, he snapped the lid shut, keeping the treasure inside as he leaned forward to cup her face, bringing her into a passionate kiss.

"You spoil me, sweet girl. This is the best present ever."

"You like it?" (y/n) asked, mildly relieved that he didn't throw it back in her face, disgusted and offended. But her doofus wasn't like that. He pulled her in for another kiss, cupping her breast absentmindedly, slowly palming and enjoying its squishiness. 

"More like love. In fact, I'd like to redeem this one..." the man hummed with a sneaky smirk once they retreated, and (y/n) quirked an eyebrow when he presented her with a paper scrap. 

Giving her husband an all-knowing but interested look, she took and unfolded it, wondering how he'd managed to touch her up, kiss, and hide it simultaneously. A smile spread on her face when her eyes scanned the words, cunt clenching at the thought of following his wishes. It was part of the deal, and she was happy to comply. 

"Shower sex? You read my mind, doofus."

~

An hour and a half later, the couple were clean and well-fed. 

(y/n) kept her promise, allowing Ray to redeem his voucher in the shower to his heart's content, steaming up the large glass enclosure more than the scalding water ever could. Leaving her to soak once he'd had his wicked way, the hero slunk away to order some room service--pastries, fresh fruit, poached eggs, everything. 

He wouldn't see her go hungry on his watch and happily hand-fed her berries and chunks of sweet croissants once she'd dried off and dressed. 

"This is a pretty dress..." Ray hummed, stroking her knee and the soft fabric covering it as he admired her outfit. 

Dressing for the weather, (y/n) had opted for a summery sundress with a bright, bold pattern, leaving her hair and face natural since her doofus preferred her like that. And he did, snuggling into her side as she nibbled on chunks of mango and strawberry, sometimes smearing a pancake with Nutella and eating that too. 

"I knew you'd like it--that's why I wore it."

"Hmmm...so, what do you want to do today?" The man asked, kissing her neck, liking how the dress's low neckline exposed her marked-up throat. The island undoubtedly had endless activities, from exploration to one of the cultural classes run by the hotel. Still, Ray had his own ideas on what they could do--an entire boxful. 

"I have a few suggestions..."

"I'm sure you do, doofus..." (y/n) chuckled, rolling her eyes when he seductively popped a grape into his mouth, trying to look all sexy and cool but failing. He made her laugh, but it wasn't his smoothest move, and she didn't want to spend the three weeks indoors when there was glorious sunshine outside. 

"But I'd like to see more than just the bedroom since you're paying a bajillion dollars to rent this place, so...pool?"

"Are you sure you want to go outside? We could stay here, all alone..." He trailed off, moving his fingertip up her leg in a vain attempt to keep her in his bed, but his beloved wife wouldn't be swayed. 

"Raymond, be a good boy and come swimming with me. I would've thought the shower was enough to cool your jets," she said firmly, wondering how he still had the energy or desire to go again when they'd been at it all morning. 

They'd finished breakfast, leaving nothing but crumb-covered plates and rumpled napkins, so Ray moved it off the bed, grumbling that he'd never get enough of her love and affection, not when he could look down and see the ring he placed on her finger. He'd do as she said, but that didn't mean he wasn't plotting the next time he'd get to fuck her. 

"It was, but this pretty little dress changed my mind."

"Come on, you big doof..." (y/n) giggled, shaking her head mirthfully and pulling him by the hand so they could enjoy something else. 

Rising from the bed, she made for the open sliding doors, padding across the smooth, wooden floor and out into the warm air. She could hear the ocean, gasping when the gorgeous view properly revealed itself under the intense sun. 

Everything looked so much better in the daylight. It showed the vibrant flowers dotting the lush green vegetation, soft sandy paths, and deep azure pool, all set on a backdrop of endless blue sky. It was luxurious and well-kept, ideally suited for their needs as (y/n) approached the glorious water lapping against the volcanic stone steps. The loungers were also plush and sturdy with their amber rattan design and thick, squishy cushions bathed in shade.

"Are you sure no one can see us?" The heroine asked over her shoulder, hesitantly looking around and expecting another couple or family to come around the corner. She'd only ever stayed in resorts with communal pools and beaches, so the idea of having total privacy in the paradise was a little strange. 

But Ray quickly soothed her, confident in his credit card's ability to buy nothing but the best for her. He didn't want their honeymoon spoiled by screaming kids in the restaurant or drunken idiots vomiting in the pool, so he hired his own, meaning his precious wife was free to do as she pleased. 

"No one, sweet girl. There's no one here--just us. Why?"

She didn't reply. Instead, she threw a wink over her shoulder, much to Ray's confusion, who wondered why she dropped his hand and looked at him like that. But before he could question it, she grabbed the bottom of her sundress and peeled it over her head, exposing her curves without a second thought. 

Ray's jaw was instantly on the floor, darkening eyes lusting over her body in what had to be the world's tiniest, skimpiest bikini - so unlike what she'd typically go for. Usually, his sweet girl stuck to cute tankinis and one-pieces, too shy to flaunt too much skin whenever they went swimming.

But this was their honeymoon, and when in Hawaii, alone with your husband - go for it. 

"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath, gaze glued to her ass as she stepped into the warm water, sighing as it soothed her sore muscled. She gracefully glided into the crystal blue, kicking her legs until she was in the deep end, up to her neck and turning to see him gawking. 

"Are you gonna stand there like a lemon or join me, doofus? The water's great!" She called out, treading water as she glanced at his Hawaiian-print 

"The view's even better..." Ray grumbled, still staring at her soaked body and how tantalising it looked when shiny and wet--a reminder of the shower they'd shared. 

She bobbed in the water, pushing her breast into the air so he could see how the bikini top had turned slightly see-through and heavier. It hid and revealed everything he wanted and more, leaving him a speechless, drooling mess - so much so that (y/n) had to splash a little water at her lover to snap him out of it. 

"Come on, Ray! Get in already!" She teased, and finally, he shook his head and found his energy. 

In the blink of an eye, he tore his tight, plain white tee off, thankful that he wasn't wearing regular jean shorts but Hawaiian-print trunks. They fitted his thick thighs perfectly, and she licked her lips at the sight of his toned torso, muscles flexing as he tossed the shirt onto a nearby chair, kicking off his flip-flops, too. 

Given how he strutted toward the pool so confidently, looking like some kind of hot swimwear model, she expected him to stroll into the water with as much grace as she did. But no. This was Ray Manchester. He wasn't known for his elegance and finesse. 

Instead, he took one look at the pool and made a split-second but vital decision. In a single step, he broke into a jog, hurtling toward the water before his sweet girl could scold him for running on slippery surfaces--or cannonballing a couple of metres from where she was. She squealed when the water splashed around her, a near-tidal wave curling over her body and dampening her hair whilst he sank to the bottom. 

"Raymond, I'm all wet!" She shouted once he resurfaced, wiping his eyes and pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes. It was criminal to be so attractive, and despite her whiny tone, she still welcomed him into her arms, grinning when he grabbed her ass to pull her flush against him. 

"You don't say... Just how I like you, darlin'," Ray smirked, earning himself a whack on the shoulder for being so smug and crude, but (y/n) had to fight a smile, too. 

He held her close, thinking swimming wasn't a bad idea, when he stroked her bare hips and felt her hardened nipples rubbing against his chest. The weather was gorgeous, keeping them warm and happy as they kissed, content to stand in each other's arms. 

"This is so perfect, doof... Don't you just want to stay here forever?" (y/n) asked quietly, dropping her head to rest it on his chest, dozing as he rubbed her back. 

"Definitely, if I'm here with you," the hero replied, rubbing his cheek against her head and sighing. This was his idea of heaven, standing waist-deep in water with his nearly naked wife nuzzling into his chest. His words made her feel gooey inside, warming her more than the sun ever could because he knew how to make her feel special--as someone supposedly terrible with words. 

"You know how to flatter a girl, Raymond."

"I'm being serious. There's no prettier sight than you..." Ray cooed, toying with the strings holding her bikini up, but he didn't loosen them - not yet, anyway. He was undeniably tender, soothingly rubbing her back as her face heated up; talk about a smooth operator. 

"Aww, doo--" (y/n) grinned, smushing her lips lovingly against his skin as butterflies fluttered in her tummy, thinking that had to be the loveliest thing someone had ever said to her--a real confidence booster. But Ray being Ray...

"...Naked."

"You just had to turn it dirty, didn't you?" She asked flatly, glancing up to give him a dry look for ruining the sweet moment with his smuttiness, but his cheeky grin melted her anger. It was impossible to stay mad when he was so adorable, giggling as droplets fell from his nose and down his chest, shaken by his laugh. 

He squeezed her hips, toying with her bottoms as he leaned closer, finding his home in the crook of her neck, where he resumed his seduction. If he couldn't have her inside, he'd change tactics, thinking it wasn't such a bad thing to try and fuck her on every surface possible. And that was no mean feat in a villa as big as that one. 

"Oh, yeah... Although I suspect you had a trick up your sleeve when you chose this bikini, darlin'. If you could even call it a bikini..." the man grumbled as her that, laving over his hickeys, leaving a few more. 

"Would you prefer I wear something else?" (y/n) hummed in a high-pitched voice, suddenly feeling needier than she expected, tilting her chin up to give him more room. Her pussy fluttered as his kisses quickened, darting up and down her neck as he kneaded her ass, dipping her fingertips under the sides to feel her slippery flesh. 

"I'd prefer if you wear nothing at all..." 

As the final growl left his throat, the cold pool wall met (y/n) 's back, and she realised that whilst he had her so distracted, he'd drifted them to the water's edge. It dug into her lower back as he curled over her, invading her space and pressing every inch of his body against hers. She could feel him against her hip, hard and aching as if he hadn't had any attention in weeks - a man lusting for her sweet little body because it had been two hours since he'd taken her. 

"Look so hot in this, darlin'. Please tell me you have more like this..." Ray begged, dying to see her in more skimpy outfits - preferably ones resembling two strings and a label than swimwear. 

"I practically cleared the store out, doofus. You'll get sick of seeing me in bikinis."

"Nah... they'll be the death of me, sweet girl. Had a heart attack when you stripped off like that," he confessed, although he got the hint that she already knew that. His sweet girl loved to tease him, and she knew his weaknesses, despite acting all innocent as he pushed and pulled her asscheeks apart, kissing her weak spots too. 

(y/n) gasped dramatically--and not because of his deep, passionate kiss. She smiled against his lips, parting hers to allow his tongue to explore deeper into her mouth as his hand left her ass alone to settle on the edge behind her. He waded closer, grinding his hard cock against her stomach whilst she curled her arms around him, intent on teasing him more. 

"Oh, well--might have to stop wearing, then. I'm not having my husband keeling over just because he got overexcited," she shrugged, standing on her tiptoes to match his height. She curled a strand of his hair around her finger where it grew longer at the nape of his neck and slid a hand down his chest, over defined muscles and down to where his trunks were tenting. 

"You'll just have to walk around naked, then. And I don't mind either way, sweetheart..." Ray snarled, subconsciously bucking into her hand when she palmed his thick length, knowing what it did to him. 

"You're insatiable, doofus."

"I'm not hearing any complaints..." You love this just as much as I do," he whispered, ready to pause at a moment's notice if she showed any sign of being uncomfortable, but his sweet girl was in his palm, lapping up everything he gave her.

She smirked against his skin, stopping a bead of water trickling down his chest with her tongue, throwing all of her earlier grumbling about not wanting to spend all day in bed. Maybe the itch had been scratched earlier, but now, she was hungry for him again. She was practically salivating when her fingers curled around his sizeable length, aching to taste him. 

"I do..." she replied, pulling his shorts down, wanting to see her effect on him and show her appreciation for the luxury vacation he'd brought her on. 

But Ray had other ideas; before his wife could pull him free, he pulled her fingers out from his swim trunks, briefly kissing her wrist before pushing it onto the warm concrete behind her. Another strong arm curled around her body, and he lifted her onto the ledge in the blink of an eye. He used the water's buoyancy to get her hips out and into the sun. 

"Ray!" (y/n) squealed, holding onto his head to steady herself as the balmy air tickled her skin - not cold, but indeed a shock compared to the warm water. The hero grinned at her response, immediately latching his lips onto her hipbone, sucking a bruise over it as he drifted between her parted legs and encouraged her to lay back. 

This wasn't how (y/n) imagined sunbathing on their vacation. Still, she did as he instructed, falling back onto her elbows as he toyed with her bikini bottoms. 

"These are fucking tiny, sweet girl..." he muttered, appreciating how they revealed more of her curves for him to admire. Still, he instantly knew that if they were to go on the beach or any public areas, she'd have to wear something else. No one would catch a glimpse of his pretty girl looking so hot--and he knew he couldn't resist her walking around like that. 

She giggled at his words and how serious his face looked--the same expression he made when reading something more complex than a nursery rhyme or a tricky math problem. Petting his hair single-handedly, she pulled his head closer as he stretched to kiss over her collarbones, clavicle, and bra. The water made her nipples hard, making him grin as he dragged his mouth over them, loving her whines and how she pulled his locks. 

"Pretty girl..." Ray grunted, biting the exposed well of her cleavage as his fingers danced with the ties behind her back. One tug of the silky string and the top piece loosened, falling from around her neck and chest, exposing her breasts for his hungry gaze as he tossed it over his shoulder to land somewhere in the water - where, he didn't care. 

"Gorgeous fucking tits--" he groaned, lightly slapping her perky tit, making her moan as it jiggled.

Kneading one in his hand like a stress ball, he leaned forward and pulled its twin into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak as (y/n) jerked closer to the pool's edge, anxious to wrap her legs around his waist. Even the slightest touch made her want his cock inside her, pulling his body toward her throbbing pussy, looking for any friction as she soaked those bottoms in slick. 

"Doo--doo--doofus?" She whimpered, tugging the hair at the nape of his neck to try and gain his attention - not easy when he could spend all day suckling on her tits. 

"Hmm? What does my sweet girl want?" Ray asked, pulling away briefly when he heard that all-too-familiar, breathless tone she used when she wanted something. He quickly turned his attention to the opposite breast, not wanting to leave her other nipple lonely whilst she stammered to find the words. 

"Pl--please, want y-your mouth..."

"You have it, darlin'..." he replied smugly when she clammed up, too embarrassed to ask for what he assumed she wanted. Sometimes, his wife could have the filthiest mouth on her, willing to do the dirtiest things when the mood struck. But asking for it? It made her cutely shy, and he loved it, wanting to hear her say it. 

"Nooooo..."

"Ask, and you can have whatever you want."

"Ple--please...e--eat my pussy..." she whispered, face feeling like it was on fire because he typically spread her out on the bed and had his fill - no need to ask for it.

But sometimes, her doofus was a little shit, and I liked seeing her squirm as she asked for something forbidden. It wasn't ladylike to be so wanton and vulgar, but she didn't care when he grinned and instantly turned his attention south. 

"Since you asked so nicely..." Ray beamed, looking like the cat who got the cream as he kissed her tits goodbye and trailed his lips down her soft tummy, aiming for his favourite meal in the world. 

Her legs eagerly swished in the water as he took his time, nipping where he liked until he was shoulders-deep in the pool and level with her core. 

"Lay back, darling..." he instructed gently, a big, warm hand pushing against her stomach to encourage her to shuffle back and settle against the deck. She did as he said, disappointed when his handsome face disappeared, but it soon went, moaning when his palms slid past her tummy and pulled her bottoms down in one smooth move. They disappeared into the water, floating away to join the bra, where someone, probably Ray, would fish them out later with a shit-eating smirk. 

"That's it, pretty girl... Let me see my pretty wife and her perfect little cunt." 

Content to lay there and sun herself, (y/n) sighed, closed her eyes, and let her husband do as he pleased, all warm and safe, while he groaned at the sight of her soaked folds. He couldn't wait to bury his face between them, pinning her thighs to the pool's edge. 

Running a finger through her slit, Ray brought it to his mouth, sucking her taste off and moaning - it had been too long since they'd had enough time to let him feast. Between saving the world and losing everything, he'd missed the peaceful moments when time passed with him spending hours between her legs, eating to his heart's content without any concern for the world around them. 

"So fucking wet, sweet girl..." he groaned, brushing his thumb against her clit as she whined into the summer air, head rolling against the stone. 

"Please..." She whispered, cupping her tits and gently thrusting toward him. Ray didn't need begging, not when he was inches away from his heaven, so he held her hips down and hunched forward. 

He nuzzled into her cunt, moaning at the heat surrounding him and how he could practically taste her on the air, wondering why he'd waited this long. A man couldn't live without her sweet pussy, so he didn't waste any more time, dipping his tongue between her folds to gather her wetness on its tips. Pressing it flat against her, he moved from bottom to top, licking a broad strip up to her clit. 

His lips tightened around the sensitive nerves, gently sucking as the heroine wailed, entangling her fingers with his hair, wedding rings gleaming under the radiant sun. Replacing his mouth with a finger, he drifted down to her quivering hole, smiling when he found it as needy as always. 

"Taste so good, sweet girl," the man moaned, taking his time with his tongue as it languidly reexplored her silky walls, dipping into the crevice to drink her from the source. Despite everything, honey always came to mind, filling his senses with the sweetest taste while she made the most adorable sounds. 

"Make me cum, doofus..."

"Shhhh...I will, sweetheart. Just let me enjoy my time with my girl," Ray soothed her, pausing on her clit to paw at her tense stomach, relaxing the clenching muscles. She looked like a goddamn angel, glowing from a sheen of sweat covering her body, illuminated in the sun, making him feral--eager to corrupt her blissful expression with one of pure lust. 

"She's fucking delicious..." The man muttered to himself, and (y/n) wasn't sure if he was talking about her or her pussy, knowing he loved to whisper its own little praises for taking him so well and giving him the nectar he needed to live. 

After taking a moment to breathe, Ray dove back down, not gentle anymore, mouthing over her pussy with a renewed conviction - to see her writhe in pleasure. Though it felt impatient, punishing even with the little nips he delivered on her sensitive folds, the hero knew well what he was doing. Each strike of his tongue was perfectly aimed, flicking from her clit to her dripping hole, drawing patterns that unleashed new levels of bliss.

When he finally sucked on her clit again, she came apart with a deep, choked groan, body locking up as the first wave hit her. It was as gentle but relentless as the heat around her, making her skin prickle when Ray continued his onslaught, wanting to fight through her sensitivity to see her crumble. 

"That's it, darlin'. Keep it comin'," he groaned, slipping a finger into her cunt, pumping it slowly, then a second one, building her arousal again as the duo thrust faster. She caught bits of his raspy praise between her moans and the buzzing in her head, making out words through the noise of vulgar suction and gently lapping water. 

"Good girl...My perfect wife, being so good for me..."

Ray's fingers moved faster, disappearing into her molten core as he groaned, loving how responsive her body was for him. His tongue danced over her clit with broad strokes, suddenly changing into rapid flicking, forcing his free hand to hold her lower half down so she couldn't squirm from under him. When he pushed a third finger inside, her walls tightened, as did the coil in her belly. 

"Ray!" (y/n) wailed, shuddering as she spasmed around his fingers, hands clamped over her mouth to try and stay quiet - just in case someone was nearby. 

Her doofus didn't stop; he merely grinned into her cunt as his fingers pumped faster, moving his tongue over her clit at a blinding speed. Lolling her head to the side, the woman moaned - almost in discomfort - thinking she was beyond oversensitive and worn out for a final orgasm. She reached to grab a fistful of hair, tugging it to try and drag his tongue away. 

"No, doofus--too much--S'too much..." She grumbled drunkenly, but Ray didn't stop - if anything, it encouraged him. He knew she had one more, so he doubled his efforts, quickening his fingers and creating a vacuum around her clit, sucking as if his life depended on it. 

A growl left his throat when she tried to move away, sliding further onto dry land despite the scratch of the concrete against her back. Combined with all the other times they'd fucked in the last twelve hours, she was wrung dry, feeling like she'd cum more in the previous night or so than in the last few months. 

But Ray wasn't having any of it, deeply offended that someone - even his sweet girl - tried to pull his pussy away when he wasn't finished eating. The beefy arm laid across her stomach and pulled away briefly to sharply spank her ass, slapping her thigh, too, when he pinned one to the ledge. 

"I know this cunt like the back of my hand, sweet girl. Trust me to know when it's been fucked good and proper," he snarled coldly before affectionately nuzzling against her, happily smearing her excessive slick all over his face. His intense stare turned her body to jelly, going gooey against the ground while he returned to work. 

The tip of his tongue gently slid down her folds, making her mewl when his nose caught her clit. 

"And I think you can cum for me one more time..."

He was on her instantly, burying his fingers into her to the third knuckle with a new determination, smearing her slick up his wrist. A deep groan reverberated against her sensitive bud as he drank her, riding his own high as his favourite little snack turned placid, allowing him to feast. 

His cock was aching for release, so hard it bobbed upright in the water and occasionally brushed against the wall, but he ignored it. Maybe if he was lucky, she'd blow him once she'd recovered, or perhaps, if he was really lucky, she'd allow him to fuck her tits, thighs, or cunt. But first, he wanted to see her wrecked - well and truly fucked out. 

Ray curled his fingers, aiming for the soft, spongy spot deep inside her that had her undulating her hips in mini-thrusts. For someone who didn't want any more, she quickly became hooked, succumbing to her fate and seeking her next orgasm. Squelching noises filled the air, along with her wails, as her thighs began violently shaking beside his ears, keeping them toasty when they clamped the side of his head.

Her heart rate quickened again, rushing her blood in waves that crushed her senses with the pulsing sound inside her head. She lost recognition of anything happening around her. There was only the growing, almost painful pleasure, Ray's overwhelming, dominating presence, and the stretch of her walls as they hurtled toward the edge. 

A broken moan of "Ray! Fuck!" broke the Hawaiian serenity as he pushed her over, murmuring praises for the convulsing girl creaming on his tongue. 

Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes as he worked her through it, slowly pumping his fingers as she juddered, hiccuping into her hands. Slick covered his lower forearm and mouth, making him look utterly deranged with the glint in his eye. Still, Ray didn't care - he loved it, peering over the plains of her stomach and breasts to fixate on her tear-stained but gently smiling face. 

Her cunt was ruined, a pinkish red and swollen, glistening and throbbing as his fingers slowly retreated. Thighs spread, chest heaving, tits slightly swollen with nipples tweaked still - she made a gorgeous sigh, softly turning Ray's hard, hungry stare for the girl who stole his heart. 

"Beautiful..." he murmured, reaching as far as he could stroke her body, palming her chest and squishy tummy. To him, she was stunning - the most captivating person he'd ever seen, even with her scrunched-up nose, dampened hair, and marked skin. 

Her whole body shook when he slipped his fingers out of her pussy. He memorised each part of her as he licked his hand clean, knowing he'd undoubtedly return between her thighs when the thirst beckoned again. 

But for now, he'd give him some respite, cleaning the last of her taste off his fingers, going down to the last knuckle with a lewd, sucking noise. If need be, he'd use the memory to get himself off later, depending on whether his precious wife was feeling up to taking him or not. 

"You're a menace, Ray Manchester..." Was the first thing (y/n) said when she came around, not knowing how long she'd been out, but she snapped into reality to the sound of her doofus whispering praises. 

He chuckled at her sleepy expression, climbing out of the pool in one impressive leap onto the ledge. A shadow shielded her eyes and body from the blazing sun as he hovered over her. Cool, damp skin caused goosebumps when he pressed against her, cock prodding her thigh when he needily nuzzled her neck. 

"But you love me, Mrs Manchester..." he whispered, sounding rarely vulnerable as a hand cradled him against her, craving his coolness against her scorching body. Remind him to slaver her in sunscreen later...

"I do...I love you so much, doofus."

"I love you too, sweet girl. Always have, always will," he swore, grinning under the golden light as his pure-hearted girl dozed beneath him. 

She was always so precious after having her brains fucked out. 

~A couple days later~

They had to leave the villa at some point. 

Three days into their trip, Ray and (y/n) were still tangled in the sheets, splashing in their private pool or tanning on the sun beds. It suited them, not needing more than their slice of paradise to be content since delicious food could be delivered to the room, and Ray doted on his sweet girl. He satisfied her every need, but even paradise grew samey. 

"Are you going to get ready, doofus?" (y/n) asked from the vanity unit, where she'd been sitting for the last fifteen minutes doing her hair. After eating in for the previous few days, nibbling between rough, passionate sessions, she was eager to see what the resort had to offer - a fancy restaurant. 

They hadn't done anything fancy since arriving, and she was itching to show off on the man of her dreams' arm--that they deserved luxury too. The restaurant boasted five stars and four courses, meaning she had to bring her A-game - hair, nails, makeup, and dress done to perfection. 

She was already reaching for her makeup bag, having washed and dried her hair and hung up her pretty dress. It showed off her curves, thighs, and cleavage--everything Ray loved to touch and look at--so once she enhanced her natural beauty, it was just a matter of hailing a cab and making their dinner reservation. 

Although for someone who'd reserved a table - and paid a deposit - for a high-class restaurant, Ray didn't seem particularly fussed. 

She met his eye in the mirror, pausing with an eyeshadow brush, dusted in a smoky shimmer, hovering near her lid as she watched him relax on the giant bed behind her. His large frame covered most of the mattress, stretching in his smart, tight black shirt and dressy trousers and resting against the pillows - watching. 

His hooded eyes followed her every movement, scratching his pec innocently when she cocked an eyebrow at his lax mood. He hadn't quaffed his hair, done his tie, put on his jacket or shoes. It was decidedly un-Ray-like for someone who prided himself on his appearance, especially when he was following his gorgeous girl around like a lost puppy. 

He just laid there, looking all cocky and hot, as he stared at his pretty wife, who was clad in no more than her best underwear whilst she painted her face. 

"In a bit... I'm enjoying the view..." The hero replied, tucking an arm behind his head to prop it up so he could watch her better. It would take him ten seconds to become presentable, meaning he had a spare minute or two to take in her beauty. 

Maybe it was the heat, the romantic setting, the high of finally marrying his sweet girl or a mixture of both, but Ray was insatiable. He couldn't help it, constantly seeking her warm, bare skin against his to satisfy his unending yearning. 

It was tiring and always left them sore since their powers weren't back to normal yet. Still, the man couldn't stay away, crawling into her arms to fuck her over and over or eat her sweet pussy when she grew weary. And, bless her soul, his darling wife never refused, welcoming him into her bed night after night, although she insisted on tonight. 

A romantic meal in different surroundings, and whilst Ray wanted her all to himself, he couldn't deny her. So, dinner it was...but first, he needed her again. 

"What view? I'm not even dressed yet," (y/n) frowned but returned to her blending, brushing a soft, dark powder across her eyelids to create a plain base, focusing on her reflection rather than the pouty doofus behind her. 

"Exactly... Absolutely stunning." That made her smile, bare skin warming despite the breeze from the open windows. 

Ray wasn't subtle with his admiration, raking his eyes over her exposed curves and wishing he could get his hands on them. She seemed so far away, even though he was only a metre or so out on the bed, and he longed to drag her into his arms, even if it was merely to cuddle. He couldn't help it if he was in an affectionate mood - any man would be if they were watching an angel working their magic. 

"How are you not exhausted? We barely slept at all last night..." His precious wife remarked, sounding slightly miffed, but her face was pleasant, giving away that she wasn't angry - more amused. 

Ray dragged her to the nearest comfy surface to have his way every night- or even every free minute- whether with one of them on their knees or spread for the taking. Over and over, he fucked her senseless, never appearing satiated or exhausted, unlike her, who whined for mercy when he pushed her over the edge for the fifth time. 

But he was shameless and undeniably insatiable. And last night had been no different. After a brief dip in the pool, the heroine wandered into the main room, wearing only her damp swimwear. She was looking for a drink and snack in the mini-bar when a strong arm curled around her stomach and pulled her against a toned chest. The rest was history, ending with her braced against the coffee table as he pounded into her from behind. 

"It's the bikinis, sweet girl... Seeing your perfect lil ass walking around the place makes me so damn hard..."

"I noticed. I'm still not walking straight..." She replied amusedly, shaking her head as she smeared glitter across her eyes, recalling how her sexy black bikini had to be binned after he ripped it to shreds. She didn't hate it, given that she begged for more and initiated round two on the couch, but he didn't need to know that. 

Even though he already did. 

"Well, you were begging for it, darlin'. Screaming my name...so it's not entirely my fault," Ray smirked, feeling his cock twitch in interest at the memory of the previous night's activities. When she clawed at him like that, leaving deep, scarlet scratches down his back, he couldn't help but want to make the most of the night...

"Get dressed, you big doofus," (y/n) told him, rubbing a little eyeliner on her lower lash line. She hoped her disinterest would persuade him to wear his tie and shoes, but Ray yawned. Yawned. 

It made her meet his eye in the glass again, wondering why he was so relentless, rolling around the sheets like a stubborn cat who wanted to nap and not be disturbed. She watched with narrow eyes, pausing her makeup for the millionth time as he sighed and ogled her body, seeming tighter in his pants than usual. 

"Nah... I'm happy here. I think we should just stay here..." the hero groaned, the unmistakable heat creeping up his spine as he palmed his growing bulge. 

She'd turned to the mirror again, ignorant of his arousal, so she didn't see how his eyes became hooded and hazy, darkening the more he touched himself whilst drooling over her pretty hips and tits in that lingeries. 

"I'm hungry, Raymond," (y/n) said firmly, dusting her cheeks in bronzer and blush, noticing his movement out of the corner of her eye. But she didn't think for a minute that it was smutty. Usually, Raymond was more proactive, preferring her touch to his own. Still, he wasn't beneath dirty tricks - the dirtier, the better sometimes. 

"I'll order room service," he counteroffered, thinking with his lust-addled brain rather than his heart. Of course, he wanted to take her out to dinner, eager to be the man on her arm as they entered the dining hall, but couldn't they quickly fuck first? 

The more he rubbed his hand over his crotch, the harder he became, tenting in his fanciest trousers until his cock pressed against his zipper. Hot and heavy, a rumble emitted from his chest as his stomach fluttered, sights set on the reflection of her cleavage when (y/n) leaned forward to inspect her eyeliner. 

He couldn't take it. He needed her more than he could put into words, and if she was busy, then there was only one thing for it. Ray took matters into his own hands - literally - as he silently unbuttoned his pants and yanked down his zipper, exposing his underwear just enough to pull it down and pull his cock free. 

Taking it in hand, he gave himself a gentle pump to test the waters, his mouth falling open when it gave him the relief he needed. It didn't match her mouth or tight pussy, but it was enough for now, making him pliant and vulnerable, aching for his angel to take care of him. 

"Touch that phone, and you'll sleep in the pool."

It was an empty threat as (y/n) knew she couldn't sleep without her doofus, but she certainly meant business. Nothing came between her and food, especially a four-course meal, not even her adorable idiot. 

"Ugh...but darlin', look..." Ray complained, and she knew that throaty, whiny tone anywhere. Her gaze snapped to him, mouth dropping open and liquid eyeliner pen smudging a wiggly line when she saw the debauched sight on the bed. 

It shouldn't have affected her so much, but she couldn't help it, not when he looked so...fucking hot. Head thrown back, chest heaving, pants undone, cock in his palm, Ray was a vision, moaning loudly now that he had her attention. His lust-blown eyes held her, groaning unashamedly as he jerked his fist, twisting his wrist when he picked up speed. 

"I want you so bad..."

"Ray..." She said breathlessly, makeup forgotten as she watched with wide eyes. Her cunt clenched at the sight, gulping as his hand stroked over his flared head, the one she'd kissed and licked that morning to wake him up. 

It's what he was thinking about, flashing through memories of her crying underneath him, of filthy whispers, of how they shared the gentlest, most peaceful high of his life earlier. He needed something to aid his pleasure, sensing how dull everything felt without her in his arms, her scent spiking his senses. Mere memory would have to do, although he refrained from stumbling toward a release, knowing his precious seed deserved to be buried deep inside her where it could perhaps take root. 

"Why are you so far away, sweet girl, when you could be sat with me?" Ray cried, feeling like his darling girl was worlds away as he closed his eyes and bucked his hips - making quite the erotic sight for her as she studied every move closely. Licking her lips, (y/n) felt her brain short-circuit when he spat into his palm to lubricate himself, allowing his tight fist to move faster. 

"I'm getting ready, doof. Can't--can't do my makeup on the bed..." 

The words felt clumsy on her tongue, barely thinking as she focused on the glorious cock peeking out at her. Suddenly, she longed to taste it, going dumb and needy - a reminder of how he'd managed to seduce her so many times before. She could barely think, her pussy ruling her mind as it begged to be filled--to be taken as was her true purpose. 

"You can... Just get up here and wrap that pretty little pussy around my cock. Make an honest man out of me," Ray replied throatily, jerking faster at the thought of finally feeling her heat. 

He didn't need much, just a squeeze and a chance to make her cum, and he'd spill. And he could be good, keeping his hands to himself whilst she kept him snug and finished her pretty makeup. It wasn't like he had a track record of distracting her...

"It's all I need, sweetheart. Fuck--I just need to feel you around me. No funny business, I promise."

"It's always funny business with you..." (y/n) gulped, imagining hauling herself onto the bed and sliding down his thick length. She really shouldn't have been so needy and slick--should've been sore and uninterested after how many times she'd taken him, but she guessed her super-regeneration was returning, giving her the ability to take him over and over--and it never got old. 

She knew where this road would take them. Ray didn't have a restrained bone in his body regarding sex, and he saw cockwarming as foreplay. If she sat in his lap, his hands would be everywhere, and she'd undoubtedly end up squirming, pleading for movement. 

She really wanted that dinner...but she suddenly found herself hungry for something else. 

"Please?" His begging was the final straw. (y/n) took one look at her forgotten eyeliner wand and then at her doofus, deciding on the spot she wanted his cock nestled within her walls. 

She couldn't help it, not when he distracted her with the filthy, wet sounds of him fisting his length, tortured groans, and the whimpers of her name. 

"We'll have to be quick..." she breathed out, hurriedly gathering every product she needed and dumping it in a flowery-printed bag. It didn't have to be neat or zippable, just enough to transport everything to the bed, which she dashed over to with an embarrassing neediness. 

Ray smirked as she conceded and shimmied out of her soaked panties, glad he still held some power over her. It was flattering to know that she wanted him so badly--that he knew her well enough to seduce her, even against the temptation of food. He welcomed her into his arms, letting her back rest against his chest as she guided his tip to her dripping folds. 

"You're--fuck--you're lucky I love this cock, Raymond."

"Feels good, darlin'. Thank you..." The man groaned loudly as his sweet girl settled against him, tipping her head back as she sank down on his cock in one smooth move. He slid in perfectly, filling her drooling cunt, making them both moan as Ray curled his arms around his wife, nuzzling her affectionately. 

Her thighs met his, seating her against him snuggly like a queen on her throne. Ray didn't know what to focus on, touching and squeezing her hips, covered breasts, and sliding down to her pussy. He was in heaven, rolling his hips to push into her as deep as possible as he scented the perfume dabbed on her neck, taking deep lungfuls when he buried his face against her. 

"Can I do my makeup now?" (y/n) asked breathlessly, thinking it'd be impossible to concentrate with her husband invading her senses. 

He had hands like an octopus, occupying every inch of her skin simultaneously, making it impossible to want to stay still. She ached to move, rise and sink, spear herself on his cock, or let him rock into her - God knows Ray wanted to as he whined against her skin. 

It would've been so easy to melt into his chest, be carried off on the waves of pleasure, and forget her earlier petty complaints about his insatiable libido. But one look at the ornate silver clock on the vanity unit telling her they had just under an hour before their reservation, and she resisted. 

"Sure..." Ray smiled, settling into the pillows as he stamped down the instinct to pound into her. He was content to sit there as promised, gently warmed by her molten heat. He could distract himself with how pretty she was, watching as she did her makeup and trying to ignore how deep he was buried in her. 

This would be interesting...

Resting calmly against the headboard, the hero lovingly stroked her hips as (y/n) finished her eyeliner, working with her shaky hands to draw the black lines. It wasn't perfect, but she didn't have much choice, putting the liquid liner away when she clenched around the cock inside her and found that it made her clumsy. 

She couldn't concentrate, dying to move, but Ray's hand was firm, holding her still in his lap as the other gently squeezed her breast. Whether deliberate or not, it was maddening to feel him so deep, stretching her so deliciously, but he refused to move. 

This was his plan; she just knew it. He was being clever, refusing to try anything because it was funnier to watch her struggle when she'd been all high and mighty about not fucking. 

But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking for it - no way. Instead, she picked up her mascara, unscrewed it, and brushed it through her lashes, ignoring the doofus behind...even if he was growing restless. 

"This is nice..." Ray murmured as he kissed her throat, unbothered by the slick drenching his lap. He'd happily walk around with the stains smeared across his pants, even at dinner. 

"Uh-huh."

"You're looking gorgeous, sweet girl..." He turned up the charm, snaking his arms around her tummy to cup her cunt - not moving, just holding it gently as she squirmed. 

"Do you flatter all the girls like that, Raymond?" (y/n) asked amusedly, pussy fluttering when his fingers slid over her lips. 

She was suspicious of his motivations, although the feral part of her hoped her pushed her to the mattress and fucked her properly. Still, she continued prettying herself, carefully nudging the wand against her lower lashes as Ray chuckled. 

"No, just one..." 

As if he would ever try so hard with another girl when he had his soulmate naked and creaming on his cock in his lap. He tapped his middle finger against her clit, highly entertained when she jolted at the stimulation and choked when he gave it an experimental rub. 

"G-good..."

"She's beautiful...smart...and fuck...her pussy is like a dream," he sighed as he played with her, slowly circling her clit with two fingers--just because he felt like it. 

(y/n) yelped at the contact, dropping the mascara wand in surprise, but she didn't care, not even when it created a greasy black smudge on the floral bedspread. Her breathing turned to panting when her throat seized up, blocked by a choked moan as he sucked her earlobe into his mouth. The hero flexed his hips when she melted into him, jostling his cock inside her as he rubbed her clit slightly faster. 

"Just can't help but want to keep it filled with my cock...my cum."

"Y-you sa--said n-no funny business, doof..." the heroine moaned, fumbling to retrieve the mascara and safely tucked it back into the tube. 

The look was almost complete, save for lipstick, but she felt like adding it would be a bad idea, given that she wanted nothing more than to smush her face into his neck and ride him. They'd end up smudged in red stains, not a good look when you're already fucked out from a rough, pre-dinner session. 

"S'not my fault, darlin'. This pretty little clit looked lonely," Ray joked, biting her jawline as she moaned, grinding her hips into his lap as he stroked the sensitive nub. He laved over her skin, tugging her lacy bra down to reveal her nipples - desperate to pull and tweak them. 

"I'm...busy." He didn't believe her. 

(y/n) set her face in a straight line, trying to keep herself calm since she hadn't put on her dress, and he wasn't even close to being ready. But he made it difficult, squirming underneath her to move his cock against her walls whilst doubling his speed on her clit. She knew this would happen, but she only had herself to blame as she began rocking back into him. 

"Really? Well, then, by all means, carry on, sweet girl. Make yourself look pretty while I'll make you cum," her husband suggested, despite knowing how this would end. He had half a mind to raise her body and pound up into or push her forward to press her into the sheets, but he resisted. 

"Let's see who finishes first." He preferred the competition. 

She whimpered as he circled her clit, giving her immense pleasure but never moving. He grunted quietly at how she responded to his touch, and the tip of his finger drew tighter circles over her clit, making it near impossible to argue with anything he said. He could've asked her anything, and she'd agree, instantly turning cock-dumb when impaled on his impressive length. 

"Make me cum, doofus... Need it," (y/n) wailed, tilting her head until her lips pressed against the curve of his jaw while his hand steadily worked her pussy. 

"Thought you were busy..." he replied cockily but rubbed faster anyway. He couldn't ignore her, aching to feel her heat tighten around him like he'd wanted all evening--ever since he saw her step out of the shower in nothing more than a tiny towel to cover some of her modesty. 

"Ray!"

"But I suppose if my sweet girl wants my attention, she can have it. She just needs something to cum on, don't you?" He asked, chest rumbling as he rubbed impossibly harder, heat turning the room hazy. 

"Yes..."

"You need my cock, don't you?" He asked further, bucking his hips in micro-thrusts as she tilted her head against his shoulder, feeling her high just around the corner. The pressure built slowly and then, all at once, spurred by the tiny friction in her crevice and his skilled fingers. 

"Yes!"

"Then, cum on it, sweet girl. Soak my cock--let all those pretentious fuckers in that restaurant know who's my girl..."

Her body tensed and squeezed him, and Ray shushed her before she realized she was making those tortured noises - screams of pleasure as her cunt spasmed. His free hand settled tight over her mouth and guided her to turn her lips toward him, swallowing her wails with a filthy kiss full of tongue and teeth. 

He licked into her mouth, tangling their tongues together to taste her sweet honey. As she came down from her high, her ass slowly stopped, ceasing grinding against his crotch as the first flutters of oversensitivity tickled her pussy. 

Breaking the kiss, Ray buried his face into her neck and started groaning again, whispering low praises into her ear in his deep, rumbling tone, and she had to remind herself to keep breathing. His fingers enveloped her clit again, rubbing through her moans about it all being too much, cock throbbing hotter than sin, building pleasure into an intense, slow crescendo.

"Hmph... You come so quickly after the first one, darlin'. So...so fucking good for me...G-Give me another--s-squeeze me, pretty girl..."

Ray couldn't help but gasp and pant as he talked her through it, staying perfectly still while engulfed in her drenched, fluttering cunt. His hand fondled her breast for dear life, holding it like an anchor as he refrained from fucking into her. He was stimulated by the smugness of tempting her into his wicked games, knowing she was willing all along, yet he had to wait his turn. 

His words pushed her over the edge, nodding pathetically as she followed his instructions--because she was his good girl, strangling his cock when he pulled her nipple.  

She couldn't help but squeeze him tightly, digging her nails into the forearm stretched across her tummy--the one still playing with her folds. Her back arched against him, knocking her nose against his jaw when she thrashed her head from side to side, breath catching his ear as she convulsed. 

"Perfect girl...doin' so well for me," Ray groaned, barely feeling the sharp claws leaving red crescents in his skin as she drenched his cock, soaking his pants and underwear even more. 

"So good to me--to let me fuck you like this. Think you deserve a little more..." He said softly before rocking his hips into hers. The slight contact felt heavenly, leaving her slack-jawed and limp as he held her hips and thrust into her, creating a gentle, slapping rhythm against her thighs. 

(y/n) leaned forward a little, eager to give him more room to manoeuvre. He grinned at her desperation, stroking his hand down her curved spine as he began pumping fluidly into her, already at the end of his tether after teasing her for so long. 

The position - folded in half from behind - gave him the perfect angle to hit that spongy spot deep inside her. He pulled her ass into him repeatedly, lifting his hips to meet hers as she moaned and thumped her fists against his thighs, fucking strong and steady. 

"F-fuck--fuck me harder!"

"I--I got you, sweet girl..." he promised, twitching faster until their bodies shook, covered in a sheen of sweat from the humid weather. 

He was careful not to ruin her makeup but curled a hand around her throat and pulled her back into his chest. Their skin was scorching, and everything suddenly felt a little too hot, but the rutting didn't stop, shredding heaven inside her as Ray sank his teeth into her shoulder. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum..." he grunted, licking over the bite mark as she whined, ready for his cum - wherever he gave it to her. She wanted that--feeling him engorging inside her made her cunt flutter again, signalling she was close for the third and final time. 

"Give it to me, doofus--" she begged, clenching around him like God commanded, wringing her out until she gushed around him. 

She couldn't fucking breathe—the pleasure was too overwhelming, her face was scrunched in painful pleasure, threatening to smear her mascara, eyeshadow and eyeliner with tears, yet his assault was still relentless. She could only close her eyes, furrow her brows, crack her mouth open to pant raggedly, and let him own her body as he pounded toward his release. 

The heavy, wild thrusts stole every sense away from her, plunging into her ruined hole, shaky as he growled praises and curses--thanking those who gifted his sweet girl to him and hating them for not making him last longer. She didn't even feel him pulling out of her until a splash of hot liquid shot up her back. 

"Fuuuuuuck...so pretty...perfect...love you..." Ray roared as he swiftly jerked his cock to completion, releasing over her arched back until she was coated in his pearlescent cum. He groaned as every drop erupted, squeezing the sensitive tip with the sight of her pink, puffy pussy to add to his pleasure. 

"Oh, fuck...doofus," (y/n) whimpered as she bowed to him, happily accepting his precious gift, even if she preferred his cum inside. She knew Ray loved seeing her sated and claimed, smiling when she felt it trickling toward her ass. 

Her doofus was an ass man, through and through. It ought to please him, and she hoped he was satisfied enough to make it through--for now. 

"God--you look good all painted in me. Shows everyone who you belonged to." True enough, he squeezed her hip when he finally came down, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath as he committed the erotic view to memory. 

He loved seeing her like this, knowing he was the only one who did it to her--his signature would tell them to stay away, too. She nodded sleepily, reaching to rub her eyes before remembering they had dinner plans. Fuck, she felt like she could sleep for a hundred years and wiggled into his warm touch, barely finding the brainpower to reply. 

"I think...I think they already know from the way you make me scream. I bet the whole island can hear me..." She said shyly, wondering if anyone lost on the beach or any passing worker heard them fucking--namely her screeching to high heaven. 

It wouldn't surprise her, but the thought made Ray smirk as his hands explored her waist and ribs - avoiding the expanse he'd cum on. He wanted that to stay like a picture longer, even if they were still hurtling toward their reservation. And honestly, he didn't care if they figured it out - she looked gorgeous like this. 

"True..." Ray grinned, eyeing her wedding ring as she clenched her fists. He knew it wouldn't ward off every fucker trying his luck, but it would do a damn good job. The symbol of his promise to her...

"But I love this...The prettiest sight," he said softly, swiping a finger through the mess on her back and bringing it to her lips. 

(y/n) sucked it into her mouth without hesitation, groaning at the familiar, salty taste. How it made her sore walls clench again - Ray couldn't help but smile at his sweet girl. His sweet, greedy girl as she licked her lips and awaited the next blob, knowing he wanted to clean her up in the best way possible. 

And not a drop would be wasted. 

"We're gonna be so fucking late for dinner."

~

They weren't. Not really. 

Well, they were late by traditional standards, but all things considered, the couple arrived at the fancy-schmancy restaurant in style. 

Her hair and makeup were slightly ruffled and smeared, her dress was a tad rumpled, and to any observant person's eyes, it was clear what they'd done, not that (y/n) cared. She followed closely behind her doofus, wearing a polite smile, who looked worse than her with his rushed quiff, creased shirt, and crooked tie. 

Ray was such a smug bastard, strolling into the joint like he owned the place and not like he'd had to dab his pants to remove the more... noticeable stains covering his crotch. He had no regrets, smoothly shaking the head honcho waiter's hand as he introduced his companion--his love--his wife. 

They were escorted to their table with no witty comments or raised eyebrows - that's not how the hotel worked. They specialised in privacy, no questions asked, and (y/n) guessed they were used to seeing overexcited honeymooners smooching and stumbling from a quick fumble in the shadows. 

"You look beautiful, sweet girl..." Ray cooed once they were settled, sipping a fine Cabernet Sauvignon. 

He held her hand over the table, stroking her thumb and waiting for their first course of tadpole's eyeballs or whatever they served here. He was more of a burger-and-fries kind of guy, but if his wife wanted a romantic dinner, he would give her one. 

"No thanks to you, doofus. You really did a number on me..." (y/n) replied with an almost shy smirk after putting her wine glass down, watching as he beamed and relaxed into his plush, velvet chair. He filled it perfectly with his bulky frame, looking like a king against the gilded background of red carpet and crystal chandeliers. 

"I think you look even better like this. Look at the other people here...Do you think they'd ever fuck thirty minutes before coming to a place like this?" 

She almost choked on her saliva at his hushed words, scanning the room to check that no one heard him. Talk like that would surely get them thrown out, but as she gazed at the crowd, observing all types of people, she realised her doofus had a point. 

They all looked far too snooty to contemplate doing something immoral and raunchy. All the old ladies turned up their noses at the smallest glimpses of affection from the more lovey-dovey couples around the room, including them. Their husbands didn't spare them a glance, too busy on their phones or eyeing up the pretty waitresses to value their wives' company. 

It was sad, but it reminded (y/n) of how lucky she was - to have a husband willing to deface his reputation just to show his love for her. It was sweet in Ray's own unique way. 

"I suppose not..." she conceded, tenderly stroking his hand as he looked at her with those big, puppy-dog eyes, all attention on her. 

It made her chuckle, thinking about their mad rush to get ready once the orgasmic haze lifted, patting down hair and cleaning clothing, making Ray so antsy that he nearly bit the head off of the taxi driver who came to pick them up. And luckily, it was the same plucky kid who'd helped carry their bags on the first night - the flirty one. The one her husband didn't like. 

"You know, you've scarred that kid for life. He doesn't even know what thermoplasmic ultra detonator is, let alone how far you can shove it up his...you know what."

"He shouldn't have flirted with my wife," Ray shrugged, recalling how he grabbed the kid's collar and held him against the hotel's brickwork before he could say je ne regrette rien. He may have made a few threats, but he wasn't sorry, not even a little bit. 

His sweet girl was angelic and unassuming, so she didn't see how that kid leered over her. While she saw naïveté, Ray saw impure thoughts with his learned eye. He was once a twenty-something-year-old - pretty girls are pretty girls, married or not.  

"He wasn't flirting..." (y/n) insisted, knowing whether that boy tried it on or not, it wouldn't work on her. 

"He said you looked pretty."

"He was looking for a tip!" She exclaimed, smooching his knuckles when her poor love pouted, remembering the memory with a sour expression and displeasure. Admittedly, the boy was a little too chatty during the ride along the bumpy road, but she could deal with that, even if she preferred to talk with her newlywed lover. 

"And I gave him one. Come near my wife again, and I'll make your butt explode," the hero sniffed cooly before taking a large gulp of wine. He looked so handsome in the soft, warm light, making her tummy somersault and flutter when he grunted and frowned, roused by the helper's persistent flirtation.  

"Oh, doofus..."

"And I think he got the message," he said, smiling when the memory faded a more positive one - when the boy fled with fear in his eyes at Captain Man's wrath and strength. He wouldn't be returning to their villa on any errands soon. 

"I did, too. My doofus is as grumpy and adorable as always, and I have my hands full with him..." (y/n) cooed, cutely rubbing her nose against his palm as she lifted it to her face again - utterly besotted with her beloved doofus. 

He smiled at that, stroking her cheek as they leaned in as closely as possible, ignoring those who cast a judgemental eye over their open affection. If they could, they'd be making out over the table, but this wasn't some dirty roadside diner; there had to be standards, so the rich folk would have to be content with their enamoured smiles and minimal smooches and think themselves lucky. 

"You flatter me, sweet girl..." Ray winked, images flicking into his mind of her on her knees, wide, naive eyes looking up at him, mouth propped open as she prepared to take what she squeezed in her hands... No, not thoughts suitable for the dinner table. 

"You make everything dirty, don't you?" But (y/n) saw through his smirk, practically reading his mind when she watched his gaze darken, fists clenching. Utterly shameless...and insatiable. 

"Given the chance..." He grinned, kissing her fingertips under the gaze of a haughty lady a few tables over. She was probably just jealous and didn't deter his affection as he proudly nodded, unashamed to admit his lust and love for her - but he wasn't the only one. 

"Although you're just as bad as me."

"My darling doofus, whatever do you mean?" (y/n) gasped, pretending his improper accusation scandalised her - that she was a lady of loose morals. She falsely clutched at her chest, where a dainty diamond pendant necklace that matched her earrings lay - a gift from her doofus for their last anniversary. 

But her wide eyes and open mouth waylaid a dirty secret, known only by them as Ray gulped and stuttered, breaking his relaxed façade. 

She'd slipped her heel off to wriggle her toes free under the snowy white tablecloth, hidden from the critical eyes around the room. Strangely, she wasn't usually one for teasing or public naughtiness. However, a mischievous mood swept over her, encouraging her to trail her foot up his calf, tickling Ray's skin. She had only just had him, yet his hunger had infected her, making her crave more. 

"I--I mean, you're sliding your foot so far up my pant leg that you can count the change in my pocket," the hero gulped, eyelids fluttering as a groan lodged in his throat, provoked by how she rolled her toes over his pants' zipper. 

Since when was his sweet girl so devilish? Her movements were oddly skilled and gentle, the slightest squeeze making him want to sweep the table and bend her over it. 

"I was innocent of the world's ways before we started dating. Look at me now..."

"You've always shown a lot of technique for someone so innocent--Shit, you're killing me here, darlin'," Ray groaned, thinking they both came into the relationship with prior experience. However, he'd always been the more knowledgeable and experienced, leading her into pleasure-filled oblivion since she was more pillow princess than punisher. 

Her touch was heavenly, making him shut his eyes tightly as she leaned on her elbows and fluttered her eyelashes. Her arms were tucked into her sides, pushing her breasts together to create a glorious path to her cleavage, and Ray couldn't help but stare. To onlookers, it looked like he'd banged his knee or something, and they'd never guess that the woman was making him harder than steel. 

"Oh, you haven't seen all of my tricks..."

"Really? You fancy sharing?" He asked, eyebrows twitching in interest as she shrugged, acting like she wasn't alluding to something...sensual. He was more intrigued by seeing her in the throes of her passion than being teased so torturously. 

"Husbands and wives shouldn't have secrets, sweet girl."

"Be a good boy and eat your dinner. Maybe I'll give you a special treat if you do..." (y/n) whispered, winking flirtatiously as she removed her foot, highly entertained when her doofus whimpered.

She grinned when his hips bucked in her direction under the table, knowing she only had to pretend to drop her fork to look underneath, and she'd see a rather large problem in his trousers. Or, she could slip under entirely when no one was looking; a carpet this plush wouldn't leave any bruises on her knees. 

But no...she was committed to teasing him like he did to her; after all, it was rather sly how he seduced her right before dinner. 

"You're offering me...dessert?" The man asked, his voice dropping a few octaves as he gulped, hoping no one had overheard their teasing conversation. He was down for that, dropping a few hundred dollars on the table and returning to their villa for something a little...sweeter. And it got even better when she leaned forward, narrowly dodging her wine until their faces were almost touching. 

"Better than anything they serve here," she nodded, craning her neck to chastely peck his lips before sinking back into her chair and taking her wine glass. Ray's fist almost shattered his, needing a few large mouthfuls to calm his raging lust after being so riled up. 

"Fuck me, sweet girl..." he groaned, rubbing his eyes while reaching down to adjust himself - conscious of how his cock noticeably pressed against his zipper--just as the waiters arrived with their first course. 

He had no idea how to make it through dinner when she looked at him like that, already cursing his decision to let her leave his bed. 

"Oh, I plan to, doofus."

~

"You--Fuck, sweet girl--you drive me insane--"

Those words were music to her ears, making (y/n) smirk in the warm glow of the porch light. 

Dinner had been excellent fun--for her, not for Ray. He'd kept his promise and eaten his dinner like a good boy, albeit with a grimace facing like his fancy food was sour.

After teasing him like that with her slipperless foot squeezing on his cock, he'd slumped back into his chair like the brooding grumpy pants he was, conversing politely and sipping his soup with a dark glint in his eyes. He seldom lost focus, maintaining eye contact with his love whilst she explained an idea for them to go snorkelling with dolphins. 

The actual eating part wasn't so bad; it gave him something to focus on, and neither could say it wasn't delicious. For a moment, Ray forgot about his raging hard-on and enjoyed the meal, liking how they could spend quality time together in such a posh location. His sweet girl looked so pretty, wrapping him around her little finger with every joke, anecdote, and plan. 

But when dessert came, he remembered why he loved her--and why he'd wanted to sneak off to the bathroom earlier. The final course was a fancier version of chocolate-covered strawberries and ice cream, all whipped and shit to look better than it was. 

But at its core, (y/n) knew what she was doing, taking a strawberry and a bite while holding his gaze. Her lips curled around the sweet flesh, licking lightly to mop up any scarlet juice threatening to trickle down her chin, and he couldn't help but follow her lips. Her sultry movements reminded her of how her lips wrapped around his--

He was forced to sit there and make her enjoy every last little bit. And (y/n) milked it, moaning at the sweetness of the chilly dessert and exaggerating how she bit chunks off the strawberries. He steadily swelled in his pants again, ready to pounce when she patted her mouth dry with a napkin and hailed a waiter for the bill. 

After slamming his card down, Ray ushered her out the door, a hand strategically resting on her ass while they waited for someone to drive them back to the villa. Cut to reaching their holiday home after a very handsy car ride, and he was desperate, making his move once the taxi driver - thankfully an older gentleman utterly disinterested in flirting with his prettiest passenger - drove off. 

"Doofus, I'm trying to get the--the door o-open," (y/n) said between giggles and kisses, her back pressed to the front door with a leg hitched over his hip as her lover frantically kissed her precious lips and neck. 

He was achingly hard, prodding her hip as he growled and nipped a line down her throat, thinking more with his dick than his brain. The villa key was limp in her hand, almost slipping through her fingers as she pressed his face further into her neck, enjoying his touch. 

"You little minx... Teasing me like that..." He grunted, palming her ass and breasts through her sexy dress. He felt like he was losing grip on his control, going feral when he buried himself in her soft body and sweet scent. 

"I should've spread you out on the table...Fucked you right there--let them all watch."

"We both know you don't share, doofus," (y/n) smirked, practically feeling the possessiveness rolling off him. She loved playing this game with him, winding him up until his resilience was hanging by a thread. Usually, she relented after a little while. But not tonight. 

No, tonight, she wanted to shake things up, and it started with her beloved doofus being good for her. And he was as he nodded furiously and smothered her against the door, blocking anyone's view from her lush body when he tugged her skirt further up her thighs. 

"I don't. Shit--you're all mine, sweet girl," the man whined pathetically, fumbling to feel her silky skin under his fingertips as he struggled with taking her right then and there or taking her away from prying eyes.

"Even if you drive me insane."

"You love it--took it like a good boy," she replied softly, petting his chocolate locks as he nipped her neck and squeezed her thighs. He couldn't help but want to spread them and bury his face between them--perhaps let her sweet moans overtake the chirping crickets as the sound of the night. 

But he couldn't. It wasn't appropriate out on the porch - where any hotel staff member or holidaymaker could stroll past their day. So, he decided to get her inside, preferably on their bed, where he could settle her on the plush bed and take his time. It was better that way and not a moment too soon - he felt as hard as fucking steel. 

"Get that door open, darlin'. I want to fuck you."

"Ah--ah--ah!" But (y/n) stopped him, booping his nose with each abated word. She looked positively saccharine; her smile was bright and sweet while her hands smoothed down his jaw and neck with her usual tenderness and adoration. But her doofus wasn't having that...

Ray pulled away with a confused yet grumpy frown, looking at her like he didn't like what she said. He wanted her now, but she wiggled away, pushing her hands against his chest and raising her knee between them. 

"Don't withhold this sweet lil ass from me--" he grunted, reaching around her body to try and grab another fistful of her backside, but she wouldn't let him. 

In a shocking, daring move, his sweet girl circled his wrist before he could lay a hand on her, gripping his tie instead. She yanked the satin material, pulling him down to her level so their lips almost grazed together. 

"Oh, I'm not, doofus. But tonight, you'll sit back, relax, and let me sit on your cock," she whispered, nudging forward to give him a ghost-like kiss--barely there, gentle, with a kitten lick of her tongue to make him ravenous. 

It was like Ray's brain short-circuited, making him instantly submit to her as she curled his tie around her finger. He gulped at her pleased smirk, feeling his cock pulsate while processing what she was saying. 

He could see it now; her above him, naked and glorious as she had her way with him. He'd be a fool to reject that. Ray wasn't so full of himself to think he had to take charge every single time, so he relented, resting his hands on her waist - a safe choice - as he awaited her first instruction. 

"Does my pretty girl want to be in charge?" The hero asked, feeling his loins burn at the thought - it was rare to see her like that, although he had no idea what was in store for him. 

"She does..." (y/n) nodded, tracing her nail over his expensive shirt as she fluttered her eyelashes, already feeling her underwear starting to stick to her thighs.

"So, you gonna let your wife have what she wants, or...?"

"Whatever my wife wants, she can have," Ray conceded gruffly, ready and willing to get down on his knees if she commanded it. Not yet, but (y/n) was biding her time, smirking as he groaned into her gentle kiss. 

He followed her lips eagerly, swallowing everything she gave him as a hand slid to the front of his pants to palm his hard length. He hissed at her touch, feeling like a stupid teenager, ready to cream his underwear as she delicately bit his lip and pulled away, panting. 

"Hmm... I'll remember that." With that, she grinned, patted his cheek, and pulled away, turning her back on him to put the key in the door and unlock it. 

She pushed it open, waltzing into the villa like her husband wasn't lusting after her. Ray tumbled into the room behind her, subconsciously rumbling in his chest as he loosened his tie. The room felt balmy and warm, almost suffocating for him as he tossed his suit jacket onto the couch before storming forward to take her into his arms. 

But he stopped, thinking better when she raised a finger - wait. Licking his lips in anticipation, Ray watched patiently as his sweet girl removed her diamond earrings and necklace, placing them on the coffee table before shaking out her hair. Next, she kicked off her heels, enjoying how she could wriggle her toes freely as she walked to the kitchenette, where they kept a bottle of chilly champagne in the mini-fridge. 

"Sweet girl?" Ray asked tentatively, not wanting to step on her authority when it risked him getting some tonight. Still, he was confused by her lax attitude. 

If it was him, he'd have her on the bed, legs spread, with his face squished between them, but he infamously had little patience. (y/n), however, had plenty of it, turning around to face him with an amused yet passive face as she poured herself a glass of bubbly--like she wasn't ravenously horny too. 

"Yes, doofus?"

"Um...Are we--do you--can I...?" Ray stammered, suddenly all tongue-tied as she stood there, analysing him. He'd said the filthiest things, whispered the most vulgar stuff in the pitch blackness, but he couldn't ask. That would be...too much. 

"Are we...what?" The heroine giggled, utterly amused by his pink cheeks and stammer, unlike the confident hero she knew and loved. She knew what he wanted; she wanted it too and craved his cock deep in her walls as he moaned beneath her. 

"Y'know..."

"You looked so handsome tonight..." she murmured, ending his misery and sauntering to him. 

She took a long sip of the champagne before stroking his chest, licking the expensive stuff from her lips. He blushed at her words, feeling all fluttery and loved as she pulled him into another filthy kiss. Her tongue swirled with his, allowing Ray to taste the delicious alcohol with her honeyed sweetness. 

"Be a good boy and go lay down for me. I'll be there in a minute..."

She panted once they'd pulled away, connected by a small string of saliva as Ray desperately nuzzled into his precious wife. He needed her so badly with every fibre of his being, pressing his bulge into her hip as she soothingly played with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

"Don't be long, pretty girl..."

"Ah--no demands, doof--" (y/n) warned him, wanting no orders from him when she ran on a confidence high. She would follow when she was good and ready - when he was squirming. 

"I'm in charge tonight, so go to the bedroom, strip, and lay on the bed. But, uh...leave the shirt and tie."

"The shirt?... And tie?" Ray asked, glancing down at his black ensemble and wondering what she could mean. He knew she'd like it since the shirt showed off his muscly arms and lithe torso, but the tie? No idea there. 

"What? They're sexy!" She giggled, smacking her lips jokingly at his broad frame, making Ray chuckle and shake his head. 

But he did as she said, slowly undoing his belt buckle as he turned toward the bedroom. Brazenly, he stripped his lower half, kicking his pants and underwear into a corner as she watched with hungry eyes. His ass was so cute and pert--and she could only imagine his chiselled abs as he unbuttoned his shirt. He didn't shrug it off, sticking to her rules like a good boy. 

The plan had been to drag everything out, make him wait, and go in to see her doofus wrecked before she'd even laid a finger on him. But (y/n) was needy, too, leaning on the back of the couch, sighing, and rubbing her thighs together once she was alone. 

God, she wanted him, feeling herself soaking through her panties to the point where it was clinging to her thighs. The champagne took the edge off, gulping it down and pouring herself another glass like liquid confidence; it would loosen her tongue and make her movements fluid. 

After a few minutes of sipping the bubbly, she knew it was time to go and see her doofus. He was probably dying in there, so tempted to touch himself, but he knew she wouldn't like that. And who was she to keep him waiting when he behaved so well?

So, she put the flute down and folded her arms around her back, aiming for the zipper on her velvety dress. It was a lot easier when Ray peeled her clothing off, but she managed it, twisting her body so she stood only in her black, lacy underwear. After their little...activity earlier, she'd changed into fresh panties, and luckily, they were one of his favourites. 

Retaking her drink and spinning on her heel, (y/n) turned toward the bedroom, walking with a sway in her hips. Her bare skin prickled in the balmy air and Ray's stare as he came into view, waiting on the mattress as instructed. However, he looked maddened, eagerly sitting up when his goddess came in. 

Ray gulped at the gorgeous sight she made, wishing he could relieve himself, even just a little bit. Yet he knew that wouldn't end well. Instead, the hero ended up ungraciously humping the air and groaning, ruined by the sexy underwear set she'd hidden under that damn dress. As if he wasn't hard enough...

"Fuck, sweet girl...look so pretty."

"Thanks, doofus. Such a good boy for doing as I said," the woman smiled, feeling beautiful under his reverent gaze as she sidled up to the bed, channelling her inner sexiness when she hovered at the edge. 

"Mhmm--does that mean--can we--please?" The man bumbled, eyes glued to his sweet girl as her hands smoothed over her stomach, gaze flickering to the bulge in his boxers. 

He was dying, craving physical touch, and it was almost impossible not to wrap a hand around himself. But he resisted, focusing on her sultry movements and how gorgeous she looked in those panties. His wife made him tongue-tied and blushy - it was adorable. 

"Please...?" And (y/n) loved teasing him for it, admiring Captain Man in such a vulnerable position. 

"Fuck me! Just...please, sweet girl. You know you want it," Ray pleaded, thinking she couldn't be serious as she stood there, looking all innocent with her hands on her hips. 

He didn't know what else to do but tempt her, reaching to cup his solid length and squeeze it so she could see how the thickness throbbed--hoping the sight would be enough to get her in his bed. (y/n) wouldn't lie; seeing him palming his cock made her clench around nothing, tongue poking out to moisten her lips as she remembered how good he'd felt earlier on. 

"I do..." she nodded, sipping more champagne before leaving the glass on the vanity unit so she could crawl up the bed. Ray's lips twitched in a smile, glad to see her approaching, but to his disappointment, she stopped halfway to lay between his lips. 

"I love this cock..." the heroine mumbled with a soft expression, nuzzling and mouthing over his twitching length, loving it when her doofus threw his head back and groaned. It wasn't enough, but her touch provided some relief, leaving darkened marks where her wandering tongue swiped over the cotton. 

"It's yours..." Ray choked out, fully submitting as (y/n) hummed, stroking his muscular thighs. 

She moved on, kissing his hip bone before stalking up his body. The heroine paused intermittently to kiss or suck little bruises into his skin, paying particular attention to his Adonis belt, abs, and pecs. She couldn't say she didn't love his body, smoothing her hands over his arms until she was at his neck. 

"Gonna ride me, sweet girl? I love seeing you bouncing on my cock..." he asked hopefully, tilting his jaw upward as she grazed her teeth over his Adam's apple and licked over his jaw. He entertained her desires, allowing her to take his wandering from her hips - where he'd been pulling her into his crotch - and pushed them over his head. 

"Something like that..." It was cute seeing her grinning when she pinned his hands to the pillows, some master plan in her head as she kissed him. He had the right idea because riding him sounded perfect, but it wasn't what he probably imagined. 

"But first..." Instead, she giggled to herself and snaked one hand from his wrists, leaving one near the headboard to keep his hands hostage. He could've easily overpowered her, but he didn't. He wanted to see how his sweet girl dominated him, thinking it would be easy to roll her over if he had enough of the teasing. 

Assuming his sweet (y/n) wouldn't do anything bold, Ray just laid there, smiling happily like an idiot as her hand traced circles on his chest--before roughly grabbing his slackened tie. His eyes shot open, puzzled by the change of pace as her finger wormed its way into the loose knot, yanking it until it was one long piece of silk in her grasp. 

"Wha--wh--what are you doing, darlin'?" Ray stammered, wide-eyed--almost fearful as (y/n) curled the tie in her hands, snapping the material to test its strength. It was good quality, sturdy, and hard-wearing, perfect for her plan. 

So, with a smirk adorning her face, the heroine swiftly looped the silk around her doofus' hands, keeping them fixed to the rattan bed frame when she threaded it through the headboard. Ray's mouth bobbed as he tried to find the words. He was so utterly stunned that it was easy to hurriedly knot the tie in a Burlington bowline - easy, quick, and almost undoable. 

It wasn't too tight, not wanting to leave raw markings on his wrists later, but she didn't want him breaking free, giving the tie a tug to double-check its security. He pulled his wrists, too, whining when he realised that this was her plan to give him a look-but-no-touch ride. 

Could he survive that? Probably not. 

"Remember this knot? You taught it to me just after we first met. I've been wanting to use it on you for ages..."

"Fucking hell..." Ray groaned, thumping his head against the pillow as he pulled and pulled, just to end up stuck. 

He couldn't move, wanting to hold her hips or squeeze her tits, but he couldn't. All he could do was dig his stupid fingernails into his stupid palms, cursing the day he taught her to do a few knots. It was just a joke back then--something to make his pretty young helper laugh and impress her. He never expected her to remember his Scout's lesson and use it as...as...bondage. 

"I want to touch you, sweet girl. You--you can't expect me to sit here and--"

"And what? Take it? Try it, doof. I'm Miss Danger. You're not getting out," (y/n) gloated, sitting back and admiring the picture he made - strong body flexed with his tree trunk-like arms straining against the unbuttoned shirt and fixed above his head, abdomen clenching and flexing under her fingertips, highlighting his hidden strength. 

He was beautiful, but Ray wouldn't be defeated. It wasn't like he wanted to resist--lord knows he had her in the same position hundreds of times--but it felt instinctual. The guy was a superhero; when he found himself bound and helpless, he had to fight to get free. Otherwise, it was lights out, and he couldn't switch off, not even when he had a goddess above him. 

"I'm Captain Man. I--I can--I can--I can do this--"

"Sorry, doofus. You know what they say..." But (y/n) knew him better, leaning down to pepper his neck with soothing kisses, ready to stop if needed. But she wanted him to settle down, knowing his ego wouldn't go down without a fight. 

She needed to be smart, kissing up to his ear as he struggled underneath her. If there was one person who could quench that fire, it was her, fully aware that Captain Man could fight an army, but not Miss Danger's wiles. 

"I'm your one and only weakness," she whispered before sucking on his earlobe, pressing her soaked panties into his cock. 

"Fuck--" Ray swore, screwing his face up when she rocked against him, the seam of her underwear in line with his length, providing him with enough glorious friction to distract him from trying to escape - sort of. 

He still wanted out, rubbing his wrists against the soft material out of instinct. Her hips looked perfect for gripping, practically made for his hands to hold as she ground against him, so he couldn't help but squeeze them. But he couldn't. All he could do was lie there and take it, watching with dark, hooded eyes as (y/n) buzzed with excitement. 

She'd never had so much freedom - barely knowing what to do now that she had the Captain Man as her personal doofy toy. 

"So big..so brave...but really, you're just my doofus," she muttered, trailing her tongue down his neck toward his chest as he moaned. He'd been hard since dinner, which seemed like a lifetime away now, and now, he had to endure such torture. He was gonna die. 

"And I love how you melt for me."

"Oh, God, sweet girl..." Ray moaned in a high-pitched voice, surprised when his sweet girl pulled his nipple into her mouth, biting and sucking on the sensitive buds. 

They were so sensitive, making his skin pimply and hair stand on end since he never noticed it. The sensation made him like steel, jumping against her slick slit as she tweaked one and worked on the other. God, she needed to play with these more. 

"You're gonna be a good boy and do as I say."

"I am already, aren't I?" Ray retorted brattily, sticking his nose up childishly as her tongue swirled along his skin, hand dipping into the shirt to push it to the sides as much as possible. Yet she wouldn't remove it; seeing him tied up with the garment rumpled on his torso made her doofus look debauched. 

Although, she wasn't too happy with his bratty attitude. 

"Such a grumpy doofus--just because you can't get your own way," she pouted, pulling away to sit back on his cock, but she didn't move. He didn't deserve it, not when he was a sourpuss. 

"I want to touch you," Ray grumbled, although he tried to look a little happier. He hated to rain on her parade, but she was his sweet girl - she belonged in his arms.

Still, (y/n) relented, thinking that her control didn't need to be mean--that wasn't her style. If her doof wanted something to do, she'd give it to him - something fun, something he could put his mind to, something that would put him in his place. 

"Okay...you can."

"Really?" The hero asked, looking slightly surprised since his dominance was always his word, hand, and rules. He never relented, yet he didn't know what she had planned.

"Really, really. Stay there."

That was her little joke, eliciting a small giggle from the woman as her husband gave her an unamused look. He couldn't budge an inch, thanks to her sneakiness, making him whimper when she climbed off him entirely. 

"No...come back. I'll be good--promise!" He begged like a child, jerking his head up until his chin pressed into his clavicle, watching as she hopped off the bed. 

She laughed at the pure terror on his face but quickly showed him what she wanted. As pretty as it was, the underwear had to go, so she unhooked the bra, tossing it over his body as Ray wolf-whistled. 

He never failed to make her smile, practically drooling as she kicked off the panties, too - what a shame he was bound to the bed and couldn't show his appreciation. However, when her love complained, she soothed his worries, clambering back onto the bed. 

"You'll be good..." (y/n) muttered, poised above his body so she could slowly make out with him. Ray moaned into her mouth, enjoying her sweet lips before she pulled away, smirking. 

"Please, darlin'...I need something."

"So much talking... I think we need to put that mouth to better use," she told him, finally seeing her doofus smile when she shuffled up his body past his hips, stomach...chest. 

He knew where she was headed, head sinking into the pillow with a dopey grin as her pussy came into view, hovering over his mouth. Now, that was more like it, and he was already licking his lips, ready to please his wife as she got comfy.

Planting a knee on either side of his head, she angled herself over his head, conscious of not squishing him, even though Ray was already lifting his head to get closer. His fire had returned, spurring him to begin the moment her folds were close enough - he could see how wet she was, how fucking delicious she looked. 

"Fuck, get those thighs around my head, sweet girl..." he groaned, wanting to feel them like ear muffs, pillowing him better than the duck-down behind him while he feasted. 

"Less talk, doofus," (y/n) commanded, gliding her hands through his hair, pushing back the strands that stuck to his clammy forehead. 

"You know what to do..." He didn't need anything else, deeply wanting to please her like he innately knew what to do. God, they should've done this years ago, providing him with the perfect job - fuck Captain Man. 

He could've happily spent all day there, taking his first few tentative licks through her cunt to relive the fucking perfect taste. He nosed her clit, and closed his eyes, thinking he was born to serve her, to drink her down. He found his rhythm, still wishing he could touch her, but her silky flesh was enough to distract him, and he quickly learned to alternate between her needy hole and clit. 

She moaned with a sweet smile, slowly grinding down on his face but never going further. Like anyone, she was terrified at the thought of crushing or suffocating him. She was merely bold enough to kneel above him, not truly sit. 

And that wasn't good enough for Ray. 

"Closer..." he murmured, resorting to asking since he couldn't tug her closer. She did as he said, thighs shaking from the controlled effort of lowering herself, even though this was supposed to be a tongue workout for him, not for her core. 

And it wasn't nearly enough to satisfy him. His tongue could explore and flicker, but he couldn't fully swim, forced to merely dip into her folds because his neck could only stretch so far. Ray wanted to be overwhelmed with her, to feel her body pushing onto him, willing to drown him. He wanted her to sit. 

"Sit, sweet girl. Wanna taste you properly."

"I am sitting, doofus," (y/n) replied absentmindedly, too dazed by his performance to care about whether she was truly comfortable. Her aching thighs and abdomen could be ignored whilst he sucked on her clit and fucked his tongue into her--it was enough. But not for Ray, who thought if they were gonna try it, they might as well do it properly. 

"I mean, properly sit," he said firmly, knowing he could take it. He craved burying himself in her sweet pussy, wanting to feel her slick dripping down his cheeks and hear her moans like shouts. 

"Who's in charge here?" The woman asked with a slight frown, tugging his hair a little to show her displeasure. It felt...good. He didn't need to do more, and she was still gripped by her fear of hurting him for her pleasure--she could manage like this. 

"You, darlin'. You, of course, so fucking use me," Ray conceded, treading carefully around her dominance--her turn on top--but he wanted her to let go. It wouldn't be enjoyable if her mind was half-focused on something else, namely, trying not to hurt him. 

But he was Captain Man - the mighty, indestructible hero. On his insistence, she lowered by a centimetre, riding his promise that he could take it. It helped a little, giving Ray a fraction of space to suckle on her folds, plunge his tongue deep inside her, and swallow everything leaking out of his sweet girl. 

But it wasn't enough. The man needed the weight. He wanted to be buried in the pussy he loved, like he was in charge. As if he'd shy away from eating her out, he prided himself on practically living between her legs. It was his favourite meal, activity, everything. 

Deep in his throat, he growled a displeased groan, which snapped her out of her pleasured daydream and back to him. Her pussy clenched - hard - reminding her how much she wanted his mouth on her to replace the emptiness of missing his cock. 

She grew wetter from each tender stroke, throbbing so much it was almost painful as his tongue struggled to reach the places it usually did. He liked going from top to bottom, getting to all areas before making her cum. 

Looking down, she realised he was staring at her with undisguised lust, burning through fiery discontent; she was his honeyed fountain, and he only wanted to dive in - as stupid as it sounded. 

But, frustratingly, he was being held back. Blue eyes met hers, harsh but begging to give him what he needed--waiting like a good boy. 

"What's wrong, precious girl?" Ray asked, sensing her hesitation. Despite what many said, he wasn't entirely ignorant of others' feelings, knowing there was something deeper to it. 

"Hmmm?" And still, (y/n) played dumb, ignoring the heat on her cheeks as he stared at her, lightly licking just because he couldn't stop. 

"If you're gonna sit on my face, sit. Don't tease me by keeping this pretty pussy so far away."

For a long minute, she didn't say anything. Instead, she released his chocolate locks to grab the headboard, sighing because she wanted to. Good God, she wanted to be animalistic--bring the same energy he did when he was in charge. But she wasn't...brave enough. Too many what-ifs. 

"Okay, but just saying...If I, you know...If I..."

"If you what, darlin'?" He questioned tenderly, using his voice as a balm as he watched her squirm in discomfort--his most hated sight. 

"Honestly, Ray...I can just hover. It's fine--" she offered, adjusting her position, shuffling her knees to lessen the ache in her thighs, meaning she was an inch higher. 

His eyes darkened as he lifted his head, and even without his words, she knew what he was thinking--that she'd made a mistake. Wrong thing to say. And it was definitely the wrong thing to do—taking away his pussy after he asked to do his job. Even with her in charge, one rule still stood - no one took away his second-best girl. 

"I don't want you to hover. That shit is insulting, (y/n)," Ray said in a severe voice - a rare thing. She gulped when her real name fell from his lips in such a deep grumble, letting her know he meant business whilst he was still brushing his lips against her drenched pussy. 

"Sit, sweet girl. And when I say sit--" he paused to suck on her clit, stretching as far as his neck would allow - a long, hard bolt of pleasure that made her howl and jerk forward with a soft cry. At last, she was closer, wanting more. 

"I mean, sit."

His head fell back on the plush pillow, welcoming her pussy into his mouth. Her lowered height gave him more room to manoeuvre, and he got to work instantly, clenching his fists when he lapped at her dripping hole. 

"That's it, my perfect fucking girl."

"Oh, god, doofus--" (y/n) moaned, subconsciously dropping closer to his mouth--the source providing her with heaven. Heat pooled in her stomach, swirling in tandem with his tongue around her clit, and once he started, Ray couldn't stop. 

"Suffocate me, darlin'. Drown me. Let me eat until I can't anymore. Seriously, if I leave this world with my face buried in your sweet pussy, then fuck yes-" he hissed, closing his eyes briefly while he imagined it--easy enough when her thighs clenched around his ears. 

Man dead and sent to heaven. Drowned in honey. Wife left in bliss. 

"Fuck--that's how I want to go, and you better not take that from me. Let me go out doing what I love," the hero rambled passionately, wishing he could hold her hips and pull her down, wondering how he'd never thought of doing it before. God, he didn't have to work hard - her pussy was all around him. 

But he didn't have to wish; mid-rant, (y/n) slumped, slack-jawed and letting her weight fall on his face, so her doofus mashed his nose and mouth into her cunt. His loving words entranced and bolstered her to be more confident, rocking her hips into his mouth in mini-thrusts. It made her laugh breathlessly, thinking she'd never let him drown, but he could try. 

"Play with my clit, doofus. Make me cum..." she ordered softly, still gripping the headboard, but one hand returned to his hair, yanking a tuft. And her doofus was only too happy to serve. 

"Yes, ma'am..." he muttered, tickling her clit with the tip of his tongue. Usually, he'd have the added benefit of his fingers knuckle-deep in her cunt, but he was up to the challenge. He balanced giving attention to her sensitive bud with his prominent nose to place his tongue at her hole, smiling as he teased it. 

"Finally, a decent fucking meal..." 

He devoured her, his dexterous muscle plunging into her in place of his thick finger. It channelled her juices down his throat, happily swallowing her honey-like taste as he nuzzled silky flesh like a comfort blanket. He was fucking home, moaning obscenely as her pure essence got him off. 

"Shit, Ray--don't stop--right there--" his angel cried, riding his face as he groaned, wanting more of everything - her slick, moans, movement, love. 

His tongue quickened against velvety walls, thrusting slowly in and out of her hot cunt as she descended in sensual rolls. Her head tilted back, eyes closed as she whimpered, knowing her end was close when electricity raced down her spine. 

"Good girl. Let me have it, darlin'. Use me."

"Don't stop--so fucking close--" Ray never would, enjoying himself too much to angle his face away from his feast. His tongue rubbed against her walls, smearing his face with arousal as she released a strangled cry. 

A strong urge overwhelmed her, like a lightning bolt surging down her spine, as she moaned and shook around his head. He felt her orgasm before it came, grinning into her folds as she clenched around his tongue, releasing a wave of juices into his mouth. 

"Fuck--Ray!" (y/n) cried as she came, her orgasm uncoiling as he drank everything, licking and sucking non-stop until she collapsed on the headboard. Her hand needed to hold something else; he'd be bald if she kept holding his hair. 

Little moans left her mouth as she swayed, not knowing when to stop as he kept going. He loved the sensation of her walls twitching on his tongue, lost in her sexy sounds as his strong arms pulled at his bonds. He was gonna touch every inch of his wife when he was free.

Eventually, though, it was too much, and she lifted herself away when his touch turned torturous--much to Ray's disappointment. Still, he placed a final kiss on his pretty little girl, thanking her for the drink as (y/n) shuffled back to sit on his abs, spent and stayed - for now. 

"Good?" He asked with a smirk, knowing his lower face from his nose down was utterly drenched, and he didn't care. That's how he liked to see his precious wife - smiling and glowing after he'd pleasured her, not wondering if he could handle her. He definitely could. 

"Very good, doofus--haven't cummed like that in ages. We should try it again..." (y/n) replied breathlessly after a few moments, needing to settle on his stomach for a moment to regain her strength and thoughts. 

She'd lost her authority for a moment, but that was okay. Power and dominance didn't come naturally to her. Still, they enjoyed themselves, coming out the other end sweating, panting and smiling. Some more than others...

"Imagine how it'll be when I'm on my full game. Untie me, sweet girl, and I'll show how good it can be," the hero gloated, gesturing to his hands as she giggled and shook her head, thinking of a million more games she wanted to play. 

He was cocky, but she loved that, already clenching again at the thought of him with all his assets available. Stroking his chest, she leaned down and kissed him, turning tender in her post-orgasmic glow, softly making out with him like they had all the time in the world. 

"Next time, my love..." she promised, rocking her soaked pussy against his abs, loving how the chiselled grooves provided her with gentle friction. Maybe, if he was lucky, she'd clean off her slick with her tongue later, but before that, she had a bigger issue. One that must've been agony for her poor baby. 

"First...we need to take care of this."

"Uh..." Ray gulped, suddenly going from cocksure to silent, a faint pink blush dusting his cheeks as (y/n) reached behind her to cup what she smugly assumed would be his raging hard-on. 

She expected to find him stiff and throbbing, her fingers itching to grasp his cock and perhaps tease him a little more, but that's not what she found. Instead, her fingertips touched something moist and sticky, making her eyes widen, and her head whip around to see something unexpected - yet highly amusing. 

A stain marked his underwear, seeping through the black material to make it even darker. It took her a moment to figure out - feeling a little dumb after such a powerful climax that she couldn't put two and two together. 

But then it fell into place, and she broke out into a grin, realising that this man - the man who could fuck her for hours without breaking a sweat, enduring her countless orgasms - had cummed early. Without so much as a squeeze on his cock. The power of her pussy got him off like her pleasure was his--and it was a fucking high. 

"Raymond...did you cum just from eating me out?" (y/n) asked, looking like she'd won the lottery as she brought her hand to her mouth, tongue darting out to taste the faint traces of his cum. 

He smiled shyly, looking anywhere but her face because it was a little embarrassing--he was as in love with her pussy as he was with her. Everything about the experience made him lose it; from the bondage to her intense climax, it was so hot to him, even though he'd wanted to hold out a little longer. 

And he was afraid to admit it once his cheeks cooled down. 

"It's like I said, pretty girl. Let me go out doing what I love..."

~Days later~

The sun's rays painted them golden as Ray and (y/n) strolled down the beach - their beach - hand in hand. 

They'd been on the island for a week or two, the days and nights blurring together, but it felt like forever. Everything was perfect - mornings spent in bed, afternoons with the knowledgeable locals, and evenings like this... 

Ray felt like he was walking on air, not sand, nose full of sea salt and eyes glued to his sweet girl as she excitably recalled snorkelling with a plethora of life in the warm sea. He'd never known what it was like to relax truly, but walking the deserted shoreline taught him something. 

He could happily spend the rest of his life there with her, fuck everything, and sleep under the stars with his wife without returning to the stresses in the city. She looked happy, squeezing his hand as they dodged the gently lapping waves creeping up the sand. 

But how could she not be happy?

Her doofus could take her hiking, swimming, painting, dancing, and dining; none of it would measure up to this simple thing. It didn't require money, big words, or their fanciest clothes - just their time. And they had that for once. Enough time to fulfil a little dream of hers. Not a big thing, but something she would choose over anything - it meant the world. 

If there was one thing she'd always wanted to do, it was this. A walk. On a Hawaiian beach. At sunset. The dream she'd always dreamed of but could never do. 

It wasn't much, but it didn't need to be; his company was enough - like it always had been. (y/n) wore her cutest sundress, keeping her jewellery inexpensive but sentimental - the sweetheart necklace from their anniversary, her grandmother's earrings, and, of course, her wedding rings. Everything screamed love and eternity, looping back to the man who made her dreams come true. 

It was one thing to want to watch the sun go down by herself, but to share it with someone else? They'd have to be pretty special in her books, and he was - standing there in his partially unbuttoned white shirt and jean shorts. 

When she felt swept away by it all - the overwhelming joy of being in dreamland - he anchored her. And she loved that. Loved him. 

To live her dream with the man she loved would forever be etched in her memory. The roughness of the sand, the tumbling heat, the glow around the beautiful scenery - the ocean. She'd always loved the sea, which seemed silly for someone who'd always lived in bustling, overcrowded cities. Why long for something you can't have?

It became even more challenging when she began picturing Ray beside her--as if her boss would ever want to traipse across the country for something she wanted. She hated herself sometimes, thinking he wanted more just to be shot down. Hawaii was so far away, but the distance made her grow fonder -- and Ray, too. 

Her dream became his, taking the idea of a beach at sunset and running with it after she timidly shared it one night while watching one of her rom-coms. Suddenly, he was there too, dying, begging, wishing to be the man she'd trust to carry something so precious. But the hero thought he'd never have the chance, left to scavenge scraps like when he faked a beach in the Man Cave just to catch a glimpse of true happiness. 

He never thought he'd see it for real, yet her smile was worth waiting for. 

"It's nice here," Ray mentioned, kicking a tiny pebble into the water as they roamed paradise. 

Nice was an understatement, given that the scenery was like something out of an oil painting. If it wasn't for the angel next to him, he'd be unable to tear his eyes away from the pinks, purples and oranges of the sky, turning the palm trees black and the sea a deep violet. 

"It is... It's beautiful," (y/n) nodded, squeezing his hand as she hugged his arm and grinned, not wanting to be separated from her husband for a second. 

She was taken by the island's magnificence much more than he was, meaning she didn't see how Ray stared at her. Her bright smile entranced him, and he hung on to her every word and giggle like music to his ears. And that dress... he'd never seen someone so adorable. 

"Yeah...you are."

"I was talking about the island, Raymond," the heroine corrected him dryly, thinking her loveable idiot had left his mind in the gutter again. He was probably thinking about her nakedness or some other smutty thing, so when she glanced up to give him a pointed look, she was surprised to see his gentle eyes and even gentler smile. 

"And I was talking about you. This view has nothing on you, pretty girl," he cooed, bringing her knuckles to his lips as she stared at her bare feet. 

It was always difficult to respond when he was so damn romantic, making her swoon and feel like the luckiest girl in the world. She felt like the heroine in some epic tale, and he was the strapping guy written to save her heart. Her heart pounded in her chest, beating stronger with each loving word, and Ray had no plans on stopping. 

"You sound like one of my rom-com characters, you silly doofus," she giggled, wondering if all the movies they'd watched had rubbed off on him, even though he was invariably snoring by the time the big confession rolled around. 

"That's the plan. I know you love those mushy characters."

It was true. (y/n) loved her sentimental movies, the ones where a bad life became good through the power of love. A very cheesy notion, but it always worked out for them, and the lead girl always got her man, just like she did. God, her life felt like a novel sometimes...

But her doofus was real, insisting he walked nearest the sea when she complained about the wet sand sticking to her feet. He took the brunt of the waves and listened to her like her words were gospel, not just some funny anecdote about a girl she knew at college once. 

Denza...something. 

Her viewing and reading only got so far as soothing her lonely heart, pointing her toward a real-life hero with arms like tree trunks and a football-sized heart--with an ego to match. She loved the escapism of Christmas films and steamy vampire romances. Still, it was nothing compared to her heart-pounding, toe-curling, gut-clenching love for Ray. 

"Not as much as you. Fiction has nothing on my doofus--he's better than movies and books."

"That's a goddamn badge of honour, sweet girl. I'm flattered..." The man laughed heartily, thinking he'd never be as perfect as all the floppy-haired schmoozers in those films. Such movie guys wore red flannel shirts and loose scarves and always met their soulmate by spilling coffee on her. At least when they met, the coffee was already spilt...and there was an unconscious criminal. 

They fell silent for the next few minutes, with Ray wearing his badge of affection like the grin on his face - brightly and proudly. Walking a little further, (y/n) suddenly felt a little emotional, knowing she had the sand between her toes and the ocean to her right like she'd always imagined. But it wasn't those things that made it special; it was her love - her sweetheart of a husband. 

"Thank you, doofus." It came out like a whisper, her voice breaking as she hugged his arm tighter, trying not to cry. She'd forgone makeup, going all-natural since it was just them, so there was no artwork to ruin. Yet it felt wrong to shed tears; this was her happy place, where some of her most cherished memories would form, starting now. 

"For what, sweet girl?" Ray asked softly, stopping their amble to turn and gather her in his arms. Her tears and sniffles spooked him, making his chest clench in worry. 

"For bringing me here. For this vacation. For marrying me. For everything," (y/n) replied quietly, snuggling into his chest and tucking his nose against the sliver of skin exposed by his open shirt. Like always, he looked hot; sleeves rolled up his forearms and thighs exposed in those shorts--that should've made him cry, how gorgeous he was. 

However, she showered him with praises and heaped them onto her doofus for treating her like a queen. It felt like more than she deserved, although Ray was quick to argue, pushing her hair out of her face before fondling her cheek, thumb brushing her bottom lip. 

"You know that I'm bigheaded..." he started, a rare display of self-effacement for one who often tooted his own horn. No one knew that better than (y/n), who giggled through her blurry vision and nodded, shoulders shaking mirthfully. 

"Oh, God, yes..."

"But I can't accept credit for this, darlin'. This is your dream. Your beach. Your sunset. I wouldn't be this happy without my wife, so I should thank you."

"And I'm sharing it with you, doof," she argued gently, reaching up to cup his cheeks as Ray looked down. He made it sound like he was an intruder, destined to observe as she lived her dreams merely, but she didn't want him to think like that. 

It threw her back to simple, if lonelier, times when Hawaii was a retirement plan. It was not somewhere she ever expected as a honeymoon destination because her heart belonged to a man she couldn't have. But it all changed one evening after another crazy day in their hectic lives when Ray pushed aside that ego and showed his golden heart. 

"Remember when you brought Hawaii to the Man Cave? Ice cream, Piña Coladas, TV?"

"You mean when Schwoz thought the world was about to end because of a supervolcano?" The man laughed, remembering that day like the back of his hand. He danced with her, fully expecting to lose everyone he loved, and still, he didn't have the balls to tell the love of his life how he felt. 

He didn't know why that was relevant, save that it was a small token of his love to make her smile. Looking back, it had been lovely, just two friends dancing around their feelings after the drama died. Still, he regretted it to that day that he didn't share his love that night after thinking he'd never see her again. 

"Yeah... Remember I wanted to tell you something?" 

"Vaguely..." he nodded, reverting to that fateful evening. It was dark and cosy - purely romantic, not that he'd admit that. But once the ice cream had gone, they'd snuggled in to watch the 'sunset'; he remembered how she'd gone to speak, only for Schwoz to interrupt. He never found out what that fuzzy little weirdo interrupted, but now, he had an idea...

"I wanted to tell you I loved you right then and there. Two years before I actually did...and you know why?" (y/n) whispered, still feeling the same butterflies from all those years ago. 

"Why?"

"Because at the end of all things, you didn't do something for yourself. It was for me. My silly dream... And I knew that if I ever got to do it for real, I wanted you to walk that beach with me."

"Sweet girl..." Ray choked up, amazed that such a small, shitty, unplanned night had impacted her so much. 

He didn't think much of it since it was before he could truly show her how he felt because, really, what was a fake sunset compared to a real one? And that hadn't even been his idea, so he didn't count it as a genuine gesture, not when he'd pull the moon and stars from the sky if she asked for them. 

"You have no idea what I'd do to make you happy. Just to see you smile..." the hero whispered, eyes crinkling and watering as he smiled, filled with a pure, light emotion he'd long sworn wasn't for him. For years, he'd sworn off love, thinking he didn't deserve it when he messed girls around, hurt people--cheated people. But he felt it for her, and it felt right. Like he deserved it. 

"And you're here, doofus. I'm happy. I married the man who makes me happy--who made my dreams come true," (y/n) giggled, thinking she was the luckiest girl in the world as she stopped walking and brushed away his tears with her thumbs. 

Ray felt the cool metal of her rings against his skin and closed his eyes slowly, swearing that she wouldn't be there when he opened them. It felt like a fantasy: marriage, love, family, having a home, but his senses said otherwise; he could feel the gentle breeze on his legs, hear the ocean's roar, smell the salty air, and taste her lips on his. Her love grounded him, and when his eyelids fluttered open again, she was still there, smiling, golden, and beautiful. 

"I wanted to marry you even back then. Never thought I would. That was my dream."

"I guess both our dreams came true, then..." she replied softly, calming his fears with the touch of her hand sliding down his chest.

Ray nodded, holding his beloved wife close as the sun warmed their skin, dipping further and further until it would inevitably have to say goodnight. The chillier the air grew, the more (y/n) used it as an excuse to snuggle closer - wearing such a thin dress had been a wise trick. 

"They did..." her doofus smiled, watching as she paused from their intimate embrace to crouch down on the smooth, moist sand. He didn't understand what she was doing until she began swirling her finger through the ground, drawing her runes on the blank with a cheeky smile as her lover waited to see what it said. 

(Y/N) + RAY 4EVER

He chuckled as she drew a large heart around it before standing back to admire her scrawl. The water would naturally wash it away, and whoever took the beach after them would never know they were there - the downside to such a private resort - but they treasured it, knowing their love would stretch far beyond the vacation, the island, their born days. 

"I will, you know..." Ray muttered as he welcomed her back into his arms, not liking how she'd left them, even if it was for a moment. They kissed again before (y/n) pulled back with a confused face, wondering what he could mean when she'd merely defaced the sand. 

"You will what?"

"Love you forever. And ever. And ever...and ever," the man smiled dopily. He'd always wondered if the feeling in his heart would ever go away as everyone said it would- like he was flying and falling into fluffy clouds, rainbows, and all other cosy things. It had been years, but he still felt the same, knowing he'd know her face, laugh, and smile through all his days, not just in the 'honeymoon' phase. 

Yeah, that feeling was never going away. 

"Ray?" (y/n) spoke up, stretching on her tippiest toes to softly smooch his lips. 

He hummed into her mouth, feeling his love, yearning, and hunger for her soul, body, and mind as he hunched over her frame. They fell to the sand, relieved to find it powdery and dry since they'd edged further up the beach. He found her lips again, coveting her kisses as the sun dipped below the horizon, turning a deep, burning orange. 

"Yeah, darlin'?" Ray mumbled, finding his place between her legs as she relaxed against the dune, head tilted back, accepting his affection on her neck. 

"I know what my next dream is..." she told him quietly between ragged gasps and swallowed moans. It didn't take much thinking, knowing instantly what she wanted, even in the half-minded state he'd reduced her to. However, it still surprised her doofus enough to cease his ravenous exploration. 

"Already?"

"Mhmm..." she nodded, leaning on her elbows to push the hair out of his eyes as he stroked her bare knees. 

"Tell me, sweet girl," Ray ordered softly, already planning on maxing out his credit card, ruining his reputation, and sacrificing everything in his name to make her happy. He'd make whatever she wanted to happen happen, swearing on the ring on his finger that she'd never want for anything. 

But it was much simpler than that. As lovely as they sounded, (y/n) didn't crave riches, fame, or glory, nor did she want him to break his back with some far-fetched quest. She just imagined them returning to this beach; only when they did, it would be different. A lot different, if she had anything to say about it, knowing life wouldn't be the same when they went home. 

"The next time we come back here, we'll have kids. And we'll be living happily ever after."

"That your dream or mine?" The hero joked but intertwined his hand with hers, pressing their wedding rings together. He couldn't think of anything more perfect, which showed in his smile. 

"Our dream," his sweet girl whispered and grinned, wondering when their dreams merged, but she was so glad they did. He was her life now, their fates inextricably woven together, and she couldn't wait to see where it led them. It had only taken them thirteen years to get this far, but she didn't mind waiting again. She'd stay forever...

"Ours..." he nodded, kissing her glinting rings as he returned to the crook of her neck, hands sliding under her skirt and up her thighs, where he'd find her bare and shivering. Both knew where this would lead, their lovemaking covered by the crickets' song and the ocean's rumble as the moon took its friend's place, shrouding them in a different light. 

New light, new beginnings, same love. 

"I love you, (y/n) Manchester. I always have, and I always will."

~A few weeks later~

Paradise couldn't last forever, not even if Captain Man tried to stretch for a few more hours. Ray and (y/n) waved goodbye to their beloved villa, island, and vacation after three weeks of uninterrupted bliss. They were sad, of course, tearfully making love for the last time in the bed, pool, beach--wherever Ray could find since he didn't want to go. 

He liked it there and didn't want to return to the humdrum stresses of his daily life despite having an enviable career, a gorgeous wife, and a newly purchased home. 

The Man Cave was gone, as confirmed when they stepped off the plane. It was a total wreck and utterly unsalvagable, meaning (y/n) swore they were homeless while Ray called Schwoz to pick them up. But, as always, the hero had a trick up his sleeve, treating his queen to a new palace on top of a mountain, of all places. He'd left everything in Schwoz's capable hands, purchasing both a school and headquarters for their personal and professional lives. 

How could (y/n) forget? They had new blood to train, youngsters with uncontrollable superpowers, and the city's superheroes refused to let them return to normality. It was too late for them to just go about their business like the Omega Weapon hadn't zapped them, so they summoned Mila, Miles, Bose, and Chapa to their new venture. A school, or SWAG, as Ray called it - The Swellview Academy for the Gifted. 

She didn't know how to feel about it all, having only just gotten to grips with their new home and job titles when their new students enrolled, eager for a tour of their school. Her? A teacher? It seemed silly because (y/n) still felt like a student, a mere sidekick to Captain Man, who had much more experience and suitability to train a new generation of heroes. But Schwoz convinced her, saying she had skills Ray couldn't dream of--and he'd go insane if he had to live alone with him. 

So, it was decided. In the day, they would be Mr and Mrs Manchester, professors at Swellview's newest top-rated education facility. By night, they would go upstairs, where a squeaky new hideout waited for them.

She missed the Man Cave, but the Man's Nest was just as good, spanning hundreds of rooms, all of which her doofus couldn't wait to christen. He knew that this was where their family would begin again, whether with the gaggle of children running behind them or with a babe of their own. 

He couldn't wait for a peaceful life with his newly-wedded wife...although peaceful wasn't quite the right word. 

"Stop it, Raymond!" (y/n) squealed as the man behind her pinched her ass - a shocking move when they were in public view outside their new front door. He didn't care, lovely patting his favourite feature as his other hand snaked around to cup her breast, squishing her body to his as his sweet girl tried to maintain some semblance of respectability. 

"Why?" Ray grinned, loudly smooching his wife's neck as she squirmed. He could see her smile through her attempts to remain dignified, and it spurred him further, burying his face in her sweet-smelling skin despite their nearby guests. He'd been like this since they came back - extra affectionate, even in front of the most undeserving people, who needed their eyes to bleach afterwards. 

"The kids will be here any second!"

"They're with Schwoz..." he shrugged, vaguely remembering that his new protégés were walking up the hill and probably nearly in earshot. Still, none of that mattered when she was in his arms. Ray couldn't remember a time when he'd been so happy, and even if stress, failure, and disaster were in his future with this latest scheme, he knew he'd be okay with her. 

"Who also doesn't need to see you fondling my boob." However, (y/n) thought differently, her voice dry and sarcastic as her husband squished the pliable flesh like a stress ball. He was not ashamed, even when she swatted his hand away and led it to her stomach - a much safer place. 

"Oh, yeah... He wasn't too happy earlier, was he?" Ray sniffed, sourly remembering how his resident handyman/assistant yelled at them earlier for...soiling the couch two weeks after he'd bought it. Part of him wanted to smile; he'd always loved pissing Schwoz off, but maybe not when he had to escape with his pants around his ankles. 

"No, he wasn't. A week after your honeymoons, and you're already doing the smoochy-smoochy," (y/n) recalled, imitating the small man's peculiar accent, making her lover laugh. She wasn't necessarily mad - not at all since 'the soiling' was magnificent - but she didn't want to dig their hole deeper and cause an argument, not with the children around. 

"Three weeks isn't long enough. He'd say the same if he had an incredibly hot wife, too." The hand on her butt tensed, pinching her again to make her jump, much to Ray's amusement. Three weeks wasn't long enough, but it wasn't like they hadn't done things since they'd moved in. He was just pushing his luck. 

"Hands to yourself, doofus!"

"But sweet girl..." the doofus whined when she slipped out of his arms, straightening her sweater as she heard footsteps and clamouring excited voices. The last thing she wanted the kids to remember from their first day at school was something rude, lewd, and possibly nude, so she slipped her hand into his and leaned into his side, telling him to be content with what she gave him. 

"Just...behave yourself. They're coming!" And she was right. Ray quickly stiffened his spine and posed against the door, acting cool and calm as Schwoz rounded the corner. He didn't suspect anything, merely seeing his two bosses, Mr and Mrs Manchester, waiting patiently as he guided the students to the front porch. 

"Welcome to the Swellview Academy for the Gifted..." Ray said to them as Miles, Mila, Bose, and Chapa approached. They nodded at the tidy, pleasant space, impressed that Schwoz had planted some bedding plants in light wood boxes and hung a giant sculpture of SWAG's crest. It was an excellent porch, yet poor Bose took things a little too literally. 

"I love it! This is my seat!" The boy exclaimed as Ray wrapped his arm around his precious wife, both confused to see the boy sitting cross-legged on the dirty ground. 

'Good God, he's another Jasper,' Ray couldn't help but think, but a squeeze on the arm from his sweet girl, and he quickly calmed down. He was a little slow, that's all, and he had to remember his patience. 

"No, no, Bose, sweetheart. The school's inside with desks and pencils and other learning things," (y/n) told him gently, having forgotten how dense the kid could be. At least he meant well, and she reached out to help him up since he couldn't sit on the porch all day. 

"When can we see them?!" Mika asked in a rush of words, practically screeching above (y/n)'s voice once Bose was on his feet. The heroine was a little shocked until she remembered how eager and hyper the girl was, unlike the sullen one beside her. 

"In a second, but first--" Ray tried to tell her, trying to stay in control since he was the boss, hero, headteacher--yadda, yadda, yadda. He'd forgotten what it was like to have four unruly, pubescent youths in his midst before getting to know them - so used to his old family working like a German clock - so it wasn't a surprise when they grew impatient and ignored him. 

"That was a second!" Chapa exclaimed and charged, breaking through the line of adults to push inside the classroom despite Ray's best attempts to prevent it. If they ran together, he couldn't stop them all, leaving him, Schwoz and (y/n) slightly winded and definitely exasperated on the porch. 

"They are not good listeners..." Schwoz sighed as the kids ran around the pristine room, marvelling at the smell of fresh paint and the sight of the fancy, unmarked desks and high-tech teaching equipment. They couldn't believe their luck, whilst the men outside couldn't believe what they'd gotten themselves into. 

"Nope..." Ray agreed, biting his lip to keep in his screams. It was never like this with Henry, Charlotte, Jasper or Piper. 

"They will learn..." (y/n) soothed them, turning in the hero's arms to stroke her hands down his chest and kiss his cheek. He sighed, not knowing if she was right, but he trusted her judgement, following his students into the building without too much stress. Inside, they were still buzzing, testing everything out, from the comfy spinning chairs at their personalised desks to the state-of-the-art interactive whiteboard. 

"Is this the new Man Cave?" Bose asked incredulously, wondering if they'd learn and fight crime from the pokey room, with its own little pantry and staircase to wherever. 

"No, this is not the new Man Cave," Ray replied, guiding his sweet girl briskly across the room with an exhausted expression. It hadn't even been five minutes, and he wanted to clunk skulls together. He was comforted only by the angel at his side, who dealt with stupid questions much better than he did. 

"There's a new Man cave?" Chapa questioned just as eagerly, beaming at (y/n) this time, who thought her toothy grin was quite cute. 

"Yeah, sort of..." she nodded, also excited to show them what they'd bought and built in such a short time, and no one would ever guess they were related. After all, why would Captain Man be interested in a tiny, four-pupil school?

"This is the school we bought for you guys so that (y/n) and I can teach you how to be superheroes," Ray explained as they took their place at the lectern, looking like the world's most clueless teachers but the most in love couple. 

"This is my desk!" Mika exclaimed, ignoring the man as she claimed her seat, even though there was a seating plan. Well, not anymore, as the others followed suit, plonking their butts in any space they fancied, regardless of whatever their teacher tried to say. 

"Well, you can't say they aren't enthusiastic..." (y/n) joked quietly, grinning at their energy as it infected her, lessening her nerves about how she'd shape their futures. Ray wasn't quick to agree, disliking how rowdy and unruly they were--and how fond of touching things they seemed to be. 

"Hey, what does this button do?!" Chapa asked raucously, tracing her fingertips over the smooth, large button on her armrest. 

"Do not push that!" 

"No, no, no, no!" Ray and Schwoz exclaimed, halting her movements whilst (y/n) spouted nonsense about looking with eyes, not hands. Her hand hovered above the button, utterly tempted to press it just for the hell of it because it obviously did something. And they didn't want her to know just yet - she'd never been good with authority figures. 

"Well, now I wanna push it more."

"Me too..." Miles agreed, too tempted to ignore his curiosity. 

"Guys, please...All in good time," (y/n) tried to quell them, appealing to their sensible sides by saying they'd be allowed to soon, but they were too excited. Even Mika - the goody-two-shoes - couldn't help herself, apologising profusely before the quartet slammed their hands onto the buttons. 

Ray sighed, his shouts in vain as the chairs activated, sending the kids through the ceiling and upstairs to the hideout in what was supposed to be a secret yet speedy way of getting to their battle stations when there was an emergency. Well, that was that surprise ruined, making Schwoz snigger. He couldn't wait to see how this panned out. 

"Not good listeners..."

"Nope," Ray agreed, clenching his jaw with his hands on his hips. Suddenly, he felt he'd bitten off more than he could chew, but what was he supposed to do? It would be irresponsible to leave four untrained tweenagers with uncontrolled powers, but really? He was gonna be grey before he hit forty...

"They will learn..." (y/n) reiterated, unfolding her arms as she turned to her husband, whose brow was wrinkled and tight from stress. She hated to see it, but it seemed like they'd forgotten their early struggles with their first protégé, who had to be moulded into the young hero he was today. 

"Henry was exactly the same."

"There was just one of Henry. Now, there's a whole bunch of 'em," her husband frowned, his heart aching at the memory of his former sidekick - so far away in Dystopia. He and all the others were fine, making their mark on the world one save at a time, but he couldn't help but miss them. Starting again didn't feel right at his age...

"So? We're superheroes, doofus. If we can handle bad guys, we can handle a few kids." But his pretty girl was there to soothe his worries, wrapping her arms around his neck as his forehead rested on her shoulder. 

Schowz wandered off to do whatever chore he needed to do, fed up with seeing them being all affectionate and loving after their getaway. He thought it was bad before, but this was on another level, perfect for their new life together but annoying for those who had to witness their passionate kisses and roaming hands. 

"And what about you, sweet girl? You like it? Our new place?" Ray asked, respectfully holding her hips, not because he wasn't in the mood - he always was - but because he knew his handyman had eyes and ears everywhere. He wasn't in the mood for a telling-off, not when standing with his hot wife, a teacher now and a superheroine. God, he needed a fan - he was in awe of her. 

"Well, it needs to make a few memories first, but I think we'll be happy here. It's got windows!"

"I know I'm already happy. You've made me the happiest man in the world," he cooed, nudging their noses together, pleased by her response. 

Their new home was brighter and airier than the Man Cave, although a little soulless since there was still so much to explore. But (y/n) was making the best of it, decorating their new bedroom with their combined tastes and ensuring Schwoz reinforced the bed--for comfort. Definitely for comfort. 

"Don't be so grumpy, then. Let me see that handsome smile..." She smiled, pushing the man's cheeks with her finger until he was beaming, which was inevitable when his wife gave him her affection. 

"Well, since you asked so nicely..." Lost in their own little world, Ray pulled her in a kiss, licking the seam of her lips as they smiled, nerves fading into excitement for the future. His hands trailed to her ass, cupping the squishy flesh as (y/n) hummed appreciatively, knowing that whilst things may change, she'd always have his peppermint-bubblegum taste to comfort her. 

Minutes passed, and Schwoz wondered where they'd gotten to as chaos ensued upstairs, thanks to the four children running unsupervised. He poked his head through the pantry door to see them in a hot, heavy make-out session, pulling on clothes and hair as their rings glowed. He knew he shouldn't have left them alone...

"Are you two gonna stand around doing the smoochy-smoochy all day, or are you gonna go upstairs? Bose is literally climbing the walls!"

"Stop calling it smoochy-smoochy, Schwoz!" The hero shouted, pulling away from his sweet girl abruptly, looking irritated as Schwoz fled the room. He knew Ray hated being interrupted and wisely sprinted upstairs whilst (y/n) giggled in her lover's embrace. He looked so pissed off but softened when he looked at her again, almost pouting now that the kissing was over. 

"He's right, though, doofus. Annoying, but right. We should get up there before they burn the place down or break something," she said softly, brushing her fingers against his forehead as her husband sighed. He knew they had left the peace and quiet in Hawaii, but he didn't think life would become so complicated and demanding so soon. Apparently not...

"Ugh, fine..." He groaned, knowing she was right. They were the leaders, teachers, heroes, so they couldn't spend all day in the throes of passion--as much as he yearned to. He sighed and pulled away but kept his hand in hers as she pressed a final kiss to his cheek, confident in their abilities to handle anything that came their way when he saw their wedding rings. 

A promise of a lifetime together, throughout the good times and the bad, highs and lows, the successes and blows. Their next adventure was starting, and despite a little fear amongst the butterflies, he was excited, knowing he wasn't starting again, just...carrying on. 

"Are you ready, sweet girl?"

"Of course, doofus. Let the danger begin..." (y/n) smiled, following close behind Ray as he escorted her upstairs to the unskilled and unruly children. Their new adventure.

She'd come to love them as her own, just as before, although she hoped there'd be less heartbreak and much more love this time. It wasn't the end, merely the next chapter in a new book - a sequel. 

The story of (y/n) Manchester, helper, heroine, sweet girl, wasn't quite over yet. This was only just the beginning.

[numinousmysteries]

Dancing the Tandava (5/10)

[on Ao3] @today-in-fic

Long Island, NY 1993

They fly as far as a small airport in Islip, near the middle of Long Island, but still have to drive another hour and a half to reach Montauk.

Scully’s been quiet on the flight over, no doubt digesting the news from the phone call he received earlier in their office. He has to admit, the idea of the two of them one day having a son who’s visiting them from the future is a little far-fetched, but he’s heard the lore about Camp Hero and is eager to see it for himself.

“You were a Navy brat, Scully,” he says, breaking the silence. “Have you ever heard about the Philadelphia experiment?”

“I’ve heard about the cream cheese,” she says, absentmindedly gazing out the passenger window.

“Well,” he goes on, “in 1943 a Navy destroyer, the USS Eldridge, disappeared from a Philadelphia shipyard. It reappeared in Norfolk, Virginia, more than 200 miles away with no evidence of how it got there. The crew members weren’t as lucky—some were never found and others were discovered physically fused to the walls of the ship. It’s suspected that the Navy was testing out extraterrestrial technology, possibly stolen from the Nazis, that could make ships invisible to radar detection. Of course, the Navy maintains no such experiment was ever conducted, and no living crew members have any recollection of the event.”

“You think that has something to do with this case?” she asks.

“Apparently, the military continued experiments using this same technology at Camp Hero. I’ve heard stories of a foot of snow falling in the middle of a hot, August afternoon in Montauk, or residents experiencing episodes of mass mind control with dozens of unrelated people feeling sudden surges of anger or sadness simultaneously. Plus, there are reports of a time tunnel in Camp Hero that researchers have used to go forward or backward in time.”

Scully turns to face him. “And that’s where you think this guy came from?”

“I guess we’ll see.” Mulder shrugs, cracking a sunflower seed in his teeth. “Do you ever think about having children, Scully?” He chews hard, hoping the personal question hasn’t crossed a boundary.

“Well, sure,” she hesitates, staring at her hands in her lap. “But I’d like to be further along in my career and, well, with a significant other. What about you?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “In an ideal world, I think it would be nice to have a family, but I didn’t have a great childhood myself and I’m not sure I had the best parenting models. Besides, the instability of this job isn’t conducive to settling down. I think you’d be a great mom, though.”

Scully laughs.

“I’m serious, Scully. You’re patient, caring, and you’ve kept me out of trouble so far which is no easy feat.”

“I suppose being your partner is pretty good practice for parenting,” she says.

Her warm smile encourages him to test the limits even more. “I know we’ve only been working together for a few months, but I think we have a good rapport. I don’t think it’s outside the realm of possibility that one day our friendship evolves into something more and that we have a child together.”

Scully doesn’t respond and he regrets his words. It’s a step too far. She probably doesn’t consider him as anything more than a coworker and, to be honest, he’s only now realizing he sees her as a friend. When she first walked into his office, she was a curiosity to him—a spy with the confidence to rewrite Einstein; the intestinal fortitude to dissect a corpse, handle its oozing organs, and walk away hungry for lunch; and constellations of freckles on her cheeks that she hides under makeup but that delight him whenever he catches a glimpse of them.

He tried to keep his guard up around her, but he’s slowly learning to trust her loyalty. At first, he didn’t expect her to last long on the X-Files but recently he’s been hoping she sticks around.

“Sorry,” he says after another beat of silence on her end. “I didn’t mean to imply or insinuate anything. I’m sure if you do have children one day it’ll be with some hotshot surgeon or the future head of the FBI, not your crackpot partner.”

“I assume there have been worse cases of Stockholm Syndrome,” she says, grinning at him.

“Stockholm Syndrome? Really, Scully?” He smiles back at her in relief that she’s playfully teasing him and isn’t totally repelled by his comments.

“I’m kidding,” she replies. “I enjoy working with you, Mulder. In just a few months I’ve seen things that have tested my beliefs in concepts I’ve considered to be invariables, and you’ve taught me the power of maintaining an open mind—even if our theories don’t always align. And sure, it’s not possible to say where we'll be a decade from now, but it’s also not possible to travel backwards in time. This is just someone playing a prank on us.”

He nods and turns his attention back to the road unfolding in front of them. As they get closer, the highway narrows to two lanes lined with bare trees. Finally, they turn off onto a dirt road, eventually reaching a tall, barbed wire fence with a guardpost outside. In the distance, he can see the radar tower from his file.

A uniformed officer leans out of the post to inspect their vehicle. “Can I help you?” he asks.

“Agents Mulder and Scully with the FBI,” Mulder says as he shows his badge. “We received a phone call that there’s a young man here asking to speak with us.”

“One moment,” he says.

As the guard goes back inside his post and picks up a phone, Mulder turns to Scully. “Doesn’t seem so decommissioned after all?” he asks with a smile.

Before she can respond, the guard turns his attention back to them. “They’re bringing him out now.”

“We can’t enter the base?” Mulder asks.

“No sir,” the guard says. “This area is restricted to authorized personnel only. The person who asked for you, we would have arrested him ourselves for trespassing if the bureau wasn’t taking care of it.”

Mulder doesn’t add that the FBI hasn’t sanctioned any of the day’s activity. He convinced Scully to claim they were responding to a missing person report when they requested their travel expenses, but they didn’t elaborate on where this person had gone missing from—or who he claimed to be.

“We can’t come in and take a look around?” Mulder presses. “We’ve been told this man has appeared under mysterious circumstances and it would assist with our investigation.”

The guard shakes his head gruffly. On the other side of the gate, another military officer approaches escorting a younger man in handcuffs. As they get closer, Mulder feels a shock of recognition. The handcuffed man could pass for him in his Oxford days. They share the same long, lean frame, bulbous nose, and angular jawline. He feels Scully turning toward him but he can’t take his eyes off this young man. Once they reach the gate, the guard enters the post and presses a button to open it just wide enough for the office and the young man to pass through. The military officer pushes the handcuffed man in front of him towards Mulder and Scully’s rental car.

“You want him cuffed?” he asks.

“Um, no,” Scully says absently, her mind working to process what she sees.

The young man is smiling at them now as if he recognizes them. In his eyes, Mulder sees Scully’s bright blue irises.

“Whatever,” the officer says. He unlocks the handcuffs and guides the young man into the backseat of the car. “Now you all need to get out of here. Authorized personnel only.”

“We’ve heard,” Mulder says, although he’s looking at the young man’s face in the rear view mirror and not at the officer. He’s cataloging his features, assigning some to Scully and some to himself. The resemblance is uncanny.

As Mulder turns the car around and starts pulling away their passenger exclaims, “This is crazy! You guys look so young!”

“I’m sorry,” Scully says. “Do we know you?”

“Mom, it’s me, it’s William,” he says, confused. “Oh shit, it’s 1993. I don’t exist yet. But listen, it’s me, William, your son. Mom, you’re a doctor, you have two brothers, Bill and Charlie, and had—have—a sister, Melissa. Your mom’s name is Maggie and your father’s name is Bill. Dad, you had a sister Samantha who went missing when you were a kid. Your parents are Teena and Bill. You two used to—well I guess, as of now, still do—work at the FBI investigating paranormal cases in the X-Files department.”

“This is all public information,” Scully says, although Mulder can hear the doubt creeping into her usually confident delivery. “You could have researched us. We don’t have a child together.”

“No, not yet you don’t,” he says. “I’m not surprised you don’t believe me. But I can prove it. You can do a DNA test, right? Wait, can you do a DNA test in 1993?”

“Yes, I can do that. And I’m confident that the results will prove that you’re lying.”

“Look, I have pictures of the three of us together on my phone. Shit, I don’t have my phone with me.”

“You have pictures on a phone?” Scully asks doubtfully.

William falls quiet in the backseat. Mulder catches his sad eyes in the mirror.

“Let’s go somewhere we can talk and figure this out,” Mulder says.

Back on the highway, they find a chrome-sided diner. Mulder and Scully secure a booth while William excuses himself to use the bathroom.

Mulder can only sit and grin dumbfoundedly at Scully.

“What?” Scully asks, exacerbated.

“You see it, don’t you?” He asks. “You have to admit the resemblance is undeniable.”

“It’s the power of suggestion,” she counters angrily. “We were told he was our son, so we’re looking for similarities. If anything, this could be a setup. Maybe someone found this guy, who looks a little bit like both of us, and is using him to lure us into something.”

“That doesn’t add up. They’d have to be assuming we would believe in this whole time travel angle as well.”

“Mulder,” she sighs. “You do believe William, or whoever he is, traveled back in time.”

“I’m not ready to rule it out,” he replies. “You’ll do the DNA test. That’ll give us some answers. Let’s hear what he has to say in the meantime.”

From across the diner Mulder sees William emerging from the restroom. “Your parents are right down at that end, hun,” a waitress tells him, pointing in their general direction.

Mulder glances at Scully and she rolls her eyes.

William slides into the booth across from them, still smiling wide, with Scully’s blue eyes lit up on his face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says with excitement in this voice. “You guys used to tell me about going to all these random diners while you were on the road for cases and now I’m getting to see it myself. How long have you two been working together now? Did you find Tooms yet? That was one of your first cases, right?”

“Slow down,” Scully says. “We need you to tell us who you are and where you came from.”

William laughs. “I feel like I should be the one asking you two that,” he says playfully.

“Give us the benefit of the doubt here, William,” Mulder says.

“Okay, well, where do I start? I’m your son, William Scully Mulder, I was born on May 20, 2001. I’m currently a research intern at CERN in Geneva. You two were actually supposed to come visit me today—well, 2023 today. I was assisting this physicist with an experiment on the large hadron collider when all of a sudden things got hazy and I came to in some sort of tunnel at that military base you picked me up from.”

“The large what?” Mulder asks.

“The large hadron collider,” Scully answers. “It’s a particle accelerator but it doesn’t exist. International scientists have proposed plans for its development, but right now the only particle accelerator at CERN is the large electron–positron collider.”

“Yeah,” William nods. “But the LEP was dismantled like 20 years ago to make room for the LHC, which is magnitudes more powerful. Mom, you’ll love this. They discovered the Higgs boson in 2012.”

He’s interrupted by the waitress who comes to take their order.

Scully starts to speak but William reaches out his hand to stop her.

“Watch,” he says. “I know what you want. Mom, you probably think the crispy chicken sandwich sounds good but you’ll order the Greek salad, no feta cheese, with dressing on the side. Dad, you’re going to get the Reuben with fries. And two black coffees.”

Mulder turns to glance at Scully, befuddled.

“Sounds like your kid’s got you down pat,” the waitress says. “And what about you, young man?”

“Um, I’ll have the crispy chicken sandwich—you can have a bite, mom—and an iced tea.”

As the waitress walks away, William asks, “Do you believe me now? Dad, you probably have a bag of sunflower seeds in your pocket that you’ll snack on before the food comes.”

Mulder laughs, pulling out an opened bag of seeds. William reaches over and takes one, opening the shell with his teeth, mirroring the movement Mulder knows he does himself.

“Well, before we eat, I’d like to take a sample of your saliva for a DNA test,” says Scully. “You can take a lucky guess on our lunch orders but genetics don’t lie.”

As she opens her briefcase to get testing swabs and evidence bags, Mulder sees a look of resigned disappointment flash across William’s face. It’s as if he’s sad Scully won’t believe him, but also not surprised.

“May I?” Scully asks, pointing an elongated Q-tip in William’s direction. “Just a cheek swab.”

He nods and opens his mouth, letting Scully get a sample of his saliva and zip it into an evidence bag. She does the same for Mulder, and then herself, before packing all three plastic bags into her briefcase.

“I can drop these off at the nearest field office and have them start sequencing the DNA.”

“Why don’t you tell us how you think you got here,” Mulder says.

“I told you,” William starts impatiently. “I was working on the collider with Dr. Bellona—wait, shit, it must have been Dr. Bellona.”

Mulder and Scully stare at him in confusion.

“He’s a physicist at CERN,” William continues. “His office is next door to Dr. Farber who I actually work for, but he called me in last night to assist on a project. That’s kind of weird, for an intern to work directly on the LHC, but it’s not even the weirdest part. Dad, you’re going to love this.”

Mulder leans in across the table. He can’t help but feel drawn to William’s energy.

“When I was coming back from work yesterday it was just getting dark and I saw Dr. Bellona outside this statue near my apartment. It’s a big statue of the Hindu god Shiva. And Bellona wasn’t alone. He was with about a dozen other people and leading them in a chant. I couldn’t make out any of the words but I also saw he was scattering something on the ground as he chanted. And I kind of stopped to look because it seemed so odd, and then Bellona saw me and he gave me this ice-cold stare. It was kind of creepy, actually. Then, just a couple of hours later, he calls me in to assist on an LHC run. That’s strange, right?”

Mulder looks over at Scully, her brow furrowed as she tries to make sense of the story.

“Did you tell anyone what you saw?” Mulder asks.

“Just Hannah, but she wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Who’s Hannah?” Scully asks.

William’s about to answer when the waitress comes and sets their plates down in front of them. He waits for her to walk away to continue.

“She’s, um, my friend, and my roommate. We went to MIT together and we both got internships at CERN. She’s the best. You guys met her last summer, and you really liked her. And like I said, she didn’t tell anyone about the Bellona thing. We were together the whole time in between me seeing him and when he called.”

“So you suspect this Dr. Bellona caught you witnessing something you weren’t supposed to see and then, to keep you quiet, sent you back in time?” Scully asks hesitantly.

“It’s possible,” he says.

“It’s really not,” Scully responds wearily.

WIlliam shrugs and takes a sip of his iced tea. “I know it sounds crazy, but dad, back me up here. You must’ve heard about something like this happening before. Maybe in one of your cases?”

“Physicists have theorized about wormholes and time loops—” Mulder starts.

“Yeah, of course, like Stephen Hawking,” William interrupts. “He said the possibility of time travel was more likely than the existence of God. And mom, didn’t you even write about it in your senior thesis?”

Mulder smiles and turns toward Scully. “That’s what I said, mom,” he says.

“Well, as I explained to Agent Mulder, time travel is only a theory, and even if it were somehow possible, the human body wouldn’t be able to withstand the extreme forces and temperatures that would be required to create a transversable wormhole and manipulate space-time.”

“And yet, here I am.”

Mulder makes eye contact with William from across the table. William flashes a smirk at him that, if it didn’t come from a face with Scully’s eyes, could be like looking in a mirror.

“How old is this Dr. Bellona?” he asks William.

“I don’t know,” he says in between bites of his sandwich. “Probably around your age, 60-something.”

Scully stifles a laugh.

“Well,” says Mulder. “Then he must be around our age now, too. Maybe we can track him down and see if he plans on creating a time machine thirty years from now. Any idea where he might be in 1993?”

“I don’t know,” William says. “He’s American, which narrows it down a little. I know that’s not much, but it’s not all that common at CERN so at least we’ll be sticking within your jurisdiction.”

He holds out his half-eaten sandwich to Scully. “It’s really good, mom. You sure you don’t want a bite?”

Mulder watches as she squints at William, then slowly reaches out to take the sandwich. He winks at William who smiles back.

[wa-royal-tea]

Previous | Beginning | Next

(Transcript under the cut - Click Pics for HQ Version!)

Charles Bourbon International Airport, Britania (11:24am)

Nora *thinking*: It’s okay. This is for his own good...

A month ago...

Nora (text message): Smthg came up.

Nora (text message): Might be a bit late.

Lina (text message): Ok. U alright there?

Nora (text message): I’m fine. Ttyl.

Nora: Your majesty?

Annaleigh: Are you done texting your friend?

Nora: I am. You said you wanted to speak to me.

Annaleigh: Yes. Have a seat. It’s better if we have this talk while sitting down.

Annaleigh: I believe you already knew why I came here to see you, correct?

Nora: I have an idea, but I’m not sure if I’m right about it.

Annaleigh: Well, let me hear it. Why do you think I’m here?

Nora:...you’re here because you wanted to talk about Leon with me, aren’t you?

Annaleigh: You’re a smart girl, Miss Marshall.

Annaleigh: Leon has been a very obedient child to his father since he was young. He followed everything that Maximus asks of him, he will follow him without question. All because he wanted his father’s approval.

Annaleigh: He’s become the perfect heir just for his father. And even then, Maximus thinks what he’s done is not good enough.

Annaleigh: Do you see where I’m going with this?

Annaleigh: I know how much you mean to my son. He even stood up to his father for the first time after he insulted you. He’s never done that before for anyone.

Annaleigh: It might sound cliché but, he changed because of you.

Annaleigh: You’re a good girl, Nora. And I like you. If Leon wasn’t born as the heir, I would be more than happy to have you as my daughter-in-law.

Annaleigh: I have no doubts that you can adapt to our world if Leon decides to have you stand next to him. But Maximus doesn’t think the same as I do. He thinks Leon needs someone from our world as his future Queen. Someone who can understand his future role and how everything works.

Annaleigh: I won’t stop you from pursuing anything with my son. But I have to warn you that it won’t be easy. Maximus will make sure he won’t make it easy for you if you become Leon’s partner.

Annaleigh: And knowing Leon, he would give up his spot as the Crown Prince if it meant protecting you from his father. I don’t want that for him. He’s worked all his life to become the next King and I don’t want all his hard work to go to waste.

Annaleigh: I need you to think about this deeply. This is not just your future we’re talking about, but Leon’s too. And right now, you have a lot of power over him, so you need to choose wisely.

Annaleigh: I hope you’ll make the right decision, Nora. For everyone.

Announcer (in the background): Brixton Air Flight BA 616, BA 616, bound for Great Brixton is now ready for boarding at gate A-5, Gate A-5.

Announcer (in the background): I repeat, Brixton Air Flight BA 616, BA 616, bound for Great Brixton is now ready for boarding at gate A-5, Gate A-5. Thank you.

Catalina: Nora! Nora! Wait up!

Nora: *gasps* What are you guys doing here? I thought you were still on your honeymoon?

Alfie: We came back two hours ago. We heard from your mom that you’re leaving today.

Catalina: Why didn’t you tell us you’re leaving?

Nora: Sorry. I just got the job offer a week ago and I didn’t want to bother you guys.

Catalina: Don’t be stupid. We would be sad if you left without telling us. You can’t leave without saying goodbye.

Nora: *laughs nervously* I won’t do it again.

Alfie: Did you tell Leon you’re leaving?

Nora:...

Catalina: Nora? Alfie’s asking you a question.

Nora: I...I didn’t. He’s busy.

Alfie: You can just send him a text, y’know. I’m sure he’ll be sad if you leave just like that.

Catalina: He’s right. You could’ve sent him a text at least.

Alfie: Did something happen between you two?

Nora:...I-I need to go. I don’t want to miss the flight. I’ll keep in contact with you guys, okay?

Catalina: But—

Nora: I promise we’ll keep in contact. You take care, alright?

Catalina: *sighs* Alright. You take care too.

Nora: I will.

Alfie: She’ll talk when she’s ready.

Catalina: I hope so. I don’t want to lose her too.

[bunnakit]

it is lore-anon back to scream in your inbox again. Thank you for the second link! Yes, I can see it if the individual tweet is linked directory (otherwise twitter bans you from seeing comments and retweets and threads if you're not logged into an account and I continue to want to pitch them out a window for it because I refuse to make one). I read the other four entries but then it was 2AM and I needed to go to bed. But now I am back and

OH NO. I don't know who's entry hurts the worst, (its not supposed to be a stomp on my heart contest guys)

When I watched the Work mv for the first time I had a little moment of 'ha ha Hongjoong and Mingi are out there fighting A Monster Of Capitalism' moment with the money-kaiju. But they really are out there literally fighting A Monster of Capitalism akjghlkadjhgla. My heart. (This is why I am here, for the brilliance of how they can play something off as silly or casual in an mv but they've layered so much metaphor, foreshadowing, and worldbuilding up at this point that if you're a lore person suddenly a lot of little casual throwaway things are the OPPOSITE of casual)

Because, ok, I got an arts degree right? So when they first announced the name of the new era was Golden Hour I was like 'as in the photography term Golden Hour?' because this was a very interesting choice given Golden Hour, and then the names of the album versions came out and instead of A-Diary-Z suddenly it was Blue Hour-Diary-Golden Hour I flipped my shit because that basically confirmed they DID mean the photography concept. And they're SO intentional about everything I was like 'ok, where does golden hour lighting vs blue hour lighting show up in past mv's, out of curiosity?'

(Because, like. I have an offline 'lore' playlist I've setup on my comp so I can watch all the teasers-intros-mvs-outros for all of the mvs together in one place back to back in the order they were released so it makes it easy to check when something new suddenly ties back to something previous. It's over 5 hours at this point. I love them, they feed us so well).

Go back. Watch everything from Pirate King in order. Unlike other kpop groups that go ham on the coloured gels to create mood and atmosphere, ATEEZ basically, dead-on consistently, all the way back to 2018, through Every. Single. Video have essentially 5 types of lighting they shoot scenes with for 95% of the mv shots: that really warm-cast sunrise/sunset golden hour light, the extremely cool-cast twilight blue hour light, a neutral light that is incredibly bright to the point of almost over-exposing the scene, black and white, and BATHED-IN-RED-cast. (The only exceptions are a couple shots that use coloured gels in Turbulence especially Wooyoung PETER-PANNING INTO THE SKY ON THE AIRPORT RUNWAY THAT HAS NO NEW CONTEXT WHATSOEVER NOW, Hongjoong's part in Halazia with the background purple lighting, a couple of shots in Deja Vu, and the deliberate use of gels to simulate all the neon lights in Bouncy. But even then the use of gels in these places REALLY stand out because it is NOT their norm).

And, I would argue, given looking at WHICH scenes in each mv use which type of lighting, because they have been SO consistent about it-

That they have been using lighting temperature to separate something happening in the A world vs the Z world vs dreams vs memories vs recorded-electronically-transmitted messages vs the points where one or more of these has met a point where its merging with a different one, (they have referenced mobius strips TOO MANY TIMES for me to treat the A and Z worlds as separate universes. Oh no, we are playing with 1 or more magic relics at this point and timelines are starting to bleed, Halazia-universe being a created as a literal side-effect in itself,) and the mvs haven't just been telling ONE timeline of events for that mv, but MULTIPLE. At. The. Same. Time. (I swear I could write a 10k essay on how they've used their lighting for world-building up to this point that went unnoticed until they took a megaphone and basically went 'hey, golden hour? blue hour? maybe pay attention to that ho ho' and wrecked me).

Because, like, for fever forward, the mv and the diary version always reference each other, right? but in some mv's I have to look at the mv and then back at the diary version and something on the screen

Whereas the diary versions have only ever been from the A-world pirates perspective. So we know which events are THEIR timeline from their point of view.

and the parts from the mv that don't "fit" as creative interpretations of the diary's contents? They DO tend to make sense if you take it as how the main themes of the diary are/were playing out but for the Z-world pirates at potentially a different point in THEIR personal Z-world timeline.

Maybe its my deep-in-the-lore-sauce-analysis delulu, but like, maybe the Z-world pirates are dead as far as the A-World pirates are currently aware, in their part of their timeline. But I would bet my hat that the Z-pirates are not dead-dead in the larger fabric of the multiple connected universes. There are way too many pointed bits of foreshadowing and too many deliberate loose ends from past mvs that have not been tied off yet for me to believe we've really seen the last of them yet, (this is probably another unhinged 10k essay on my part).

I mean, I am currently convinced that Answer timeline-wise takes place AFTER whatever happens in the Golden Hour era, (that most of the events from the Treasure-era mv's actually belong much later in their timeline than we currently think they do, actually).

And we know who's at the table toasting in Answer.

hey lore anon! sorry, i've been fighting a 2 day headache and work and my brain is basically sludge~ please don't ever apologize for getting excited tho! seeing people get excited about stuff they're passionate about is my fav thing and i've definitely been in my friends dms theorycrafting and spewing some insane shit lmao

i could NOT believe how much of the work mv became lore, especially with hongjoong and mingi!! like!! and the food truck theme! ugh, ugh, ugh. ill never be over how they can take insane shit like bouncy and work and turn it into actually gut wrenching lore. like how??

i absolutely love all your theories and my god you're way smarter than me on the filming and lighting lmao all i have to guide me is literary devices and narrative patterns (written word is the only place i excel in life RIP)

i cannot WAIT to see the path the lore is taking, they really keep us guessing at every turn and that's what got me hooked and ruined my life in february lol

please ALWAYS feel free to climb in my dms either here or discord or wherever if you want! or pls always feel free to send me asks!!

happy golden hour!!!

[happygirl2oo2]

Elementary Parallels

Gregson about Sherlock kidnapping and planning to intentionally kill the active serial murderer that killed someone he loved (which he didn't end up fully going through with, only beating him up for a bit in a way that would hurt but do no real harm before intentionally taking M to the police himself), s1ep13:

Watson: "Sherlock feels terribly about what happened. He'd tell you himself but you know how he is. What would it take for him to come back? Is it a matter of sitting it out or do you want a formal apology?" Gregson: "You sound like he took my favorite shirt without asking. Holmes planned to torture and murder somebody." Watson: "Sherlock thought that Moran murdered the woman he loved." Gregson: "Which makes it natural to think about paying him back. An employee of this department does not act on those impulses. Do you wanna know what Sherlock can do? Nothing. And if I had to bet, I'd say he's not even sorry. Now, I understand, you're worried about your client, you think that he needs this job to stay sober. I understand that. But he's broken, and he's broken in a way that has nothing to do with whether or not he's getting high."

Gregson about Kitty kidnapping and planning to intentionally kill the active serial rapist and murderer that terribly abused her 5 years ago (which she didn't end up fully going through with, ended up pouring strong acid on his face instead before intentionally revealing Gruner's location to the police), s3ep12 and s5ep15:

Sherlock, answering his phone: "Captain." Gregson: "We got him. Gruner. We've been trying to ping his cell phone for hours, but suddenly it came back on. We found him in a warehouse on Staten Island tied to a chair. At first, we thought someone had lit his head on fire, but the doctor said it was some kind of corrosive. Preliminary lab work says he is Jesse Laird's biological father, and Joan found a book stashed at his place. There are pictures in there that he's not gonna be able to explain. He's gonna wake up after a few hours, and right after I tell him he's under arrest, I'm gonna ask him who did this to him. Maybe it's a name I know. Maybe it isn't. Either way, I'm gonna have to go after them." Sherlock: "Understood." [cut to Sherlock and Kitty talking on the phone] Kitty: "There's some things I need to wrap up with the captain. I wanted you to know that this is the last time I'll be using this phone. Thought you'd want to verify that I really have gone to the airport this time."

Watson: "You want me and Kitty to talk to the captain?" Sherlock: "Is that a problem?" Kitty: "Yeah, Watson. Problem?" Watson: "You didn't just leave New York two years ago, you fled. You dunked some guy's head in a vat of acid." Kitty: "Del Gruner wasn't a "guy," he was a monster. All things considered, I'd say he got off easy. Watson: "All I'm saying is the captain knew it was you." Sherlock: "He suspected. Gruner never said a word about who marked him. Obviously, he didn't want to reveal his true connection to Kitty." Watson: "You really think that's gonna matter to the captain?" Kitty: "I wrote him a letter. The captain, after I got back. I didn't confess to anything… I knew that would put him in a spot… I just… apologized if I disappointed him. We're square." Sherlock: You heard her. They're square." [cut to Watson and Kitty in the police station] Watson: "You're sure about this?" Kitty: "Pretty sure." Watson: "What do you mean, you're pretty sure?" Kitty: "I mean, I'm reasonably certain he won't try to charge me with a two-year-old crime. 60/40. Ish." *Gregson spots Kitty, and immediately his face changes into looking pissed. She waves awkwardly and he begins walking toward her with what seems to be an angry face* Gregson: "Are you kidding me?" *stops in front of Kitty, then immediately his face changes into a happy and smiling one* "How come no one told me you were coming?" *proceeds to hug Kitty* Kitty, relieved: "It's sort of a long story, actually." Gregson: "Oh, yeah?" Kitty: "I could use your help." Gregson: "Okay, come on. We'll talk in my office." Watson: "Must've been one hell of a letter." Kitty: "Yep." *after explaining the case* Gregson: "I'll make some calls. You'll have all the help you need from the police in Jersey. But first, I'm gonna go find Marcus. I know he's gonna want to say hi to you."

Gregson about Hannah intentionally locating and killing the active serial murderer that killed someone she loved (which she fully went through with, before then intentionally disposing of Michael's dead body by putting it in the garbage with the help of a willing accomplice and only confessing to the crime to her cop father while being drunk), s6ep21:

Gregson: "How much do you know?" Sherlock: "Almost all of it. Michael was killed by a woman at the home of a man named Denny Mulgrew. An accomplice helped her dispose of the body: a man named Curtis Jenkins, father of Graham. I confess I don't know at what point you were drawn into the plot, but once you were, you realized that the killer could be undone by security footage recorded outside Mr. Jenkins' workplace, so you went there and you destroyed it. I spent the better part of today thinking that Michael's killer was Special Agent Mallick. But no. It's Hannah. Your daughter." Gregson: "Maddie wasn't just Hannah's roommate. She was her best friend. After Maddie's murder, Hannah took some time off. She was supposed to be getting her head together. Instead, she started looking into Rowan on her own. She dug in. She got to know all the people in his life. Including Denny Mulgrew. After she heard about what happened at your place, she got to thinking. He's not going to a hospital. He'd go to a guy like Mulgrew. So she played a hunch. She went to his place and staked it out. The next morning, after Mulgrew left, she found a way inside. She had her gun with her. But she thought that was too good for him, so she used her baton instead. Him calling Joan's name-- she never heard that. And she sure as hell didn't know the whole thing was being recorded." Sherlock: "So, when did she make you an accessory?" Gregson: "Couple hours later, I got a call from a friend of mine who owns a bar. He said Hannah was there and that she was in bad shape. So I went there, got her into my car. And that's when she told me everything." Sherlock: "You have to tell the FBI." Gregson: "I can't. No. Hannah's a cop. She can't go to prison."

[payservewomen]

I’m tempted to say “I’ve hit a new low”😔 but in reality, I’ve been at rock bottom for…a very long time. Years I suppose.

But at least a few years ago, I interacted with women outside of work. But now? I don’t even leave my bedroom on my days off from work.

I sit on my bed, watching humiliation clips; calling ignore phone lines; taking embarrassing photos of myself; edging myself, oftentimes for many hours(almost never less than 4hrs. up to 12hrs)

The one newer development is- I’ll edge for a while, but then the sadness/anxiety makes me go limp….or i’ll be semi hard but my loser penis only grows slightly larger.

It’s like i’m trying to keep in as small as possible, because I know it should be teeny tiny. It CAN grow to 7in but considering how pathetic I am, part of me wishes I had a microdick. Then I could forget these thoughts i have of becoming a normal person again.

Then I could search 24/7 for a superior woman who wants to use and abuse me.

I fantasize about meeting a woman and dating….Getting comfortable with her to the point that I’m able to do the best I’m capable of in making her orgasm…. But then we open up and share kinks etc….and i know as time goes on, there will be many times my dick doesn’t work.

Slowly over time, she realizes just how much of a beta i am, and begins flirting with real, confident men.

By this time, we’re living together; Maybe one month she asks me to cover all the rent, then bills and spends her money on going out….Then a “friend” of hers(maybe with a unisex name that’s usually a woman’s name)is coming into town; she offers our place to stay….Tells me to make dinner etc saying “ali loves lobster tails and filet mignon! I know ur low on money, but it’s ok! I’ll still have enough left until ur next paycheck! Thanks sweetie! Maybe we’ll meet at the airport, then I’ll let you know when we’re on our way, flight gets in i think about 5pm but who knows if it’ll be on time”

I get off work, begin prepping everything….texting her asking if ali’s plane arrived at 5:30….”it did but we’re tryna find the luggage etc. With traffic it’ll take quite a while, plan for a late dinner!”

By 6:30, still nothing, so i text then call to find her phones off.

I figure she’ll probably be walking in any minute….So i check the “find my iphone” tryna be extra sweet and have everything timed perfectly. I see it moved from the airport towards home and begin making dinner….Until i realize another hour has passed. I check it again to see it’s been somewhere between home and the airport for 2 hours now!

Next thing i know, it’s 10, then 11, then 12 midnight!

I’m dozing off and finally see a text “Omg babe i’m sorry! I lost track of time! Ali said getting a hotel room would be easier, and we’ve just been catching up but ugh it got so late and you know how i don’t like to drive at night anyway, so I’m just gonna stay here tonight, see ya tomorrow!”

I just fall asleep, and wake in the AM to see several weird video texts from a number i don’t know….I hear giggling and a man’s voice….almost seeming like someone’s trying to record something and my gf saying “no stop don’t! that’s mean ali!” There’s at least 4-5 clips like that, the last one ending with my girlfriends sexy belly on the screen. I figure ohhh they’re just having fun i guess? But it did give me a bad feeling in my stomach….

Those vids were sent at about 1am. Then at 2am, just a close up of what i’m sure is my gf’s skin, but i can’t tell what part of her body…..but the audio on it was simply my gfs voice sounding like she’s whining or moaning or something? and saying “mmmmm ohhhhk fuck it”

Then 30mins later the clip begins blacked out, but with clear audio…just sounds like licking and slurping….Then a man’s voice “yeah worship it bitch. Now, say it” then the phone moves, showing an arrogant looking man smiling, then it slowly pans down over his entire perfectly fit muscular body….very slowly, stopping on each part of his stunningly perfect body….i mean this guy had an 8pack! Absolutely chiseled in every way. Then it stops to show his abs and v-lines, and then slowly shows his balls…I didn’t know balls could actually be that big!

Then slowly as possible, the camera moves to show the thickest cock i’ve ever seen!

Then the vids stop…but there’s a text at 4am with only an address….my gf knows i wake up for work at 4am…

i call and text her but her phones off ofc. I go to work, and finally around noon, my gf calls saying she’s going shopping with Ali, saying she didn’t bring any of her credit cards asking if i’ve got any money left…i tell her i’m not sure how much, but i’ve got $500 in a sportsbook app from winning the night before…”omg babe that’s perfect! Don’t worry i can move it from there, is it your normal password?” I answer yes, and ask her just to leave at least $100 or so….

And ask if theyre gonna be having dinner tonight…”yeah sweetie we are! I’ll let you know when we’re on the way”

I ask her wtf all those vids were. and who that guy was and she replies “huh? Wait what? You’re telling me you got videos from a random number?! And it had a perfect man’s body with a horse cock?! Lol babe i dunno what websites you’ve been visiting but i’d imagine it’s something to do with that!🤣 What?! u think i’m cheating on you with an old friend or something?! jk! Love u babe”

I hang up the phone and immediately get the same text with the same address, i look up the address to find a really really nice hotel is there. Then another text comes through simply saying “penthouse suite, beta cuck”

Then another text….just a screenshot of a receipt from stub hub for tickets to the nuggets game that night, 5:10pm. 2 tickets, $250 each, wow, better than i’ve ever had for sure.

Then one more text again with the hotels address, saying “ur welcome to stop by whenever, but i suggest you either wait for us to get there or something. not getting up to open the door if we busy fuckin. Can’t wait to see your bitch ass cry🤣”

This one hits me like a ton of bricks and it’s feeling more n more that it’s gotta be exactly what it seems….but no way she’d do this to me!

The great part of our relationship is complete and total honesty and openness! My gf, allison is kinky and loves to be a dirty slut, and we have talked about her fucking others, maybe even a gangbang!

But we’d only done a handful of super kinky things….we’re both submissive so it’s kinda hard to push it and try really crazy n kinky things….we both need that more aggressive attitude!

But i know she loves me deeply. We’ve such an intensely strong emotional connection, more than either of us ever have!

Still no word from my gf and it’s 8pm. At 9pm she finally texts me but it’s the exact same as from the other phone number and it’s just the hotel address and room number…..I call her back, and it rings and rings until going to voicemail. Maybe she didn’t hear it, i call again…it rings 3-4times, less than the last time, then goes to voicemail. I try again and it rings twice then voicemail….Again, same thing. I call yet AGAIN, prob the 6th time and it goes straight to voicemail!

I check the phone locator app and see her phone was at ball arena(nuggets play there)the length of the game….and moved to exactly where the hotel is.

I get dressed, now fearing the worst, but thinking “ok this makes no sense! Either she’s playing some joke on me; something weird like that or some surprise for me?”But i do realize that the most likely thing is…maybe she’s been partying with her friend, she cheated and isn’t sure how to deal with me…..But what’s up with the pics etc? ofc she’s aware of my pervy kinks etc, and she’s prob making it seem like she’s cheating on me, i’m hoping!

I walk to the light rail station, and get on the train….Ugh yeh don’t have the money to get an uber…i checked my bet365 account to see its at zero!

Wtf?! I had some futures bets….ones i could cash out for about $250 total, but they were all just cashed out! i’ve not one bet at all and no money here!

I see that $800 was withdrawn and my bank account was credited $800! But $500 used for the tickets, and $300 spent at some weird fancy store downtown.

Ok that’s it i’ve gotta see what’s up as i’m sitting on the train, mind running wild. Fuck, i gotta get off and walk 20mins, then get a bus!

I get off the train, walking to the bus stop…..Bus finally comes and oh fuck, as i’m tryna buy a bus ticket on the app(for $2.75) It dawns on me “fuck i don’t have enough money in my account” i look at the driver and say “i’m not sure why it’s not working” he looks at it and says “yeah cuz you’re card is being declined, sorry” and closes the doors.

I’m defeated and want to cry. Looking at google, i see it’ll take 2.5 hours to walk there….

It’s now almost 10pm and i consider going back home, but then wtf?! I can’t just sit at home wondering wtf is going on!

So i walk and walk…i watch the clip again and again of the perfect man’s body, fantasizing that the woman i’m in love with is cheating on me in the meanest way possible….Finally, it’s after midnight and I arrive at the hotel….I ask the front desk how to get to the penthouse, and she tells me “the elevator is right over there, but Sir, there isn’t anyone staying there right now”

I thank her and walk away tryna figure out what to do.

I text my gf asking why she texted me that address. she texts back right away with another address! I lose it and call a few times, each time it’s sent to voicemail. I text her back yelling “OK WTF is going on?! What’s your problem? Tell me what’s happening right fucking now!”

She texts back “i’m sorry sweetie, i didn’t mean to upset you! Just having fun with my friend, sorry guess i didn’t realize….I’ll be home tonight, but we’re out, omg babe i’m so drunk! I’ll see you at home, probably late!”

So i begin to walk back home…and remember the light rail isn’t running anymore….Now, I’ve got a 3.5 hour walk!

Finally i arrive home, it rained a little and i’m soaked, socks wet, and miserable and exhausted….

I open the door and hear slurping sounds and my gf giggling. My heart sinks and i already know what’s happening….I yell “wtf are you laughing about?! The fuck is wrong with you, ur being a fucking bitch!”

And i see the same man from the clips emerge from my bedroom, butt naked….he’s holding my favorite shirt, sweat dripping off his immaculate body and he wipes it off, then wipes his asshole with it, now it has skidmarks and throws it at me, saying “wtf did you say bitch?”

I ask who he is and what he’s doing at my place he replies “whatever tf i feel like doing faggot!” I say no it’s my place, and no i’m not gay” i emphasize gay, since i’m not a fan of bigotry and homophobia…”yeh didn’t say your gay, but you ARE a bitch ass faggot! Wtf you gonna do about it, huh? that’s wtf i thought, now, on your knees…obey or i’m gonna beat you up so badly….maybe you’ll get outta the hospital by the time i get out of jail, but it’s your choice” while making his pecs bounce in a very intimidating way. he walks up to me cracking his knuckles saying “ya know, i really DO hope you put up a fight; nobody ever wants to fight me” I look him up and down, knowing he’d kill me quickly….He’s gotta be a foot taller than me….im 5’9 and he’s gotta be at least 6’6!

I ask if i can take my shoes and wet socks off first and he laughs then slaps me in the face, open handed but hard, immediately followed by a left handed slap, i lose my balance and stumble to my knees, then i say “ok ok” on my knees looking up at him.

“Thank me for bullying you. Do it bitch” i thank him, he laughs, spits on me and gives me a wedgie….i make noise indicating it’s hurting, and he proceeds to give me an atomic wedgie…laughs then demands i take my clothes off but keep my wet socks on….

He laughs hysterically at my dick and shouts “baby, how tf were you actually fucking THIS?! omfg, ok come on slut”

And i see my love…she’s crawling on all fours..crawls up to this greek god and begins kissing his feet. She works her way up his legs, as she kisses and licks literally every inch of his perfect body.

Ali then says “ok now, don’t make me tell you again”

She looks me directly in my eyes “Bobby, keep looking in my eyes, ali says we must keep eye contact and he’s in charge here, ok? Please listen to what he says, i don’t want you to get hurt, i really don’t…not physically anyway. I say that because i i i DO want you to get emotionally hurt. I am sorry but when Ali told me he wanted to fuck me, i told him about you. Over months he kept teasing me for fucking such a loser; i love you but you are a loser. He’s been sending me pics of him, and the girls he fucks and omg babe, they cum so hard, and I fondly remembered being fucked by ali. I broke up with him cuz he cheated constantly and i thought that wasn’t ok, Now i realize how superior he is. It’s a small price to pay to be allowed to touch a superior man, im sure you understand. After i admitted how badly i wanted him he began insulting you and making fun of you. He made me take pics and record our sex, and that’s why i haven’t cum in so long, he said i wasn’t allowed with a loser like you. Ali is a sadist, he loves to make women worship him and loves nothing more than breaking beta men like you. That’s not an insult; you’re a beta, he’s an alpha, ya know?

He’s been planning for months to do this….it’s his masterpiece of destroying a loser!”

By this time i’m crying, tears streaming down my face…

“now bobby, we’re recording all of this and you’re now going to thank ali for making your fantasies come true. I know it hurts; the goal is to break you. Ali and i will marry, and you will work for us and live in a tiny room in the basement. U will be used and abused. I know it hurts but this is your new life now. Sure you can run away or something, but then ali will send all the vids and clips to your entire contact list.

But right now you’re going to beg ali to let you eat his sweaty asshole, do it you fucking piece of shit!” By this time ali is rubbing her pussy with his foot and it’s making her horny af….mmm fuck, i fucking hate you loser!” And she spits on me, confusing and hurting me.

I begin to beg to eat his asshole….

And wow, I began this planning on just whining about being so sad and pathetic but then wrote all this…wow i’ve got issues

[enigmatist17]

Rewind (Pt 5)

Current chapters

---

He can hear the snickers as he packs, his fellow Watchers having seen his summons for the now-infamous Sunnydale. Everyone knew the assignment had been given to one the Council already didn't care for, so to have it be given to Wesley Wyndam-Pryce of all people fresh from the Academy, the subtext was clear.

It was a death sentence.

Or, it had been the first time. He'd been so bright-eyed and eager to prove what a fantastic Watcher he could be for two Slayers, hoping Father would be proud of him. He was excited for a different reason this time; those he loved were now so close within reach it was almost painful, the ticket waiting for him almost mocking from its spot on his desk. The biggest change he makes is to withdraw all the money his mother had set aside since he was a child, making sure it was set up in an international bank account with a strange sense of calm. He's out and gone the morning of his flight with nary a goodbye, leg bouncing as he waits patiently in the airline's lounge for his journey, not registering a single word on the page he stared at for hours.

There was too much to think about, too much to change and turn for the better; he almost couldn't decide where to start. The Circle was the first he thinks of, hand going over the spot he'd been stabbed as he remembered Illyria holding him when he passed, but they were not a pressing matter. Jasmine slithered into his thoughts next, bringing with her Connor and the horrors of the child he'd allowed to be stolen, and wondered if Connor would exist in this timeline. That particular memory follows him into his plane, dancing around in his mind for a time as the plane ascends, heading for a town that has changed everything. When he lands at Sunnydale International Airport just after sundown, Wesley grabs his bags and goes for his rental car, suppressing the urge to run like the building is on fire.

---

No one knocks on her door.

Looking up from a magazine she'd picked up a while ago, Faith stared at the door of her room with narrowed eyes, before the curiosity won over and she shuffled off her bed. Stake at the ready just in case, Faith opened the door to reveal...well, a guy. He's looking at her through a set of glasses with an almost fond expression, a suit jacket folded over his arms, collar undone and tie loose as he waits for Faith to have the first word.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Wesley Wyndam-Price, your newly assigned Watcher." He offered a hand with a soft smile, Faith staring at it before slowly reaching out and giving a small shake. "This might be too forward, but I've been given a flat to rent while I'm stationed here, and it has a second room I've no use for."

"Uh...what?" Faith pulled her hand away, staring at the man in a mixture of shock and surprise. Wesley doesn't seem put off by her response in the slightest, merely adjusting his stance as she struggled with what to say. "I have a place already?"

"This is not a place, dear; quite frankly, I'm surprised the Council didn't supply you with adequate housing." Wesley looked disgusted as he spoke, and a disgustingly warm feeling crossed over Faith's chest. "I aim to fix that."

"That's it? No offense buddy, but you don't even know me." Faith crossed her arms with a scowl. "How do I know it's not so you can tattle back to the Council of Assholes about how I live my life? That's the only reason they're finally sending someone."

She's not expecting the loud bark of laughter Wesley lets out, the man quite amused.

"I shall be doing nothing of the sort, they can quite frankly kiss my arse." Faith blinked as he chuckled, pulling out a folded piece of paper and holding it out, the Slayer grabbing it with an uncertain nod. "The spare key is inside, along with the address; feel free to check the space out whenever you'd like. It is truly a pleasure to meet you, and I look forward to working together."

"Uh...thanks, Wes." Faith winced at the nickname, but the other didn't seem to mind, a look she couldn't place flashing through his eyes before he smiled.

"I'll bid you goodnight then." With a short nod, Wesley took a step back and headed for his car, hope swirling in his chest as he headed for his flat.

---

Sunnydale High School was so much smaller than Wesley had remembered. He traveled familiar halls to the library, which started the true beginning of his journey. He'd elected to arrive in a more casual getup: tweed slacks and a button-up shirt with the arms rolled up, earning him a doubletake from Giles when he stepped into the room.

"Hello, do you need help with anything?" Every the helpful Watcher, or former by this time, Giles set aside the book he'd been holding to give his undivided attention.

"I'm Wesley Wyndam-Price, newly assigned Watcher for both Buffy Summers and Faith Lehane." He held out his hand, Giles giving a resigned sigh as he shook it.

"I see they were quick to send someone." Wesley can hear the faint disdain in his voice, but ignores it. "Rupert Giles."

"Oh, I'm well aware of who you are, and quite frankly, am not surprised they fired you." Wesley moves past Giles to take a seat, earning a raised eyebrow. "The Council has never been very smart when it comes to those who are much wiser than the ones who hold the reigns."

"...indeed." Giles narrowed his eyes at Wesley, trying to suss out some sort of ulterior motive as Wesley just watched him with his hands folded on top of the table. "I admit, I was expecting you to be-"

"A good tin soldier? A dutiful suck-up who is supposed to take charge in a battleground he's never seen?" Wesley laughed, Giles realizing with a slight start just how weary the younger man seemed to be. "I would be a fool to try and overstep, and I am not a bloody fool." Giles once again stared at the new Watcher for a solid minute before slowly pulling his glasses off to clean them, his initial irritation fading when he placed them back on.

"I'll call for the both of them to meet you in here, along with Buffy's allies." Wesley nodded with a wave of his hand, glancing to his left toward the stacks with a shrug.

"I've all the time in the world, it's no hurry." It was true, as far as the Council was concerned. There was a phantom tingle on the back of his neck about an hour later that was achingly familiar, the book he'd been reading through dropped on the table when Angel emerged from the stacks behind him. Giles is saying something when he caught sight of the vampire, but neither he nor Wesley seemed to hear him as hazel eyes stare into aquamarine.

The last time they'd done that, Wesley had walked away and to his death.

"Angel..." Cool hands are on either side of his face before the name fully leaves his lips, hazel eyes now golden as a familiar demonic visage drank in the sight of his face. "You're...small."

"Could say the same about you." He's not afraid when Angel's smile reveals his mouthful of fangs, Giles' faint gasp of surprise ignored as Angel brushes his thumbs under Wesley's eyes. "You look tired."

"I am." As much as he doesn't want to part, Angel shifts his face back to its human form, stepping back to look over at the stunned Giles behind Wesley. The older man's mouth opens and closes as he struggles to come up with the right words at the display before him, aware that something was going on that he was out of the loop on.

"I wasn't aware you both knew each other."

'It's a long story."

"One that's totally going to have to wait." A third voice made all three men jump in surprise as the library doors swung open, revealing its owner in all of her glory. Cordelia Chase commanded the room like she always had, the gaggle of Scoobies behind her clearly a bit confused as she zeroed in on the newly arrived Watcher, her face lighting up with a blazing smile. "Wes..."

"Cordelia..." His voice trembled despite the calming breath he'd taken at the sight of her, the current student dumping her books on the check-out table before she sprinted across the room and into his waiting arms. It's Angel's arm that shoots out to steady him, the only reason Wesley doesn't fall, hugging Cordelia as tight as he can as she does the same. They can hear the Scoobies making a bit of noise as they filter into the library and watch the spectacle, Angel's calm voice fielding their questions for now as he rests a hand on the small of Wesley's back, thumb slowly rubbing back and forth. He and Cordelia had spoken about how to bring everything up with Giles and the others before Wesley's arrival, but it turns out that seeing him as flesh and blood threw all of those plans out the window.

"I'm glad you're finally home, Wes. Giles just isn't as stuck up about research as you are." Cordelia finally pulled back with a watery smile, reaching up to kiss the Brit's forehead.

"Then fear no more." Wesley can't stop smiling when she finally moves to take up a free seat, Giles and the others all confused and curious about the scene they'd just watched.

"Since when did you know Watchers other than Oh Stuffy One?" Xander finally asked, eyes constantly darting between Cordelia and Wesley as his leg bounced.

"You'll find out soon enough." Cordelia smiles, checking her nails without a care in the world. "We still have someone else we're waiting on."

"That would be me, sup." Faith knocked open the library doors with a grin, twirling a keyring around an index finger. "Sorry I'm late, was checking out Wes's sweet crib. Moving in tonight, by the way."

"The pleasure is all mine." Wesley tipped his head as the second Slayer took a seat on the edge of the large meeting table, smiling at the pleased rumble he caught from Angel.

"Faith is moving in with you?" Buffy blinked, figuring Faith would have dismissed the new Watcher like she had Giles.

"I'll not have one of my charges living like that." His reply was simple, and Wesley cleaned his glasses before slipping them back on with a look towards Cordelia.

"So...who wants to start?"