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shihalyfie · 4 years ago

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Hi :) If it's not too much trouble, could you please share your take on why they'd continue the Adventure brand after tri. was such a flop? (and a tangent: what does "dark history" even mean?). We got Kizuna, the reboot, and a 02 movie. Logically, it doesn't really make sense they'd keep investing in it.

This is a thorny topic, and I'd like to reiterate that although I've ended up making more posts related to this series and the discourse surrounding it recently (probably because it's even more on the mind now that another movie is on the horizon and a lot of people are apprehensive for various reasons), I do not want this blog to be making a brand out of being critical of this series. I’m writing this here and in public because I figured that there is a certain degree I need to clarify what I mean about audience reception/climate and how it might impact current or future works, and I’m admittedly also more than a little upset that I occasionally see Western fanbase criticisms of the series getting dismissed by people claiming that the only people mad about it are dramamongering or ignorant Westerners (which could not be further from the truth). However, this is mainly to address this and to answer your question, and is not intended to try and change anyone's existing opinion or impression of the series as much as it's me trying to explain (from my own personal reading of the situation) what practically went down with critical reception in real life; no more, no less.

The short summary of the matter is:

The series was a moderate financial success (albeit with some caveats; see the long version for details) and definitely outstripped a lot of prior attempts to revive the franchise;

However, the overall Japanese fanbase-side critical backlash from tri. was extremely and viciously negative to the point where even acknowledging the series too much could easily result in controversy;

Kizuna’s production and the PR surrounding it very obviously have this in mind with a lot of apparent “damage control” elements.

The long version is below.

Note that while I try to be diligent about citing my sources so people understand that I’m not just making things up wholesale, I’m deliberately refraining from linking certain things here this time, both because some of the things mentioned have some pretty crude things written there -- it’s not something I feel comfortable directing people to regardless of what language it’s in -- and because I don’t want to recklessly link things on social media and cause anyone to go after or harass the people involved. For the links that have been provided, please still be warned that some of them don’t really link to particularly pleasant things.

I am not writing the following information to suggest that anyone should agree or disagree with the sentiments being described. I know people tend to take "a lot of people like/hate this" as a signal of implication "it is correct to like/hate this" when it's not (and I especially dislike the idea of implying that Japanese fanbase opinions are the only correct ones). There's a reason I focus on "critical reception being this way" (because it influences marketing decisions and future direction) rather than how much this should impact one's personal feelings; this is coming from myself as someone who is shamelessly proud of liking many things that had bad critical reception, were financial failures, or are disliked by many. As I point out near the end, the situation also does seem to be changing for the better in more recent years as well.

Also, to be clear, I'm a single person who's observing everything best I can from my end, I have no affiliations with staff nor do I claim to, and as much as I'm capable of reading Japanese and thus reading a lot of people's impressions, I'm ultimately still another “outsider” looking in. These are my impressions from my observation of fan communal spaces, following artists and reading comments on social media and art posting websites, and results from social media searches. In the end, I know as much as anyone else about what happened, so this is just my two cents based on all of my personal observations.

A fanbase is a fanbase regardless of what part of the world you're from. There are people who love it and are shameless about saying so. There are people who have mixed feelings or at least aren't on extreme ends of the spectrum (as always, the loudest ones are always the most visible, but it's not always easy to claim they're the predominant percentage of the fanbase). That happens everywhere, and I still find that on every end I've seen. However, if I'm talking about my impressions and everything I’ve encountered, I will say that the overall Japanese reaction to tri. comes off as significantly more violently negative on average than the Western one, which is unusual because often it's the other way around. (I personally feel less so because the opinions are that fundamentally different and more so because we're honestly kind of loud and in-your-face people; otherwise, humans are mostly the same everywhere, and more often than not people feel roughly the same about everything if they’re given the same information to work with.)

This is not something I can say lightly, and thus would not say if I didn’t really get this impression, but...we're talking "casually looking up movie reviews for Kizuna have an overwhelming amount of people casually citing any acknowledgment of tri. elements as a negative element", or the fact that even communal wikis for "general" fandoms like Pixiv and Aniwota don't tend to hold back in being vicious about it (as of this writing, Pixiv's wiki refuses to consider it in the same timeline as Adventure, accusing it of being "a series that claims to be a sequel set three years after 02 but is in fact something different"). Again, there are people who openly enjoy it and actively advocate for it (and Pixiv even warns people to not lord over others about it condescendingly because of the fact that such people do exist), and this is also more of a reflection of “the hardcore fanbase on the Internet” and not necessarily the mainstream (after all, there are quite a few other Digimon works where the critical reception varies very heavily between the two). Nevertheless, the take-home is that the reputation is overall negative among the Internet fanbase to the point that this is the kind of sentiment you run into without trying all that hard.

I think, generally speaking, if we're just talking about why a lot of people resent the series, the reasons aren't that different from those on the Western side. However, that issue of "dark history" (黒歴史): there's a certain degree of demand from the more violently negative side of the fanbase that's, in a sense, asking official to treat it as a disgrace and never acknowledge it ever again, hence why Kizuna doing so much as borrowing things from it rather than rejecting it outright is still sometimes treated like it’s committing a sin. So it's somewhat close in spirit to a retcon movement, which is unusual because no other Digimon series gets this (not even 02; that was definitely a thing on the Western end, but while I'm sure there are people who hate it that much on their end too, I've never really seen it gain enough momentum for anyone to take it seriously). If anyone ever tells you that Japanese fanbases are nice to everything, either they don't know Japanese, are being willfully ignorant, or are lying to you, because there is such thing as drama in those areas, and in my experience, I've seen things get really nasty when things are sufficiently pushed over the edge, and if a fanbase wants to have drama, it will have drama. This happens to be one of those times.

(If you think this is extreme, please know that I also think so too, so I hope you really understand that me describing this sentiment does not mean I am personally endorsing it. Also, let me reiterate that the loudest section of the fanbase is not necessarily the predominant one; after all, as someone who’s been watching reactions to 02 over the years, I myself can attest that its hatedom has historically made it sound more despised than it actually is in practice.)

My impression is that the primary core sentiment behind why the series so much as existing and being validated is considered such an offense (rather than, say, just saying "wow, that writing was bad" and moving on) is heavily tied to the release circumstances the series came out in during 2015-2018, and the idea that "this series disrespected Adventure, and also disrespected the fanbase.” (I mean, really, regardless of what part of the world you’re from, sequels and adaptations tend to be held to a higher bar of expectation than standalone works, because they’re expected to do them justice.) A list of complaints I’ve come across a lot while reading through the above:

The Japanese fanbase is pretty good at recordkeeping when it comes to Adventure universe lore, partially because they got a lot of extra materials that weren’t localized, but also partially because adherence to it seems to generally be more Serious Business to them than it is elsewhere. For instance, “according to Adventure episode 45, ‘the one who wishes for stability’ (Homeostasis) only started choosing children in 1995, and therefore there can be no Chosen Children before 1995” is taken with such gravity that this, not anything to do with evolutions or timeline issues, is the main reason Hurricane Touchdown’s canonicity was disputed in that arena (because Wallace implies that he met his partners before 1995). It’s a huge reason the question of Kizuna also potentially not complying to lore came to the forefront, because tri. so flagrantly contradicts it so much that this issue became very high on the evaluation checklist. In practice, Kizuna actually goes against Adventure/02 very little, so the reason tri. in particular comes under fire for this is that it does it so blatantly there were theories as early as Part 1 that this series must take place in a parallel universe or something, and as soon as it became clear it didn’t, the resulting sentiment was “wow, you seriously thought nobody would notice?” (thus “disrespecting the audience”).

A lot of the characterization incongruity is extremely obvious when you’re following only the Japanese version, partially because it didn’t have certain localization-induced characterization changes (you are significantly less likely to notice a disparity with Mimi if you’re working off the American English dub where they actually did make her likely to step on others’ toes and be condescending, whereas in Japanese the disparity is jarring and hard to miss) and partially due to some things lost in translation (Mimi improperly using rough language on elders is much easier to spot as incongruity if you’re familiar with the language). Because it’s so difficult to miss, and honestly feels like a lot of strange writing decisions you’d make only if you really had no concept of what on earth happened in the original series, it only contributes to the idea that they were handling Adventure carelessly and disrespectfully without paying attention to what the series was even about (that, or worse, they didn’t care).

02 is generally well-liked there! It’s controversial no matter where you go, but as I said earlier, there was no way a retcon movement would have ever been taken seriously, and the predominant sentiment is that, even if you’re not a huge fan of it, its place in canon (even the epilogue) should be respected. So not only flagrantly going against 02-introduced lore but also doing that to a certain quartet is seen as malicious, and you don’t have as much of the converse discourse celebrating murdering the 02 quartet (yeah, that’s a thing that happened here) or accusing people with complaints of “just being salty because they like 02″ as nearly as much of a factor; I did see it happen, or at least dismissals akin to “well it’s Adventure targeted anyway,” but they were much less frequent. The issue with the 02 quartet is usually the first major one brought up, and there’s a lot of complaints even among those who don’t care for 02 as much that the way they went about it was inhumane and hypocritical, especially when killing Imperialdramon is fine but killing Meicoomon is a sin. Also, again, “you seriously think nobody will see a problem with how this doesn’t make sense?”

I think even those who are fans of the series generally agree with this, but part of the reason the actual real-life time this series went on is an important factor is that the PR campaign for this series was godawful. Nine months of clicking on an egg on a website pretending like audience participation meant something when in actuality it was blatantly obvious it was just a smokescreen to reveal info whenever they were ready? This resulted in a chain effect where even more innocuous/defensible things were viewed in a suspicious or negative light (for instance, "the scam of selling the fake Kaiser's goggles knowing Ken fans would buy it only to reveal that it's not him anyway"), and a bunch of progressively out-of-touch-with-the-fanbase statements and poor choices led to more sentiment “yeah, you’re just insulting the fanbase at this point,” and a general erosion of trust in official overall.

On top of that, the choice of release format to have it spread out as six movies over three years seems to have exacerbated the backlash to get much worse than it would have been otherwise, especially since one of the major grievances with the series is that how it basically strung people along, building up more and more unanswered questions before it became apparent it was never going to answer them anyway. So when you’re getting that frustrated feeling over three whole years, it feels like three years of prolonged torture, and it becomes much harder to forgive for the fallout than if you’d just marathoned the entire thing at once.

For those who are really into the Digimon (i.e. species) lore and null canon, while I’m not particularly well-versed in that side of the fanbase, it seems tri. fell afoul of them too for having inaccurately portrayed (at one point, mislabeled) special attacks and poorly done battle choreography, along with the treatment of Digimon in general (infantilized Digimon characterization, general lack of Digimon characters in general, very flippant treatment of the Digital World in Parts 3-5). If you say you’re going to “reboot” the Digital World and not address the entire can of worms that comes with basically damaging an entire civilization of Digimon, as you can imagine, a lot of people who actually really care about that are going to be pissed, and the emerging sentiment is “you’re billing this as a Digimon work, but you don’t even care about the monsters that make up this franchise.”

The director does not have a very positive reputation among those who know his work (beyond just Digimon), and in general there was a lot of suspicion around the fact they decided to get a guy whose career has primarily been built on harem and fanservice anime to direct a sequel to a children’s series. Add to that a ton of increasingly unnerving statements about how he intended to make the series “mature” in comparison to its predecessor (basically, an implication that Adventure and 02 were happy happy joy series where nothing bad ever happened) and descriptions of Adventure that implied a very, very poor grasp of anything that happened in it: inaccurate descriptions of their characters, poor awareness of 02′s place in the narrative, outright saying in Febri that he saw the Digimon as like perpetual kindergartners even after evolving, and generally such a flippant attitude that it drove home the idea that the director of an Adventure sequel had no respect for Adventure, made this series just to maliciously dunk on it for supposedly being immature, and has such a poor grasp of what it even was that it’s possible he may not have seen it in the first place (or if he did, clearly skimmed it to the extent he understood it poorly to pretty disturbing levels). As of this writing, Aniwota Wiki directly cites him as a major reason for the backlash.

In general, consensus seems to be that the most positively received aspect of the series (story-wise) was Part 3 (mostly its ending, but some are more amenable to the Takeru and Patamon drama), and the worst vitriol goes towards Parts 2 (for the blatantly contradictory portrayal of Mimi and Jou and the hypocritical killing of Imperialdramon) and 4 (basically the “point of no return” where even more optimistic people started getting really turned off). This is also what I suspect is behind the numbers on the infamous DigiPoll (although the percentage difference is admittedly low enough to fall within margin of error). However, there was suspicion about the series even from Part 1, with one prominent fanartist openly stating that it felt more like meeting a ton of new people than it did reuniting with anyone they knew.

So with all of that on the table: how did this affect official? The thing is that when I say “violently negative”, I mean that also entailed spamming official with said violently negative social media comments. While this is speculation, I am fairly certain that official must have realized how bad this was getting as early as between Parts 4 and 5, because that’s where a lot of really suspicious things started happening behind the scenes; while I imagine the anime series itself was now too far in to really do anything about it, one of the most visible producers suddenly vanished from the producer lineup and was replaced by Kinoshita Yousuke, who ended up being the only member of tri. staff shared with Kizuna (and, in general, the fact that not a single member of staff otherwise was retained kind of says a lot). Once the series ended in 2018 and the franchise slowly moved into Kizuna-related things, you might notice that tri.-branded merch production almost entirely screeched to a halt and official has been very touchy about acknowledging it too deeply; it’s not that they don’t, but it’s kind of an awfully low amount for what you’d think would be warranted for a series that’s supposed to be a full entry in the big-name Adventure brand.

The reason is, simply, that if they do acknowledge it too much, people will get pissed at them. That’s presumably why the tri. stage play (made during that interim period between Parts 4 and 5 and even branded with the title itself) and Kizuna are really hesitant to be too aggressive about tri. references; it’s not necessarily that official wants to blot it out of history like the most extreme opinions would like them to, but even being too enthusiastic about affirming it will also get them backlash, especially if the things they affirm are contradictory to Adventure or 02. And considering even the small references they did put in still got them criticism for “affirming” tri. too much, you can easily see that the backlash would have been much harder if they’d attempted more than that; staying as close as possible to Adventure and 02 and trying to deal with tri. elements only when they’re comparatively inoffensive was pretty much the “safe” thing to do in this scenario (especially since fully denying tri. would most certainly upset the people who did like the series, and if you have to ask me, I personally think this would have been a pretty crude thing to have done right after the series had just finished). Even interviews taken after the fact often involve quickly disclaiming involvement with the series, or, if they have to bring up something about it, discussing the less controversial aspects like the art (while the character designs were still controversial, it’s at least at the point where some fanartists will still be willing to make use of them even if they dislike the series, albeit often with prominent disclaimers) or the more well-received parts of Part 3; Kizuna was very conspicuously marketed as a standalone movie, even if it shared the point of “the Adventure kids, but older” that tri. had.

(Incidentally, the tri. stage play has generally been met with a good reputation and was received well even among people who were upset with the anime, so it was well-understood that they had no relation. In fact, said stage play is probably even better received than Kizuna, although that’s not too surprising given the controversial territory Kizuna goes into, making the stage play feel very play-it-safe in comparison.)

So, if we’re going to talk about Kizuna in particular: tri. was, to some degree, a moderate financial success, in the sense that it made quite a bit of money and did a lot to raise awareness of the Digimon brand still continuing...however, if you actually look at the sales figures for tri., they go down every movie; part of it was probably because of the progressively higher “hurdle” to get into a series midway, but consider that Gundam Unicorn (a movie series which tri.’s format was often compared to) had its sales go up per movie thanks to word of mouth and hype. So while tri. does seem to have gotten enough money to help sustain the franchise at first, the trade-off was an extremely livid fanbase that had shattered faith in the brand and in official, and so while continuing the Adventure brand might still be profitable, there was no way they were going to get away with continuing to do this lest everything eventually crash and burn.

Hence, if you look at the way Kizuna was produced and advertised, you can see a lot of it is blatantly geared at addressing a lot of the woes aimed at tri.: instead of the staff that had virtually no affiliation with Toei, the main members of staff announced were either from the original series (Seki and Yamatoya) or openly childhood fans, the 02 quartet was made into a huge advertising point as a dramatic DigiFes reveal (and character profies that tie into the 02 epilogue careers prominently part of the advertising from day one), and they even seemed to acknowledge the burnout on the original Adventure group by advertising it so heavily as “the last adventure of Taichi and his friends”, so you can see that there’s a huge sentiment of “damage control” with it. How successful that was...is debatable, since opinions have been all over the board; quite a few people were naturally so livid at what happened with tri. that Kizuna was just opening more of the wound, but there were also people who liked it much better and were willing to acknowledge it (with varying levels of enthusiasm, some simply saying “it was thankfully okay,” and some outright loving it), and there was a general sentiment even among those who disliked both that they at least understood what Kizuna was going for and that it didn’t feel as inherently disrespectful. (Of course, there are people who loved tri. and hated Kizuna, and there are people who loved both, too.)

Moreover, Kizuna actually has a slightly different target audience from tri.; there’s a pretty big difference between an OVA and a theatrical movie, and, quite simply, Kizuna was made under the assumption that a lot of people watching it may not have even seen tri. in the first place. An average of 11% of the country watched Adventure and 02, but the number of people who watched tri. is much smaller, in part due to the fact that its “theater” screenings were only very limited screenings compared to Kizuna being shown in theaters in Japan and worldwide, and in part due to the fact that watching six parts over three years is a pretty huge commitment for someone who may barely remember Digimon as anything beyond a show they watched as a kid, and may be liable to just fall off partway through because they simply just forgot. (Which also probably wasn’t helped by the infamously negative reputation, something that definitely wouldn’t encourage someone already on the fence.) And that’s yet another reason Kizuna couldn’t make too many concrete tri. references; being a theatrical movie, it needs to have as wide appeal as possible, and couldn’t risk locking out an audience that had a very high likelihood of not having seen it, much less to the end -- it may have somewhat been informed by tri.’s moderate financial success and precedent, but it ultimately was made for the original Adventure and 02 audience more than anything else.

I would say that, generally, while Kizuna is “controversial” for sure, reception towards the movie seems to be more positive than negative, it won over a large chunk of people who were burned out by tri., and it clearly seems to have been received well enough that it’s still being cashed in on a year after its release. The sheer existence of the upcoming 02-based movie is also probably a sign of Kizuna’s financial and critical success; Kinoshita confirmed at DigiFes 2020 that nothing was in production at the time, and stated shortly after the movie’s announcement that work on it had just started. So the decision to make it seems to have been made after eyeing Kizuna’s reception, and, moreover, the movie was initially advertised from the get-go with Kizuna’s director and writer (Taguchi and Yamatoya), meaning those two have curried enough goodwill from the fanbase that this can be used to promote the movie. (If not, you would think that having and advertising Seki would be the bigger priority.) While this is my own sentiment, I am personally doubtful official would have even considered 02 something remotely profitable enough on its own to cash in on if it weren’t for this entire sequence of events of 02′s snubbing in tri. revealing how much of a fanbase it had (especially with the sheer degree of “suspicious overcompensation” Kizuna had with its copious use of the 02 quartet and it tagging a remix of the first 02 ED on the Hanareteitemo single, followed by the drama CD and character songs), followed by Kizuna having success in advertising with them so heavily. Given all of the events between 2015 and now, it’s a bit ironic to see that 02 has now become basically the last resort to be able to continue anything in the original Adventure universe without getting too many people upset at them about it.

The bright side coming out of all of this is that, while it’s still a bit early to tell, now that we’re three years out from tri. finishing up and with Kizuna in the game, it seems there’s a possibility for things improving around tri.’s reception as well. Since a lot of the worst heated points of backlash against it have a very “you had to have been there” element (related to the PR, release schedule, and staff comments), those coming in “late” don’t have as much reason to be as pissed at it; I’ve seen at least one case of a fanartist getting back into the franchise because of Kizuna hype, watching tri. to catch up, casually criticizing it on Twitter, and moving on with their life, presumably because marathoning the whole thing being generally aware of what’ll happen in it and knowing Kizuna is coming after anyway gives you a lot less reason to be angry to the point of holding an outright grudge. Basically, even if you don’t like it, it’s much easier to actually go “yeah, didn’t like that,” not worry too much about it, and move on. Likewise, I personally get the impression that official has been starting to get a little more confident about digging up elements related to it. Unfortunately, a fairly recent tweet promoting the series getting put on streaming services still got quite a few angry comments implying that they should be deleting the scourge from the Internet instead, so there’s still a long way to go, but hopefully the following years will see things improve further...

In regards to the reboot, I -- and I think a lot of people will agree with me -- have a bit of a hard time reading what exact audience it’s trying to appeal to; we have a few hints from official that they want parents to watch it with their children, and that it may have been a necessary ploy in order to secure their original timeslot. So basically, the Adventure branding gets parents who grew up with the original series to be interested in it and to show it to their kids, and convinces Fuji TV that it might be profitable. But as most people have figured by now, the series has a completely different philosophy and writing style -- I mean, the interview itself functionally admits it’s here to be more action-oriented and to have its own identity -- and the target audience is more the kids than anything else. As for the Internet fanbase of veterans, most people have been critical of its character writing and pacing, but other than a few stragglers who are still really pissed, it hasn’t attracted all that much vitriol, probably because in the end it’s an alternate universe, it doesn’t have any obligation to adhere to anything from the original even if it uses the branding, and it’s clearly still doing its job of being a kids’ show for kids who never saw the original series nor 02, so an attempt to call it “disrespectful” to the original doesn’t have much to stand on. A good number of people who are bored of it decided it wasn’t interesting to them and dropped it without incident, while other people are generally just enjoying it for being fun, and the huge amount of Digimon franchise fanservice with underrepresented Digimon and high fidelity to null canon lore is really pleasing the side of the fanbase that’s into that (I mean, Digimon World Golemon is really deep in), so at the very least, there’s not a lot to be super-upset about.

#tri negativity #shiha's ask box #springcrafter

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cellard0ors · 4 years ago

Text

Fic: Movement (2/?)

Still dedicated to the wonderful @peachworthy. you read part one than you know - GMM Rhink AU - College Student Link/Pornstar Rhett AU

“Got it right again, man! You’re going to ace this test!” Rhett crows as he tosses down another notecard and Link pumps his arms in triumph. The two of them are settled in the kitchen, piles of books and notecards spread around as well as few bottles of beers and some bowls of chips.

Link picks up one chip and pops it into his mouth, grinning at his roommate fondly, “Well, couldn’t’ve done it without you, pal. You are, without a doubt, the best study buddy I’ve ever had.”

“Aw shucks, gonna make me blush,” Rhett laughs even though it’s Link who feels his cheeks actually grow warm, his friend’s laughter a common cause of the occurrence.

They’ve been living together for over a month now and it’s been beyond amazing. Link would’ve never guessed a guy like Rhett and a guy like him would work so well together.

It’s like they’re the world’s weirdest, most convoluted puzzle yet all the pieces click together to form a full picture that is nothing short of a masterpiece. True, there’s a lot about Rhett Link doesn’t know yet (and gosh is there a lot he wants to know) but their friendship is running smoothly.

Well, smoothly save for the massive crush Link has on the guy, albeit he’s doing his damned best to squash it. Yes, Rhett’s attractive and yes, he’s the first guy Link’s ever met that he’s felt a real zing for, but the fact of the matter is – Link would much rather have him as a friend and roommate than lose him as a…well, Link’s not sure if he’d lose him, but the mere possibility keeps Link’s lips sealed.

Besides, it’s okay to crush on someone and never act on it. People do it all the time. Not to mention that it’s a bit…odd to crush on someone in Rhett’s line of work. Isn’t it?

Link can’t think of too many people who will admit to crushing on an adult film star. Regular, mainstream film stars, sure – but adult film stars?

Yeah…

Although, to be frank, Link’s sure there are some that do. And, hopefully, some of them are not the creepy internet troll-y kind of people, but genuine salt of the earth folks like himself. Because, okay, he is crushing on one so…

Rhett is toying with the cards, maybe looking for the next question to quiz Link on when he asks idly, “Y’know, Link – I gotta say, I admire your stamina.”

That remarks makes Link choke on the drink he’s just been consuming, a cough clearing it up some as he croaks, “I’m-I’m sorry?”

Rhett hums noncommittally, as if not noticing the gaffe, “You’ve had yet to grill me about my job. Normally, once folks hear about it, that’s all they want to talk about.”

“Oh,” Link breathes out loosely, “Well, ah-? It-? It just…seemed rude to-to ask…”

“Been over a month living with me now. You telling me you ain’t interested?”

“I didn’t say that!” Link quips back much quicker than he would like, but Rhett just gives him the most perfect smile. All sincere and warm beneath his beard and remember, Link, you’re doing you’re best not to crush on him!

Rhett is still toying with the cards, eyelashes downcast, the very visual definition of shy as he murmurs, “Just sayin’…I don’t mind if you wanna ask some stuff.”

Link’s eyebrows rise in such a way as to damn near bump his glasses off, “Y-You sure?”

Rhett draws in a deep inhale and then sits the cards down. He crosses his arms and leans back in his seat, looking quite serious even despite the casual red flannel and jeans, as if this was more of an interview (or perhaps an interrogation?) than anything else, “Shoot.”

The a million and one questions that Link has kept at bay about Rhett’s job and more personal life threaten to cave his skull in as they crash about in his mind. However, he has to go with the obvious, “Know this’ll be predictable, but…why?”

Rhett just bobs his head in an understanding nod even as Link pushes on, “Why and how?”

Rhett sucks on his teeth before picking up his own beer and taking a fortifying sip before continuing, “The two are kinda interconnected to be honest. Had a fallin’ out with my family. Think I mentioned it in passin’ to you once. But, to clarify; they weren’t too happy with my chosen living destination nor with the fact that I’d come to terms with the notion that I’m attracted to both the ladies and the gents.”

Link’s mind immediately (and joyously) clings to ‘the gents’ remark, bookmarking it for future reference, even as Rhett continues his tale, “You grew up where we did. So you get it.”

Link does. And then, to nail the point home, Rhett adds, “Probably get it a lot more than others. If my…instincts are to be believed.”

Shit.

SHIT.

Link’s whole body immediately bursts into flame, the tips of his ears so hot he’s sure they’re glowing bright red.

Rhett knows I’m gay. He knows. I thought having a radar for that kind of thing was bullhonkey, but he knows and oh, lord, oh lord – do I give off some sorta vibe? I know that girl in my screenwriting class, Stevie, she teased me about being an A-Level twink or something, but I didn’t think-!

Rhett’s laughter carves right through Link’s insecurities, “Take a breath, brother! Look like you’re about to pop!”

Link does and Rhett just shakes his head, still grinning, “Point being – I was pretty much a babe in the woods when I came to LA. Not two nickels to my name, so I took whatever gigs I could get. Managed to snag a few commercials and things of that nature, but you know the drill. Jobs are hard to come by. And a guy of my height?”

He blows out a big breath and tosses all of those luxurious curls about with a rueful head shake, “Yeah, most people fingered me for a baller, so – again – jobs were hard to come by. But then, wouldn’t you know it? A friend of a friend of a contact told me about this part they thought I’d be perfect for.”

Another deep barrel chested chuckle emerges as he reminiscences, “Mighta been nice of ‘em to let me know it was actually a part of me they thought would be perfect.”

Do not zero in on his crotch! Do NOT zero in on his crotch! Charles Lincoln Neal the Third DO NOT-!

Link keeps his eyes so steadfastly forward he probably looks like some bug eyed zombie. If Rhett notices, he doesn't comment, “Anyway, when I found out what the role was, I had planned to politely decline but, y’know, the money they offered…”

There’s an easy shrug and this Link can look at. He looks at Rhett, who looks a bit sheepish as he scratches at one side of his beard, “I mean, again, you grew up where I did. So, you know how the whole ‘wait until marriage’ thing was drilled into your head, but I figured it wasn’t like anybody would know. My family’d cut me off, my friends were few and far in between, and the people on set…”

Now he looks a bit happier and Link can’t help but smile along with him, “The people on set were all right. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the kind of stories people tend to spin – the exploitation, the drug abuse, other questionable stuff…place I was at wasn’t like that. I mean, maybe I just lucked out or something, but it was…”

Another shrug and he goes for his beer again. Link figures this is as good a time as any to get in another question, “So, you did that and then you…? Just kept going?”

Rhett nods as he drinks, the bottle leaving his mouth with an obscene pop that Link is going to do his best to forget all about right now and certainly not recall at any point in the future (and most certainly NOT when he’s jacking off later), “Yeah, I did the one and the director really liked me. He pull me aside and told me about this company he was trying to set up with a couple of buddies of his. They wanted to go in a classier direction – know how funny that sounds, but he was serious.”

“So, what? No, like, blockbuster porno knock offs? Like ‘Sex in The City and ON the City’ or ‘Arma-get-it-on’?”

“Think you stole that last one from an episode of CSI.”

“I did, doesn’t change the question.”

They’re both smiling like a couple of fools, but the mood is good and the atmosphere light as Rhett sighs, “Yeah, nothing like that. I’ve actually worked with a few female directors, shot some things with great budgets, nice lighting, good costumes…”

“Oooo, costumes,” Link teases in the silliest voice and Rhett swats out at him. Link avoids the hit even as Rhett rolls his eyes, “I’m serious, dude. Some of the things that department pumps out looks better than anything you’d see in Hollywood.”

“Hmm, some kinda wood,” Link snickers and this time Rhett’s swat makes impact, brushing Link’s shoulder and Link would be embarrassed by the giggle he lets out, if it weren’t for the way Rhett’s nose is all scrunched up, making him look beyond adorable, “You’re sucha brat!”

Link sticks out his tongue and Rhett just laughs. They turn their attention to the drinks and chips for awhile before Link circles around to another question, “You like it then?”

“It’s a living,” Rhett confirms, not really answering one way or another, “Like I said – make great money, work with some really nice people.”

“Uh,” Link scratches behind one ear, “Hate to ask, but, um…clean people?”

Rhett doesn’t seem offended, “You bet. Have to be. Another reason I’ve done this as long as I have. Money's great, but the safety is even better. I’m currently under contract with that same company I told you about – the one that director brought me under. On top of wanting to,” he air quotes his next words, “be classier’-”

He drops the quotes, “They wanted to provide an excellent work environment. Heck, me and the other actors and actresses probably have a cleaner bill of health than the entire state. Can’t shoot scene one until you’ve got the A-Okay.”

“Huh,” Link absorbs that with some surprise, but then, he supposes it really shouldn’t be. The adult film industry is a big lumbering beast right alongside it’s more recognized counterpart. No reason one shouldn’t be as cautious as the other. If anything, one has more right to be cautious.

Thinking on this, Link suddenly feels an odd pang. It’s a shame in one way that’s one viewed as more reckless than the other, more questionable. But, when viewed through a mostly puritan lens…

Not wanting to get too philosophical, Link switches gears, “You been in a lot of films?”

“My fair share.”

Another dodge, but Link will let him have it. However, he can practically feel devil horns rise as he asks with a naughty gleam to his eye, “Win any awards?”

Rhett’s practically preening, “Several.”

“Really?” Link asks with some surprise, but Rhett suddenly looks quite naughty himself. Naughty and…a bit too hot for Link’s liking as the heat that always seems to surround him when he’s near Rhett rises and woo boy, he’s really failing at this squashing-the-crush thing.

“If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll show you one of my trophies some time…”

Everything in Link melts into a puddle and he’s not sure what expression he’s wearing, but it’s one that makes Rhett’s whole face light up, “…or maybe, just maybe, I’ll show you a little somethin’ else…”

If it’s possible for a melted puddle to also explode, then Link’s just done it. Rhett bursts into guffaws as he reaches forward and, very smoothly, pushes Link’s jaw up because Link’s jaw? It dropped. He didn’t even feel it drop.

And then, to just add more fuel to the fire, Rhett rubs the pad of his thumb along the bottom of Link’s chin, right below his lip, “Damn, son…you’re just too much for words.”

“I…”

That’s it.

That’s all that Link can offer.

Just one sound, one vowel.

Silent and stunned and Rhett draws back, looking like the cat that ate the canary as he lets him go and rises up from his seat, “Think you need a moment. I’ll be back in a bit.”

And – just like that – Rhett saunters out of the room.

#rhink #randl #my writing #peachworthy #oh my sweet peach

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the-pontiac-bandit · 4 years ago

Note

If you're still answering tortall prompts, how about Raoul + family?

wow why NOT write 2000 words of blatant, shameless fluff about families you make for yourself??? inspired by this quote from tammy: “[Raoul and Buri] have glorious sex under trees, in tents, in lakes…. In carriages. I think at some point they’ll probably adopt. By the time they’re attached Buri’s getting a little old to have any of her own. It’s not like there aren’t plenty of orphans around.”

As Raoul stretched out, trying to make himself comfortable in his too-hard, too-small desk chair, he savored the warm feeling filling his chest and threatening to spill out and take physical form in front of him. In the midst of the most head-spinning, headache-inducing, sleep-sapping, joy-filled week he’d ever experienced, he’d had precious little time to slow down and simply exist within his new reality. He thought to close his eyes, the better to feel everything, but they only stayed shut for a moment before they forced themselves back open. He couldn’t stop looking at the scene in front of him for long.

Buri lounged cross-legged on their bed, far more relaxed than he had been at any point this week. Kel sat next to her, her back straight and her long legs carefully hanging off one side so as not to get dust from the practice courts on their bedding. Both had just returned from a full morning of training, sweaty despite a change of clothes and coated in dust despite a thorough washing, courtesy of a long, hot summer that had refused to give them rain.

Between them was the baby.

His son, he reminded himself. He thought the words a few extra times, even mouthing them once, as he had a thousand times in the last five days, as if forming them on his lips might make them feel more real.

None of this felt real to him yet. He supposed most people had nine months to get used to the idea before seven pounds of screaming chaos turned their lives upside down. He’d had exactly fifty-three days—he’d counted on Tuesday—so he supposed he still had some catching up to do. His mind was still reeling from the conversation that had led them here, and he wasn’t sure yet that he’d ever catch up.

He’d been sitting in this chair and pretending to read reports while mostly thinking about his right knee, which had been bothering him despite Duke Baird’s best efforts. He wasn’t sure why he remembered so specifically, since his days were nearly as certain to contain aches and bruises as they were to contain a sunrise. Buri had returned from a meeting with Thayet and Onua, although really, the word meeting conferred far too much dignity on what was more likely a combination of trick riding and palace gossip. They’d settled into the evening routine they’d shared for nearly a decade, working in comfortable silence with candles lit between them.

“Do you want children?” she’d asked, breaking the quiet spell of paperwork that gripped their nights.

“I think it’s a little late for that,” he’d replied with a snort.

She’d thrown a pillow at him. He had caught it and thrown it back without even looking up from the thick stack of papers in his lap, with a rude hand gesture following behind.

“You know what I meant. Did you want children? Before?”

Something in her voice had shifted. He’d finally looked up to find her eyes already trained on him. Her face had been so unexpectedly earnest that he’d actually taken a pause, had slowed the speed of their consistently paced banter, to think.

“I suppose I hadn’t given it much thought. There were friends, and then there was drinking, and then there was the Own, and then there was you,” he’d told her with a shrug. “I do like children, but I’m perfectly happy where I am.”

She’d chewed on her lip for a moment. He remembered being surprised by that. After nearly thirty years of friendship, she rarely took the time to think before she spoke with him anymore.

“Spit it out.”

“Do you want children?”

“And we’re back to the start,” he’d said with a grin.

“I spat it out. Now you answer it.”

“Hypothetically, sure, I’d enjoy a child. Now can I ask why you’re asking at all?”

“I’ve been thinking,” she’d started. She’d paused for a moment, holding her breath as though she was trying to decide whether she should speak at all. And then she’d let it all spill out at once. “I’ve been thinking it might be nice to have one. A child, I mean.”

She’d held up a hand and made a face before Raoul could even begin to formulate a joke about her monthlies or her aching hips or what they might do to make that happen. “Not like that. Thayet was telling us today about homes they’re opening in Corus, for children without parents. We were thinking about the children we traveled with back in Sarain, when Alanna found us all those years ago. Gods, it was terrifying, having Thayet and an infant to protect, especially when Thayet was ready to throw her life away for the infant. And I started thinking—we have money, and safety, and love, and there are all these children who have none of those things, and—”

She’d been speaking faster and faster, but she’d cut herself off abruptly at the look on Raoul’s face. “Never mind, you can forget—”

Raoul had smiled back at her, straightening up in his chair and marking his spot in the report on his lap before putting it aside. “So you want a child.”

The weeks that followed had been ones filled with paperwork and inquiries at the palace records about the process of appointing a common-born heir to a noble house and at the magistrate’s about drawing up paperwork for adoption. There had been careful planning and hushed discussions with only their closest friends about the best way to proceed. Buri had insisted on an older child, maybe eight or nine, saying that the few diapers she’d changed on the road to Rachia were enough for a lifetime.

Instead, five days ago, Buri had entered their rooms carrying a squalling mess of blankets with an air of forced nonchalance that had told him immediately what she’d done. Instead of clarifying, or teasing her, or asking if it was the smallest eight-year-old he’d ever seen, he’d simply held his arms out. While Buri had supplied endless explanations about Thayet ambushing her with a baby, he’d stared at the squirming mess of baby in his lap, blankets already coming undone, absolutely entranced.

“He’s tiny,” he’d commented. His voice sounded like it was coming from someone else’s body. The baby was only just too large for him to hold in one hand, although he’d never try to prove it. The fragility of the life sitting in his lap was overwhelming.

“His mother died yesterday. Childbed fever, caught too late to help. The priestesses at the Goddess’ Temple were worried he might need more than the homes could give.”

Raoul had nodded, only half listening. The baby’s eyes were screwed shut while he wailed. His fine hair was dark, his skin tanned like that of the Bazhir babies Raoul had seen in his year in the Great Southern Desert. One of the baby’s hands had broken free of its blanket. It had waved in the air, keeping pace with his cries, which were far louder than he’d have believed such a tiny body could produce. He’d intercepted the hand with one finger and then watched in wonder as the baby had grasped it.

“Does he have a name?”

“Pathom,” she’d answered definitively, before belatedly remembering that names were the sort of thing parents might choose together. “That is, if—”

“Pathom of Goldenlake,” he’d cut her off with a smile.

The days that followed had been a blur. Thayet had found a wet-nurse and supplied an endless stream of goods that they’d have never known a baby required. Alanna had ridden in from Pirate’s Swoop at full speed to pronounce in a gruff voice that the infant was in perfect health. Gary had gifted them a bassinet and more blankets than any human child could possibly need. Dom had found a way to convert a standard-issue burnoose into an excellent baby sling, while Evin had given them a congratulatory note from George, who complained that Alanna had left before he could finish writing, and a cheerful promise that he’d never touch a soiled diaper. Onua had given them a set of unimaginably soft stuffed ponies, perfect replicas of the horses that roamed the highlands of Sarain where she and Buri had learned to ride.

Kel, away on business with Second Company at the Gallan border, had to wait almost a full week to learn she had a new godsson. He’d met the company when they’d arrived back at the palace long past dark the night before. They’d groomed Hoshi and Sparrow together while he thanked the gods for perhaps the hundredth time that her “testy pony” had finally found his way out of the Own stables and into a pleasant retirement.

Finally, when the last of the men had trudged towards the barracks and a well-earned nights’ sleep, she’d turned to him.

“Well?”

“There’s someone important I want you to meet,” he’d said, shoving his hands in his pockets with a smile that was equal parts nervous and eager.

“Sir, I’ve already met your wife.”

Raoul had let out a hearty chuckle. “But you haven’t met my son.”

Kel had frozen. Her face fell back into perfect stillness, the way it did when her mind was working its fastest.

After a second that felt like an eternity, she replied, “Sir, I saw Buri five weeks ago. If you’re telling me you’ve managed to grow a baby since then—”

“We didn’t, but someone else did. We adopted him from the Temple after his mother died in childbirth.”

Understanding flashed in Kel’s eyes while her face broke into a rare broad grin. She’d wrapped her arms around him in a fast, tight hug accompanied by enthusiastic congratulations that had gone suddenly silent in surprise when he’d added, a wicked glint in his eyes, “You really should come by tomorrow to meet your godsson.”

Buri had intercepted Kel on the practice courts the following morning with the dual goals of keeping her own skills sharp and ensuring that Kel would not be too polite to visit. And so now, he watched as Kel bounced his son with the brisk certainty of someone who had held a baby a thousand times. He could hear her cooing quietly at Pathom, softening her consonants while she told him all about forest campaigns in hill country. He knew he should ask her to speak up—if she was going to give her report verbally, she could at least give it at a volume he could hear—but he found he wasn’t particularly interested in the intricacies of the Second’s bowstring supplies. Buri made eye contact with him behind Kel’s back, laughter in her eyes. Buri could laugh if she wanted, but he was taking notes on Kel’s tactics. He would have sworn this was the quietest he’d heard his son in the entirety of his hundred-and-twenty-odd hours in the palace.

As his son stared wide-eyed at his former squire, Raoul was reminded of a comment he’d heard as they’d left Turomot’s offices the other day with paperwork making Pathom officially their own. “Well, that feckless Goldenlake dolt’s managed to start a family, even if it was too late to do the thing properly,” the Lord of Genlith had muttered at their backs as they’d left. Buri had elbowed him and whispered a quick “Feckless? I’ll show him feckless,” but her heart wasn’t in it. Before she’d even finished the thought, her eyes were back on Pathom, squirming against her chest in the burnoose that bound him to her.

And now, Raoul watched his son, passed between his wife and the woman who had been like his daughter long before any papers said he was a father. Stuffed Saren ponies lined the shelf above an intricately carved bassinet filled with beautifully embroidered blankets. A protection charm had been pulled from Alanna’s packs to hang at the head, while twin leather circles bearing the insignias of the Riders and the Own, no doubt carefully cut by mischievous commanders from the saddle packs of some unprepared trainees, was secured carefully at the foot. Raoul had to smile for a moment at Genlith’s ignorance—he’d begun his family right on time.

#carrie answers #my writing #anonymous #raoul of goldenlake and malorie's peak #raoul of goldenlake #buriram tourakom #tortall #tamora pierce #protector of the small #keladry of mindelan #okay we've got all the found family shit in here #the friends? check #the surrogate daughter? check #adoption? check #also who said a baby can't have three godsmothers definitely not buri and raoul #also on ao3

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teawaffles · 4 years ago

Text

It Happened One Night: Chapter 1

T/N: Takes place after the Scandal in the British Empire arc (Chapters 17-23 of the manga).

Baker Street was full of people as usual. But in contrast to the hubbub, the entire street was enveloped in a vaguely unnatural, lonely atmosphere.

It looked like it was going to rain. That was what John H Watson thought as he walked down the street, gazing up at the heavily clouded sky.

“We should get back quickly, Sherlock.”

Saying that, he looked at the man beside him — Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock squinted and sniffed the air, as if trying to detect the smell of rain, and agreed with him.

“Right. And I also have some things here I don’t want to get drenched.”

Then Sherlock looked down at the items he was carrying. They each bore a large paper bag, stuffed to the brim with food and other sundry goods.

John furrowed his brows.

“Sherlock, haven’t you bought too many personal items? We’re even more broke than usual, you know,” he reminded.

But Sherlock wasn’t perturbed.

“They might be useless to you, John, but to me these are necessities of life. Please overlook this just once.”

“It’s no use, huh……”

It was better to avoid cigarettes at times like this, but John knew it was pointless to say that — hence instead of going on at length, he just gave a small sigh. Somehow, it felt like the bag in his arms had grown heavier.

As the two men walked on like this, they eventually drew near the flat where they lived. 221B Baker Street. This was the very place from which the great detective Sherlock Holmes, and his assistant, John H Watson, unravelled Britain’s mysteries.

However, they walked past their lodgings, not once slowing down. As they passed by, John glanced toward their flat.

There, remained the scars of appalling destruction. The building itself had retained its original structure, but the flat in which they’d lived had its windows all blown out; from what he could see through them, the walls and ceilings had been scorched to a miserable crisp.

They’d been unexpectedly drawn into the “Scandal of the British Empire” case, in which Sherlock had devised a bold strategy — blowing up their own apartment — in order to save Irene Adler.

They had achieved their goal, but at the cost of losing their home for the time being. As such, Sherlock and John, together with their landlady Miss Hudson, were staying in cheap accommodation a little ways from here until the apartment repairs were complete.

As they headed to their temporary lodgings, John’s shoulders drooped.

“Although all of us had agreed on it, in the end, it’s still tough to see the place you’ve gotten used to living in become like that.”

“Sorry about that. I had no other option back then.”

Sherlock kept his eyes forward as he apologised with sincerity. To that, John smiled gently.

“I don’t really mind — In any case, I’ve been put through many reckless situations like this before……. Oh—”

Right then, a drop of water splashed on his palm. Just as he registered that icy sensation, more raindrops came pouring down.

Sherlock looked at him.

“It arrived earlier than I thought.”

“Yeah, let’s run for it.”

Then, carrying their bags with both arms, the two men half-ran to their hotel.

When they arrived, they shook their heads slightly to rid the water from their hair, then walked past the front desk to their room.

After putting down their bags and opening the door, they found Miss Hudson standing in the doorway.

John tilted his head in confusion.

“Miss Hudson, what brings you here?”

As it would be improper for them to share a room with a lady, the two men chose to rent out a separate room despite the steep cost. Hence, John thought she would be in her own room now — why was she in theirs?

She smiled back awkwardly.

“Mr Mycroft’s here.”

“What?”

Instantly, Sherlock’s face morphed into one of displeasure. Without asking the details, he took up his shopping and walked into the room. Seated on a chair near the wall was his older brother Mycroft, looking out the window.

“……Damn you, Mycroft. Coming all the way to this hotel — what you do want?”

Distinctly uncomfortable dealing with his own elder brother, Sherlock spoke up first, his tone sour. But Mycroft simply turned to look at him, and responded without haste.

“That attitude again as always, Sherly. How about subverting my expectations sometimes and acting like a gentleman for once? Or rather, is it that you’re so frustrated by a case you forgot your manners?”

“Ugh……”

Mycroft looked around the cramped interior as he spoke, and the corners of Sherlock’s mouth twitched as he let out a groan. He didn’t regret blowing up their apartment itself, but hearing Mycroft’s calm, pointed comments forced him to remember his own helplessness back then.

“……Did you come all the way here just to make a fool of me?” he retorted, trying to defend himself. But Mycroft simply shrugged his shoulders in resignation, and got straight to the point.

“If you’re having trouble with accommodation, there’s a country house in the Cotswolds I can introduce you to.”

“……What’s this, all of a sudden?”

Country houses were often built by nobles and wealthy landowners as status symbols on their own land: it was ridiculous to suggest that someone would simply lend theirs out. Sherlock raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“Isn’t it natural for an older brother to want to help his younger sibling in his time of need? Furthermore, although I’m sure they’d agreed to your plan, it pains me to think how Dr Watson and Miss Hudson have been caught up in it.”

“We don’t need your concern. We’ll do what we want, so just get the hell out of here.” Sherlock made a shooing motion with his hand, in a bid to chase Mycroft out, but was soon admonished by John, who’d entered the room afterward. John then calmly turned to Mycroft, seeming eager to listen.

“Do you mean that, you would be willing to lend us an apartment? Thank you very much for your offer — could you tell us more?”

Mycroft was smiling as he nodded.

“Actually, an acquaintance of mine — a noble — intends to stay in London for a week. They’re looking for someone to look after their mansion in the meantime, hence I thought it would align perfectly with your situation, Doctor.”

John nodded in understanding.

“I see. However, if that’s the case, why not ask their employees to stay behind?”

“From what I’d heard, they felt it would be a good opportunity to give their hardworking employees a vacation as well. Although if you aren’t able to accept, Doctor, they did say they would ask some of them to remain in the house……”

“In other words, if we were to take up the offer, then their employees would be able to take a break. Moreover, the three of us would be in charge of the mansion’s upkeep during our stay.”

“Not exactly,” Mycroft clarified, “They said you won’t have to concern yourselves with the maintenance and such. As long as it stays reasonably tidy, you are free to enjoy yourselves while keeping an eye on the house.”

It was a very generous offer, so generous it invited suspicion of an ulterior motive; however, since it came from Mycroft, perhaps it could be trusted. John wanted very much to accept — he couldn’t say he was entirely pleased with their current arrangement — but he knew his partner didn’t view it that simply.

As expected, Sherlock tutted in disapproval.

“This place suits us just fine: I don’t want to live in some boring mansion in the middle of nowhere. Anyway, I wouldn’t be able to take on clients when I’m away.”

Sherlock himself did harbour some guilt at making the two of them endure their present lifestyle, but following his brother’s opinion was simply anathema to him. As such, he couldn’t help but bite back in reply.

John understood that, but admonished him regardless.

“Sherlock, you shouldn’t talk to your own brother like that. Mr Mycroft was just looking out for us when he made that suggestion.”

“Pay no mind, Doctor. He’s been like this for a long time.”

Mycroft gave them a wide smile. Then, he directed a question to Miss Hudson, who had been keeping an eye on them from behind.

“We’ve heard what my little brother thinks, but how about you, Miss Hudson?”

“Eh? A-Ah~……”

Having suddenly been addressed, she responded in a faltering tone.

“Well, um…… To me, I think, it would certainly be helpful.”

In an effort to consider Sherlock’s feelings on the matter, she ended up replying in a roundabout way — but it was clear that she was in favour as well.

Mycroft turned to John.

“How about you, Doctor?”

For a moment, John was at a loss for words, but when he heard the floorboards creaking underneath his feet, he made up his mind. He looked at Sherlock as he nodded slowly.

“I think, that the country house might be more pleasant, compared to our current circumstances. Moreover, we could always receive clients via post.”

“…………”

Both of them had answered in the affirmative. Now, only Sherlock remained.

Despite the apparent obstacles being cleared, he still had his reservations. But eventually, Sherlock looked at the ceiling in resignation.

“Ah, bollocks. It would just be selfish of me to refuse at this point, now wouldn’t it? Alright. Please let us stay at that country house until the apartment is fixed.”

At that reply, Mycroft smiled in satisfaction, and Sherlock turned away to hide his frustration from those eyes.

The three of them drew up some agreements on their new living arrangements, and with that, until the flat at Baker Street was fixed, they would proceed to stay at a noble’s mansion out in the country.

Footnotes:

[1] The Cotswolds is a large hilly area to the northwest of London, further than Oxford and dotted with villages. (Wikipedia)

T/N: After the angst from the last story, I just remembered how much I love the Baker Street gang 😉

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #forbidden games

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years ago

Text

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 6

Haha, I’m so excited for this chapter. Please let me know what y’all think! Also a huge thank you to everyone who has liked/commented/reblogged. You guys deserve all the love and cookies possible!

Warnings: swearing, fluff (i think that’s it, sorry if i miss something)

Words: 7300 (i feel like my chapters keep getting longer. oops?)

Tag List: @heavenly1927 @youbloodymadgenius @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls

Series Masterlist

The aroma of coffee surrounded Kari like a warm, comforting blanket. The café was just the perfect amount of busy, there were a few other tables occupied but without feeling cramped or overwhelming. The lunch rush was just beginning, indicated by the number of patrons standing in line to order now.

The brunette sipped on her latte as she slowly swiped through the pictures on Gyda's phone. The two were finally meeting up for an early lunch and coffee after a yoga class. Gyda had been gushing about the trip she just returned from to Phnom Penh, telling stories of the week she spent there and letting Kari slide through the pictures on her phone.

"These are just gorgeous. Gods, you have the best job, I swear."

Gyda laughed, picking at the muffin in front of her. "I know. I can't imagine doing anything else though."

"When do you leave again?"

"Mmmm…. I’m not sure yet. The company is wanting me to go to Vancouver, British Columbia next. I might wait until the end of September to go. I'm not sure. Either way, it won't be for at least a month. Depends on how soon I want to go visit mom."

"Why wouldn't you want to go soon?" Kari perked up at the mention of Gyda's mother. She knew the two were close, but all she really knew about Lagertha was from what Ivar told her.

"I'm not a fan of her new boyfriend. Sorry, she prefers the term "lover". Kalf works for her, specifically with contacts from their Mediterranean partners and overseeing some of the shipments."

"Why don't you like him?" She swiped to the next image, a stunning picture of the Cambodian royal palace.

The blonde waved her hand vaguely, as if swatting a fly. "He hasn't done anything; I just don't like him."

"That's fair. Does he treat your mom well?"

"Yeah. She just has shit luck with men and I'm worried how this one will turn out." She sipped on her coffee, gazing out the nearby window for a moment.

Kari turned back to the phone, guessing there was more that Gyda was not saying. Not that she needed to know. No, she had enough drama in her life currently and his name was Ivar.

Both women lounged in the wooden café chairs, still in their yoga clothes, having come straight from the studio. Except Gyda changed her footwear, losing the sandals for a pair of wedge heels that made her long legs look like skyscrapers. It was hard not to envy Gyda's body, and Torvi for that matter. They both had the perfect hourglass figure, with all the right assets and gorgeously braided, blonde hair. Maybe it was some standard that women around the Lothbroks had perfect bodies. It made Kari wonder why Ivar paid her any attention then. Her body was far from perfect. Her chest side was decent, but she always thought her hips and thighs were too large. Most likely leftover critiques from her mother who not-so-lovingly would say Kari was pear-shaped and needed to focus on losing all that extra or no man would want her. Not that she was trying to get a man. Over the past two years she had finally come to embrace her body and was learning to be comfortable in her own skin. Though some days were better than others. It was still difficult to watch Gyda receive appreciative looks from many of the patrons as they passed by their table and know none of them would even give her a second glance. The blonde was effortlessly beautiful. Perhaps there was a way for her to teach Kari that.

Suddenly Gyda zeroed in on the brunette with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Speaking about men…."

"Are you going on a date?"

Gyda snorted, with an amused grin on her face. "Hell no. I'm not interested in a relationship right now. I am perfectly fine being single. Stop changing the subject. There is a little something going around the Lothbrok rumor mill that Ivar took you on a date to Casa mia, Maggiore."

"Not a date, it was just as friends." Kari clarified.

She gave her an incredulous look. "Just friends?"

"Yes."

Gyda narrowed her eyes at her.

"What? We went out to Casa mia, Maggiore and then I convinced him to go to Masterpiece. After he dropped me back off at home. Nothing happened."

"Right…." Gyda hummed. "So, it was a date."

Kari dropped her face into her hands with a groan. "Not a date. Just friends."

"Whatever you say. Just know Ivar doesn't take just anyone to his favorite restaurant. Hell, I think he only took his ex there once in the ten months they were dating. He usually only goes with Aslaug."

"Oh? Um, I didn't know…" The brunette hated how she perked up at this new information. It should not matter hearing that he never took anyone, that it really was his favorite restaurant and he wanted to share it with her. In their texting, he made reference to when they went back, what food he wanted her to try next. Something apparently, he was not even inclined to do with an ex. No, none of that should matter. But it did, and the way her heart swelled at the realization only proved that to her.

"Clearly he really likes you to take you there. Do you like him?"

"Sure, he's a good friend."

Gyda sighed dramatically, tipping her head back. "You're killing me, Kari! Fine! When was this not-date? A week ago?"

"Eight days, yeah."

"Have you hung out since then?"

"Yeah, he picked me up once and we went out for dinner. Another time, he took me out on my lunch break. He had to go on a business trip so I haven't seen him in…. three days?"

"Right. I'm guessing he's blowing up your phone while he's been gone?"

Kari took a sip of her drink as she mumbled, "sort of." The truth was they were practically texting non-stop. It was mostly discussions, and arguments on his side, of superficial things like TV shows, the proper time to wake up in the morning and her lack of clothing that was more than yoga attire. Other times they sent memes back and forth or links to funny YouTube clips. Kari never realized how lonely she was before Ivar thrust himself into her life with all the force and subtlety of a rocket.

"What does that mean?" Gyda eyed her for a long moment before she gasped and slapped the table. "Oh shit! Is he sending you dick pics?"

Kari choked on air. After hacking for a couple of seconds, tears coming to her eyes because of the action, she vigorously shook her head. "No! No! Ewww....no! We keep sending stupid memes to each other and talking about where we should go out next. That's it. I promise."

The blonde laughed loudly at Kari's reaction, who fiddled with her earring, face burning with embarrassment. The two sat quietly for a couple of minutes, sipping their drinks and watching the line of lunch patrons increase.

"So…. it kind of sounds like you're dating."

"No, we're just friends. Why can't friends just hang out?" Kari tried to argue. The beginning tendrils of annoyance creeping in at constantly having to defend their friendship.

Gyda stared at her. "Have you made-out?"

A blush colored Kari's cheeks before she could figure out a good enough lie, giving away the truth.

"What?! How often?!" Her enthusiastic friend cried, before waving her hand once again. "Never mind. Listen, he's taking you out to his favorite restaurant. He is clearly going out of his way to spend time with you. He is texting you! You don't realize how big of a deal this is for him! He generally hates people. I'm positive he has murder plans for most of those he is forced to be around. Does he know you're just friends? Because to me, it doesn't sound like it."

Kari covered her face with her hands, tears of frustration springing to her eyes. Ivar and her could only be friends, that was what she promised herself. If he knew her, the real her…. it would never happen. He would never want her. So it was best to remain friends, to protect both of them from the inevitability that anything more would never happen. Even though their line of friendship was blurring…. and that was the worst part. She found herself wishing to continue to blur that line, even when she knew it would only end in disaster. Taking a deep breath, she could smell his cologne, a scent she had become so used to now. Her mind could easily conjure the feeling of being in his arms, his mouth on hers as she gave in under his touch. She cared for him, deep down she knew more than a friend. Although he could annoy her to no end, she enjoyed his presence, his humor, that vulnerable side that peeked out occasionally, how he made her feel safe and beautiful.

Now hearing Gyda pointedly telling her that Ivar was treating her as more than a friend. It left her speechless and wondering if she was making a mistake.

Gyda’s tone softened when she spoke next. "Why are you so set on just friends?"

"I just…. I don't want to date right now. After my last relationship, I just want to focus on myself."

"That's fair but listen, he isn't going to wait around for you forever."

"I know. I don't want him too." She admitted, tugging on her earring. Though her statement was the truth, it still tasted bitter on her tongue.

"Ok, but does he know that? It sounds like he’s set on you, but I'm going to warn you. Don't break his heart. He isn't the type to recover from heartbreak. His heart is already locked up more securely than Fort Knox but if you break it…."

"I promise, that isn't my intent. I just…. can't. I like him, more than I thought I would. He is funny and charming and sweet but also infuriating and demanding and I've had more fun with him than I've ever had with a guy friend before. He…. I can be myself around him and I think he can too. But I just…. It can't go further than friendship."

Gyda mulled over her words. "Alright. I don't fully understand but I get it. It's nice to hear that he's connecting with someone. None of us liked his ex. He only really spends time with family or Floki."

"I don't want to hurt him." Kari whispered.

"I know. You're too sweet to purposefully do something like that." The blonde tilted her head to the side with a slowly growing smug look. "I give it until the end of the year and you'll be naked in his bed."

"Gods! What? Why would you say that?"

"He's a Lothbrok. They always get what they want."

*****

Kari laid curled up on her full-size bed, her laptop up and watching Downton Abbey. A heating pad rested on her abdomen as she waited for the pain relievers to kick in. Most of her life she was happy with, but the one thing she would easily trade out would be the painful cramps when PMSing. The birth control she took helped out, but there was usually still one day that the dreaded cramps hit hard.

Her phone dinged. Languidly reaching over, she grabbed it from beside her pillow and opened it to check the text.

Ivar: wat r u doin?

He texted her earlier that day saying he was returning home from his sudden business trip.

Kari: nothing

Ivar: good. bts.

She groaned, slamming her face into her pillow. She did not have the energy to deal with him right now. All she wanted was to relax and eat her body weight in chocolate. After a moment of self-pity, she texted him back, hoping she could get out of whatever he had planned already.

Kari: no, I don't feel good.

Ivar: wat wrong?

Kari: nothing bad.

Sure, they had been talking daily for over a week but that did not mean she wanted to divulge her period issues to him. There were a few things she knew and one was that guys did not like talking about the menstrual cycle.

When he did not text back right away, she turned her attention back to her laptop and the TV show playing. Soon enough the magic of pain relievers and hot pads kicked in and her pain was minimal, though she had no intentions of leaving her warm cocoon. Alana was at her night class, so Kari was home alone. Not unusual really, but tonight she certainly felt the urge to lay around and do nothing.

After about twenty minutes, she heard a loud knock on her front door. Alana was not home, so it could not be any of her friends. Her neighbor, Erik, never just showed up. He always made sure to text before coming to her door. Maybe there was some kind of emergency? Or a package being dropped off? Though at this time it was certainly getting late for any kind of deliveries. Then it hit her.

Ivar.

"Ughhhh," she groaned, rolling out of her bed. For a split second she contemplated not answering it, just staying in her warm bed. She knew, though, if she did not get it, he would probably bust the door down. Maybe even set it on fire to make a point. He seemed like the type to light things on fire for fun.

As soon as she opened the front door, those intense blue eyes scanned over her body as if looking for some unseen disease. "What's wrong with you?" He barked at her, one hand still on the doorframe.

"What?" She blinked owlishly.

"You said you don't feel good." He gestured towards her, his gaze still searching. "What's wrong?"

"Um, it's nothing. Just cramps. It's better now."

"You sure? It's nothing worse?"

She was touched by his concern, the way his last questions were said in a breath of relief as if actually worried about her health. "Yeah, happens every month. I'm fine."

"Ok, good. Get changed, Hvitty and I are going to see a movie. I want you to come with us."

"Ivar, you should hang out with your brother…."

"I fucking live with him. He's fine with it. Go change."

She sighed, knowing by now there was no way she was making it back to her warm cocoon and Downton Abbey. Besides, she had missed him while he was gone and found herself wanting to spend time with him. Not that she wanted him to know that, it would only inflate his ego. "I'll only agree to come with you on two conditions."

"Fucking what?" He growled, though she could see the amusement in his eyes.

"First, I'm wearing my comfy clothes." She waved her hand at the pair of soft, black leggings she wore and the thin, slouchy sweater with the word 'beautiful' printed on it. "Second, and this is the most important condition, you have to buy me a stupid amount of chocolate."

He rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged on his lips. "If that's all, princess…."

"Oh, give me a minute. I'll think of something else… and it's not princess. It's m'lady."

"Shut up. Get your shit. I'll meet you at the car."

She laughed as she raced up to her room to grab her purse, not even bothering to change out of her clothes. The only addition was to throw on a zip up jacket that was a size too big on her. She always found movie theaters too cold to be fully comfortable without a jacket.

The vehicle waiting for her this time was a luxury SUV. She stopped for a moment in the driveway, unsure what to do. She wondered what the neighbors would think of her getting picked up in this and how many knew Lothbroks were sitting in it. Hopefully no one was paying attention. The one of the back doors opened so she headed that way. Ivar slid over and she followed him into the vehicle, closing the door behind her.

"Took you fucking long enough, m'lady."

She smirked at the nickname. "Well, you did just show up at my door and told me we were going to see a movie. At least the other times you gave me a heads up to be ready."

"Ivar, you said you text her we were coming." A man she had not noticed said. He sat across on the bench seat facing them, watching her curiously. It was now Kari noticed how both Ivar and the guy were dressed casually, both in jeans and t-shirts, though Ivar had a light jacket on also.

"She said she wasn't doing anything."

The flaxen-haired man sighed, before reaching his hand out. "Hi, I'm Hvitserk. This idiot's older brother."

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Kari." She took his hand, but instead of shaking it like she expected, he turned it over and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her hand. When he released it, he gave her a quick, flirty wink and leaned back in his seat.

Startled by his bold action, she looked at Ivar, unsure how to respond. What was with these Lothbroks and their unabashed flirting?

He had his eyes narrowed at his brother, teeth practically grinding. "Fucking touch her again." He snarled.

Hvitserk chuckled, a smug look on his boyish face. "Relax, brother. I know you don't share…. even if you're just friends." Either he was purposefully antagonizing his younger brother or did not notice the anger seething off of him.

Ivar started to lean forward but Kari wrapped her arms around his, pulling him into her. She was not about to watch a fight go down between the two. "Didn't you just get back from your trip? I thought you'd be home resting." She quickly asked, trying to distract.

After a long moment of the brothers staring at each other, Ivar with a glare and Hvitserk looking amused, the raven-haired brother leaned back. He turned his head to look at her as he answered. "You said you wanted to see me earlier, and going to see a movie isn't strenuous."

"Everything involving you is strenuous."

As soon as she muttered the words, she wished she could take them back.

A devilish grin spread across his face, those blue eyes dancing with something mischievous and forbidden. "I can show you strenuous." He shifted to hover over her, lips dangerously close to hers. "All. Night. Long." He whispered, one hand leaving a trail of fire as it slid from her thigh up to the curve of her breast. A shiver ran down her spine at the low, hungry tone and the naked want in his gaze. "You'll be begging for more of me…. to destroy that pussy and leave you completely undone and hoarse from screaming my name." His tongue flicked at her earlobe, a choked gasp leaving her mouth at the sensation. Her eyes fluttered shut on their own accord, the knot in her core tightening painfully. She both hated and loved what his touch did to her, how it gave her a taste of pleasure otherwise unknown. His nose traced her jawline as he spoke again, tone filthy, making her core ache. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, kattungen?"

She gulped, her voice coming out far more timid and needy than she wanted. "That's...um, that's nice."

Hvitserk's laughter broke the smoldering tension. Her blue-green eyes blinked rapidly as if wakening from a dream, darting to stare at the older brother before returning to the one who still lingered over her, his presence alone keeping her pinned to her seat.

"En dag, søte Kari, blir du min." Ivar whispered into her ear, then kissed her temple tenderly. After he leaned back, legs splayed out and arms across the back of the seat. A rapid conversation in that foreign language started, Hvitserk saying something that had Ivar snarking back and rolling his eyes.

The whole time, Kari focused on slowing down her breathing and trying to tamper down the warmth radiating from her core. There was no denying it, Ivar did something to her on a primal level. Her body wanted him. Even her mind wanted him. When he directed that sensual, seductive side at her, she melted like an ice cube in June. Her panties were testimony to that. Thankfully, he did not turn that powerful ability onto her frequently. She doubted they would remain 'just friends' for long if he did.

Suddenly, Ivar tugged on the sleeve of her fleece jacket, drawing her from her thoughts. "What is that?"

"Um… a jacket?"

He hummed then glanced over at his brother. "Sigurd had the same one, doesn't he, Hvitty?"

"I think so." Hvitserk ran a hand over his braids, a smile on his lips. "Didn't you set it on fire?"

Ivar waved off the question, still scrutinizing her jacket. "Whose is it?"

"Mine now." She replied, wondering what he was getting at.

"Whose was it?"

"A guy friend. He lent it to me years ago and I never gave it back."

"He's in England?"

"Yeah…"

He grunted, rubbing a hand over his mouth for a moment. "Take it off."

"Wha…. what?" She sputtered.

"Take it off. I don't want you wearing another guy's clothes."

"Ivar, this is stupid. Plus, I always get cold in movie theaters. That's why I brought it in the first place."

With a deep scowl, he tugged off his own gray, soft shell jacket. When he saw she was not moving, he tugged on her sleeve roughly. She huffed but gave in, not willing to fight him over something so childish. She slipped the fleece jacket off and placed it in her lap. Before she could stop him, Ivar snatched the jacket out of her lap and threw it on the seat to his other side. He dropped his jacket in her lap then leaned back, watching her with a serious expression. This was one of those times she wondered why she put up with him. Who cared where the origins of her clothes came from? It was comfy. Sure, it had some sentimental value but it was a nice, warm jacket.

Quickly, she slipped his gray jacket on…. and was immediately hit with his scent. A salacious side of her wondered if he would let her keep it. He always smelled incredible and having his jacket now wrapped around her, enveloping her in that…. her libido definitely woke up, begging for attention. Especially after the tease he just bestowed upon her.

"Happy?" She asked flippantly, smoothing the gray jacket down over her and trying not to be obvious with her sniffing it.

He grinned. "You look better in my clothes."

"Ugh. Is he always like this?" She turned to Hvitserk.

"I wouldn't know. He's never asked me to take my clothes off. But if you did, I'd happily oblige." He playfully winked at her.

She groaned. "You both are unbelievable. No wonder you're brothers." She looked at Ivar beside her. "Can I have my jacket back?"

He raised a single eyebrow as if surprised by her question. After a second of mutual staring, he slid over and opened the window, maintaining pointed eye contact the whole time. Before she could process what he was going to do, he balled up her jacket and threw it out the open window. Without a word, he rolled the window back up and slid over to her side again.

"What jacket?" He questioned impishly.

She stared open-mouthed at him. "Was…. was that really necessary? Gods! Why did you do that?"

"I don't want you wearing another guy's clothes." He shrugged. "If it's that big of a problem, I'll buy you some new clothes."

"That's not…. that's not the point! You can't just get rid of something of mine without my permission!"

"But it wasn't yours, it was some guy friend's."

She covered my face with her hands. Why should she expect anything different from Ivar? He had a vendetta against her clothes. With a sigh, she scooted away from him. "I feel like we need to make a list of things that are not ok for you to do."

"I'm not following some fucking list."

"Alright, I'll stop wearing clothes that belong to someone else if you promise not to throw away my clothes without my permission."

He yanked on her arm until she was at his side again, despite her half-hearted attempt for space. "You can wear my clothes anytime, especially if I can take them off of you."

"Ivar, I'm serious."

He nuzzled the crook of her neck, making her squirm. Sweetly, he pressed a kiss to her neck before leaning back. "Fine." He muttered, tucking her into his side.

She glanced over at Hvitserk, having momentarily forgotten his presence. A broad smile covered his face, highlighting his handsome features.

"I like her." He declared, meeting his brother's eye with a nod. Next he looked at her, cocking his head to the side. "What are you doing with his sorry ass?"

That earned a low growl from the youngest Lothbrok, causing Kari to jump faintly and Hvitserk's smile to grow.

"Well, I didn't have much of a choice. He showed up at my work the first time." She answered honestly, though she mostly did it to tease Ivar.

Hvitserk threw his head back with a groan before narrowing his eyes at his brother. "I told you not to stalk her!"

"What the fuck is this? Gang up on Ivar day? She wouldn't have gone out with me otherwise and afterward she said she had fun, so it's not a big deal."

Hvitserk's brown eyes met her blue-green ones with true sympathy in them. "I'm sorry, Kari. I would say he isn't normally like this but I'm guessing you know that's a damn lie by now."

She giggled, "Yeah, I do. Thank you though."

"You know, we could always ditch him and go to the movie just us."

"Oh yeah?" She tapped her chin, pretending to think the offer over. "That sounds like fun. Ivar did promise to buy me a stupid amount of chocolate though. It'd be a hard sell to pass that offer up."

"I'm sure I can come up with something." He wiggled his blond eyebrows, smiling again.

"Shut the fuck up, both of you."

Kari laughed at the look on Ivar's face. Peering up at him, she changed the subject. "What movie are we seeing?"

"Ask your new friend over there."

"Come on, Ivy. You know we're just fucking with you." Hvitserk sighed.

Ivar grumbled, looking out the window and ignoring both of them.

Hvitserk answered her question. "That new horror movie."

"Oh ok." She hoped she sounded confident but kind of wished she had known before coming. Horror movies were not her thing. As a child, she had watched 'IT' at a sleepover and decided then that purposefully being scared was something she could do without. Though knowing Ivar, he would have laughed and pushed her out the door, saying something about how she needed to watch better shit than she normally did. Maybe this one would be more action-based than real horror. She could only hope.

Thankfully, they pulled up at the movie theater soon after. The driver dropped the three off at the door, driving off after to go park and wait.

"Ivar, hold on." She tugged on his arm, forcing him to slow his steps instead of walking ahead of the other two. "Give us a minute, Hvitserk."

The blond brother gave her a quick nod. "I'll go buy some snacks."

After he walked away, she tried to meet Ivar's gaze, though he pointedly stared over her shoulder. "Hey, we're just teasing. I'm sorry if we pushed it too far. I'm really happy you asked me to come out with you and your brother. It's been years since I've gone out to the movies."

He remained stubbornly sullen, continuing to stare just over her shoulder as if her presence was a nuisance.

With a sigh, she shifted closer, taking the initiative to wrap her arms loosely around his waist. Something she had noticed during the times they had hung out was he liked touching her, not always sexually, but just casual, intimate touches. A stray thought of him being touch-starved crossed her mind.

"I also really like your jacket, it's soft and it smells like you." She softly said, peeking up at him, suddenly nervous about her forwardness.

"Yeah?" He breathed out, placing his arms around her and tugging her closer. In just that movement, she could feel the hostility drain out of him, the hard tension in his muscles easing away into a softness she was beginning to doubt many people were allowed to see.

"Since you threw my other one away, can I keep this one?" She teased, lips curling up at the edges. If he said no, she was inclined to steal it anyway. For emotional damages, of course, not because it smelled good.

"Fuck, yes, kitten." He nuzzled her neck, making her squirm in his arms and giggle at the sensation. After a moment, still chuckling, he kissed her neck then laid his forehead against hers. When he spoke, it was with a quiet hint of vulnerability, his voice just above a murmur. "You really are happy to be out with me?"

"I am." She confirmed with eyes closed, soaking in the heat from his body against hers. This moment felt so strangely intimate that she struggled between prolonging it or tearing herself away. It was in these touches, she found her resolve wavering, a longing rising within her to give in. His arms around her, just holding her, their foreheads pressed together as if grounding one another. It was euphoric and dangerous.

He broke the silence between them, tone muffled as if regretting speaking up. "We should go in; the movie is going to start soon."

"Ok. Hvitserk will probably come looking for us if we don't."

"Ah, fuck. He will."

They untangled, but as she moved to step away, he snaked his arm around her waist, tugging her next to him. When she glanced up at him, he only looked down at her in wide-eyed, mock innocence. She rolled her eyes but giggled. He was like a puppy afraid to let go of his new toy.

As they started towards the doors, she finally paid more attention to his gait. Each step was stiff but powerful. One more than one occasion she ogled him and his swagger that seemed to scream predator, a dark and deadly thing meanwhile also being so enticing. She wondered how he managed so well without his cane but decided not to bring it up.

Once they passed through the door, Ivar slowed down, pulling his phone from his pocket.

"Shit. I've got to take this. Go wait with Hvitty. Oh, here." He pulled out his wallet and handed her his credit card. "Go buy all that chocolate I promised you and drinks for us."

Normally she would protest, saying she could buy her own stuff. This time she had full intentions of spending his money on chocolate. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"Are you on the menu?"

"Gods, unbelievable!" She laughed though, watching him smile genuinely. After an arrogant wink, he stepped away, bringing his phone to his ear and speaking rapidly in a foreign language. She scurried over to Hvitserk, who stood near the confessions counter.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah," she glanced over her shoulder at Ivar quickly, "he just got a phone call he said he had to take."

Hvitserk hummed, watching Ivar across the lobby with a peculiar expression.

While they waited, she ordered her snacks and the drinks for both of them. Though her doubts rapidly spun out of control as she realized she did not know what Ivar would like or want. With a pleading look thrown at him, Hvitserk gave in with a chuckle. Together they picked out snacks and drinks that would have the youngest Lothbrok's approval. Once done, they gathered their stuff and moved over to an open, standing table to continue waiting.

"While Ivar is busy, I wanted to talk to you."

"Ah, sure." She felt a tendril of dread grow in her belly. Nothing good ever came out of a conversation with such an inauspicious beginning.

"I know Ivar can be a lot, closer to fucking insane, and not many people can tolerate him." He looked down at her with brown eyes that seemed to see more than they let on. "But you're good for him. You don't take his bullshit. Fuck, he even listens to you. I could count on one hand how many people Ivar actually listens to. What makes you different?"

"I don't know. I'm just…. I don't know." She stared down at her chipped, teal fingernails, unable to meet his eyes now.

"Well whatever you are, we've already noticed a difference since you two started talking. He's not as angry, he doesn't just hole up in his room as often."

"That's good."

"Mmmm…. Ivar is my brother and I love him. But I also know his temper can get the better of him and when he is on a rampage, nothing can fucking stop him. He is easily jealous and possessive of things he deems his own…. and he clearly had staked a claim on you."

"But…. we're just friends."

"Not to him." He huffed, running a hand over his braids. After checking to make sure his brother was still on the phone, he continued, lowering his voice even more. "You seem like a nice girl so I'll only say this once. Be careful of what promises you make to him…. and if he ever does something to harm you or scare you, I want you to call me. I'll do what I can to protect you. Alright?"

She nodded, unnerved by his warning. Sure, she knew about the Lothbrok reputation. Yet this was the first time someone point blank warned her with true understanding. She was unsure if she should appreciate the warning or be terrified that he thought Ivar could hurt her.

"Give me your phone."

Silently, she handed it over. He plugged his number in and called himself. With a satisfied nod, he gave it back to her.

"Good, don't ever hesitate to call me. Besides, if my brother has his way, none of us would ever meet you. My other brothers want to meet the girl who has Ivar wrapped around her finger already." He winked at her, making her blush.

"Hvitty, stop flirting with her!"

The flaxen-haired brother grinned, as he watched his brother approach. "I'm not. Just telling her the others want to meet her."

"Fuck no." Ivar growled, coming to stand between the two.

"I'd love to meet your brothers." She commented lightly. "After hearing you talk about them, it'd be nice."

"Awww, Ivy, you talk about us?" Hvitserk teased, nudged his shoulder with his own.

"Not you, asshole."

Hvitserk laughed, pressing his forehead swiftly to Ivar's. "Come on, the movie has probably started."

Ivar and Kari followed behind Hvitserk, as he led them to the correct auditorium. Along the way, she handed Ivar a couple of the boxes of candy she bought and the drink picked out for him.

"How much fucking candy did you buy?" He grumbled, eyeing the boxes suspiciously.

"Enough. If you ask nicely, I might share." She quipped. "I even bought Heksehyl for both of us. Hvitserk said it's your favorite…. and I also got Dumle. Oh, and Guld Barre!"

"I did promise you chocolate."

She giggled. "Yes, you did."

The three of them found the auditorium and took seats off to the side. Ivar sat in the middle with Kari on his right and Hvitserk on his left. The movie had just started as they sat down, the lights and noise minimal. Though apprehensive about the movie, Kari found herself smiling at just the nostalgic feeling being here evoked. There was something so simple yet profound at being with friends, eating sweets and watching the silver screen. Let alone the darkness of the theater and the nearby munching of popcorn by others and the occasion sound of people talking. She missed this. So, she endowed to enjoy every part of this. Quietly eating her chocolates, she kept her gaze on the screen.

After some time, Kari felt a large hand on her upper thigh, inching slowly higher and higher. Jolting at the sudden feeling, she grabbed it, trying to stop its further ascent. Immediately, Ivar flipped his hand over and entwined their fingers. She tried to half-heartedly tug out of it, but he maintained a vice-like grip on her hand. In an attempt to glare at him, she swiveled in her seat to gain his attention. Only for him to remain solely focused on the screen. Rolling her eyes, she gave in, shifting back to continue watching the movie. Their fingers remained entangled.

Eventually, the chocolate lay forgotten in her lap as the images on the screen became more disturbing and graphic. A few chuckles came from Ivar and Hvitserk and whispered comments made between them. Once someone in the theater screamed as a person on the screen was suddenly killed. The abrupt sound made Kari jump, squeezing Ivar's hand. He laughed, but squeezed her hand back. Not long after, she gave up on watching the movie and just tucked her face against his shoulder. Horror movies were never her thing, the idea of purposefully being scared never appealed to her. And this movie had a thing for people being eaten alive. Not something she wanted imprinted into her brain. The thought crossed her mind that Ivar orchestrated this on purpose, since he seemed to be fully enjoying her cuddling into him. As if without concern, his head lay on top of hers, continuing to hold her hand. If she was not so concerned about having nightmares and trying to block out the hair-raising screams, she might have liked the cuddling. In this instance though, if he moved, she was going to punch him.

Once the movie ended, Ivar and Hvitserk argued about the movie- how some of the people should have died or about the graphics of the terrifying creatures. They both became more and more animated as the three of them walked out of the movie theater and towards the waiting SUV.

"What did you think, Kari?" Hvitserk asked, taking his seat across from the others, once they all piled in.

"She was scared." Ivar answered, leaning back, his arm on the back of the seat and behind her.

"That creature was eating that girl's brain while she was still alive! I did not want to see that! I'm going to have nightmares."

Smirking, Ivar tilted closer, invading her personal space. "Want me to stay with you? I'll keep you safe…. and make sure you dream of other more, pleasurable, things."

"No, you'd probably try to scare me on purpose." She accused, pushing his body away from her with a pout.

"Well, thanks for seeing it with us." Hvitserk spoke up. "Gods, Bjorn would love it. We'll have to tell him."

The youngest brother nodded before turning back to the brunette by his side. "You coming out with us for drinks now? We always get drinks after."

"No, I can't. I have to open tomorrow. I need to sleep."

"Come on, it'll be fine."

"No. I'll be getting up at 5:30. That's in like…. six hours." This was one thing she was not going to give into. He had dragged her from her bed already once tonight. He was not about to make her lose out on anymore sleep. Not everyone was able to sleep all morning like certain people.

"Next time," Hvitserk said with a shrug, a grin on his face as if amused by the interaction across from him. "I'm sure we can all go out again soon. Right, Ivy?"

Ivar snorted, "Fine. We'll drop you off."

A discussion about the movie and comparing it to others swiftly captured the two brothers' attention. Finding herself growing tired, Kari just leaned back and listened, her head resting on the back of the seat, and consequently, Ivar's arm. It was different and refreshing seeing him interact with someone he clearly trusted and cared about. His guard was down and even if some of his comments sounded more like sharp barbs, it was said without true malice. The flaxen-haired brother took each verbal jab like water off a duck's back, either making a joke out of the comment or ignoring it. Throughout the interaction, the care and respect for one another was evident, even if on the surface level it appeared dysfunctional. A smile hinted on her lips as she listened to the brothers. She hoped this was not the last time she spent time with Hvitserk. Though his warning still rang in the back of her mind, she liked him. The whole ride back, Ivar kept his arm behind her, sporadically playing with the ends of her hair.

At their arrival to her townhouse, Hvitserk said his goodbye to her in the vehicle, surprising her with a swift hug and peck on the cheek. Her face must have been quite flushed if his laughter after meant anything. Ivar grumbled something at his brother in their foreign language as he pulled her out of the SUV. To her further surprise, Ivar walked her to her front door instead of staying with his brother.

"Thanks for inviting me out." She said honestly, once they reached the door.

"Next time we'll watch something you enjoy."

Before she could second guess herself, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him. Instantly, his arms went around her, pulling her closer. While the hug at the movie theater was sweet and intimate, this hug carried a different tone. It was more urgent and passionate. Her face rested on his collarbone, allowing his scent to envelope her. He laid a soft kiss to the top of her head, resting his chin there after. For a split second, she realized she never wanted to leave this moment. To be safe and warm and comforted and wanted. It was all she had ever hoped for. This was dangerous water they treaded in. With each intimate action, she could feel their friendship sailing closer and closer to the waters of something more. The gentle, easy waters of friendship would not be enough to maintain them.

With that thought in mind, she regretfully pulled back. "Goodnight." She murmured.

"God natt, kattunge."

"One of these days, you have to tell me what you're saying."

A devious smirk grew on his lips. "No, I think I like you being in suspense."

She laughed, shaking her head. They both hesitated to move, the air tense with something, as if both were waiting for the other to say or do something.

"Ok, bye." She finally said, opening her front door.

He nodded, taking a step back without removing his heated gaze off of her.

Shuddering at the feeling of his smoldering gaze, she let herself into the townhouse and made sure to lock the door behind her. Releasing a deep breath, she leaned her back against the door. What was it about him that tempted her so? He was bad news for her. Yet the more time she spent with him, the more she craved being with him.

Glancing down, she stared at his soft, gray jacket she still wore and wondered how symbolic this unintended action was.

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missskzbiased · 4 years ago

Text

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (18)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader X Han X OC

WC: ~ 4,4K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness

Notes: If anyone got the notification, please tell me 😭 If you guys want to get notifications (hopefully) please go here

Updates: Tuesdays

////

There were a lot of rumors going on right now.

You prided yourself on not being the type to care about rumors and things like this but being in the center of so many of those in the last few days made it impossible for you to not be at least curious. The whispers had been obvious for a while now ─ particularly after Paris’ performance ─ and you couldn’t help but wonder how people could have so much free time in their hands and use it like that.

You should have known, though.

It was more than obvious that befriending Chan and Hyunjin would put you in the spotlight and it was bound to lead to dumb rumors at some point. You just didn’t expect them to be so dumb. Although you must have heard about hundreds of versions up to now, the core of all of them was pretty simple to catch: Love affairs and intrigue. That was what those incredible undergraduate brains could do with all of their loose imagination and wisdom.

You could kinda grasp why people thought you were dating Chan. You really could. You were pretty close with each other so it was logical for people to misunderstand your relationship… The thing is that you had been like this with Chan for ages now and no one ever had commented anything about it ─ at least not to this extent ─ so the real question here was pretty simple: Why now?

“Hey” You lifted your eyes from the counter, meeting Hyunjin’s ones “Daydreaming at work?” He chuckled, leaning on the surface as he rested his face on his hand, studying you closely.

Well… Then there was that too.

Not only you were dating Chan but you were also cheating on him with Hyunjin… So maybe you could understand why people thought you were with Chan but where did this come from? It didn’t make any sense. First of all, they’re best friends living together! How the hell would you two-time Chan right under his roof with his best friend?! Second of all, you didn’t give away any hint on feeling something for Hyunjin! And he didn’t show anything similar for you either!

No. Fucking. Sense.

“Yeah…” You agreed mindlessly, mimicking his position to stare into his eyes “What about you? Why are you here?” You asked curiously, tilting your head as he smiled fondly at you; face too close for you to completely catch his shrug.

“Can’t I drop by to see a friend?” He asked in a teasing tone “I should just have gone to see Paris… She treats me way better than you” He joked; hand reaching to fix a strand behind your ear “I should know you were just going after my body…” He sighed mockingly, chuckling as you rolled your eyes and tried to get away from his touch.

“Stop it” You hissed “You know people are talking about us!” You frowned, getting a laugh as an answer. He leaned even closer, prompting you to lean back, trying to get more space between the both of you “You might like being the center of the attention but I don’t, Hyunjin” You mumbled, pushing him lightly so he would take a step back.

“I didn’t think you were the type to care about what people thought about you” He pointed out, leaning back anyway “What are you worrying about? Do you think Chan will misunderstand us?” You weren’t really sure but his tone sounded a little bitter right there, and you couldn’t help but narrow your eyes.

There was something wrong with Hyunjin these days…

You were under the impression that he had been the target of those kinds of rumors throughout all his life and yet he was acting weirdly. Although he was quite playful about it ─ and by playful you meant flirty and touching ─, he also had those moments where he seemed to… Overthink? You weren’t really sure what was going on.

It was like he couldn’t help but grimace each time you and Chan were mentioned on those. He seemed pretty okay in being the center of the rumors… Whether it was you or Paris, he didn’t seem to mind when either of you was pictured with him but he got clearly upset when Chan was involved. You were not sure if it was just his overprotective self over Chan or if he was suspicious of something going on between both of you while he knew the other rumors were just bullshit.

He probably believed that both of you were hiding things from him. Again. You honestly had no idea why your friends had so much of a hard time understanding the things you said. You and Chan would never have anything! You were best friends, for Lord’s sake! And that was it.

No. Romantic. Feelings. At. All.

“There is nothing to misunderstand here, Hyunjin” You sighed “You and I have nothing going on and neither do I and Chan” You explained for the hundredth time already “Not wanting to fuel the rumors isn’t the same as caring about them” You added, grimacing at him in a matter-of-fact way that made him scoff.

“I see…” He hummed, staring into your eyes for a second too long “Well… Anyway, I came here for a new book” He clarified, placing the last one he borrowed on the counter “This one was pretty good but I still preferred the first you lent me” He added, drumming his fingers on the book’s cover “I was wondering if you don’t have any other indications” He shrugged, averting his eyes from yours.

“Oh? I thought you were a slow reader” You arched your brows in surprise, taking the book from the counter while looking at him “Are you sure you read that one?” You joked, chuckling.

“I guess you still have a lot to learn about me” He giggled, leaning once more on the counter “Maybe if you started to pay attention to me instead of listening to those rumors…” He let the sentence hang in the air teasingly, smirking as you rolled your eyes “Or maybe we should start dating to give them a reason to talk” He chuckled, wiggling his brows at you.

“Great 5th grade way to think” You praised him mockingly, giving him a thumbs-up as you pressed the book against your chest and made your way to the shelf it was supposed to be on “Do you have any genre in mind?” You asked mindlessly, checking the codes to match the book.

“Surprise me” He joked, trying to do an awkward French accent that made you look funnily at him “Oh, come on… Ratatouille? No? Really?” He nagged, mumbling displeased as you giggled at his antics.

You turned on the aisle, eyes roaming around as he followed you closely behind, gaze wandering around the many books displayed on the shelves. You put the one you were holding back in its place, humming as you studied the content on the shelves. He hummed along with you, playfully leaning closer to your ear as he pretended to be invested in looking for something to read.

His presence sent shivers all the way down your body.

No… Not his presence.

It was the setting… Yes, it had to be it.

The library had that mysterious ancient vibe that thrilled you… The brownish solid colors surrounding everything in a majestic framing that made you feel too small… The hard-covered books’ scent in the air, a full-bodied heaviness that seemed to clamp you… The dim lighting that revealed each scattering mote fluttering around, agitated by the soft huff Hyunjin let out… The warmth that crept into your bones as you held your breath for just a half-second…

It wasn’t him.

The way your heart rammed against your chest had nothing to do with his presence… Nor it had anything to do with his hands slowly making their way to the shelves, trapping you between him and the books… And you were almost too sure that the cloudy thoughts flickering in your mind and the fluttering sensations in your stomach ─ that forced you to swallow dryly ─ had something to do with your skipped meal but, again, not with him.

“Someone looks nervous” He whispered and somehow his breathing seemed to tighten your chest and quicken your heart pace once more. You could see both of his hands right in front of you and yet it felt like he was embracing you… The way you had to force your eyes open wasn’t a good sign to your brain “All stiff and…” He continued; voice purposely teasingly “… Panting” He added, a hint of amusement under his tone.

“Stop joking around…” You managed to say, lips quivering as he chuckled huskily. Although you could feel his warmth and presence clearly, there was no inch of skin ─ except his chin making its way to rest on your shoulder ─ to seal the deal. It felt intimate yet distant… It felt like you were supposed to laugh it off but you didn’t want to.

“It doesn’t need to be a j—“ He couldn’t finish what he was going to say, interrupted by a gasp that had both of your heads snapping at the side. There, facing the aisle with mouth fully agape and widened eyes, was someone who was bound to spread some more rumors around.

“I-I’m sorry” They blurted out “I-I didn’t mean to interrupt” They rushed to say, clearing their throat before turning around, utterly flustered by what they thought to have witnessed. You groaned, resting your forehead on the shelf before flicking Hyunjin’s nose, pushing him away for you to look for a new book.

“Read this” You spat, shoving a random one into his hands.

////

Your thoughts were filled with Hyunjin.

Although your eyes were fixed on the TV, you couldn’t care less about whatever was going on there. The voices sounded like a buzz in the back of your head and the image was almost too blurry for you to understand but Paris’ distinct laughter was a good cue for you to laugh at some joke you didn’t listen to. Whether it was your chuckle sounding too fake or too off time, she seemed to notice that something was going on inside your head.

She didn’t even say anything, pausing the show before looking straight at you with a questioning look, arching her brow as she waited for you to say something. There was it… The two-path road. You could either tell her that it was nothing ─ and she would probably narrow her eyes at you until you made up a random excuse ─ or you could actually tell her what has been on your mind lately ─ and then you would have to put up with the insufferable Paris state.

Too late to back off now… You should have paid attention to the show.

You glanced at her ─ unsure about what to say or do at a moment like this ─, biting your lip as you blinked a few times to buy some time to decide what you were going to do. You knew Paris well enough to predict her reaction… As soon as you said that you have been thinking a lot about all those rumors, she would instantly assume that you were worrying over it because you had some suppressed feelings that you were trying to hide.

You just knew it.

“So…” She stressed, still staring at you “What’s going on inside that little box of yours?” She joked, pointing at her own head before hugging her knees, sitting across you on the couch.

Path N° 1: The finals are right there at the corner…

Path N° 2: I can’t understand where all those rumors are coming from… I didn’t do anything suspicious with Chan or Hyunjin and suddenly people are talking behind our back. Either I messed up really bad about something and didn’t notice or someone misunderstood something I did… Or maybe it could be because Hyunjin has been flirting a lot lately! He pinned me against the wall thrice already. Do you think this is strange? I’m finding it a little odd... Maybe I’m being too sensitive over useless st–

“Y/N?” Paris called you softly, tilting her head to the other side as if it could help her to see what was going on in your mind “Are you feeling okay? You seem a little bit… Off… Today” She said carefully, studying your features for a brief moment.

“I’ve been thinking about the rumors…” You began hesitantly, checking for her reaction “Don’t you find it strange? I mean… You and Hyunjin had your rumors before but I hadn’t been dragged into this until now” You pointed out, shrugging “I find it odd that people are talking about me and Chan out of nowhere and… Well, talking like I’m hooking up with Hyunjin behind your back” You explained.

Paris didn’t say anything at first, seeming surprised by your worries.

“Well…” She cleared her throat “I mean… I have heard some things about you and Chan around… And you kinda… Well—“ She licked her lips, visibly stiffening up as she thought about what to say “You know? Some people saw you guys at the library… And you guys keep calling each other sweety and stuff…” She floundered her hand in the air as if it helped her to express it better “And you gave him your keys… And he slept here the whole week…” She trailed off.

“What the fuck?” You blurted, surprised by all this “How do they even know about this?!” You frowned, wondering how many people heard all those kinds of stuff out of context and got to build up a rumor like this.

“Yeah… Well, you guys aren’t really subtle” She chuckled nervously “And I think that you shouldn’t really have said that you guys used to… Have sex…” She practically whispered the last part, ashamed to talk about it “Before, you know? Especially on a party” She cleared her throat once more, fixing herself on the couch.

You had what now?

“I never said that” You frowned “I never had sex with Chan… I-“ You scowled in disgust “Why would I ever have sex with Chan? We’re literally best friends! He’s like a brother to me or something… Ew” You scrunched your nose, shaking your head to get rid of the thought “What made you think I had sex with him? What the fuck?” it would be an understatement to say that you were flabbergasted.

“Well… You kinda did” She arched her brow, looking at you filled with confusion “You told us you used to hook up with Chan, remember?” She asked as if she was talking to a kid “At the party, you clearly said that you used to hook up with him…” She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows matter-of-factly, almost as if she was trying to transfer her memories to you.

“No, I most definitely didn’t say this” You grimaced at her, finding all the situation kinda odd, “I said I hooked up with Chan’s friend” You emphasized, returning the look to her “I would never say I hooked up with him… You distorting what I said” You blinked, staring at her in confusion as she gasped.

“Oh! It was Chan’s friend!” She chortled “Well, so you should roast Chan! He interrupted you, and I think everyone understood the very same as me” She huffed, seeming to find the situation amusing “Oh my God… I’m pretty sure that was what triggered the rumors about you and Chan, to be honest” She mused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

“I can’t believe you guys thought—“ You sighed in resignation “Well… Anyway, I’m not dating or fucking Chan” You said dismissively, already done with how all this had started “And what have you heard about Hyunjin? What started it all?” You deadpanned, waiting for some silly explanation once again.

Paris stared blankly at you.

“You’re kidding, right?” She sounded taken aback, looking at you as if you tried to make a bad joke. The way you stood silent, staring back at her in genuine curiosity, must have seemed really sincere because she chortled before answering you “Y/N, he literally kissed you at the stairs” She reminded you slowly, trying to get the words to sink into your head.

She didn’t need to do much.

You didn’t want to admit it ─ and you would refuse to for as long as you could ─ but that kiss… Fake kiss! That fake kiss… You couldn’t help but gulp down as you felt your senses being electrified just by the mention of it. How many times did you push aside that thought? How many times did you ignore the flickering thought in the back of your mind? How many times you could practically see him leaning in for a kiss?

You licked your lips, biting them to restrain the turmoil inside your head.

Of course, you weren’t blind… Hyunjin was a handsome piece of shit. You knew it even when you hated him. You knew it even when you didn’t want to acknowledge it… Even when you wanted to believe that it was just the popular opinion about him.

Now, you couldn’t ignore how pretty he was.

You weren’t quite sure if it was all in your mind ─ he did lean it too quickly for you to notice every single thing ─ but you could still feel the fire on his gaze as he made his move. You could remember how eager he was… Or at least, how eager you believed him to be as you were crushed against the wall and lost all the air inside your lungs. Was it just you being surprised? Was it the abruptness of the situation? Or did he really pin you against the wall as if his life depended on it? You surely felt like it was the last one… But could it be you the one who wanted to believe it for dear life?

No, of course, not.

The warmth of his hands still lingered there on your skin from time to time, and the soft pressure in your lips seemed to be carved at the back of your mind. You hated that sometimes you pressed your lips with your thumb ─ the same pressure though not the same way he did ─ just to snap out of it a second too late. You also couldn’t forget the way he tilted his head to deepen a kiss that didn’t really happen… The way the realization washed over you right at that second.

It wasn’t disappointment… It was something else.

You could still feel how his touch changed on that second… The hold was firm and consistent… It was like he didn’t want to let you go; like something just switched on his head and triggered something that felt so much like… You gulped down once more, still refusing to stress that thought out. The way your breaths mingled and hitched… Faltered… It was almost painful to know that it didn’t really happen.

There was it…

Desire and passion.

The urges of a single woman who hadn’t been getting some in a while.

“It was a fake kiss” You finally answered her but by now, Paris knew too damn well where your thoughts were wandering around a second earlier.

“Yeah, but it seemed pretty real for anyone who took a glance at it” She reminded you, and the suggestive hint under her tone made you scoff “And I don’t want to say it—“

“Then just don’t” You grimaced at her.

“—But I think both of you were pretty into it even for a fake kiss…” She grinned at you teasingly, and the tired sigh that left your lips seemed to fuel her “I can remember quite well how you just let your hands right on his chest… I don’t recall you pushing him away, you know?” her grin spread all over her face “I think you enjoyed feeling him under your touch a whole lot…” She raised her eyebrows, throwing you a knowing look that made you huff, rubbing your face in distress.

Why did she have to say that?!

You clenched your fists, trying to suppress the memories that you didn’t need to have right now… So what if his chest felt so warm and firm under his shirt? So damn fine under your touch? What about the way the water droplets seemed to caress his tanned skin? So what if the very same droplets must have rolled down and down and down and… Well, all the way down from his throat to his collarbone to his chest to… You couldn’t help but lick your lips, shaking your head to dismiss the thought.

It didn’t matter.

The way he bought you coffee and waited for you on Monday? It didn’t matter. The way his damp hair gave him a sexy vibe that looked like a plead for being warmed up on a cold Tuesday? It didn’t matter. The way he was trying to impress you with good food? It didn’t matter. The way he kept visiting you at your work to ask for indications? It didn’t matter. The way he kept flirting and teasing you around? It didn’t matter.

None of it mattered because Hyunjin had been pretty clear before.

He wanted you as a friend.

A good friend.

“I think…” You trailed off, darting your eyes away from her “I may…” You gulped down, reconnecting your gazes before sighing heavily “I guess I’m feeling attracted to him…” You admitted.

It probably wasn’t the reaction she was expecting because Paris just let her mouth hang open as her eyes widened, utterly in shock to hear it coming out of your mouth. You pursed your lips, feeling kinda embarrassed by her reaction, averting your gaze once more as you played with your own fingers, refusing to look at her. Was it that strange for you to feel… Well, some kind of silly attraction towards your stupidly handsome friend?

You didn’t think so.

“You don’t need to be so surprised… It’s not like I’m a criminal or something” You muttered, peeking at her for a split of a second before focusing on your hands once more “I think the fake kiss kinda… Awoke something? Like a tiny little spark or something… Nothing too important or any—“ You were just rambling at this point.

“No!” She blurted, hands waving exaggeratedly in front of her body “I mean- Yes! I’m not… I mean… It’s not that I’m shocked, I’m just…” She floundered her hands around, trying to find the right words in her mind “I think it’s great!” She chortled “Oh my God… Yeah, I think it’s great! It’s great that you have a crush on him or something!” She chirped, and you couldn’t help but frown.

“How is it great?” You asked warily “We’re literally just friends and he’s the hugest fuckboy we had ever met” You reminded her “There is nothing great in it… Actually, I think that’s the worst thought my brain had ever had” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“He’s not that bad!” She retorted eagerly “He’s actually really sweet!” She added quickly, trying to convince you as she patted your knee “I mean… He’s smart! Isn’t he? You guys are always arguing in class!” You arched your brow at the distorted way to boost him “He also has good grades! I know you like smart guys” She threw you an insistent look.

Well… You were not so sure the attraction had much to do with his brains.

“He’s also really funny! You’re always laughing at things he says!” She kept her monologue “He also likes the foods you like! He’s always spending time at the hot dog stand! He even knows your favorite food by now!” She was so excited at all this that it was almost like she was selling him to you “He has an amazing taste for TV shows! I can testify that” She smiled proudly “And he’s also interested in your things! He’s reading the books you like and everything!”

Yeah… She kinda had a point, to be honest.

“You said yourself that he had been flirting! So… I mean- It has to mean something, right?” She asked filled with hope, looking at you expectantly “He wouldn’t flirt with someone he doesn’t like! So to the very least, he likes you!” She clasped her hands together, excited.

“He has been flirting with me even when we hated each other” You pointed out skeptically, and she groaned in frustration.

“Okay! He’s a fuckboy, I get it! Flirting is what he does” She rolled her eyes, impatient “But he hasn’t been fucking anyone for a while! He has a crush on someone and he’s being really romantic about it!” She insisted, making your chortle.

“Yeah… Because not fucking people around when you like someone is a great romantic gesture” You sneered “You sound too… Eager to make your point” You narrowed your eyes, tilting your head in suspicion “You’re not being the usual…” You cleared your throat to imitate her “I ship you guys so much!” You chirped mockingly, clapping your hands repeatedly in a short and rapid motion “You’re… Did he tell your something?” You asked curiously.

“What are you talking about?!” She asked in a high-pitched tone, snorting in a too anxious way to be natural “It’s just that you’ve never shown interest in anyone before! I’m excited!” She dismissed your thought, waving her hand at you “I’ve been waiting for this! The day you would talk to me about boys and stuff like this!” She whined, and for a moment she really did sound sincere enough for you to believe her.

“It doesn’t matter anyway” You shrugged “You said so yourself… He’s been crushing on someone” You pointed out, uncrossing your arms and returning your gaze to the TV “Also, it’s not like I want to fuck him… Too much trouble, right? I know he isn’t the type to attach… He wouldn’t risk our friendship just to get his dick wet” You reasoned.

“What if he’s crushing on you?” She asked unsurely, glancing at you.

“Yeah, right!” You just laughed it off, gesturing for her to hit the play.

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theheightofdishonor · 4 years ago

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Teen Wolf triads are something that can be so personal, so here’s a list of my faves

Scott/Stiles/Allison

The OG trio. The gang that dies together might not stay together, but they’re still iconic.

Scott/Stiles/Lydia

Any Scott/Stiles/X dynamic is brilliant, but few more than this one. These three have been there since the beginning and they’ve gone through so much together. There’s no Teen Wolf without them.

Scott/Stiles/Derek

They were the driving force in S1&2 and had some absolutely iconic moments together. Hate that there wasn’t more of them after that.

Scott/Derek/Isaac

Mostly based on S2/3. I was very invested in Isaac’s struggle to pick between these two.

Scott/Stiles/Isaac

This triad’s dynamic completely changes between S2 and 3. In Season 2, Isaac, as part of Derek’s pack is a slightly antagonistic figure and it’s very much Scott&Stiles vs Isaac but in S3, Scott and Isaac grow closer while Isaac and Stiles erm, don’t. It’s very fun to watch.

Scott/Isaac/Allison

My ot3 and the only trio on this list that I 100% ship.

Isaac/Erica/Boyd

Ayy, it’s the OG Hale Pack aka 3 teens bonding over being thrown headfirst into something they weren’t prepared for and Derek’s horrible leadership. Isaac should’ve ran away with Erica and Boyd for solidarity’s sake.

Chris/Allison/Isaac

Chris’s struggle between hating Isaac for dating his daughter and wanting to adopt him is hilarious. One of my favourites.

Scott/Melissa/Isaac

Who didn’t completely melt at Isaac joining the McCall fam? The scene where they’re ‘guarding’ Melissa was so cute. As a bonus, it made Stiles’s animosity towards Isaac that much stronger. Will forever hate that this trio was more or less non-existent in 3b even though I love Chris/Allison/Isaac.

Derek/Cora/Peter

The non-dead Hales. Why oh why did Cora have to leave? Their family dynamic was great.

Allison/Lydia/Cora

I know they only had a couple scenes as a triad, but there was so potential. We love antagonism with underlying sexual tension. And ofc, the only thing better than 1 terrifying badass that can secretly be super sweet is 3 terrifying badasses.

Derek/Isaac/Boyd

At one point, the only non-dead members of the Hale Pack (TW quickly amended that). I always think of the S3a Loft scene where Boyd and Isaac skip school to protect Derek. Despite how awful of an alpha Derek’s been, they still care about him and he cares about them (as actual people and not just betas that he needs for power like he did originally)

Derek/Allison/Lydia.

Yes it’s my 5th s3 based trio in a row, but can you blame me? This is 100% based off the classroom scene in 3x02.

Allison/Lydia/Jackson

Although Lydia and Jackson were both awful in S1, their friendship with Allison and their immediately taking her under their wing was beyond precious. Additionally, it combines both the asshole-who’s-soft-towards-1-person- dynamic (jydia w/ allison) and assholes-who-secretly-care-about-each-other (jydia) And ofc, the underlying tension due to Jydia’s disdain towards Scott and later, Jackson and Allison’s experiences/knowledge of the supernatural.

Malia/Kira/Lydia

Comedy gold. Their scenes speak for themselves and we needed more.

Liam/Mason/Corey

Their S6a dynamic is sooo underrated and should’ve been given more screen time. I loved watching Liam and Corey struggle to get along for Mason’s sake because they want him to be happy. It was all very wholesome and one of the few things that made 6a worth watching.

Stiles/Scott/Liam

Aka the best part of S4.Their dynamic is so fun and well-balanced and infinitely better because they’re a triad. You’ve got Scott and Liam figuring out their mentor/mentee relationship with Stiles co-parenting and preventing the Scott/Liam dynamic from turning unhealthy. (Liam and Scott’s S6 dynamic veered way too close to parent/child for my taste. They need Stiles to balance it out) It’s also hilarious how quickly Liam accepts being aggressively adopted by two idiots who are barely older than him. And Stiles takes so easily to playing older brother/co-parent. It’s adorable. They’re adorable.

Erica/Allison/Lydia

Very similar dynamic to Allison/Lydia/Cora due to Cora and Erica’s similar personalities but also not, which has a lot to do with Allison and Lydia’s reactions to Erica’s weaponized feminity. Also, there’s a lot more history between these girls and I want to know everything about what Erica thinks of Lydia after going to school with her for years.

Sherriff/Melissa/Chris

Of the top of my head, I can only remember that time where they were trapped under the Nemeton and that’s simply unacceptable.

Sheriff/Noshiko/Melissa.

It’s a crime that this triad never got scenes. Especially after the Sheriff tried to arrest Kira. I know Melissa bitch slapped him but I wanted to watch these two badasses gang up on the Sheriff together. ( the Noshiko/Melissa dynamic would be so iconic.)

Victoria/Noshiko/Melissa

Another triad that never shared scenes (obviously because Vic is dead) but their power would’ve been off the charts. I want to make a joke about milfs, but I’ll refrain.

The Yukimura fam

Seemed appropriate since my last two also included. Noshiko.I love family dynamics and the Yukimuras are no exception. The attraction of this triad, for me, is mostly the dynamic between Kira and Noshiko and how Ken navigates between them. They’re also a trio that we didn’t see nearly enough of in S4 and 5. Like seriously, where were they? Noshiko’s on the dead pool, but she’s barely mentioned. (on a mostly unrelated note, how is the 900 yr old Kitsune worth less than a girl that just found about her kitsune powers?)

Derek/Allison/Scott

I don’t need to explain this one. The angst, the drama, Derek projecting Kate onto Allison and Allison trying to murder Derek and their evolution to reluctant allies with a good dash of Scallison and Scott navigating his own difficult relationship with Derek. Aka the complicated, tension fraught trio we all loved/should love. ( ok, I kind of explained it)

Derek/Scott/Liam

And here we have a two for one deal; two mentor/mentee dynamics in 1 triad. People much smarter than me have written about this trio in extensive detail, so all I’m saying is that Derek’s that one uncle who occasionally comes around and gives somewhat helpful advice.

Braeden/Malia/Scott

Braeden and Scott were great in S4. Braeden and Malia were great in S5. Scott and Malia are pretty great when they’re not in a relationship. Combine, and you get what had to be a kick-ass triad that’s sadly never canonly shown together (I think)

Melissa/Chris/Isaac

Not actually featured in the show, but Isaac deserves all the parental figures and I want to witness the surely epic custody battle between Chris and Melissa.

Malia/Scott/Peter

That this trio is on here is actually pretty funny because I hate both Scalia and the forced Peter/Malia bonding in S6. But I loved the scene where Peter warned Malia not to fall in love with Scott because a) he has absolutely 0 right to advise her on anything and b) because of the history between Scott and Peter. In a way, a relationship with Malia is just another thing tying Scott to someone that’s repeatedly caused harm to him and his friends and was the initial cause for all the pain he’s suffered in the last couple years. I just find this dynamic worth exploring.

Malia/Derek/Peter

The Hales 2.0. Derek and Malia deserve to bond over unwillingly being related to Peter, that scumbag.

Malia/Stiles/Peter

Stiles and Peter are so fun together and Stalia is my jam. Throw in an antagonistic Malia and Peter relationship and they’re entertaining as hell. Much more lighthearted than Malia/Scott/Peter.

Stiles/Malia/Lydia

To clarify, this has nothing to do with a love triangle and everything to do with how their personalities play off each other. It’s one of those trios where together, they’re either terrifying or absolute morons.

Stiles/Cora/Derek

Admittedly, my version of this is very Sterek+Cora and the hilarity of Stiles and his attraction to Hales but it’s also 3x snark and you really can’t go wrong.

Scott/Stiles/Melissa

It’s Melissa and her boys 1.0. This woman is by far the best parent on this show, and I love the specific dynamic among these three. Melissa might not always like Stiles, but she cares about him and there’s the mutual understanding that they both adore Scott and would do anything for him. Also, Mel being exasperated by the dumbass duo is always funny.

Kate/Allison/Chris

Lowkey another custody battle because Kate and Chris do fight to be the bigger influence on Allison This is such a tragic trio to me, and the lesson here is basically that sometimes love isn’t enough. Chris and Kate both genuinely love Allison and she loves them too but can’t have both and at some point, she has neither. Kate and Chris care about each other, but that’s not enough either. In the end, they all lose each other. There’s no happy ending for them, at least not with each other.

Derek/Stiles/Peter

Stiles just has chemistry (not necessarily romantic) with all Hales and this trio really shines through in 3x01 and in S3 in general. “Chess is Stiles’s game” asgdhfjgh. I wanted more of that very specific dynamic.

That was a hell lot longer than I thought it would be, but what can you do. Feel free to tell me your own opinions in the tags/comments.

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 5 years ago

Text

Within Arms of Heaven | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x Plus Size Reader, past!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 13.1k

✦ summary — you find out secret relationships are not always a good idea the hard way, but it doesn’t matter in the end.

✦ warnings — nsfw, angst, reader is Tony Stark’s niece, mentions/depictions of cheating, a brief relationship with an age gap, hypersexuality, smut, unprotected sex (please don’t do this), oral sex (both receiving), vaginal sex, there’s a scene that could be triggering in terms of sexual assault but sexual assault is not depicted in the story, fluff

✦ a/n — I hope this isn’t too long, lmao. Let me know what you think!

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Childishly, you did your best to adopt a comfortable position and faked being asleep the moment you heard the front door open. If you tried hard enough, he might’ve felt pity and cuddle you for once.

The mattress dipped. You waited as your ears picked the shuffling of fabric and sheets.

“I know you’re awake,” Bucky whispered in your ear, pulling you against him as his hard-on rubbed against your ass.

Letting out the smallest strangled sound you were capable of, you turned around. He immediately kissed you, rolling you over so he’d be on top.

You stretched your arm in order to turn the lamp on, but Bucky stopped you, pinning your wrists over your head with one hand as he kissed down your neck. You opened your legs, waiting for him to get comfortable between them.

Bucky pulled your panties to the side, making you hiss as the cold air hit your pussy. He pulled his cock out and entered you in a swift motion, grunting lowly.

You moaned louder than you had intended. Bucky clamped his free hand over your mouth, tightening his grip around your wrists with his metal hand to leverage himself as he pounded into you.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” You asked as you caught your breath.

Bucky sighed, “You know I can’t.”

Humming, you nuzzled against his chest. With his arm around you and heartbeat under your ear, you fell asleep only to wake up to a cold bed.

You didn’t mind rough sex, but hiding the bruises was getting harder and harder. This time Bucky had gone a little too far, wearing makeup on your wrists would seem excessive to anyone.

To make matters worse, when you thought you would have time alone with him he decided to be late again after having promised he would be there at 8.

There was nothing you could do to keep him from being late or from canceling plans, he didn’t want to tell people you were dating and you respected that. He wasn’t ready, he didn’t want to be seen as a creep — you understood, you always would understand.

His lateness turned into absence.

Your intentions had been to say goodbye properly before he embarked on the mission he would be part of with Sam and Sharon. Oh, well, you would have to make do with wishing him good luck in the morning.

Watching the team leave for missions was ingrained in your weekly routine. There was always something to take care of, somewhere where at least a couple of Avengers were needed.

It was especially common for Bucky to be part of those missions. He always had the energy and the drive to do it, you imagined he wanted to prove to the world — and perhaps to himself— that he deserved his title as an avenger.

His goodbyes were always cold. They had to be, you knew, it was for the best. But you had to wonder if he had ever to stopped to think for a second that one day a cold goodbye could be the last thing he said to you.

You missed him. Sleeping without him wasn’t the same, waking up in a hurry to not be caught with him when you had visitors was a fundamental part of your mornings.

His blue eyes would often ground you, making you feel like you were finally finding the normality your life had lacked years ago. You missed their comfort, how shiny they turned when he spoke about his sister.

But you would see him soon. Tony had told you that the mission was going smoothly according to Sam. He would surely be back for your birthday next month.

Bucky promised you would come clean to your friends and family after the party when the pressure was off Tony’s shoulders.

The preparations for the celebration kept you busy enough, Tony wanted to go above and beyond due to it being the first time you would celebrate your birthday as a legitimate Stark.

Tony had found out you were his niece after everything went down in Siberia. He contacted your mom, his half-sister when he was ready to confront the fact that his father had been worse than he anticipated. They bonded rather quickly, and you had so many things in common with him that he got attached from the day he met you.

He offered to pay your college tuition immediately, but you made an arrangement with him that you would work for him. Tony clarified that you would work with him and not for him, it was an important distinction.

Pepper had been surprised when she got back to run Stark Enterprises and you were there, but she too took a liking to you.

One evening, Bruce and you were the last to leave the lab, everyone else was already in the dining room. Dinner time would arrive soon, and you knew better than to leave Tony waiting.

The chatter was chirpy, they were happier than you had ever seen them.

“What are we so happy for?” You asked, taking your seat around the table.

“Bucky and Sharon finally made their relationship public,” Natasha explained.

Relationship? Public? Sharon? What were they talking about?

Peter showed you a photo on his tablet. There Bucky and Sharon were, happily touching each other as they enjoyed a sunny day at the beach.

Peter swiped his finger against the screen, now showing you a photo of Bucky clearly checking Sharon —his girlfriend— out.

Another swipe and now the photo showed Sharon, —Bucky’s gorgeous girlfriend— kissing him.

So he could go public with Steve’s ex-girlfriend but not with you?

Peter craned his neck to look at you. His puppy eyes appeared in your field of vision, blocking the photograph, as he asked, “Are you okay?”

You immediately nodded, clearing your throat in hopes that the lump forming wouldn’t be audible. “Yeah, sorry. My eyes are tired.”

“See, Tony?” Bruce chastised your uncle, “she needs a few more hours of sleep.”

You changed the subject, “So Sharon and Bucky have been dating for a while?”

Natasha stared solely at you. “You didn’t know?”

“I’m not close to any of them,” you excused your reaction. “They are always busy.”

And now it made sense as to why.

“It’s nice to see Bucky happy,” Peter commented earnestly.

You hummed, lifting your glass to take a sip of water.

Every time Bucky had complained because you were close to someone else was now infuriating. He had accused you of cheating on him with Peter just because you had fallen asleep watching a movie with him, then a week later he had bluntly asked if you would rather fuck Sam after you helped him to fix his wings.

Turns out he had been projecting the whole time.

You were less than excited about your birthday now. Wishing he wouldn’t come back in time for the celebration, you busied yourself with work like your mom did when your dad left.

He didn’t deserve your tears, nor your time really. You felt stupid for believing he worried about his career or what people would think of you for dating someone older. His excuse of wanting you to find a balance between working at the company and personally with Tony hurt the most, you had found how much he cared comforting.

The worst part was not being able to show how you were feeling. It was extremely hard around such smart and cunning people. Pepper was the one who asked first, and you could tell she had talked about it with Nat due to how quickly the redhead took interest in the conversation.

“I’m kinda overwhelmed,” you admitted.

Nat threw an arm around you and pulled you closer to her. “Birthdays, huh?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, relieved unbeknownst to them.

Sam was back already, he said he wouldn’t skip your birthday for anything in the world. You appreciated it, yet you felt a pang in your chest when he said they would’ve taken you to the mission if he had known it would be so short.

You had never gone to the beach, you didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of people seeing you in a swimsuit as a teen; and now it couldn’t be that different, much less if it was next to Sharon.

Sam told you once that you would love it as much as he did. You believed him, you just weren’t ready.

Your heart wouldn’t have taken seeing Bucky with Sharon. Although you wondered what would have his explanation been.

The idea of seeing them together on a daily basis was heart-wrenching. You loved your job, your uncle, your friends, too much to simply quit — at least you wouldn’t have to watch them leave each other’s room every morning.

You didn’t know how to feel when Sharon and Bucky arrived. Hand in hand, sporting a nice tan and beaming smiles.

Sharon let Bucky’s hand go in order to approach you. She gave you a warm hug, telling you she had a surprise for you.

“For me?” you hoped you hadn’t sounded bitter.

It seemed like you hadn’t because she grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the couch as she hurried to open her luggage. “I had to buy a bikini at the beach because I didn’t know Bucky would surprise me with a trip there,” she told you, happily.

She sounded so enamored, as though she had always dreamt of having someone like Bucky beside her. You wished he wouldn’t fail her like he had failed you.

“And the store had plus-size items! I bought you the ones I thought you would like.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to hide your shock. “Oh, Sharon, you shouldn’t have...”

“Nonsense, I should have. You will look gorgeous in them.”

Your eyes crossed Bucky’s for a fleeting second. He quickly focused his eyes on the carpet under his feet and your own went back to Sharon who was handing you the swimsuits she bought for you.

“Why don’t you try them on? We might finally convince Tony of giving us a long vacation if you like them.”

Everyone laughed at Natasha’s suggestion, everyone but Bucky and you.

Reluctantly, you accepted. Maybe it would help you get a confidence boost... you definitely needed one. And a hug. God, a big hug.

You had never visited Sharon’s room. The two of you weren’t close, your schedules didn’t align and when they did it was for important events.

She hadn’t visited your apartment either. When Tony asked if you would rather live at The Compound or on your own, you had been tempted to choose The Compound but ultimately decided that you would never be able to unwind in such a busy place.

Peter had been apart from Bucky the person who had spent more time at your place. Spending time with Peter was nice, he was the first avenger you met after Tony and like the younger brother you had always wanted to have. You enjoyed hearing his secrets and silly jokes, giving him advice... Bucky always left you wishing you could at least tell Peter about your relationship.

Sharon motioned for Natasha, Carol, and you to get comfortable in her bedroom.

As you were guided toward the bathroom, to try the first swimsuit on, you saw them sit on the bed where Bucky and Sharon had probably slept on together thousands of times.

Sharon looked proud of her choices every time you came out of the bathroom to show them. Her expression made you feel worse — it would have been easier to hate her if she wasn’t so nice, such a good agent, such a supportive woman.

She couldn’t have possibly known Bucky had been playing with you and now your anger mingled with guilt. Had he cheated on you with her or on her with you?

It didn’t matter; you felt awful.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

You were finishing typing a report for Tony when Peter leaned onto your desk. You hummed, motioning for him to speak.

“Can Ned hang with us this weekend?” Peter asked, tapping his fingers against the edge of the table, “he’s upset because Betty will be out of town.”

One weekend each month, Peter and you would have a movie marathon. Sometimes Tony joined if he wasn’t busy, but it was usually only the two of you with a few visits from Pepper or May here and there, it depended on where the marathon was taking place.

Admittedly, you weren’t in the mood for spending time with anyone, but being alone didn’t sound like something you would be able to put up with. So you told Peter that it was fine, because it was; Ned was nice, he was a far better company than your tears.

Happy drove you to May and Peter’s apartment. They would go out on a date, or so you assumed by how long had it taken Happy to get changed. Your assumptions were confirmed when a blushing May opened the door.

“Ned and Peter are in Pete’s room,” she let you know as she parted from you after kissing your cheek.

Placing the snacks you had brought onto Peter’s desk, you greeted both him and Ned with a wave.

You made yourself comfortable between them. Peter’s bed was too small for the three of you so they had arranged something that resembled a pillow fort.

Focusing on the film became a task after the first ten minutes. You had to wonder why Bucky had never tried to treat you as a friend in front of everyone, why could Ned rest his head on your shoulder platonically but not him? What was wrong with affection towards you?

“Okay,” Ned sighed, pausing the film. “What’s going on with you, (N/N)?”

You almost smiled at the nickname. Should you tell them? They wouldn’t laugh, you had never met sweeter guys than them; maybe Thor, but Thor wasn’t even human.

“I had a bad experience with a guy and I’m a little upset,” you confessed. It was fine, you hadn’t said who — you wouldn’t say who.

“Define bad experience.”

“He cheated on me kind of bad.”

“You should make Peter kick his ass.”

You chuckled sadly, “It’s not worth it.”

“Who was it?”

“Oh, you don’t know him, Pete.”

Peter made you rest your head on his lap, rubbing your back in the same manner he had seen Tony do it when you were upset. Comforting people didn’t come with his spider-sense and abilities, sadly.

“We’ll find you a hot nice guy,” Ned promised. After a pause, he added, “Or a girl? Do you have a preference?”

“I don’t want to date anyone ever again.”

“Now you’re just saying things,” Peter observed. He knew how easily you grew infatuated with people, like that guy at Costco or the one at Stark Expo... He was still in the process of forgiving you for saying Brad Davis was handsome, for fuck’s sake!

“Men are disgusting. No offense.”

“None taken,” both Peter and Ned assured.

“They lie and say they want to protect you, they say they’re not ready to take things seriously in case something bad happens,” you started venting, angry at yourself for not seeing how stupid it sounded. “God, I was so stupid,” you sobbed.

Sharing a look with Ned, Peter told you, “Now I’m definitely kicking someone’s ass.”

Peter soon found out who had broken your heart. He hadn’t needed you to tell him, Bucky gave himself away by squirming every time you entered a room and this once hadn’t been the exception.

Bucky caught Peter staring, but he didn’t think much of it. The kid was curious, he liked that about him.

As you entered the lab, you paused when you saw Tony was fixing Bucky’s arm. You were about to start small talk with Peter when your uncle asked, “Can you attend a meeting at Wayne Enterprises this Tuesday?”

You avoided looking at Bucky as you acknowledged Tony. “It sounds like a bad idea, uncle.”

Tony chuckled. You only called him uncle when you wanted to convince him of something. “Look, I’ll be busy with Thunderbolt, and Pep has that trip to Germany...”

“I’m not a good businessperson.”

“They’re not interested in the business part, they want details of the project. Only Pepper could do a better job than you at that.”

It was a high compliment. However, you were doubtful — you weren’t as good with words as Tony and Pepper were, and from what you knew about The Waynes, they were pretty stuck up.

“It’s just more rich people but in Gotham,” Tony assured. “You dealt with Hammer really well last time. And Happy will go with you.”

What Tony failed to mention about the way you dealt with Hammer was that he had never wanted to have a deal with him in the first place.

You gave in still. “Which project are we presenting?”

Smiling widely, Tony instructed F.R.I.D.A.Y to send a copy of the details to your Starkpad.

You curled up in the couch while reading the files, remembering bits and pieces of the observations you had made yourself. Part of your notes was still there, thankfully transcribed and not in your hurried handwriting.

Someone cleared their throat behind you. “Can we, uh, talk?”

You shook your head, not even bothering to take your eyes off the document you were reading.

“It’ll be quick.”

“I am busy, James,” you said dismissively.

He hated being called James, he had told you a few times that it reminded him of a person he couldn’t be anymore. Well, you hated having been kept as a secret only to eventually get cheated on — he couldn’t be just Bucky to you anymore.

You had no interest in excuses, you needed to move on. You would move on, you always had and he wasn’t the most important person in your life to break your heart either way.

If you could take your father’s abandonment, you could take being cheated on by a man who didn’t know what he wanted. Or so you hoped.

Pepper greeted him, then you. Observing what you were reading, she let out a small laugh. “Good luck if you have to deal with Damian Wayne.”

At that, you lifted your head. “Why?”

“Don’t scare her, honey,” Tony warned playfully, patting Bucky’s back as he passed him.

Your question remained unanswered.

The waiting room was comfortable, you would give them that. Pepper had been right, you needed luck in order to deal with Damian Wayne. Regretting having said yes to Tony, you looked at Happy and gave him your best puppy eyes in attempts to convince him to finally call Tony.

Happy had refused to let you back off from the meeting. He didn’t understand how badly you had fucked up in there, your stuttering had been embarrassing and that wasn’t even the worst part of it.

Stupidly, you hadn’t expected him to be that handsome. You couldn’t stop staring and ended up making a fool of yourself by making him repeat his questions.

You could see him now through the glass wall of the meeting room, losing time by randomly selecting pages from the spiral-bound project he said he needed to inspect before giving you an answer.

To your luck, Damian caught you staring. Turning to your side to look at Happy, you found a teasing expression on the bodyguard’s face.

“I can take it from here if you want.”

Damian could hear the teasing in Tim’s voice. “Don’t make me punch you.” He didn’t take his eyes off the wall, you were talking, but the angle didn’t allow him to read your lips.

But when had Damian’s scare tactics stopped Tim? “You could just—“

“Don’t,” the interrupting warning came in a loud sneer. Damian lifted a finger so Tim wouldn’t say a damn thing.

Again, his brother ignored him. “Okay, I’ll ask her.”

Damian jumped off his seat, stopping the lankier man from crossing the room. “Don’t you dare, Drake.”

Tim rested both hands on Damian’s shoulders. “Read that thing, give the answer, then ask.” Seeing his younger brother’s expression, Tim added, “She’ll say yes.”

Watching his brother leave, Damian let out a huff. Your explanation had been enough for him to make a decision, and truly, from what he had read in passing, you had a way of making it sound less dull than it was.

Not that the project was dull in the slightest, but he didn’t have time to read every detail.

Damian gripped the document in his hand as he left the meeting room, approaching you personally. You stood up, looking up as he towered over you.

“Follow me, please.”

Nodding, not trusting your voice as the silkiness in which he uttered the word please resonated in your head, you followed him down the hallway.

He opened the door to his office for you. As you stepped in, you observed how normal the office was — it wasn’t bland like one would assume from someone who wears a black tie to work.

“I was wondering,” he started speaking, silky voice now more confident, “if you could stay in town for a couple of days.”

You stuttered, “I— I don’t think so.” You gained confidence when his blinking got quicker. “It would be pointless if you’re not interested in the project. I’m a busy person.”

Where did that lie come from? You spent your entire days between an office and a laboratory while your nights were full of complaining to yourself over someone you weren’t sure you could call an ex.

His brow twitched yet he stopped himself from frowning. “I am interested.”

“In that case, I could call my uncle and ask—“

Damian blurted, “Have dinner with me tonight.”

You had never attended a business dinner, what was one supposed to do or say? Weren’t those things for closing deals in terms of money?

You would’ve taken social studies more seriously if you knew one day your uncle would send you to convince a handsome guy to partner with you for a project.

God, that sounded more like high school drama than what it really was.

Telling him you didn’t have a clue as to what to do in such a situation couldn’t be more embarrassing than being caught ogling at him. It would be close, though.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

“Mmh?” You turned to look at him. Concern filled his gaze. He had such vivid eyes, the greenest you had ever seen; greener than you ever imagined nature from a fairytale could look. “Sorry,” you rasped, “I’m fine.”

He gave you a single nod, staring at you in expectancy of something. When you only stared back, he sighed, “I will prepare everything to be signed tomorrow morning if that’s fine with you.”

Tilting your head, you frowned. “I thought you just said I had to have dinner with you?”

“I was asking you out.”

Ah. Wow.

It wasn’t a good idea to say yes, your heart had just been broken. But he was handsome, and blunt enough to estate his intentions without fussing over your misunderstanding — you liked that.

“Did I read the situation wrong?”

“No,” you answered way too quickly. “Not at all.”

He smirked. “I will pick you up at 7, then.”

Happy was surprised by seeing you so flustered as you told him to drive you to the —Wayne owned— hotel you would be staying at.

Not daring to look at him, you asked Happy if he could help you find a dress quickly. You could hear the smile in his voice as he said yes.

In your eyes, there was no such thing as moving on too fast. And even if there was, this was a date and not the start of a relationship. You would allow yourself the pleasure of enjoying a handsome guy’s company, and if you found him unbearable you would just leave — Tony wouldn’t mind.

The last proper date you had been on had happened a long time ago, before you were out of college, if your memory served you right.

Being around someone your age, truly the same age, and not just part of your age range would be a nice change from hanging out with two 18-year-olds, people in their forties, and whatever age Bucky was.

At 6:59, a knock was bestowed upon the door of your hotel room.

“You look beautiful.” The compliment easily rolled off his tongue. It was hard not to believe him.

You bashfully said, “You look handsome.”

He grinned, offering his arm for you to take. He was a little too formal from what you were used to, yet you found it nice.

You understood why everyone followed his orders automatically. In part, it was their job, but it wasn’t yours and you too felt compelled to please him.

He looked different under the soft light, calmer. More handsome. His voice was impossibly smoother as he told you about himself.

All his attention was on you when it was your turn to tell him about yourself. He would encourage you to continue speaking, more comfortable with hearing you than with speaking himself.

You wished you would’ve found Damian unbearable. He surely had flaws, you weren’t one for expecting perfection in people, it was just damn hard to find him one and you liked it, what a nice illusion to part with.

“I will see you tomorrow morning,” he reminded you as if reading your mind, eyes on your mouth as he swallowed harshly.

You bit your bottom lip as you nodded. “Good night.”

Damian left, albeit reluctantly, happier than he thought he would be. Bruce would kill him for skipping patrol, but it had been worth it.

He would let the fact that Tim had been right slide this once.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Feeling like a teenager with a crush again, you tried really hard to keep yourself from whining as you left Gotham. Wanting to stay was childish, you didn’t really know the city nor Damian.

New York was home, your mother lived there, your uncle and friends too. And you were being a little dramatic, to be completely honest.

“How did it go?” Tony asked, throwing his arm around you as he guided you toward the living room.

“It went great.”

“More than great, I would say,” Happy chipped in from behind you.

You whined lowly, hoping he wouldn’t embarrass you. The date had been nice, but it was naive to think something would come out of it when you didn’t live in the same state. You would rather keep that night to yourself.

Pepper smiled. “Tim is a sweetheart, isn’t he?”

Happy hummed, turning around before he would burst out laughing.

Peter saved you from embarrassment, telling you he had a project for you and Ned to help him with. Projects with Peter were always something to behold, they could go from the most anticlimactic thing to testing his constantly improving web fluid formula.

This project, though, was a nightmare. He had the brilliant idea of sewing a teddy bear for MJ. From scratch. By hand. With his own design.

Sat on your office, surrounded by scraps of fabric and tiny strands of thread, tired of stabbing your self while sewing, you told Peter, “I don’t understand why can’t you just use Tony’s credit card to buy her something.”

“Or use a sewing machine,” Ned pointed out.

“It’s more romantic this way. MJ will appreciate it more.”

Ned and you hummed. If you hadn’t known how much Peter liked her, you would’ve given up already.

The door was almost kicked open. Happy entered the office, or at least you thought it was him due to the man’s height, his face and torso were covered by a gigantic flower arrangement that he put down on your desk as quickly as he could let it down without shattering the vase.

“Happy,” Peter screeched, “that’s fabric!”

“Peter, these things are heavy!” Happy mirrored the tone.

You rolled your eyes. “This isn’t Pepper’s office, though.”

Happy snickered. “These are for you, genius.”

Glaring at him, you waited for him to crack. But Happy never did. He snatched the card from on top of the arrangement. “Do you want me to read it out loud?”

“No!” You screeched, extending your hand.

Happy continued nagging you, “Should I use the monotonous voice and all?” He unfolded the thick paper. “Oh, it’s handwritten!”

Your face was burning up. You wanted the chair to swallow you as Happy read, “‘Thank you, again, for an amazing night. I hope to see you soon.’ Signed by Damian Wayne.”

“Couldn’t he text you that?”

Ned defended the stranger, “It’s more romantic this way, Peter. I thought you were an expert in romance now.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Peter dropped his needle. “You went out with Damian Wayne?”

You only nodded.

“Good thing you weren’t interested in dating anymore...”

Grabbing the pillow behind your back, you threw it at Ned. “Shut up!”

Peter giggled, picking a pillow from the couch and throwing it at you. Ned threw the one you had hit him with at Peter and soon the three of you were laughing historically.

Your cellphone buzzed. With a flipping stomach, as your laughter died down and tears ran down your cheeks, you looked at the screen.

I hope you like them.

Unlocking the device, you typed quickly. They’re lovely.

You bit the inside of your bottom lip, gnawing on it. Fuck it. I hope to see you soon, too.

He replied immediately. You will.

You couldn’t wait.

But you had to. After a few more days of exchanging text messages, he had let you know he would be out of the country for a while. You had hoped to see him at your birthday party but alas.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Every few minutes, you were introduced to people whose names you had forgotten already as the guests continued to arrive.

The number of people in the venue was excessive when none of them really knew you. It was strange, being the center of attention when people wouldn’t have cared if you weren’t Tony Stark’s niece.

Pepper had warned you about it, she had said you shouldn’t take it personally. You would’ve had done so on any other occasion, but you were too busy staring at Sharon and Bucky.

Never in a million years would you imagine he would have the nerve of openly displaying his affection toward someone else in front of you. Yet there he was, all over her at your birthday party.

You stuck close to Tony and Pepper for the most part, only straying away when the conversation wasn’t something of your incumbency.

Everyone was seemingly enjoying themselves, Sam had convinced you of dancing with him just so he could ask if you were having fun. Then Peter and MJ did something similar but it didn’t feel the same, they were worried about you which meant you weren’t doing a good job at hiding that you wished you didn’t have to be there.

The contrast between what you had expected your birthday party to be throughout the past weeks to what it truly was had to be one of the most jarring experiences of your life.

Your plans had changed twice, your expectations three times, and your excitement had exponentially lowered as the day arrived.

Pepper pinched your shoulder. “Tony wants to introduce you to some people.”

Following her steps was a skill you hadn’t mastered yet, much less in the uncomfortable shoes Nat had chosen for you. Next time, you needed to remind her you weren’t a skilled spy who could kick ass in any type of shoe.

“The birthday girl!”

“Hi, uncle.”

“Darling, meet Bruce and Damian Wayne.” The sarcasm in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

You shook hands with Bruce Wayne first, he was as handsome as every photograph of him you had seen made him out to be. He smiled at you as he wished you a happy birthday, adding a nonchalant, “I’ve heard wonders about you.”

Damian’s hands were warmer than his father’s, and instead of smiling at you as he wished you happy birthday, he fixed his eyes on yours, gluing you to your spot.

He then winked, trying his hardest to hide the smug smile wanting to break through his face.

You wouldn’t have stopped staring if your life depended on it. Photographs would never make him justice, he was taller than he looked in them, much more handsome — equally intimidating yet photographs portrayed him as stuck up while having him in front of you had made you find him alluring from the first time.

“Introduce Damian to Peter, will you?”

You nodded in response to Tony’s question. Your surroundings stirred as you were left alone with Damian, with his hand still encapsulating yours.

After a pause, wishing he wouldn’t drop your hand, you asked him if he wanted a drink. Introducing him to Peter could wait.

“Of course,” he answered, sliding his warm palm off yours and motioning with it for you to lead the way.

Sharon and Bucky were at the bar. He had his hand on her hip as they whispered in each other’s ear. You caught her eye, you and your companion, and she winked at you while resting her chin on Bucky’s shoulder.

Smiling at her, you stood closer to Damian. You both ordered your drinks, and he leaned on his elbow against the wooden bar to face you.

“So, why a public party for your first birthday as part of the family?”

You chuckled. “My uncle insisted, and it was a good chance to get introductions out of the way.”

“Can’t say I disagree.”

You confessed, “I thought you wouldn’t be able to come.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world.”

Behind you, James got louder, “We should go to the beach again, babe.”

Sharon giggled at her boyfriend’s faux-drunk antics. “Don’t yell, baby, you’ll give (Y/N) an ear-bleed.”

You could tell he turned around when he put his hand on your shoulder. “Hi, (Y/N).”

Only craning your neck to not give Damian the impression that you were impolite, you greeted, “Hi, James.”

You enjoyed his expression every time you called him James. The only person who found it funnier than you was Sam. Everyone else found it normal, you supposedly weren’t familiar with him.

You wished that was the case. Not because you missed him or because he hurt you — it would be nice to not feel tense around the others.

Natasha would pick up on it soon if you continued to tense up when he entered a room next to Sharon and you weren’t ready to come to terms with that. You didn’t know what you would say to Sharon in the first place.

“Here,” Damian’s smooth voice interrupted your train of thought. As you looked to the front again, you found your cocktail being offered to you.

You took the glass, thanking him. “We should move away from here.”

Humming, Damian lifted both eyebrows. His eyes dropped to your shoulder and James’ hand was withdrawn instantly.

“Enjoy your night, doll.”

You wanted to scream at him for calling you that, for still seeking some kind of reaction from you.

Walking past Sharon and her boyfriend, you took a sip of your drink. You would’ve drunk it in one go if you weren’t trying to impress your companion.

The terrace, empty due to the fact that everyone was busy dancing, welcomed you with a burst of crisp air.

“You looked uncomfortable,” Damian said casually.

“I am not used to these things.”

He took a gulp of alcohol. “Are you always that bothered by your uncle’s colleagues?”

If only he knew...

Seeing Sharon happy was nice, though. According to Nat, she had closed off after things with Steve didn’t work out. James must’ve been patient with her, at least you hoped he had been.

You made a pause, one you wished had been longer. “Would it offend you if I changed the topic?”

“No.”

Silence settled between you. Finding things to say had never been easy for you. The fact that he was gorgeous didn’t help your case. Tony should’ve taught you how to flirt instead of sending you irrelevant files before the party.

Damian didn’t look displeased by it. You finished your drink before he did, you were the one gripping the railway. He was close enough for you to feel the heat his body radiated, but he made no move to touch you.

He stared, though. You were trying your hardest to keep yourself from staring back. There was only so much you could focus on that would be more pleasing than his pretty face.

Offering him another drink would ruin this, and not saying anything would make you appear uninterested. You would’ve gotten drunk earlier if you knew he would be back in time for your birthday.

It had been so easy with James. After fixing his arm, he had interpreted your giggles correctly and kissed you. That was it, no flirting or small talk.

“It’ll start raining soon.”

The starless sky proved him right. In an almost comedic way, the sky rumbled just as the words left his mouth.

“Do you want to go back inside?”

He shrugged. “Do you?”

Your eyes met his again. The kink of his eyebrow told you he was waiting for an answer, but you didn’t have one. You would happily stay there, staring into the green vastness of his eyes, come rain or not.

Damian moved closer to you. Expensive cologne awakened your senses, relatively meaningless in comparison to the goosebumps his touch ignited. His hand, firm yet light, rested on your arm as he reached for his drink.

Envious of the glass, you stopped blinking to not lose detail — his full lips trapped the rim of the glass as he gulped the liquid down. Damian put the glass to the side, giving you a full look at his Adam’s Apple bobbing.

Your hand came up to wipe the corner of his mouth, where a drop of alcohol lingered. Damian lightly shifted, lips brushing your thumb as he did so.

You found yourself tracing his bottom lip with your thumb, wondering if it would feel as soft against your own.

He placed his free hand on your waist, gaze on your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t have to ask,” you whispered.

Your eager tone encouraged him to dive in. He hummed, tasting the sweetness of the cocktail you had been drinking. His lips were as soft as you had expected, touch heavier on your waist.

The sky rumbled again and he broke the kiss way too early. “We should get back inside.”

You felt eyes on you as Damian and you walked toward the bar once again. His hand was firm on your lower back, this time not shying away from touching you or from uttering comments instead of meaningless questions.

From your spot, you could see a few of your friends. Sam was flirting with one of Pepper’s friends, Nat and Carol were competing over who could handle alcohol better, and Tony was crying out of laughter next to Rhodey.

In front of you, Damian was gazing intently at you again.

“Is there something on my face?”

“Pretty features.”

You tried not to smile but the rush in the pit of your stomach failed and betrayed you. He was so pleased with your reaction, smiling back as he fixed his eyes on your mouth.

You gazed at him, placing your hand on his bicep to boldly ask, “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Damian finished his drink in a single gulp, opening his palm for you to take. “Wherever you want.”

With your purse on your lap and his hand brushing your thigh, you went through the drive in complete silence.

You thanked the driver, inwardly also thankful over the fact that they weren’t Happy. You wouldn’t have heard the end of his teasing.

Unlocking the door, you pushed it open and let Damian in first. The lights turned themselves on as he crossed the doorway.

You motioned for him to get comfortable. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“Later,” he dismissed the offer, cupping your face with both hands as he leaned to kiss you.

Kissing him back, grabbing him by the neck, you tickled his mouth open. Damian granted your tongue access in less than a second, moving one of his hands to the nape of your head to eventually place it on your back and pull you close.

His hand brushed the zipper of your dress, fingers playing with it as he deepened the kiss. You hummed on his mouth, sliding your hands to his shoulders in order to push his blazer off.

He groaned as he had to part from you to discard the blazer completely, throwing it to the reading chair closest to him.

Grabbing you by the hips, he playfully bit down your bottom lip. You glared at him through your eyelashes; it only made him smirk.

“Did the birthday girl expect something else?”

Fuck. You hadn’t expected his voice to get deeper. Nodding, you took the collar of his shirt between your fingers.

“Take it off if you want,” he gave you his permission lowly, eyes on yours as he uttered the words.

You hesitated. He would expect permission to take your dress off too, and although you were dying to have his hands on you with nothing in between, you couldn’t remember the last time someone had seen your body.

Damian made no movement to pressure you nor to move away from you. He just waited, with his lips pursed and hands steadily on your waist.

You undid his tie first, just enough to pull it over his head. His knuckles traced your spine while you worked on his shirt, easing your nerves up.

Unbuttoning his shirt took you a little longer than you would’ve liked, you had been in high school the last time you had to do that for someone else and you couldn’t even remember their face by now.

You tugged on his belt, looking at him in search of permission. Damian nodded, immediately looking down at your hands as they unbuckled his belt.

You pulled the shirt out of his pants, pushing it then off his shoulders in the same way you did with his blazer. You traced his chest, firm, and littered with birthmarks and a few scars.

His broad shoulders were the same, and his taunt abdomen had bigger scars. You would’ve asked about them if you weren’t eager to lick them.

He pulled you into a searing kiss, mouth hot and heavy on yours while his hands wandered down to your ass. Feeling you huff through your nose, he moved his lips to your neck to give you space to breathe.

You let out a sigh, feeling him inch up the skirt of your dress. Damian sucked on your neck, leaving a wet trail towards the exposed part of your chest.

You whispered his name. He shivered, lifting his head. Taking him by the hand, you guided him to your bedroom. The lights turned on automatically, illuminating the vast room.

Kissing him again, you pushed your body flush against his. Damian gripped your thighs, unintentionally grinding against you.

“You’re so hot,” you blurted, hiding your face in his neck to suck on it.

He tilted his head to give you further access to his skin as he searched for your zipper. When he found it, he pulled it down slowly in case you would protest.

You were too busy tasting his skin to really care anymore. Your teeth scraped his Adam’s apple, making him let out the sweetest sound you had heard.

Goosebumps ignited your skin as he dragged his hand over your bareback. He groaned, realizing you weren’t wearing a bra.

Stepping out of the dress looking over your ankles, you bent over to pick the item up and threw it onto your vanity chair.

You found lust-filled eyes checking you out and fuck if having Damian Wayne looking at you like he wanted to eat you a confidence boost.

His palms brushed the sides of your breasts, thumbs close to your nipples, only teasing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out, nose brushing your cheek.

He nibbled on your pulse point, making you moan. Your hands again explored his chest, this time following the marks of his abs too. Reaching the waistband of his pants, you finally popped the button open.

Dragging his zipper down, you felt his semi-hard cock twitch due to the contact. He hissed, blowing air on the small bites he had peppered over your neck.

He moved to the side to discard his shoes, socks, and pants. You freed your feet from the heels, now remembering how uncomfortable they had been seconds before you met Damian.

He rubbed against your ass, wrapping an arm around you from behind. His teeth grazed your ear, free hand exploring your body painfully slowly.

You ground against him, desperate for something more. He chuckled on your ear, cupping your clothed pussy.

Whining as he pressed his thumb as deep as your panties would allow him, you craned your neck to kiss him.

Damian dragged the hand on your belly upward to cup one of your breasts, pinching your nipple. He swallowed your moan while kissing you.

You twisted one of your hands, reaching for his thigh. As you inched your hand closer to his cock, you felt his breath hitch.

From on top of his underwear, you palmed his cock. You struggled to put your hand under the cotton material, and when you finally did, both of you groaned.

Enveloping the base with your fingers, you moved your hand up and down, using your thumb to apply pressure when needed.

“Wait,” he rasped. “You first, it’s your birthday.”

“What if I want to make you come for my birthday?”

His cock pulsed in your hand at the question.

Turning around with the intention of pulling his underwear down, you briefly let his cock go.

He kicked the boxers to the side, swallowing thickly when you grabbed his cock freely now. The movements of your hand were more enthusiastic, thumb circling his tip.

Biting his bottom lip, he fixed his eyes on your hand and its rhythm. You tapped his tip, bringing a string of pre-cum as you lifted your thumb.

He hissed, you smiled. Tightening your fist around him, you searched for his expression to make sure he was okay with the amount of pressure. Damian closed his eyes, sighing out.

You slid down to the floor, sinking to your knees. Holding his cock still, you licked the pre-cum off his tip.

Damian’s eyes flew open. His hand came down to hold your face. The gesture encouraged you to suck on his tip. He chocked on a hum when you pushed your head down, taking as much of him as you were able.

“Shit, (Y/N).”

You hummed, feeling yourself getting wetter. Using your hand, you fisted his shaft, bringing your fist upward as your mouth withdrew from him and moving it down as you took him in your mouth again.

His sounds got louder as you found a rhythm, and the bobbing of your head along the twisting of your hand got quicker as his cock throbbed on your tongue and fingers.

You hadn’t lied when you said you wanted to make him come, you needed to know you could please him that way.

You sucked more harshly. He reacted by moaning so loud it rumbled like thunder, hand holding your head by the neck as you sucked harder and harder.

Slurping sounds filled the room, and when Damian thought there was no way things could get better as he watched his cock enter and leave your mouth, you made eye contact with him.

All fucking night you had gazed at him through your lashes, every fucking time it had gone straight to his cock. The difference was that this once around you had him panting.

You continued sucking as he came, bringing your hand to massage his balls while gulping. He cried out your name, fingers digging on your jugular.

Feeling him get soft on your tongue, you pulled away but not before giving his tip another lick.

You placed your hands on his heaving chest, leaving small kisses on his jaw, meanwhile he recovered his breath. He had broken into a sweat, his damp skin glistened under the light.

Damian walked you back onto the bed, hovering over you.

He gave you a short kiss, still trying to even his breathing. He then attached his lips to your neck, kissing his way down your chest. Making a stop there, he sucked on each of your breasts.

Dragging his lips down your torso, he took the time to kiss the stretch marks littered there. When he reached your navel, he gazed up in search of permission.

“Go ahead,” you gave your consent.

He slid your panties off in a swift motion. His thumb brushed your clit while his index and middle finger prodded your entrance.

Not able to hide his smirk, he collected some of your wetness only to bring his fingers to his mouth. You squirmed, watching as he licked his fingers clean.

Damian latched his mouth onto your clit, making you squeal in surprise. Your hand fell onto his head, gripping his hair tightly.

He introduced his fingers to your pussy again, curling them up as he sucked on your clit. Your hips jerked upward, almost bucking although you were able to control yourself.

He was having none of it. Using his tongue, Damian alternated between sucking and licking while his fingers stretched you as he scissored you.

You draped your unoccupied arm over your face, biting down your forearm.

Speaking against your clit, he ordered, “Don’t. I like hearing you.”

Unconsciously, you let out a sob and grabbed his hair with both hands. Pushing him further in between your thighs, you could feel his nose brush your labia.

Writhing under him, you tried your hardest to not press your thighs together. Damian took his fingers out to help you, gripping your thighs with both hands to hold them open.

He ate you out like he had been born to do it, loudly and messily. His tongue didn’t leave a centimeter unexplored, he lapped and licked until he had you crying out his name.

And he didn’t stop when it got too much and your thighs shook in his grip, instead, he increased his rhythm.

You had never had someone drink your juices like a dehydrated animal yet there he was, licking you up clean.

Damian peppered kisses over your thighs, grip around them barely loosening. You were seeing white, hearing his breathing, and feeling his soft lips against you with an intensity you weren’t sure if it was natural from him or not.

Sliding a hand down the side of his head to cup his cheek, you beckoned him back up. Damian obliged, fitting himself between your legs.

“Are you alright?”

You hummed, leaning upward to kiss him. His tongue slid into your mouth, and as he ground against you, his hard-on became palpable. You bucked your hips up, smiling when he groaned into the kiss.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

He filled you to the brim by shoving his cock inside you all at once, making you grab him by the biceps. He was snug inside you, and the fact prompted you to clench around him.

God, you had had intercourse like five weeks ago and yet you felt like this was the first time you were fucked in years.

“You feel so good,” he praised in a low voice.

You moaned and his cock twitched inside you. Damian threw patience out of the window, thrusting shallowly.

He grabbed your hands and pinned them to your sides. You stayed still for a moment until he intertwined his fingers with yours.

His eyes, so dark you swore they could swallow you, were on you. Just on you, not on the headboard, or the wall, or the ceiling. They were on you, he was ramming into you because he wanted you.

You cried out — his name, a string of curses, something you couldn’t even understand. And he ate it up, he relished on every sound and expression. You felt it in his strong grip and deep thrusts, heard it in his own moans, he loved the effect he was having on you; it stroked his ego, and fuck if it didn’t tip you to the edge.

“I wanna come,” you whined.

“Nobody’s stopping you,” he promised through heavy breathing to then kiss your jaw. “Please, come for me.”

You did. He asked oh so nicely, with hot breath on your skin and relentless thrusts. You couldn’t not do it even if you tried, how could you disappoint him?

It was the second time he had you trembling, and you hoped it wouldn’t be the last. You wanted him closer, yet there wasn’t a way for him to be closer to you than with the tip of his cock crushing your g-spot.

His strings of cum were as welcome as everything he had to offer, heavy and hot. Feeling him all around you was like a distant dream. His hot cum and pulsating cock weren’t even the best part.

You woke up to a warm bed, between strong arms. Fingers traced your side, stopping at every curve and lump.

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes were vibrant green eyes already analyzing your face. You had forgotten how bright his eyes were.

Damian’s skin glowed in the morning light, cheekbones only more prominent from your angle.

“Is there something on my face?” He teased you.

“Handsome features,” you teased him back.

Huffing a laugh, he brushed your hair off your face. “You’re gorgeous.”

You held his gaze. “I’m afraid there’s no compliment you haven’t heard before.”

“They sound better coming from you.”

“You’re a real charmer, huh.”

“I’m trying.”

You leaned onto him, not really sure as to what to say now. Feeling the shake of his shoulder as he laughed, you couldn’t help but laugh too.

“What are we laughing at?”

“I had meticulously planned how slow we would take this and now you’ve got me naked in your bed after our second date.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

His arm tightened around you, pulling you even closer. “Of course not. I like you.”

“I like you too.” You kissed the scar he had on his shoulder, and the one on the crook of his neck, and the almost faded mark under his jaw. “Will you ever tell me about your scars?”

He hummed, “But not today. It’s your birthday, we should talk happy things.”

“It isn’t my birthday anymore.”

“Birthday weekend,” he clarified.

He left the bed for a moment, going through the pockets of his pants. You pouted at him. Chuckling, he approached the mattress again, phone in hand.

Giving you a short kiss, Damian placed his free hand on the back of your head as he guided you to lay on his chest.

“Is there anything you would like to do today?”

You considered the question. “I don’t know. I haven’t had a free weekend in a long time.”

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Your ‘birthday weekend’ officially started with waiting for him outside a changing room. He needed to buy clothes for the weekend, arguing that it would be stupid to go around the rainy city in a tuxedo.

“Did you really have to buy another watch?”

He defended the splurge, “This one is more casual.”

Pursing your lips in attempts of keeping your laugh in, you nodded. Damian pried your fingers open to fit his own between yours, squeezing them once in a teasing manner.

You looked down at your connected hands, marveled by the fact that he was willing to show he was dating you.

Spending the weekends together became the norm, he kept clothes and his favorite self-care products at your place, he already knew the house and sauntered around it like he owned it too.

A particular Friday, you bumped into Sharon and Nat in the elevator. Nat pushed the button that would take you to the first floor as Sharon asked, “Do you want to go to the baseball game with us?”

You smiled at her. “Next time, yeah?”

“You’re busy tonight?”

You nodded, shifting your coat to drape over your other forearm.

“Got a hot date?” Sharon lightly elbowed you on the side.

A nervous giggle escaped you, “I do.”

The doors slid open and you stepped out first. You didn’t mind their company, you just liked your boyfriend’s more.

Peter was talking to James near the entrance hall, nodding enthusiastically. He caught your eye and waved at you past Peter’s shoulder.

As you had to approach them to leave the building, you wished them both a good night and continued your path.

Avoiding James had been extremely hard throughout the weeks, he tried talking to you a few times and every time you found an excuse more ridiculous than the last.

The shower in your bedroom was running, meaning Damian was there already. You changed your clothes in the meantime, happy to finally be in comfortable clothes and away from The Compound.

You were plugging your cellphone in when the bathroom door was loudly unlocked.

Damian struggled to fit his arm in a sling, groaning in frustration. Approaching him, you moved his healthy hand away from his arm and did it yourself.

He nodded at you as a thankful gesture.

“Are you telling me what happened to you?” your question was soft-spoken.

“I got in a fight.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You? A fight?”

“You should get used to it.”

Looking up at his towering figure, staring directly into his eyes, you actually glowered at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He extended his hand for you to take, fingers open, expecting yours to find their place between them. You shook your head.

“Why are you mad?”

“Really? Are you that dense?”

He mimicked your tone, “Are you that worried?”

“Of course I am worried, Damian! If you don’t want me to worry about y—“ you stopped yourself when his hand brushed your forearm.

“I never said that,” his voice lowered, “I simply asked.”

Sliding his hand down to press his palm against your own, fingers caressing yours, he intertwined them like he had missed doing the entire week.

You murmured, “Could you at least not get injured too often?”

His face softened, and just then you observed how swollen it was.

“I have something to tell you,” he sighed, briefly looking at his feet before nodding to himself. Completely lifting his head, he continued, “I shouldn’t say it now, but I don’t feel comfortable with you not knowing...”

“What did you do?”

“I am Robin.”

Of course you had fallen for a secret vigilante. That was your luck, your boyfriend lived miles away from you and spent his nights punching people in the face. It was a better secret identity than the ones other rich people tended to have, you would give him that.

One more worry to have on your shoulders.

“Why are you so tense? I’ve already promised to be careful.”

“Long week,” you mumbled. Eager to change the subject, you asked, “Are you hungry?”

“I ordered food a few minutes ago.”

Humming, you let his hand go in order to sit on the bed, stretching your legs.

“Habibti, what is going on?”

He knew what he was doing by using the petname. He sat on the bed too, letting enough space between you to look at you properly.

“Sharon and Nat invited me to go out with them tonight and I feel bad. Like really bad,” you confided him.

“You can go if you want.”

“It’s not that... Forget about it, yeah? It’s not worth it.”

“You’re upset, that means it’s important to you.”

“Don’t get mad,” you warned him.

“Well, now I’m worried.”

“Before meeting you,” you clarified before saying anything else, “I had a... fling... with Sharon’s boyfriend.”

He hummed, encouraging you to go on.

“But I think they were dating already. I don’t know... their relationship was secret and—“ you groaned. It was so pathetic. “Whatever I had with him was secret too.”

“And you want to tell her.”

You twisted your mouth upward as you nodded. “Is it a good idea?”

Damian nodded slowly. He threw his healthy arm around your shoulders, placing his hand on your farthest arm. “You would like her to tell you if it was the other way around,” he asserted, “so I believe it’s only fair for you to do it.”

Inhaling his body wash, you nuzzled against his bare shoulder as carefully as possible, afraid of hurting him. The ability he had to make you feel safe was astounding.

He changed the subject, sensing you were done with the topic. “Do you want me to tell you about my scars now?”

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

You had been seconds away from also telling Tony about what you once had with James just you wouldn’t be forced to fix his arm. Ultimately, you stayed quiet because Pepper had an appointment with the gynecologist and Tony wanted to be there with her.

You were regretting not leaving after they had. He had attempted to make small talk a few times, as if it was normal to talk to the person you cheated on about the weather.

He then started to get into your nerves. “How long do you think your boy toy can keep up?”

You ignored him, tightening the arm the way you had seen Tony do many times.

He continued taunting you, “He has to drive for what? Two hours? Or summon a helicopter just to see you. Sounds like too much trouble.”

Setting your jaw, you moved away from him. “Your arm is done.”

He stood up, following your movements. “Have you fucked him yet?”

You glared at him for asking such inappropriate questions. He trapped you between his bulk and the wall, breathing on your face. You moved your head to the side. “It’s none of your business.”

James placed his hands on your thick waist. “That’s a no, then,” he mumbled, lips grazing your cheek.

You could only think about those photos and how he had rested his hands on Sharon in the same fashion, of Damian’s hands and how different they felt on you — warm, firm, heavy but never burdening. You pushed James’ flesh hand away from you.

His metal hand dropped to your hip where he gripped tight so you wouldn’t move. “We both know he’s just a rebound, (Y/N). You miss me.”

“You have a girlfriend and I have a boyfriend. Please, move.”

“Sharon broke up with me.”

You had assumed she wouldn’t. After your talk with her, she said she would have a discussion with him. She hadn’t been angry at you so you had thought she just didn’t care.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I have a boyfriend.”

Resting his weight on you, he chuckled. “You don’t mean it. You love me, it’s obvious.”

“I’m going to scream if you don’t move,” you threatened.

Moving his flesh hand upward, he wrapped it around your neck. “Just admit it.”

“Please, move,” you begged him.

He covered your mouth with his hand instead of choking you, applying pressure as you tried to exhale against his skin. “You always have to make things difficult. Talking all the time, making noises... How many times didn’t you almost give it away because you couldn’t keep your eyes off me?”

Tears ran down your eyes and he let go of you immediately, hurt all over his face as you tumbled your way out of the lab.

Locking yourself in your office, you let out a sob, unable to contain whatever it was you were feeling.

What if James was right and your relationship with Damian was doomed?

You couldn’t even ask him his opinion at the moment, he was out of the country due to a mission and the little contact you had wouldn’t give you time to talk about such things with him.

Besides, you didn’t want him to break up with you through text. You didn’t want to break up, period.

And fuck, you missed him. And missing him was... different. Everything that had to do with him was.

When you missed your mom, you felt the sadness of a child on their first day of school, desperate to cling onto their mother’s leg.

Missing your dad was absurd, it only came in waves that crashed against everything you stood for, against everything you had gone through; it was bitter, raw, merely wishful thinking in the form of what-ifs.

Longing for Bucky’s touch had been, surely, the stupidest form of missing someone. At the time it had been inoffensive, now it was only a bad memory.

The way you missed Damian, though, with the hopeful yearning for the bliss only his laugh had ever brought you, and the craving of shared silent moments that often culminated in kisses... it felt like missing someone for the first time.

Stark Industries was a better place to spend your time than the laboratory when Tony wouldn’t be there either. Bruce usually could do things by himself and often preferred it.

You were informed that you had a visitor. Allowing however it was to come in, you felt your heart skip a beat when Damian closed the door behind him.

He smiled at you, observing the smile you gave him back didn’t reach your usually lively eyes.

Damian snaked an arm around you, placing his hand on your hip. You hissed, prompting him to withdraw his hand. “Did you have an accident?”

Not giving him an answer, you leaned onto his shoulder so he wouldn’t think he couldn’t touch you. In fact, you needed him to do it, desperately.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just... can you hug me?”

Anyone else would’ve repeated the question, with the intentions of helping most likely, but Damian wasn’t like other people. He wrapped an arm around you at the height of your waist while his other hand rested on your upper back.

You hugged yourself to his torso, eventually sliding your arms under his armpits in order to have him closer.

He didn’t ask anything, he didn’t try to pull away quickly or to make up an excuse to leave. Damian just held you, more than content with giving you the comfort you were seeking.

You heard the door being opened again. Tony had the tendency of not knocking. If your door was unlocked, it meant he could enter and retrieve whatever he wanted from your office.

You expected Damian to part from you. Although a little uncomfortable due to the lack of privacy, he didn’t. He stared at Tony, as if daring him to tease either of you.

Tony tried to keep a chuckle in. “I’m sorry to interrupt you lovebirds. I updated your Starkpad, (Y/N). I left a few instructions for the week there.”

You parted from Damian reluctantly, avoiding his eyes as you took the pad from Tony’s hands. “Will you be out of town this week?”

Your uncle nodded. “Pep wants to visit her family and who am I to deny her?”

You almost smiled. Tony kissed your forehead, patting Damian’s shoulder on his way out.

“I’m sorry about tha—“

Damian cut off your explanation, “It’s not your fault.”

You nodded, placing the new pad Tony had given you on the desk. Damian cupped your cheek, caressing it with his thumb.

Leaning into his touch, you nuzzled your face against his palm. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Does visiting me bother you?”

His face turned serious as he frowned. “Where did you get that from?”

You shrugged, avoiding his eyes again.

“It would be nice to have you closer, I can admit that, but some selfish reasons are at play there.”

“That wasn’t the question, Damian.”

“It doesn’t bother me. I simply wish I could see you every day.” He made a pause, then continued, “That’s new to me, I’ve never minded being alone or having piles of work to do.”

“Why would that be selfish?”

He was the one who avoided your face this time, looking at the light being reflected on the screen of the pad. “It’s not. But I also don’t like the way Barnes looks at you, for example.”

“Because of my history with him?”

Damian corrected you, “Because he’s geographically closer. And sometimes I would prefer to be the only one who ogles at my girlfriend. Seeing as I can’t stop people from staring, I never complain.”

You took his hands, intertwining your fingers with his. He smiled softly.

“I only have eyes for you.”

Damian’s lips enveloped yours. He kissed you softly, tenderly as he slid one of his hands off yours to hold your face again. You rested your free hand on his waist, angling your head.

Brushing your lips with his, he whispered, “And I only have eyes for you.”

This time the smile you gave him did fill your eyes.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

You felt nauseous. You were doing a shitty job at keeping your nerves at bay for the first time in many months.

You chugged down a glass of water in one go, sighing out through your nose. Then you refilled the glass and gulped down some more liquid.

Sharon stretched to reach for a glass herself, softly calling your name. “Are you falling sick?”

Oh, God. This would be extremely awkward. You weren’t avoiding her per se, there was no real reason to do it, but you definitely would find ways to not be around her.

If only your mom wasn’t busy with work...

Refilling the glass, you took it with you and sat down on your usual seat around the table. “Have you ever met a partner’s family?”

You almost said ‘James’ but that would have been disrespectful to both of them, and you actively avoided mentioning him in general.

Taken aback, Sharon rounded the table to sit down in front of you. “A long time ago. I don’t think it’s thaaaaat common anymore. Why?”

“Damian wants me to meet his mom.”

“You don’t know his family?”

Lifting the glass, you drank a small sip of water. “I’ve met everyone but her, and she’s visiting soon.”

She hummed, opening his takeout plate. “You don’t want to meet her?”

“I don’t think I can impress her.”

Picking her fork up, she moved it around so you would go on.

You stayed silent, however. There wasn’t much to explain there, everything you knew about his mom terrified you.

“Has he met your mom?”

“Yes.”

“Does your mom like him?”

“Yeah, they get along well. B—But this is different. Like... from what I’ve heard his mom has super high standards. I’m going to fuck it up, Sharon! And I’m really into him!”

She shook her head, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “No, you won’t. How many times hasn’t Pepper complained about him specifically?”

“A lot.”

“And you charmed him! You got the difficult one of the family wrapped around your finger already.”

“Damian isn’t difficult,” you defended him, “people just aren’t willing to give him a chance.”

She smiled at you, humming. Instead of teasing you, she asked, “You know what you’ll wear?”

You shook your head. “He said something casual would be fine. It’s just lunch according to him.”

“I’ll help you.”

You were the shocked one this time. While never confirming it, you suspected she knew the truth about what happened — if that was the case and she still was willing to help, she was way nicer than you had initially imagined.

Damian approval of the outfit she helped you choose was encouraging, he said you looked beautiful in it just like Sharon had complimented you when you tried the item on.

When the day arrived, however, you were having second thoughts. He looked worried, tense even. You weren’t the only one who was having a bad feeling.

He gripped your hand tightly, fingers crushing yours as you walked into the restaurant together. You wanted to ask, for your sake obviously, but mostly because you had never seen him in such a state.

His mother's eyes, sharper than his, scanned you up and down. Damian rolled his shoulders beside you, making you feel the ripple of his muscles.

Sharon, while helpful, had been extremely wrong. This was definitely worse than Jason’s shock over the fact that there was someone who was willing to date Damian.

Damian had told you beforehand to be ready for an interrogation. He openly called it that which prepared you rather well. You didn’t stutter, or cowered under her intense gaze.

Talia didn’t make the comment you assumed she would, the one regarding your physical appearance. Instead, her critique was almost sound.

“You should date someone you have more things in common with, Damian.”

“You should get to knew her before coming to assumed conclusions.”

Talia glared at him. “You know what I mean.”

Damian glared back. “And you know I do not care.”

“I want what’s best for you.”

“Well, I love her, she makes me happy. What are you going to offer that is better than that?”

He said It oh so naturally, like it was ingrained in his vocabulary. There was no hesitance, the words weren’t tender either — the tone had been sharp, he was daring his mother after all.

And you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The drive toward his family’s lake-house, now so familiar after how many times you had visited, felt significantly longer than it was. Damian never drove in silence if the two of you were alone, and that was 99% always the case.

You were dying to say something, but what? Words would fall short, you couldn’t stop replaying how easily those three words had slid past his lips. Had he meant them or was he only being stubborn for the sake of fighting his mom?

He unlocked the front door, letting you in first.

You hadn’t attempted to cross the living room when his hands were already on you, burning your skin through the denim fabric. “You look amazing in these jeans.”

“Damia—“

He shut you up with a kiss, hands ghosting your sides as he tilted his head to barely deepen the kiss.

You broke the kiss begrudgingly, asking, “Can we talk?”

He grunted, leaning to hide his face in your neck.

You spoke either way. “I don’t want you to have a bad relationship with your mom because of me.”

Lips brushing your skin, breath giving you goosebumps, he tried to dissipate your worries, “She has attempted to murder me a couple of times, the relationship has always been complicated.”

“Oh, honey...”

“It’s fine.” He kissed his way up to your cheek. “It’s not your fault.”

“She’s your mom.”

“And you’re my girlfriend. If she really cares about me, she’ll understand.”

“Yeah,” your voice cracked, “b—“ he didn’t give you a chance to say anything else. He pressed you against the nearest wall and kissed you with as much passion as a human being could muster.

His strong hands were tightly gripping your waist, nose puffing air on your face as his mouth swallowed your sounds. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you gave in, pulling him closer with your forearm against his back.

Breathlessly dragging his mouth down to your neck again, he inhaled a lungful of air before sucking on the smooth skin. Your perfume filled his nostrils, making him hum as the vibration of your throat caused by a whimper was felt on his lips.

You said his name in a strangled voice, trying to keep a moan in. He hummed so you’d speak, moving to another spot on your neck to leave another love-bite. “We need to— fuck” His right hand had moved to your back and slipped downward to grope your ass.

He trailed kisses down the exposed part of your chest, sighing contently on your breasts. “We need to fuck?” he teased.

“We need to talk about what you said,” you were able to get the words out before moaning again when he bit down your neck only to soothe the sting with his tongue.

Humming, he searched for the hem of your blouse. “There’s nothing to talk about,” his lips touched your skin as he spoke, “I love you, she needs to get it through her head.”

You grabbed him by the neck. Damian allowed you to lift his head, gazing at you. Inching a hand up to rest it on his cheek, caressing his bottom lip, you told him, “I love you too.”

Turning his head, he kissed your palm. Moving lower, he kissed your wrist.

You cleared your throat. “What are you doing?”

He smiled on your wrist. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “I like your skin.”

You huffed a laugh. He moved both of you away from the wall, pulling you onto the couch.

You shifted in your seat, resting your legs on his lap. Damian placed his hand on your calf, absentmindedly rubbing circles on your clothed skin.

He slowly trailed his hand up, reaching your thigh. Breathing in, he searched for your eyes. “Are you staying today?”

You shook your head.

Damian huffed.

“Don’t get grumpy with me.”

He withdrew his hand, messing with his hair instead. Sitting up properly, you expected him to say he wasn’t mad, he often understood how busy you were throughout the week.

Instead, he decided to avoid your face while speaking, eyes on everything but you. “I meant the other part too, you make me really happy. I adore you, I want to spend more time you!”

“You will,” you promised, placing your hand on his thigh in assurance. “I have a lot of things on my plate right now, that’s not your fault, I know, but I’m doing my best.”

He dropped his hand on top of yours. You feared he would push it away, childishly so. Damian gave your hand a squeeze, lifting it off his lap to kiss your knuckles.

You smiled, puffing air out through your nose in relief. Feeling him smile against your hand, you allowed yourself to believe things would work out just fine.

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