#and legitimately it made me so excited to wake up every morning!!!

[owlwinter8]

Continuing my Astolat bookbinding collection, I bound Royal Flush by @astolat!! My favorite Game of Thrones fic, and one that's I've gone back to re-read more times than I can count!! I'm super happy with how this bind turned out; I had learned a lot in binding Heal Thyself that made binding this one much easier. Also have I mentioned that I've fallen in LOVE with holographic foil??? I've uploaded the cover/spine/back PNGs here! Feel free to use, though credit would be appreciated <3

[klaus-littlestwolf]

No Matter What- Aemond T.

Aemond is in love, and he refused to allow his nephew to have her. He will take her from Jacaerys by any means necessary.

Am I just going to keep writing my fics as if Season 2 didn’t happen at all?

Yeah…it’s very likely, yes🤣🤣

Also, for the person that DM’d me and asked if I have a name in mind for Y/n when I write for Aemond, yes. In my mind when I write, her name is Rhaella, I just think it’s the most beautiful Targaryen name I’ve heard. I also love Visenya but I feel it’s overused. The only other name I would potentially use would be Saera.

She was surprised by her Uncles attitude from the moment she first saw him again.

Y/n and Aemond had been best friends in their childhood. She had climbed onto the back of the Grey Ghost when she was only 5 years old (most people believing that the Dragon knew they were the same when it came to how shy and avoidant they were).

They hadn’t been close up until that point, only being 5 and 6 years old and both being outcasts among their family (though she almost preferred it that way). Y/n had offered to take Aemond with her flying one night after Aegon, Jace and Luke had ridiculed him again and he actually agreed, resting his hand on the nose of a dragon for the first time as Y/n calmed him. Climbing into the saddle and holding onto his niece had been awkward and a bit embarrassing until they were in the air and Aemond knew he was truly born for this.

From then on Y/n offered to take him with her quite often, always after their brothers had bullied one of them again. She comforted him, even once letting Aemond take the reigns and fly Ghost himself (which the pale dragon didn’t like at all sadly and only lasted a few moments), but the fact that she had done it meant the world to him. He promised to take Y/n with him on his dragon as soon as he mounts one, wanting desperately to impress her.

Aemond was Obsessed

Their friendship lasted like that for almost 4 years before that horrible night when Aemond was attacked by her brothers. He had been so excited to tell her about Vhagar, he had actually been running inside to wake her and take her flying like he promised when he was cut off.

She had held his hand from the moment she ran in, trying to comfort him as much as she was able until her mother pulled her away. Aemond raged when she was dragged away from his side but he was held down by Criston Cole from trying to take his Princess back, Daemon carrying the 9 year olds squirming body out and away from him.

As they all left the next morning he tried to find her, Rhaenyra glaring at him as he searched the courtyard and he knew her mother hadn’t let her come and say “goodbye”…that night was the last time he saw her for almost 9 years…

It was the worst thing Rhaenyra could have done. She had made her younger brother desperate, and desperate men do desperate things…he would have her back. No Matter What.

Aemond dreamed about nothing but his niece every single day after, determined to make her his despite the fact that her mother would never betroth her to him. He knew the only way he could make her his wife was to take her and make it the only option, Alicent would most definitely force their wedding very quickly rather than watch the only “legitimate” grandchild of her husband (other than his brother and sisters 3 children) carry a child unwed (as she was Daemons daughter “secretly” but could at least be passed off as not being Harwin Strongs).

When he finally saw her again he felt his breath stolen from his body, she was stunning, the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on. A women now, standing just shorter than Jace as she watched him in his training session with Cole. Aemond fought hard, determined to show her what he had become and he quickly ended the fight with his sword at his trainers throat.

‘Well done my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.’

Aemond rolled his eyes at that. ‘I don’t give a shit about tourneys…nephews. Have you come to train?’ He questioned, looking over the both of them before making eye contact with Y/n who blushed heavily as he did. ‘Niece. It is a pleasure to lay eyes on you again…and you are truly a sight to behold.’ He stepped closer, shoving himself between the Strongs to take her hand in his, lifting it to his lips and looking into her lovely purple eyes. Aemond was comforted to see no fear or disgust on her face, but her beautiful blush was something he wanted to see forever. ‘You are just as gorgeous as I imagined you to be.’ He whispered, leaning close to her ear.

‘Thank you Uncle. You have become ever more handsome, a man grown. The ladies must be fighting tooth and nail for your affections.’ She teased, however before he could respond and insist that he wanted no affections but her own, her bastard brother snatched her hand from his.

‘I would thank you to keep your hands to yourself Uncle, my betrothed should not be touched by anyone but me.’ Jace spoke with a smirk on his face. Anyone with eyes knew Aemond had always been in love with Y/n and his nephew was smug to be able to take any kind of happiness away from him as he always had done.

Aemond composed himself immediately, smiling down at him kindly but Jace could see the rage in his eye, the silent threat that he was giving being clear. ‘I suppose congratulations are in order then.’ And though he said it, he gave none before smiling at Y/n who was then pulled in the opposite direction and out of the courtyard.

‘I do not want to see him touching you again, do you understand me?’ Jace demanded as they got into the castle, Y/n pulling her hand from his angrily.

‘You are not yet my husband brother, don’t you dare order me as if you are. I still have plenty of time to tell mother I would rather be betrothed to anyone but you and that Baela can be Queen by your side one day. I am not an object for you to take possession of!’ And with that she stormed off, Aemond around the corner having heard the whole thing. He knew exactly how to get his girl to be his…though he doubted it would be hard with how his nephew treated his Queen.

‘You should be kinder to your future Queen-‘

‘She is mine, whether she likes it or not. I am to be the King one day, she cannot refuse me.’ Jace joked with Luke who snorted, Aemond turning and leaving the hall. Y/n was his future wife, no matter what he had to do to make sure of it.

After the horrific meeting to attempt to give Driftmark to anyone but Luke he was sadly reestablished as heir thanks to the King and Aemond found himself in a bit of trouble with everyone at dinner after calling his nephews Strong.

All of them were sent to their chambers and he hightailed it back to her chamber, slipping in before his niece and her guard arrived, hiding behind the wardrobe in case anyone came in with her.

‘I am tired Jacaerys, all I want is a good, long sleep. Just leave me be for the night, I will not answer you if you come back! I need no protection from you!’ She snapped as the door opened.

‘If Aemond-‘

‘Aemond is not here! And now you are not here either, go to your own chambers and give me a night of peaceful sleep after all of this Bullshit!’ She slammed the door, locking it instantly and Aemond could feel his cock hardening in his breeches. Something about hearing her reject Jace was a turn on for him in a major way and he wanted to mark her neck up with as many bite marks as possible, he needed to show his nephew who his Princess truly belonged to.

‘That was impressive.’ Aemond spoke, seeing her nearly jump a foot in the air as she gasped. ‘Apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you…I just wanted to see you. I knew your betrothed would not allow you even a moment in my presence.’ Her eyes were slit instantly as he said this.

‘Jace thinks he can control me but I will not let myself be that kind of wife! I am not an object to be owned, to be ordered around in front of his friends to make him look like a strong man or King! I do not want to be his wife or his Queen!’ She snapped and Aemond did his best to look at her softly, wanting her to see his empathy and her eyes widened as she realized what she had done. ‘I am so sorry Kepus! You did not deserve that, I am not angry at you. I am so-‘ (Uncle)

‘Breathe Byka Dārilaros…it is alright. I understand how angry he makes you feel, I hate him as well, remember?’ He teased and she chuckled before stepping forward and not hesitating to wrap her arms around his body, resting her head on his chest. (Little Princess)

‘I missed you so much Kepus…I wanted to write to you but my mother wouldn’t let me. She said it was a betrayal to Luke and that since you didn’t write to me, you clearly wouldn’t care but I-‘

‘I did write to you. I sent letters for months before I received one from my sister telling me to stop, that you did not want to hear from me but I knew that was a lie . There was not a single day that passed that I did not think about how much I missed you…’ Aemond looked down at her, his arms around her to hold her to him, hesitating only a moment as he looked into her soft eyes and pressed his lips to hers.

She surprised him a bit when she didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, her hands moving to hold his shirt tightly as he took her face into his and held her close. Y/n was his everything and he had been craving for this exact moment since he was 6 years old, wanting to kiss her since the moment they first flew together. She will be his and he will keep her close forever, determined to never let anyone touch what is his ever again-especially Jace.

‘You are so perfect…’ he mumbled against her lips before pulling away and resting his forehead on hers. ‘Do you want this? I don’t want to force you into anything you do not desire, my love…however I want you to be mine. I have craved you for so many years and I will cherish the ground you walk on if you will be mine.’ Aemond knew giving her the choice would make the difference in pushing her to do what she wanted even against her mothers wishes.

‘I love you Kepus, I always have…our mothers will never-‘

‘There is a way…My mother will insist upon it if I have already filled you with my son…’ he tried to speak softly, let her know that it is her choice to make. ‘I love you Byka Dārilaros, and I want you to be my wife more than anything. The thought of being forced to marry another turns my stomach however I will never force myself upon you. If you would marry Jace then I will love you from afar…but if you want me then I will make love to you right here and now. I will pleasure you all night long until you are so full of me there is no doubt you carry my son and then I will sleep inside of your pretty little cunt for our family to find come morning…let me love you in every way that he can’t.’ There were tears in her eyes as he finished speaking to her and he moved to wipe them away before she spoke again. Y/n reached up, taking the eyepatch covering his sapphire into her fingers before he caught her wrist awkwardly. No lady had ever seen his face and not been uncomfortable or disgusted by it which is why he always covered it whenever he wasn’t alone in his room or in the library.

‘I would look upon your face and see all that you are…while you fill me with our first child.’ He looked at her, startled for a moment before he released her hand and she pulled the eyepatch off.

‘First of many…I will fill you with as many children as you desire.’ Aemond promised before kissing her again, his hands moving to the back of her dress where he unlaced the corset and pulled it down her arms, lifting her out of the dress and moving to drop her onto the bed. She pulled off her small clothes as she watched him remove his shirt and breeches, leaving him bare and revealing his hard cock that was already leaking. ‘You are so beautiful, my love…tell me that you’re mine.’ Aemond insisted, his hand giving his member a firm stroke.

‘I’m yours Kepus, all yours forever.’ She promised as he crawled over her, kissing his jaw and down his neck sweetly. She was just so precious he couldn’t help the needy feeling in his chest demanding he take her.

‘All mine! Should any man look at you even a moment too long ever again, I will remove their eyes and feed them to the ravens.’ Aemond pushed her legs apart more so that he could settle between them, feeling her wetness on his cock for the first time and nearly cumming on the spot. He gave her a moment to relax herself upon pushing into her however she shocked him once again, moaning like a whore only a moment later prompting him to shove his hand over her mouth. ‘If someone hears you then your guard will come in here and we will be dragged apart. I would hear your lovely moans forevermore once I’ve filled your cunt but for now you must hush.’ She whined but bit her bottom lip hard to keep from making any loud noises. Aemond loved the knowledge that he could make her moan like that, in love with fucking her body already as he thrust up into her roughly. Her nails dug into his shoulders, scratching down his back painfully which sent a rush of pleasure through his belly upon him sucking hard on her throat, biting into her perfect skin quite hard and covering her mouth with a hand once again as she nearly screamed, her pussy tightening around his cock in a way he had never felt before which practically dragged his own end from his body. ‘Gods be good, I’ve never felt anything like that before…you felt good?’ It was an insecure moment of him needing that reassurance and while with anyone else he would have been instantly embarrassed, she nodded, quite dazed it seemed and he knew she didn’t judge him for a moment. ‘Your cunt is a form of blissful ecstasy I did not know was attainable. You are mine now Y/n…say it…’

‘Yours Aemond…all yours…you will be my husband as soon as next week and you will be able to have me anytime and any place you desire. I never thought it could feel like that…I love you Kepus.’ Her words touched him and in that moment Aemond knew that he would never need anyone else in this world again as long as he had Y/n and their future silver haired babies.

‘I love you too Mandianna, I always have. From this night on they will never be able to steal you from me again! You are all mine Y/n…and I will take pleasure in making sure everyone knows it.’ He made his point as he thrust his hard cock up into her once more prompting her sharp intake of breath, nails digging into his forearms before pulling him down to kiss her. (Niece)

Aemond spent the night filling his future wife with as much of his seed as his body held, biting her perfect pale skin everywhere he could reach and ensuring no one would ever be able to argue who she belonged to again. He finally had what he had always wanted, the only things left to do was put a tiara upon her head and meet their children.

The knock on the door was the thing that awakened the both of them the next morning quite early and far too soon considering how many hours Aemond had spent filling his bride…(6 hours). It was frantic and Aemond groaned, pulling Y/n closer into his chest as he was happy to ignore it before her mother shouted.

‘Y/n! You aren’t at breakfast and neither is Aemond! If he is in there with you…!’ She warned and Aemond found the half threat amusing.

‘Aemond! Are you in there?!’ His mother was the one shouting through the door now and he smiled, kissing his soon-to-be-wife’s lips before responding.

‘Good morning mother!’ He responded.

‘You Little Fuck! If you’ve hurt my daughter I swear to all of the Gods!’ Rhaenyra raged. ‘Daemon! Get This Door Open!’ She demanded.

‘He did not hurt me mother!’ Y/n stated just before the first loud hit to the door causing his girl to scream, turning to hide her face into his neck as he sat up. It took 2 more strikes before the door burst open and their mothers entered along with Daemon and Otto. Y/n was covered up to her waist while her upper body was pressed to his leaving only her back exposed.

‘Aemond! What have you done?’ Alicent asked sadly, clearly trying to think of a solution, knowing there was only one in this situation.

‘You all know that we have loved each other since we were children. Did you think that would go away just because you didn’t give her my letters sister?’ Rhaenyra’s eyes widened before she glared at him in a rage.

‘What is he talking about?’ His mother asked.

‘I didn’t want him speaking to her! She will not marry her Uncle like-‘

‘Like you did?’ Alicent deadpanned making the Princess look to her. ‘She will actually marry her Uncle, from this moment they are betrothed-‘

‘My daughter is already betrothed to-‘

‘Not anymore!’ Otto cut her off. ‘From this moment on the Princess Y/n Velaryon is to be wed to Prince Aemond Targaryen. The wedding will take place at the end of the week, we cannot have anyone knowing of these indiscretions when she begins to show as I am assuming she is likely pregnant?’ He asked Aemond who grinned.

‘Oh, most definitely. I’ve left no doubt that she carry’s my son. I was actually planning on filling her with another one before you so rudely broke the door down-‘

‘Do not push your luck Aemond!’ His Grandsire warned.

‘I should remove your head you insolent little shit.’ Daemon growled, Aemond seeing the rage in his eyes.

‘Then your grandchild would be without a father, Uncle. What purpose would that serve except ensuring your daughter hates you?’ Y/n moved her hand to pinch his side making him jump. ‘I’m sorry Byka Dārilaros.’

Aemond could see the surprise at his apology in his mother and Grandsire’s eyes. ‘Maybe this will be a good thing after all.’ Otto considered before turning to leave the room.

‘No more fooling around. Get dressed and get to breakfast. Now.’ With that his mother guided Rhaenyra and Daemon reluctantly out of the room.

‘Can your husband help you get dressed my love?’ Aemond questioned and she kissed his shoulder before biting his neck as he had done to her about 30 times the previous night, the evidence of which was very clear to see all over her chest and breasts. Aemond was proud though, because while she could hide those the 5 marks on her neck were not able to be hidden before breakfast where he was eager for Jace to see them.

They were both dressed 10 minutes later, their hair staying down until after they broke their fast for the day, Aemond leading her down the halls and enjoying the smile on his girls face as they entered the room with their family. He sat her down beside him and watched her fill her plate and eat, clearly hungry from their previous nights activities which filled him with pride at being able to satisfy his wife.

‘What is that?’ A voice demanded and everyone looked up to see Jace pointing at Y/n’s neck.

‘Jace, we will discuss this after we eat. You-‘

‘No!’ He cut his mother off, jumping up from his seat and moving to Y/n’s side in an instant, yanking her hair to the side and looking at her neck. Aemond heard her whimper in pain as he pulled her hair, holding her chin to expose her throat to him and he was instantly up from his chair with his hands on Jace.

‘That’s Enough!’ Rhaenyra shouted before Aemond punched his nephew who nearly flew backwards at the force his fist caused before he moved to grab him again, a voice calling his name through the jumble of people yelling which had his attention immediately.

‘Come eat with me Kepus, please?’ Y/n asked softly and he couldn’t deny her that as she held her hand out. Aemond moved to take it, lifting her onto his lap and sitting to eat, feeding her and feeling proud at providing her what she needs, thoroughly enjoying her feeding him as well.

It seemed that everyone was shocked at Aemond disengaging from the fight but his attention was on his soon to be wife as it should be. ‘We should go for a morning flight after breakfast…let me take you for a ride as I promised, late as the kept promise may be.’ Y/n looked up at him and he could see her surprise which he found adorable.

‘You…you want me to-to ride Vhagar?’ She questioned and he chuckled.

‘Not alone of course but yes, I had wanted to take you up with me the night I mounted her but that clearly didn’t happen. It will be fun, I promise.’ The smile on his girls face was worth everything to him. She was precious and he would keep his wife happy no matter what. If that meant that his nephews and older sister needed to be un-happy, then that was just icing on the cake for him.

He finally took her flying with him later that day, though it made her own dragon quite grumpy and forced her to take Ghost for his own flight before they could go back home. Aemond had finally kept his promise, and had ensured he got exactly what he wanted in the end.

Now all that is left for Aemond to do is figure out how to make Y/n his Queen and fulfill his dream of his wife riding him on the Iron Throne.

That one may take a bit more work, but he would ensure it, No Matter What.

Aemond T. Masterlist

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dream - Chapter Twenty One.

Huge thanks to everyone for their continued support :)

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 3,294 

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“Hello, Keri, my love! I am so sorry, a thousand apologies for calling you on a Saturday morning when I know you’ve likely been out last night getting very, very drunk!”

Those warm tones of a mostly Indian accent, punctuated every so often with little American twangs, were the last she expected to hear at 10am that morning, getting out of bed and heading into the bathroom so as not to wake Angel.  

“Uncle Sunni!” she gushed excitedly, softly clicking the door shut and closing the toilet lid to take a seat.

“The one and only!” he chirped, Keri grinning widely. She swore, for every year that she’d known him, his accent had gotten stronger for returning to his parent’s homeland. “How are you, darling?”

“I’m really good! How are you and aunt Bee? And my cousins?”  

“We are all very well, thank you for asking. Saanvi has decided she is a Miley Cyrus girl now, so this is all we have playing in the house, Sita is doing well with her dance classes, and Sanjay is awful. Please come and take him away!” His joke about their youngest had her in soft fits, Sunni continuing. “Listen, I was calling to get a hold of my brother-in-law, is he around? I cannot get through to his cell, your mother’s neither,” he spoke, hoping that all was okay with the family.  

“Well, mom is in at work today doing some overtime, and I think David might be working on his truck. I don’t know, I’m not at home right now,” she revealed, finger combing her messy hair.  

“Ahh, I shall keep trying him, then. He is probably listening to that bloody god-awful Rainbow music. Since you’ve been gone? Since I wish you would go, more like!” he exclaimed, snorting with laughter.  

“That’s a classic!” she exclaimed.

“Oh, classic nothing!” Sunni yelled, his volume making her laugh. He always got louder by about twenty decibels whenever excited or trying to make a point. “That and his Boomtown Rats! I don’t like Monday’s? Nobody does, Bob Geldof! Bloody sit down and be quiet!”

She sat there in hysterics at his usual comic observations. Sunni was one of very few people who could legitimately make her cry laugh, her sides hurting. Usually from the hilarious banter he and Bee got into together, or the berating of her stepdad’s taste in music.  

“So where are you, then? You say you’re not at home, are you in work? Did I disturb? I am sorry if I’m getting you into trouble,” he then asked, courteous as always.  

“No, I quit my job recently. I needed more time at the weekends, plus with leaving college approaching and not wanting to have anything to tie me down so I can travel a little, I needed to do it soon anyway,” she began in explanation. “I’m at a hotel right now, my boyfriend is up visiting from Southern Cali.”

The noise of interest Sunni made had her in fits once more. “Oh! There is a new boyfriend on the scene! Have you been with him for long? Would I approve? What is he like?” She sat and gave him a brief outline of Angel to pacify his multiple questions, Sunni making little ‘umhm’ noises as she spoke.

“It sounds like you are very happy with this man, early days or not! I would fetch your auntie for you to have your obligatory girl’s talk, but it is her turn currently trying to get Sanjay to bed, and he is being an absolute horror about it!” Her youngest cousin Sanjay had just turned two and was most definitely living up to the term terrible two’s. “Anyway, I might as well tell you why I was trying to call David, share with you our news. I have been accepted for a post at Utah Valley Speciality Hospital, so good news, darling. We are returning to America.”  

“Oh my god!” she screamed, suddenly clasping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, that’s amazing!” she then added much more quietly, drumming her feet softly against the tiled floor. “I can’t wait! When do you come back?”

“Not for another three months, just while we finish getting everything sorted at this end, selling the house, etcetera. We didn’t tell anybody, just in case it didn’t come through, but now that it has and there is also a chance that your aunt could have a job also opening up at the same hospital, now that Sanjay is of preschool age and she can return to work, we felt confident in sharing the news.” he explained, delighted at his niece’s reaction.  

They chatted for a short time longer before ending their call, Keri absolutely ecstatic to have some of her favourite family members returning. Tying her hair up, she brushed her teeth and took a quick shower, coming out to find Angel checking his phone.

“What was all the excitement for? I heard a squeal of ‘oh my god’,” he grumbled, still sounding half asleep as he placed his phone back down, a hand sliding into her towel to stroke her hip.  

“That was my uncle on the phone. He was trying to get a hold of my parents, but they’re not picking up. Anyway, he told me he and Bee are moving back over here, he’s got a job at a local hospital, so I’m over the moon that I’ll be able to see them regularly instead of once a year,” she shared.

“Yeah? That’s great, baby. I know you hated that they lived halfway around the world,” he replied brightly, just as his stomach began to growl. She raised an eyebrow, shaking her head as she leaned to kiss his abdomen. “I think I need feeding.”  

An hour later and they were sitting inside a small restaurant, hard wood surfaces, Edison light bulbs and plants strewn over the large shelves that flanked the black walls, Keri bouncing in her seat with excitement at one particular dish on the menu.

Angel looked over at her with a smile. “You just saw the peanut butter pancakes, didn’t you?”

“I did!” she squeaked. How well he knew her. Anything with peanut butter, and Keri was on it in an instant.  

Reaching for her hand, he squeezed it gently, thinking how adorable she was. “Y’all a hundred percent too cute, mamacita.” Her beamed smile made his heart skip a beat, sitting there feeling like he was the luckiest guy in the world. While the waited for their food, they sat and discussed her ever nearing departure from college, meaning that for the following three weeks they wouldn’t be able to meet with her workload going into overdrive in preparation to finish, but when she did, she had some plans.  

“I’m going to book going over to Galway, but not for as long as I originally wanted to. If you could come then that’d be great, I think Aaron and Rachel are down, Frankie too. Jaime won’t be because of work. So yeah, we’re planning on that to be for two weeks. Then I was thinking of driving down to Santo Padre, maybe basing myself there for a while, travelling around Cali. If you don’t mind, that is?”

He put on a thoughtful face, scratching his chin. “Hmm, do I mind having my beautiful, sexy, funny, amazing girlfriend around more often? Hmm, lemme think on that.” She began laughing softly through her nose, leaning over to kiss him. “Of course, I don’t mind.” Despite the joviality of his statement, he felt a pit in his stomach at hearing her plans to travel. He pushed it down, though, reasoning that she wanted to stay with him in her time between.

“Good, because you’re stuck with me now.” There was truly nobody he’d rather be stuck with. Their weekend went by in a blur, Keri holding him tightly before he departed, crying in his arms at how much she anticipated she was going to miss him. He hated leaving her behind whenever he had to go home again, but the buzz inside of knowing he’d get so much more time with her over the spring and summer alleviated the sadness of being separated from her.

While they were parted, he took his mind off it by putting in some serious time around the yard, taking on extra shifts, deciding to re-decorate his bedroom and make it look a little better than the mismatching bare essentials vibe, seeking some advice from a certain lady.

“You need a theme!” Sharise exclaimed, taking a cart from the front of the local homeware store, buzzing already. If Mrs Reyes thrived on anything, it was a decoration project.  

He viewed her with mild disgust, his nose crinkling. “A theme? Nope. I saw a picture online and I want that. Dark green walls, white ceiling. I got new furniture on the way, too. I just need things to make it look less empty.”

“Rug, lamps, artwork, candles,” Sharise began to list.

“No candles!”

“Yes, candles!” she stated emphatically. “Keri likes them, she told me which is her favourite. Black coconut by Yankee, and they sell them here.”  

He took a pause for a moment, his brow creasing. “Are you two making plans behind my back? Is this a little scheme you’ve cooked up to get some damned chick litter all up in my space?”

Sharise threw her head back, entertained at the chick litter term. “No! We were chatting the other night, she replied to one of my stories I put up with my candle collection all burning, and she mentioned she liked Yankee candles about as much as I do. Us girls talk about things like that, you know.”  

“Hmph.” His mutter was then followed by a speedy swerve around the cart, Sharise attempting to put some large cushions into it. ”No cushions! My couch is fine as it is!”

“These are for the bed,” she clarified, gently slapping his arms, grabbing two more that were slightly darker.  

“I got pillows, I don’t need ‘em!”

“They’ll finish the bed nicely, add a little depth of comfort.”

His face was a picture of confusion. “They add... what?”

“And when you’re having sex, you can pop a couple underneath your lady and they’ll tilt her hips in a way that means you get to hit a whole other host of different angles.”

He nodded, gesturing to the previously frowned upon items. “Alright, they can stay.” She grinned, tossing her braids over her shoulder as they continued, smug that she knew exactly what to say in order to get around his protests. He was, as she expected, still difficult, though.

“Sharise! Put it back,” he ordered, pointing as she wrestled with a giant, white sheepskin rug from the rolls gathered at the back of the store.

“You’re going for bare floorboards, right?”

He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am.”

“Then you need a nice rug to tie the room together!”

Depth of comfort and tying the room together. Her chosen language was completely lost on him. “But then I gotta vacuum the damned thing!” His complaint was accompanied by a little show of drama, folding his arms over the cart handle, resting his head down and regretting his decision to involve his sister-in-law.

“No, because the fleece is too long, it’ll get caught in the rollers. You just go shake it outside, et voila! Done.” Into the cart it went, Angel muttering in mild despair. Fluffy rugs. Was this what his life had become?  

The rest of the store was browsed rapidly, Angel actually being able to make his own choices, loading up on photo frames he planned to put some of Keri’s photographs into after he’d had them blown up, a set of white plaster skulls that looked remarkably like the real thing, Sharise adding bits and pieces as she went for both him and herself. The large, black and grey vase with black birch twigs was not one of his choices, but he allowed it. Begrudgingly.  

“So, you seem to be very content with Keri, then, with this talk of her coming to stay for a while,” Sharise observed, finishing the large mouthful of Cuban sandwich she’d just taken at a bar she’d driven them to, telling Angel she’d at least buy him lunch in apology for terrorising him in the home décor stakes.

He smiled, thinking of her. “I really am, she’s cool. Can’t wait to have her come kinda live with me, even though I think it’ll only be temporary.”

She noticed he sounded a little dejected by that. “Because of her travelling? You two are so sillily in love with one another, I can see her making Santo Padre her base when she isn’t, you know. I know it’s still early days, but you two fit together so well.”

He scratched the back of his neck, his brow furrowing. “I sometimes wonder if I’m the one who’ll be temporary. She’s so ambitious, and young still, too. Makes me wonder if we’ll last.”  

“Well, just see how it goes, but don’t write off a future with her just because she has ambitions!” she gently suggested, reaching to squeeze his hand. “She doesn’t have to be around you all the time to be in a committed relationship with you.”

He snorted softly, looking uncomfortable, clamming up as she predicted he would. She would press, though. She’d heard of this before. “I did wonder, when you’d have your wobble.” His frown prompted her to continue. “Lucy told me, that back when you guys got together, you had a little bit of a freak out over whether she’d meet anyone else, and I suppose that’s rearing its ugly head again, with talk of Keri going off travelling around. You think she’s going to meet someone you assume to be better, don’t you?”  

He grunted.  

“Angel,” she spoke softly, reaching to stroke his face, tilting his head up. “You need to start putting to bed these feelings that you aren’t good enough. You are. Did Lucy find anyone else? Nope. So, there’s no saying Keri is going to. She’s crazy about you, for heaven’s sake! And I know what you’re gonna say, that other women in the past have only seen you as a short-term fling, but my love, that’s because it’s all you’ve offered to them, whether consciously or not.”  

“Yeah, yeah I guess you’re right," he finally admitted, realising that it was his self-sabotage coming back to haunt him. As soon as he fell in love, it was only a matter of time before it came bubbling up to the surface, his fears of loss, of not being good enough.  

He’d been pushing it down into his darkest depths for the last two weeks, ever since they’d confessed their love. It had been festering a little closer to the surface since her talk of travelling over breakfast the last time he’d seen her, though. The little pit in his stomach he’d felt? It had predictably taken root, no matter how much he didn’t want it to.  

Looking over at Sharise, he felt his little padlocked gate begin to strain. If there was one woman he always opened up to, it was her. “I don’t want to wreck it all, but I’m kinda scared I will. I can’t just be happy. My fucking brain has to freak out and cause drama. Which I usually then fuckin’ thrive on.”  

It suddenly clicked with Sharise, the sprucing up of his home. He wanted to hopefully make Keri feel as if it was hers, too. He wanted to find more ways to entice her return, hence doing away with the bachelor pad look, albeit with slight reluctance. Oh, he was too adorable, in such a beautifully, partially broken way. From what Keri had told her in exchanges messages, chatting online in order to get to know each other more, he had no reason to feel insecure. Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. People were rarely so simple.  

“Angel, the only way you’re going to wreck it is by listening to that toxic little voice in the back of your head instead of Keri. Have faith. She came into your life for a reason. There’s no way that dreaming of her before you even met her is anything less than destiny. Believe in it. You were doing great until you let the panic creep in.” Taking another bite of her sandwich, she winked, Angel determined to take her advice on board.  

It didn’t help that he was only a week into a three-week separation from her, but he did work hard to keep Sharise’s advice in mind. As if the universe had heard his doubts, he received a notification one night, painting well into the small hours after returning from dealing with club affairs, wiping his hand on a spare piece of cloth as he crawled over the painting sheets to grab his phone. Keri had tagged him in an Instagram post.  

‘I don’t even know how one man can be so amazing. He’s the sexiest, the funniest, the loveliest, the best. I miss you, gorgeous. Can’t wait until this is us again.’

He smiled at viewing the image, one Keri had taken in the hotel room on the bed as she’d sat astride him, her hand reached out cupping his cheek, Angel smiling up at her as the sun shone in through the window and bathed him in bright light. He remembered just how happy he’d felt, when she’d taken it, his heart fluttering at the memory, scrolling to his call list and tapping her name.  

“Hey, you free to talk?”

“I am, I have a few spare minutes,” she replied, waiting for her coffee to pour, prepared to work right on through until the morning and then sleep for a few hours before she started again. “How are you? I hate that tomorrow is Saturday and I won’t have you here. Sucks.”

He was surprised to hear she was still up doing her work, since she’d mentioned earlier when they’d messaged that she’d be spending the entire day doing such. “You got some serious dedication there, for it to be 1am and you’re still working. As for me, yeah, I’m alright. Missing you like fuck, though.”  

She made a soft noise in her throat, picking up her large mug of coffee (a two-pod creation) and turning the machine off. “I miss you too! Two weeks and I’ll be free, though, get to come and spend ten days with you before Galway. Did you ask Bish, if you can swing that kind of time away?”

“I did,” he sighed, “and I can’t. I could come for a week, but he can’t lose me for two.”

She was bright in her reply, all optimism. “Well, that’s better than nothing! Come out with us for the week, then head home. How about that? I’d rather at least have you there for a short time rather than not at all. These places I want to travel to, having you there by my side would mean so much. I know it’s corny, but the whole making memories thing is important, you know?”

Her words made him smile, the more rational side of him seeing clearly how stupid his self-doubt was. He knew he wouldn’t likely overcome it immediately, but what she told him had helped. “Yeah, querida, I know. I love you.”

“And I love you too. Listen, I have to hit the laptop again, but I’ll call you tomorrow, after I’ve had some sleep. Night, gorgeous.”

“Night baby.�� Ending the call, he looked around at the half-painted walls. They weren’t the only work in progress.  

[karlswrites]

Big Vs. Little Spoon

Demon Bois + Non-Dateables Edition

This game is my newest hyper-fixation, so please bear with me. I know there are a lot of head-canons about the boys cuddling, but here’s my rendition. Boy howdy, this one’s a little long...

Warnings: Pure Fluff 

❤️ Lucifer: Because he’s the Avatar of Pride, Lucifer loves feeling bigger than you.  His pride inhibits him from being the little spoon, so he often opts for being the big spoon. Luci can’t help but admire the way his arms completely envelop you when he’s the big spoon. However, if he decides that you’ve been “a good little Main Character,” then he might acquiesce to your request, allowing you to lounge over him. Additionally, Luci prefers that the two of you cuddle in his bed, as it is rather large and extremely comfortable. Seeing you sprawled out over or curled in his comforter fills him to the brim with pride. Being able to hold you close to his chest gives him more pride than literally anything else. Being the elegant fella that he is, he will always lower himself beside you gently, careful not to disturb you. He won’t jump on the bed like some people. 

(I’m so sorry you had to read that one line of dialogue, if you can even call it that.)

💛 Mammon: A true switch on top of and underneath the sheets, Mammon is more likely to be the little spoon than his elder brother. He will never admit to you how much he enjoys feeling your arms slumped over him, but he does love it. He’ll never object to being the big spoon, though, as having his arms and legs draped over you is a HUGE ego booster. Mammon often feels little in the company of his brothers, so knowing that you feel safe and comfortable in his hold makes the guy’s heart melt. I must warn you, though, that Mammon doesn’t hesitate to leap unto your bed, effectively smothering you with his love and adoration. In the private on your room or his, because he loves showing his stuff off, he’ll entangle himself in you. Honestly, it doesn’t matter to him how you’re lying, as long as he gets to stay with you. If you satisfy his greed, and you always do, he will never leave.

(My friend thought of an adorable Mammon x MC Piggy-back ride idea, but that’s for another day, hehe)

💙 Leviathan: This poor boy isn’t used to physical touch, much less having someone in his room almost every night. His only experience comes from a Ruri-chan body pillow, and that thing does not compare to your warmth. At first, you have to be the big spoon. Although he’s embarrassed, Levi adores the feeling of your arms and legs hooked around him. He always takes the opportunity to take his hands and intertwine them with yours over his chest and waist. Now, if Levi gets jealous, then that’s a whole other story. If he notices a few too many people crowded around you or hugging you throughout the day, he’ll find his confidence and trap you into him. He’ll pull you into the bathtub with him, lay you down on his pillows, and act clingy so that nobody mistakes you for theirs. Good luck leaving the tub, ya hooligan. 

💚 Satan: Out of the two options, Satan is probably the big spoon most of the time. He likes holding you close, being able to enjoy some peace and quiet with you. He’s not so much of a ‘little/big spoon’ as he is a ‘two forks lying snuggly together in a drawer’ kind of guy. You lie next to him, your arms looped around his neck or his chest. Satan holds a book over the two of you, reading aloud softly. His free hand is snaked under your waist, his thumb gently stroking up and down your spine with each sentence he reads. On the other hand, if it’s late at night or super early in the morning, he’ll indulge in that prime spooning opportunity. He’d probably place his chin in the crook of your shoulder. He’ll probably have his hands anchored in your waist. He’ll probably - most definitely- slowly turn you around in his arms, letting his hands wander back towards your spine. Satan loves having you pressed against his heartbeat and vice versa. Your heart is the perfect sound for him to fall asleep to. 

💗 Asmodeus: This guy is a little spoon. With how much he loves himself and you, of course, he will curl himself into you. Asmo doesn’t like as much for his back to face you, so he always ends up turning around in your arms. He wants you to have constant access to his face. Whether you’re looking at him or kissing him, it doesn’t matter; Asmo wants your attention on his beautiful face. Being constantly suggestive, especially when it comes to you, he slowly weaves his legs between yours. He doesn’t hesitate when playing footsies, too. In terms of his preferences, he loves hosting you in his room. If you ever want to cuddle in your room, though, then he’ll eagerly agree. Asmo looks forward to leaving the scent of whatever fragrance he’s wearing all over your bedsheets. He wants you thinking about him 24/7 after all. 

(If anyone disagrees with this one, in particular, square up in a Denny’s parking lot.)

🧡 Beelzebub: As long as you’re eating food during cuddling, Beel could care less how you’re placed over him. He’s a big boy, so he’s often the big spoon. One of his arms will snake its way underneath you, holding you tightly around the waist. His other hand is preoccupied with a bag of chips or another tasty snack. Unlike Asmo, Beel is not nearly as handsy. He keeps you in his strong hold the entire time. When he’s done eating, he moves his hand up to your head. His digits will stroke and play with your hair. It’s so soft, and Beel can’t get enough of how relaxed it makes the both of you feel. Another position he likes, which isn’t necessarily spooning, but him lying on his back with you on top. Beel loves, loves, loves your head on his chest. The way his chin rests upon your head is so nice to him. He drapes his arms down your back, hooking his legs over yours. He keeps you in place, and you feel so safe. He is a legitimate teddy bear. 

💜 Belphegor: The Avatar of Sloth is the best cuddler, hands down. He has so many pillows and, upon request, can provide pillow forts, beds, nooks , or whatever you need. You always fall asleep within minutes. Cuddling was a bit difficult at first, as you didn’t always trust him. Actually, it was Belphie’s attempt to gain your trust that led you to be cuddle-buddies (besides your mutual pining, of course). Like some of his brothers, he doesn’t prefer one position over the other. He can be a big or little spoon. You say the word, and he’ll fall into the position with ease. He covers you with blankets, making you appear as a burrito/cocoon. He is definitely warm each and every time you snuggle in close. Belphie clings to you as a sloth clings to its branch, never letting go, even when you wake up. 

❤️ Diavolo: Another big boy, Diavolo is the - drum roll, please- big spoon. He has the broadest shoulders, biggest hands, and widest chest that’s perfect to fall into. Whenever you cuddle, he silently hopes you choose his castle. He’s always so excited to bring you over, and this guy has a massive bed. It’s literally made for a king. Since he’s a ray of sunshine, Diavolo will playfully tug you onto the mattress with him. He holds your face, caressing your cheeks. He grabs your waist, pulling you in even closer. He doesn’t let go until he absolutely has to. Sometimes, Barbatos has to come in and drag him away from you. Diavolo is completely smitten by you, and his affection only grows every time he relaxes against your back. Furthermore, cuddling with you is the perfect way to end a stressful day of dealing with the crazy demon brothers. 

💚 Barbatos: Barbatos may be a butler, but something about him screams big spoon. He loves scooping you up in his arms. The feeling of his heartbeat against your back brings him the greatest sense of comfort. When keeping you tangled up in his arms, he asks now and again if he can move in anyway, get you anything, or do anything to make you feel even more comfortable. He likes his control, but he always aims to please. Barbatos and you never stay still for long. His fingers run along your arms, sides, and shoulders continuously. He, too, likes playing with your hair. If you fall asleep before him, he places kisses on the back of your scalp, neck, and shoulders. He never goes past that, but cuddling allows him ample time to indulge in some innocent physical attention. Expect to be carried out of bed bridal style when the two of you wake up. 

🖤 Solomon: As the Devildom’s official special snowflake, you might never know what you’ll get with him. Solomon prefers feeling your back against his chest, though he will, like Lucifer, reward you by being the little spoon. He’s very calm and cool, so being the little spoon doesn’t embarrass him. He only cares about encasing you with his arms, hands wrapped around you in a big hug. He’s not as outwardly affectionate with you as another guy might be, but Solomon delivers some high-quality snuggles. You feel small and safe against him, and that’s all he could ever want. In terms of location, the two of you typically end up in your room. However, on days when the demon boys are at it again, he will coyly invite you into his dorm. He loves when your scent seeps its way into his bedsheets, but he also loves it when his gets lost in yours. Solomon is always left floored by how such simple affection can make him feel so warm and fuzzy. He doesn’t need to worry about spells with you, and you don’t need to worry about anything with him. 

🤍 Simeon: Similar to Levi, Simeon isn’t used to physical touch, but he’s not as shy. Cuddling you sounds as good as heaven, and he relishes in the feeling of your soft skin against his. Another true switch, in my humble opinion, he is content with being a big or little spoon. He’s an angel, and his greatest concern is how comfortable you are at all times. He’s inexperienced, so he will more-than-happily follow your lead. He never moves without your consent. You might have to reassure him a few times that moving is totally fine. In fact, it’s welcomed. Once he gets that through his noggin, he finally relaxes into you. From behind, Simeon grazes his hands over your stomach, loving the warmth you emit. If you’re behind him, he’ll seize the opportunity to clutch his hands in yours, loving the feeling of your head on his shoulder. He sleeps so much better with you.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 13

Hello friends we have come to the end of Cult Girl. Thank you all for hyping me up throughout this story and giving me the confidence to actually post my work. Y/n and Hannibal throw a dinner party.

The sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the entire kitchen in that homey mid-morning glow. You were enjoying your coffee and scrolling through an article on your phone.

"Senator Hatch reportedly coughed up his late wife's toe on the floor of the precinct." You read out loud. "Huh. Wonder how that could have happened."

You side-eyed Hannibal, who was contentedly sharpening his knives. Placing a rather large meat cleaver to the side, he met your gaze. "I have my ways."

You finished off your coffee and brought the mug to the sink. "There was no way Theresa was going to survive that night, was there?"

"Clever girl." Hannibal praised.

"You were going to kill her if I didn't, were you?" You felt a smile coming on. "Did everything turn out as expected?"

"Darling, this all went much better than I could have ever hoped for." He smirked. "See, I had the whole evening mapped out. I was hoping you'd be the one to deliver justice and kill her, but I had to prepare for the possibility that you wouldn't."

You folded your arms and leaned against the island. "Is that why I was so sick that day?"

You could have sworn you saw some hesitation in Hannibal's face. Maybe even a touch of regret. "Yes. You needed an alibi. It was as easy as removing a single birth control pill from your packet. You'd see it was missing and think you'd already taken your medicine-"

"So I'd neglect to take my focus meds." You cut in. "Yeah, I knew something was off."

"By the end of the day, you'd be experiencing full withdrawal symptoms." Hannibal nodded. "I don't take any pleasure in upsetting the delicate balance of your brain chemistry, and for that I am sorry. I did what I had to."

"Yeah, don't ever do that again." You ordered, no disarming smile in sight. "I need those meds to function."

"I promise you, darling," Hannibal said, sincerely. "I would never keep you from being anything but your very best. I was just looking after you."

"I suppose now that all this is out in the open, you won't need to pull any shit like that again." You muttered. "But I'm still going to keep my pills at my apartment."

"That reminds me." He said. "Would you like to invite your roommates for dinner tonight? I've prepared a wonderful Spanish-inspired menu that's perfect for entertaining."

"I'd love for you to meet my friends, but, they all keep such weird hours I doubt they'll all be free tonight." You shrugged. "I'll give them a call though."

"Wonderful." He smiled. "You make arrangements while I prepare the kitchen."

You stepped into the office and called up Pilar. She answered within the minute.

"[F/N]!" She near shouted. "Holy fuck, how are you doing?"

"I'm actually doing..." you looked back into the kitchen, watching your beloved Hannibal in his element. "Really well."

"I heard about your cousin." Pilar cut in. "One down, two to go."

You snorted. "No fucking shit."

"Sorry, was that okay for me to say?" She apologized. "I know you said Theresa was a bitch, but it's your trauma and I-"

"No, you're fine." You laughed. "She was a bitch. Hey, do you have any plans tonight?"

"Uh, no. I don't think so." She answered. "Why?"

"Hannibal wants to invite you all for dinner tonight." You said with an audible smile. "Y'know, to celebrate the bitch's death."

"Yo! Steph!" Pilar shouted across the room. "Wake Randy up! We're having dinner at [F/N]'s rich boyfriend's house!"

You could make out Stephanie's voice in the background. "It's about damn time. We've been waiting for her to redistribute the wealth."

"She means thank you for the invitation." Pilar corrected.

"It's not like I had to twist his arm or anything. It was his idea." You chuckled. "He loves having guests. And excuses to dress up."

"Oh so we're getting fancy, huh?" Pilar's voice turned up in excitement.

"Hey [F/N]!" Randy snatched the phone from Pilar. "Text me the menu for tonight. My girlfriend'll steal a nice bottle of wine to pair. She's a pro, she works over at Cavatappi's wine and spirits."

"Much obliged, Randy." You said. "I'll see you guys at seven."

You returned to the kitchen with a smile. "They're coming."

"Well, we don’t have a moment to lose, then." Hannibal placed something wrapped in butcher paper on the counter. "Come now. Let me show you how to properly prepare a heart.

You and Hannibal spent the rest of the morning and the whole afternoon preparing a bountiful meal. You reveled in the irony of finally finding a space for Theresa in your life. That space just so happened to be on the stove.

Seven came far too quickly, but your friends were always a welcome sight. You greeted them at the door with hugs, Hannibal watching with stoic adoration.

"Guys, this is Hannibal Lecter, my partner." You introduced. "Hannibal, this is Pilar, Stephanie and Miranda."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, ladies." Hannibal greeted. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

"Here you go, Dr. Lecter." Randy handed him a bottle of wine. "Thank you for inviting us."

Hannibal examined the bottle. "Yes, this will pair quite nicely with our meal. Thank you very much. [F/N], could you show our guests to the dining room?"

You nodded and accepted the bottle, given the extra responsibility of pouring. You led your friends to the dining room and wasted no time distributing the alcohol.

"A toast." Stephanie rose her glass. "Too many of history's worst have had the privilege of dying on their own terms. Today, we celebrate the death of one who didn't: Theresa [L/N]."

"She will join her sisters Nancy Reagan and Madame Nhu in hell tonight." You concurred, tapping your glasses together with a series of satisfying clinks.

"Okay, you need to spill." Randy scooted her chair up and leaned towards you. "How the hell did you get away with it?"

"Well, it helped a lot that her husband was already a felon." You teased. "If I didn't kill her, he was going to eventually."

Pilar made a face. "I can't believe it took actual murder to get that latter-day lump thrown in prison."

"Well, the LDS church is a very influential organization with a stronghold on all of Utah." You explained. "There's a long history of legitimizing sex abuse there."

"We know, cult girl." Stephanie laughed. "You remind us every time your pedophile cousin-in-law comes up. Relax and take your victories where you can get them.” 

“Ladies,” Hannibal entered. You rushed to his side to help him with the dinner plates. “Have we ever tried organ meat before?” 

Everyone’s eyes found Pilar. 

“Braised liver is delicious and you guys are just cowards.” Pilar protested. “I will die on this hill.” 

Hannibal smiled and presented your friends with their plates. “You are a woman of good tastes, Pilar. Our first course is Riñones al Jerez.” 

“Kidneys.” Randy translated. “Who’s kidneys are we eating today, Dr. Lecter?” 

He tilted his head. “Theresa’s, of course.” 

“I don’t care whose organs you harvested.” Stephanie said, her eyes rolling back into her head. “This is delicious.” 

You and Hannibal shared a glance and a smile. 

You and your roommates devoured the Riñones al Jerez, then dug into the next serving of heart stewed with chickpeas and olives. You finished off the evening with natillas de leche and a bottle of Sauternes Hannibal just happened to have lying around. 

“This is the first time since like, Keith Raniere got sentenced that I’ve seen [F/N] happy-drunk.” Stephanie observed.

“Or even just... happy." Pilar said, looking at Hannibal. "I'll have some of whatever she's having, please."

"My pleasure." Hannibal poured her another glass of wine.

Your phone began to buzz on the table, capturing the attention of your guests. You didn't even need to look at the caller ID to know who it was. Nobody else in the world had such horrid timing.

"Shit, you've got to answer it here!" Stephanie pleaded. "So we can all give her a piece of our mind!"

You looked over to Hannibal, who you knew was just as curious.

You dragged the answer icon across the screen and put it on speaker. You gestured for your friends to be quiet. "Yeah?"

"Well look who finally decided to pick up." Grandma said. "Thank you for gracing me with your attention. I know you have so much going on right now, you're just too busy to pick up the phone and talk to your grieving grandmother."

"For your information..." you stumbled over your words. "I was interrogated by the police yesterday. I think that counts as having something going on."

"Are you drunk?" Her voice was laced with a disproportionate level of disgust.

"I'm grieving too, Beatrice." You counter. "What, suddenly you're the only one who can drink the pain away? That's not very democratic of you."

"In your state, you shouldn't even be thinking of alcohol!" Grandma scolded. "You of all people should know the effects alcohol has on an unborn baby."

You smacked yourself on the head. Of course Theresa would plant a seed to fuck you over one last time. "Did Theresa actually tell you I was pregnant?"

"It was her last message to me, actually. Anyway, you're coming home." Grandma said, without so much as waiting for a response. "I won't have my great grandchild living in that dangerous city that your cousin was killed in."

You exchanged looks with your friends, who were going through the same combination of emotions as you were. Grandma's words just seemed to fade out as you shared an entire nonverbal conversation with the people around you.

"And you're leaving that terrible, terrible man."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow and looked at you, waiting to see how you'd respond. You knew what you had to do. It was finally time. You did something you should have done a long time ago.

"No." You said, your nerves loosened by the wine.

"What?"

"No. And I mean it." A big smile crossed your lips. "Theresa lied to you. I'm not pregnant. And you have to live with the fact that your granddaughter's last words to you were a blatant lie."

Hannibal looked at you with pride and your friends began to silently gas you up with encouraging gestures. "

"...And that you're the only one to blame for her deception." You continued. "You raised her in your own image."

"This is why I refuse to let you raise my great grandchild with that man!" She wailed. "He's twisted your mind against me! He's made you cruel!"

"Hannibal made me see clearly that you made me cruel." You said with absolute certainty. "You'll never see me again."

"Don't be like your mother, [F/N]." Grandma snarled. "Don't cut people out for trying to help."

"You'll never see me again." You repeated and decided to leave it at that. You ended the call and blocked the number, joined by an eruption of excitement from your friends.

It was finally over. Your life could truly begin.

[roymustangonly]

Valueable Moments

A story in which you are a male Lieutenant working directly under Roy Mustang. 

FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST BROTHERHOOD PART ONE SPOILERS!!

Though it always seemed that the man was stressed, you couldn't stand to see Roy in the state that he was currently in: hair pointed outwards in every which way, deep circles beneath his jet black eyes, and his overall sluggish demeanor.

The broken man took his seat at his desk, groaning as he laid his head in his arms for a moment. He didn't care about his appearance around you at the moment, knowing you'd excuse his current behavior. "Good morning, Sir." You chimed, attempting to forecast a bit of your energy towards him. A slightly less painful groan was left in return, causing the edges of your mouth to twinge in sympathy.

Today was a rather slow day, which would work in Roy's favour. It was a Friday morning, with most work being completed already from the previous four work days. There were a few papers that he needed to sign, however they could technically wait until the following week.

Roy didn't seem to move after he uttered that groan, which could only mean that he had fallen asleep. You couldn't help but smile, quietly placing your pen back in its holding cup. You stood from your seat and pushed in the chair carefully, walking over to the Colonel. The position that he was in didn't seem right for his back, so you decided to try to lift him. The man didn't seem like he weighed too much. With a height of 5'8" and a lean muscular composition, he was bound to be within your carrying capabilities. This was where your theories fell flat.

You placed your arm around his two legs, and another behind his back, ready to lift. However, Roy was much heavier than he seemed. He must be carrying more muscle weight than you anticipated. You huffed and removed your arms, gazing back at the man before you. He was still fast asleep. The poor man must not have slept last night. Who could blame him after losing Maes…

You sighed and placed your hand on his head, gently moving each strand of hair from his eyes. Normally he'd never let you do such a thing, but there was no opposition when he was this exhausted. The corners of his mouth moved upwards in a sleepy smile, eyebrows moving from furrowed to relaxed. You heard a quiet noise escape from him as he moved his head slightly, as if he wanted more.

You felt a small ping of excitement as you brushed your thumb from the bottom of his front hairs to the root. Your hand left his head as you removed your jacket, draping it over his shoulders to act as a blanket. You left a final pat on the top of his head as you quietly stepped away.

As you reached your desk you picked up your phone, scrolling the wheel to dial Armstrong's extension. Of course he’d be able to lift the Colonel. Plus, he seemed like he’d help the man. He proved to be an extremely compassionate individual. You tapped your foot quietly as you waited for him to answer, fingers grazing against the curled telephone line. Your mind drifted to what excuses you could make for Roy in the event that someone called. You bit your bottom lip as you brainstormed, nearly jumping out of your skin as you heard Armstrong pick up.

The thoughts that were once invading the weather of your brain were now scattered, like a few calm clouds in a serene evening sky. “Hello?” Armstrong greeted, seeming a tad confused. “Hello, Major Armstrong, this is Lieutenant L/N. I require your assistance in the office if that is all right.” You explained, keeping your tone quiet. “YOU REQUIRE MY ASSISTANCE? OF COURSE! I WILL BE THERE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! THE ARMSTR-” You felt bad for hanging up abruptly, however even the voice in the telephone was too loud for the sleeping Roy across the room. He grumbled a grumpy noise and buried his head further into his desk, returning back to his immobile state. You sent a swift grin his way and made your way to the door, not wanting the Major to wake him up.

You exited the office and waited patiently for Major Armstrong, humming quietly to yourself. Meanwhile, Armstrong was running down the halls, elated that someone needed him. As you saw the Major, you put a finger to your lips, causing him to slow down in his tracks. He stopped in front of you and whispered… Rather, spoke in a normal tone for average beings. You weren’t sure if he was capable of legitimately whispering. “What do you need help with, Lieutenant?”

You pressed your pointer finger to your lips once again as you opened the door to the office, letting the Major in. His eyes opened wide as he whispered “Is he dead!?!?” You immediately closed the door and rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “The Colonel is asleep, and I’d appreciate it if you kept this between the two of us, Sir. Would you mind helping me lift him to the sofa? He seems quite exhausted and truly deserves the rest.”

Major Armstrong immediately melted and babbled about how kind of you that was, and how noble it was for you to ensure that he rested. You swore you could see hearts appear, framing his head as he continued to gush. When he was finished, he easily lifted the Colonel. Roy stirred a bit in his sleep but didn’t move much, as he was truly exhausted. The Major grinned ear to ear and giddily brought Roy to the sofa, placing him gently down. He gave the Colonel a light pat to the head and retreated back to you, nearly skipping due to the overall joy he was feeling.

You shook your head and let a crooked smile slip as the Major gushed to you. He swore that the Colonel leaned into him, like a small child. Armstrong was shaking with excitement, thanking you again for choosing him. You insisted that you should be thanking him, but he just seemed too damn happy.

As the Major finally exited the room, you rubbed your eyes and began to walk to your desk, stopping in your tracks as you heard your name. “Y/N…” Roy mumbled, eyes just barely open. You immediately turned around, walking over to your superior. You bent down so you were eye-level with Roy. “Yes, sir?” You asked, making sure to keep your voice down. “Why am I here… I n-” “Colonel, you need rest. I was quite unsure if you were even alive a few moments ago. Please do not argue with me, you deserve this rest. I’ve already taken care of everything else.”

He began to protest again, but his arguments were nearly as weak as his ability to stay conscious. You sighed and stood up, adjusting your uniform. “Rest well, Colonel.” You stated, turning back to face your desk. “Y/N wait-” You turned back around. Roy had a hand extended out, mumbling quietly: “Nap with me?” You immediately shut him down. Flirting? In this state? He is too persistent. You couldn’t even tell if he was being serious, due to his tone of voice, as well as not knowing his sexuality.

Roy gazed at you and sleepily smirked. “What if I told you that was an order?” You knew this had to be a joke, but for some reason the delivery of it felt off. You couldn’t help but catch the bit of yearning behind his fake demanding tone. How were you supposed to say no to that? Especially when there was a chance that he was serious. If anything, you could simply state you were following orders. There was no way you could be outed… right?

The thought of doing so made your head spin. You couldn’t tell his intentions and it was a bit overwhelming. The possibility of being outed, and having Roy disgusted with you, caused a wave of anxiety to hit. You began to sweat beneath your shirt, still looking for any sort of social cue. Roy groaned and placed his left hand over his eyes. “You are no fun…” He grumbled. For some reason he sounded genuinely upset, and that was all you needed to hear. Now, you were sure he was serious. “Okay.” He uncovered his eyes and sat up slightly. “Okay?” “Okay.”

You removed your uniform boots and sighed, awkwardly lying next to Roy. For some reason, knowing he was serious made it even more anxiety inducing. Though he was half asleep, Roy noticed your stiffness and wrapped an arm around you, laying his head on your chest. This caused your cheeks to warm. He smirked and closed his eyes, placing his other hand on your abdomen to rest. You moved your arm to support Roy’s head and placed your hand on his shoulder, fully holding him.

You took a few breaths and attempted to calm yourself, oblivious to the fact that Roy could hear your heartbeat. Deep down Roy was as smug as ever, but he decided to keep that to himself, not wanting to add to your anxiety. “Is this… okay?” You mumbled, unsure of how exactly this was supposed to work. Being in the closet caused you to avoid relationships, fearful that someone would harm you, or worse, your partner.

“Yes, Y/N. This is fine.” He stated reassuringly, holding in a chuckle. You exhaled in relief and lifted your right hand, threading your fingers through his hair. Though it seemed spiky, it was surprisingly soft, which was a pleasant surprise. Roy hummed and let you comb through his hair, feeling a bit generous today. Especially since you did agree to comfort him as he slept. Though, he’d never admit this.

You closed your eyes and continued to card your fingers through each strand, feeling the fatigue begin. After a few minutes you opened one eye, peeping down at Roy. He was fast asleep, right arm hugged tightly around your middle. You grinned ear to ear, feeling grateful that you were allowed to see the Colonel in this vulnerable, precious state. You adored seeing his head move slightly upward with each breath you took, and back down when you exhaled.

Was this what relationships felt like? Was your fear causing you to miss out on these moments? You shook these thoughts away, not wanting to ruin this valuable moment. You closed your eyes and held Roy tight, unsure when you’d ever be able to do this again. Even if you couldn’t, this one moment would satisfy you for a lifetime. 

Sorry if this is considered too similar to the last! I’ve been going through a lot lately, and comforting others is really just... stress relief to me. I usually write depending on my mood and I’m sorry if this gets annoying! Any constructive criticism would be great as long as it isn’t too harsh! Thank you for reading!

PS: All my works are unfortunately unedited. I do not have the patience to reread my longer works. Apologies!

                                                                                           Word Count: 1776

[djarinbarnes]

me olvidarás - one

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Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Warnings for the chapter: vivid sex dream, masturbation... faceless javi. I apologize. I just want to get to the good stuff! :D 

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: an undeniable warm summer vacation in Bogotá. simply trying to get away from your nosey, boring parents and live for once, you meet a man who impresses you beyond where your imagination could ever take you.

a/n: first of all, I'd like to thank @demoneyesanddamagedsouls​ for being there for me through the whole writing process of this story so far. With her on the side, constantly hyping me up and giving me feedback, I've written over 5 chapters of this already. The full chapter count for this story hasn't been decided yet. I'll see where it goes <3 Second of all.... enjoy <3

series masterlist

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You hated being back. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was his eyes peering into yours from above. The mustache resting on his upper lip tickling your inner thighs, your neck, your forehead as he trailed kisses down your nose. You wished for the gods to take you back to Colombia. Back to him.

You remembered everything vividly - his hands on your body, the way they held you and the way they warmed your skin as they made their way over your body. There was no point in hiding it. You were completely and utterly in love with him.

It’d been no more than a week since you’d left Bogotá. Since you’d left him. You knew he was busy with his job, but the little he’d called you was somewhat unsettling. You waited for something - anything to happen to let you know he still thought of you - that you weren’t just a summer fling to him.

It came on a random Tuesday evening, and the way it showed itself… Well you could’ve avoided that. You’d just gotten home from one of your daily walks, where you found the proper time and space to think over the things that had happened, when you found your mother in the kitchen, postcard in hand.

The look on your mother’s face let you know exactly what was written on the postcard. “So that was what you were doing all summer, huh?” you felt the redness blooming in your cheeks as she waved it around. “Or should I say this,” she pointed to the scribbles. “Was who you were doing?”

Your eyes widened. Under normal circumstances your mother would’ve never addressed you like that. But you could see she was furious. She had been on your toes every day during your stay in Bogotá about the mystery guy who had drawn you away from them. “Who is he, then?”

You swallowed past the thick lump in your throat as you came to the conclusion, she had no business going through your stuff or reading your mail. “Mom!” You easily snatched the postcard from her hand, much to her dismay. “You can’t just…” you sigh before hiding the postcard behind your back. “He was… just a guy.”

The truth couldn’t be further from the words that had just left your lips. He wasn’t just a guy. No, he wasn’t a guy, he was a man. A man that had shown every crevice of your body pleasure like no one had ever done before. You felt your body react to just the thought about him, and it made you shudder.

You knew your mother would never believe any of the words you were currently trying to defend yourself with. You gave up with a sign and turned on your heel, walking through the house you called home and into the bedroom.

With the slam of your door, you finally looked properly at the postcard in your hand. You recognized the city of Bogotá easily.

Turning the card over in your hand you suck your lip in between your teeth, recollecting every feeling that flowed through your body with his lips against yours, his skin against yours, your bodies moving together as one.

You knew who had sent the card, even though there wasn’t any sender on it. The scribbled Spanish let you know, and boldly enough.

Parece que el destino nos ha juntado aposta. Yo sueño que estás cerca, tan cerca, aquí en mi camita durmiendo contigo, porque estoy pensando en ti otra vez

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

a month earlier

Summer break. God, how you dreaded summer break. Your parents had finally decided to leave the state for vacation, and you were excited to go somewhere you hadn’t been before.

When they had told you about the vacation, you had been overjoyed. Finally, your parents had decided to be a little lively, to go somewhere that wasn’t just safe and sound.

You felt excited when they told you the duration of the vacation as well, and you just couldn’t wait to get going.

Three weeks in Bogotá. It was like a dream come true. You knew some things about Colombia, and the whole corruption of the police and the drug trading from college. It had caught your interest then, and it still intrigued you to get to know more about the city. And since you possibly got to explore some of the city yourself, you were even happier.

You started packing right after your parents told you, to make sure you had everything you needed when you had to travel. They had let you know that the hotel had a pool, so one of the first things in your bag was, of course, your favorite bikini.

You were definitely going to suck up some rays to fill your cells with the D-vitamin. You knew the air was going to be stuffy, humid and warm, but that didn’t make any difference for you at all. You would say you had prepared yourself from home, but there were just some things you never could prepare for.

You were slowly counting down the days until your departure, and you felt more and more excited as the days passed. At the same time, you were nervous. Nervous about the people in general, nervous about meeting new people.

The whole people thing wasn’t really you, and you silently prayed that your parents wouldn’t force you into meeting people you didn’t want to, like they usually did when you were out and about.

Come and meet our friends, they have a son about your age. Maybe you could grow to like each other.

Sure thing.

What your parents didn’t know was, that boys your age didn’t turn you on in the slightest. Quite the contrary, though. There was no legitimate reason for you to be into older men, since you had barely even spoken to men. But from what you had seen in telenovelas to practice your Spanish, the men over 30 definitely spoke to you in another way than younger guys did.

There was something flawlessly sensual about men with stubbles and slight wrinkles encapsulating their eyes, and right now Rafael Novoa was occupying your mind a little bit more than necessary. The whole idea of meeting an older man, an experienced man made your toes and fingers tingle.

You often dreamed about a faceless older man, coming to rescue you for whatever reason your subconsciousness decided to make up, and you loved and cherished those dreams so much. It was wild - your body being able to make you soaking wet, bringing you on the edge of orgasms by just imagining a man in between your legs, often causing you to wake up, startled by an orgasm.

It was an all new feeling, and it kind of scared you. You didn’t really know why you suddenly imagined such raunchy and vivid sexual encounters with men you never saw the face of - but you weren’t one to complain. You secretly hoped - prayed - that your dreams would come every night.

On the very last night before you were due to leave for Colombia with your parents, you had yet another dream. One that left you wanting more, one that left nothing to the imagination. You didn’t remember how it started, but you did know exactly how it ended. And god, if you weren’t seeking that out if you got the chance.

Fingers tangled with someone elses fingers, pressed into the grass above your head - you’re moaning wantonly as the unfamiliar face hidden in the dark leaves lingering, deep kisses against your neck, their hips pressing forcefully into yours, a thick cock deeply imbedded into your core.

Your leg is drawn around their hips, urging them closer and closer, impossibly closer as you breathe out into the night, the soft squelching sound from between you filling your ears along with deep groans, letting you know just the effect you had on the person above you.

Their hips grind into yours, their pelvis grinding forcefully right into your clit, drawing sweet, sweet pleasure into your abdomen, an unfamiliar coil tightening in your belly. You whimper out as the faceless person brings their mouth on top of yours, pushing their tongue into the warmth of your mouth, searching out yours in the darkness.

Then everything turns white - and you wake up in cold sweat, your pussy forcefully convulsing around nothing as you sit up in your bed, brought back to reality, even though you weren’t ready to leave your fantasy just yet. You wanted to see the person your mind had made up, wanted to see who brought you so much pleasure you could come from just imagining it.

You tried closing your eyes, desperate to see something - anything - yet the face never showed itself. Your sheets felt clammy as they stuck to your sweaty thighs and you quickly threw them off yourself before you fan your hands in front of your face, let down by what just happened. God, you wanted to feel that again.

You dart out of bed and into your bathroom, taking in the blush creeping up your neck before you quickly discard your pyjamas, taking a hurried shower to wash the sweat off your body. You don’t want to spend much time in the bathroom that morning, simply wanting to get out into the fresh air outside.

Yet your fingers find their way between your legs as you close your eyes, imagining the same thing you had dreamt just minutes before, as you dip your finger into your wet pussy, your other hand bracing yourself against the wall. You can feel the slick that had come from your dream, and you bite your lip as another finger joins the first easily, and before you know it, yet another.

You had no idea you were able to fit three of your fingers inside of you, yet here you were, and you found yourself quickly approaching the edge where you were sure you were going to fall off. Your thumb circled your clit rapidly, causing your legs to shake as you came on your fingers, your lip tugged in between your teeth to stifle the noise. You quickly cleaned yourself and your fingers before finishing your shower, eager to get going.

The whole drive to the airport, the waiting and the stuffiness of the plane had caused your head to throb, and you silently counted down the hours until you were free of other people. The hours felt excruciatingly slow as you braced yourself on the armrests of the plane, trying to get in an hour of sleep to ease your head.

Nothing worked though. The sound of screaming from a small child had your ears ringing, and even though you felt bad for both the kid and the parents, you had no surplus energy to allow yourself to feel bad. You just felt annoyed. And your ears had popped upon ascend - that didn’t make anything better.

When the plane finally touched down on Colombian ground, you silently cheered while others clapped. Who the fuck claps on a plane? You rolled your eyes as you found your bag in the overhead storage, desperate to get out of the plane quickly. You sighed as you remembered you had to wait for your luggage inside the airport as well.

The whole waiting for your luggage thing went quickly, and within an hour you were unlocking the door to the rented apartment your parents had taken care of. It was small but charming - a tiny kitchenette, a small living room and another room where you suspected the bedroom to be. The bathroom was also tiny, but you didn’t mind. It was a beautiful place.

You pulled your luggage into your bedroom, digging through the suitcases for your sunscreen and a cardigan, pulling it on quickly before leaving your parents to settle in as you ventured out into the bustling streets of Colombia. You don’t know how much time you spent wandering around, but you found something to eat along the way before you made your way back to your apartment as it started to get dark out.

You quickly grew bored in your own company, so when you remembered a bar you had passed on your way home, you quickly went over the options you had before you decided to prep your face in the bathroom, switching your ordinary bra out with a bralette and throwing a silver, sequined top on along with a black skirt. You paired it with some flats - it was Colombia after all, and you weren’t that good at running in heels if it came to it.

You pushed a few things into your handbag before you snuck out of the dark apartment, noticing the darkness of your parent’s on the opposite side of the small garden that separated the two. The door locked easily, and you quickly ventured out into the night, desperately hoping for some adventure to find you.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

next chapter

[cali-holland]

Hubby- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Requested by Anonymous: Hello my love! can I get a cute request? just super cute domestic Tom and y/n. Because we all know love isn't just about the grand gestures, but the simple moments or giggling together and making faces in the mirror as you brush your teeth, him stealing a slice of veggie off the chopping board as you get dinner ready, him complaining that you like too many cushions on the bed, the little mumbled 'love you' as you both go to sleep. I'm down for reading anything like that . love your writing :)

Prompt: Tom makes even the simplest of days amazing.

Word Count: 4800

Warnings: Swearing, sexual jokes/innuendos, some pain (Tom gets hit in the balls at one point), LOTS of fluff

A/N: this is for the lovely @cunaeparker​ ‘s writing challenge, the prompt is in bold! I combined it with the request because it just went so well with all the fluff!!

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

The familiar sound of a cell phone buzzing drew you out of your deep sleep. With your eyes still closed, you cuddled closer to Tom’s chest, hoping that the phone would quit ringing soon. He shifted underneath you as he tried to reach his phone on the nightstand, but seeing as you two were tangled up on your side of the bed and there was basically a mountain of pillows on his side, he couldn’t quite grab it without moving away from you.

“Just leave it.” You mumbled, not wanting him (a.k.a. your pillow) to move.

“Love, it’s my mum.” He laughed lightly, the vibrations running through his bare chest to your cheek. He pressed a kiss to your head, before you shifted off him so he could get his phone. He picked up the call and resumed his position as your morning cuddle buddy. You wrapped an arm around his waist and laid your head back on his chest. His free hand mindlessly found its way to play with your hair.

“No, you didn’t wake us.” Tom told his mother, but the raspiness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by her. He laughed, “Okay, yes, you did.” He paused and you could hear her voice coming through the phone. Tom looked down at you for a moment, “Are we still on for the barbecue this afternoon?”

“We can be?” You answered. You both knew he obviously forgot to mention how his mother invited the two of you to a barbecue.

“Yes, mum, we’ll be there. What do you want us to bring?” He spoke back into the phone. “Vegetables? That’s not broad at all.” You lightly smacked his chest at his sarcasm, and his free hand came down to hold the hand that just hit him, “Okay, yeah we can do a salad.” There was another pause as she spoke to him before he replied, “Y/N would love to make some dessert.” Hearing him sign you up for food, you playfully glared at him. He said goodbye to his mother and tossed his phone to the side. You sat up and straddled his waist on your knees, your hands falling by his head to keep your face above his.

“Looks like we’re going grocery shopping.” Tom smiled up at you innocently, his hands resting on your hips.

“When were you going to tell me your mum invited us over?” You asked.

“Now, I guess,” He shrugged slightly. With his thumbs drawing light circles on your hips, he teasingly added, “When were you going to give me my morning kiss?”

You shrugged in return, but leaned down to kiss him nonetheless. He smiled into the kiss, moving a hand to cradle the back of your head, keeping you in place to continue kissing you.

“Your morning breath’s shit.” He laughed, pulling away from the innocent-turned-a-bit-heated kiss as you sat up straight.

“Yeah, well you have the ugliest bed head I have ever seen.” You teased, ruffling his hair. He caught your wrist, pulling your hand down to in front of his face.

“I believe this hand’s the culprit of that.” He joked, pecking your open palm.

“You weren’t complaining last night.” You shuffled off of him and got out of the bed. Walking over to your shared closet, you started to plan out a nice outfit for the day. “Come on, we gotta go grocery shopping.”

“Wanna shower together? Save time and save water?” Tom suggested, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

“You get so horny in the morning.” You laughed.

“I’m needy, not horny.” He insisted before pressing a kiss to your neck. “We’ll be conserving water. C’mon, wifey, think of the planet.”

“Alright, go start the shower.” Both of you knew you would cave like almost every morning, but it didn’t stop him from letting out an excited cheer. He pecked your cheek and left to go warm up the water.

Once you two were showered and dressed, you went to make some bacon and eggs for breakfast while Tom made you both a morning cup of tea.

“Bacon,” You stated, holding out a piece of bacon from your spot by the stove as he fixed you some tea at the island. He leaned over and ate the bacon from your fingers.

“Tasty.” He hummed, turning back to his task.

“It’s bacon, duh.” You laughed, eating a piece of bacon yourself.

“Shit. We don’t have any more milk.” Tom sighed, looking at the blank spot in the fridge where the milk would normally sit. He looked at the two mugs of tea and the bowl of sugar on the counter; without milk, it just wouldn’t be right.

“Did you finish it off?” You asked, knowing he made himself a cup of tea late last night before you two went to bed.

“Damn it, I did.” He let out a groan.

“So we need milk.” You noted, taking out your phone to create a legitimate list for the store; it’d be too long for you to remember everything. “What do we want for dinner tomorrow?”

“Wanna try that lamb recipe you found last week?” He suggested.

“Yeah, can you check what we need for that?”

“You got it.” He nodded and pulled out his phone. You’d sent him the recipe just last week, saying that it looked good and that you two should try to make it sometime. He’d never made lambchops before so he was a bit skeptical, but agreed with you nonetheless. He walked through your kitchen and pantry, searching to make sure you had all of the ingredients, while you continued to finish cooking the eggs and bacon.

“Breakfast done yet?” He asked, finishing his search.

“Yep,” You replied as you dished up the food.

“You’re the best, darling.” Tom beamed, giving you a quick kiss. You grabbed both plates while he gathered the silverware and you both sat down at the small table in your kitchen nook.

“If only we had milk.” He pouted, eating a bite of the eggs.

“Hey, you drank the rest of it.” You reminded him.

“If I remember correctly, you said it was the best cuppa I’d ever made and you drank a good half of that.” He corrected you, but you just shook your head. “Wanna make that chocolate cake for dessert? I know Harry and Sam are going to be expecting it.”

Homemade chocolate cake- your ‘signature’ dessert that all of the Holland boys loved. In fact, it was that very cake that made Tom fall in love with you. The way to his heart was truly through his stomach.

“Why isn’t Sam making anything? He’s the chef.” You laughed, thinking about how Sam was insistent on being the head chef of the family.

“I think he’s actually making bread with some sort of dip.”

“Sam’s making us bread?” Your mouth was already watering at the thought of fresh homemade bread.

“We should try making bread sometime.” Tom offered. You nodded in agreement, you’d never made bread before but it’d be interesting to attempt it with Tom.

With breakfast over, Tom started to load up the dishwasher with your plates and the frying pans while you made your way into the bathroom to start on your makeup. By the time he’d finished and come into the room, you were just about to start your mascara.

“Can I do it?” He asked, an eager smile on his face.

“Don’t poke me in the eye, Holland.” You said, trying to sound threatening. You sat on the bathroom counter with your legs spread so he could stand between them. You handed him the mascara tube. He had done your mascara a couple times before (because he just really really wanted to try to do your makeup) so you trusted him to do it, for the most part. As long as he didn’t stab you somehow, then you were fine. You sat still while he applied the makeup to your lashes.

“There. Does that look good, wifey?” He stepped back enough for you to turn and look in the mirror. It was even, you had to give him props for that, but it was almost nonexistent. He was still trying to find the happy medium between applying too little and applying too much.

“You did great.” You gave him a quick kiss and hopped off the counter to full face the mirror again. You applied some more mascara on your lashes quickly and he shook his head.

“I’ll get it one day.” He stated, getting out the toothbrush as you laughed lightly at him. Tom grabbed your toothbrush and his, running them under the sink before applying toothpaste to them.

“Thank you,” You smiled as he handed you your toothbrush. 

“Can we get bananas and macadamia nuts too?” Tom asked, half muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth as he stopped brushing. You spit out the toothpaste into the sink, looking at him through the mirror.

“You want me to make banana nut bread again?” You questioned, before continuing to brush your teeth.

“It’s the best.” He nodded.

“Okay, we’ll get the stuff for it.” You reassured him. He pulled out his phone, looking at a text he’d received as you eyed him through the mirror. Even when doing something as simple as brushing his teeth, your boyfriend was just breathtaking and you felt so lucky to have him. He noticed your gaze and pulled a funny face- well, as best he could while brushing his teeth. You laughed and leaned over the sink, spitting out the mixture of toothpaste and saliva in your mouth as you coughed. If it was anyone else beside you, you would’ve been embarrassed by the unattractiveness of the scene, but it was Tom, your loving boyfriend of four years.

“God, you’re making me choke on spit.” You laughed, cleaning off your toothbrush under the faucet.

“Spitters are quitters, babe.” Tom teased you and you playfully elbowed him in the torso, causing him to yelp in surprise. You stepped aside so he could use the sink. After spitting into the sink and rinsing out his mouth, he turned to you with a cheeky grin, “I know, I know. I of all people should know you’re not a spitter.”

“Fuck off.” You rolled your eyes at him, spraying some of your perfume onto your neck. Your collection of perfume sat in the corner of the bathroom counter, right next to Tom’s own collection of cologne- ironically (but it was totally expected actually) he had more.

“By the way, my mum asked if we could host the barbecue here? Apparently my dad forgot their barbecue was broken.” He asked you as he put on cologne.

“Did you forget to tell me that too?”

“No, no, I swear she just now texted me about it.” He insisted, slipping on a watch while you put on some jewelry. The two of you maneuvering through the bathroom easily in your morning routine.

“That’s fine if we host, but that just means you’re helping me clean.” You stated.

“When do I not help you clean?” He smiled at you innocently and you narrowed your eyes at him. You both knew exactly how much he helped you clean. In all honesty, he would genuinely help you clean for a solid hour, but it was around hour 2 of cleaning that turned into a dance party for him, which turned into him distracting you from cleaning. “I can always ask if Harry could host it, but then Harrison would be there.”

“Oh no, definitely can’t handle Harrison showing up.” You sarcastically rolled your eyes. It was a running joke between the three of you that you and Harrison were competing for Tom’s attention. Harrison was like a brother to you, and there really wasn’t any competition going on, but it was still funny to joke about. “Your mum probably invited him already.”

“She probably did.” He laughed. He shoved off the numerous pillows on his side of the bed, except for the one he actually sleeps on at the head of the bed, “Do we really need that many pillows?”

“They’re comfy!” You insisted, pulling up the bottom sheet on your side as he mirrored your actions across the bed.

“I’m your pillow, you don’t even use them.”

“You’re not wrong, but we’re keeping them.” You smiled while the two of you finished making the bed.

After you two went to the grocery store (and Tom just about dropped most of the groceries while unloading them because he was carrying like ten bags between his two hands since “multiple trips are for the weak, love”), he put away the groceries while you started the laundry. While it wasn’t something his family would actually see when they came later, it’d been piling up for days and you just really needed it to get done.

“What do you want to listen to?” Tom asked as you came back into the kitchen. He sat perched on the kitchen counter with his phone in hand, small bluetooth stereo sitting beside him. Just as you opened your mouth to suggest an artist, he cut you off with a grin, “No One Direction.”

“Shawn Mendes then?” You teased, stepping between his legs.

“Nope.” He shook his head.

“Why’d you ask me then, hubby?” You laughed, taking his phone from his hands and stepping away from him.

“Hey, that’s mine!” He jumped off the counter, trying to grab his phone back.

“Too late.” You smiled as the familiar opening to “Steal My Girl” played over the speakers. You queued a few more random songs on his Spotify and handed his phone back over to him, “Now, you’re on vacuum duty.”

“You said ‘duty’.” He giggled like a schoolboy.

“Thomas,” You sighed. 

“You lined that one up for me!” He gave you a quick kiss. You shook your head at your crazy boyfriend as he wandered off to the closet where you kept the vacuum.

“Everybody wanna steal my girl, everybody wanna take her heart away,” Tom shouted along to the chorus from the other room. “Couple billion in the whole wide world, find another one ‘cause she belongs to me!”

You sang along to the song while you worked on the cake. Once it was in the oven, you started on cutting the array of vegetables for the salad. You weren’t far into the process of washing and cutting the different vegetables before Tom came into the kitchen vacuum in hand.

“Do I get some?” He asked, spying the cucumber you were currently cutting up. He walked over to you, mouth open wide wanting a slice. You gave him a piece of the cucumber and he hummed in content. He cracked open the oven slightly to smell the cake baking in there, “Damn, I should wife you up, you’re great in the kitchen.”

“Uhuh,” You laughed at his comment. While you two called each other wifey/hubby and make “wife me up” jokes, neither of you really were ready for marriage and neither of you felt any pressure to get married. “I left the beaters out for you.”

Tom smiled as he grabbed one of the chocolate covered beaters, licking it like a little kid with a lollipop. The song changed to “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” and your boyfriend wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Don’t go breaking my heart,” He started singing into the beater (that had been mostly licked clean by that nice tongue of his), nodding at you encouragingly to keep singing.

“I couldn’t if I tried,” You sang back, unable to hide your smile at his antics.

“Oh honey, if I get restless,”

“Baby, you’re not that kind”

He set the beater aside to take your hands in his, pulling you in to dance with him. Your little impromptu dancing and singing party ended when the song changed and you pulled him back to the reality that was cleaning. While Tom finished vacuuming the house and cleaning the tables outside, you completed the salad and cake and cleaned the kitchen.

“Wanna watch something until my parents show up?” Tom asked you from his spot on the couch in the living room as you began to move the laundry.

“Sure, just fold these.” You said, walking into the living room. He frowned, hoping he was done with household chores. Seeing his reaction, you emptied the laundry basket of clean clothes on him.

“Hey, I’m layin’ here!” He did in his best overdramatic New Yorker impression.

“Fold the laundry, Dustin Hoffman.” You shook your head at him before leaving to finish moving the laundry around. You called back to him from the other room, “When is your family coming?”

“About twenty minutes?” Tom replied, checking his phone quickly to look at the time.

“Did you see if Haz was coming?” You asked, coming back into the room to help him fold the clothes.

“Why? You wanna see Haz that desperately?” He joked.

“Oh obviously. What’s the point of moving in with you if I can’t show off to Haz that I’m winning?” You teased. Tom threw a sock at you, shaking his head with a laugh. 

“Yeah, Harry said he’s coming. We’ve got an even number for football now.” He smiled, ready to play against his brothers.

“I’m so going to kick your ass after what happened last time.” You stated.

“Darling, you know that was an accident.” Tom insisted, still feeling a bit guilty about the incident. Last time you were playing football with him, his brothers, and Harrison, he accidentally kicked the ball in your face while you were even on the same team. Luckily, there was no mark, but Tom was even clingier than usual as he felt incredibly guilty about it. It occurred a month ago and you were ready for payback.

“I’m just teasing.” You smiled, leaning over the pile of laundry to give him a kiss. The two of you worked silently on finishing up folding the clothes until Tom’s eyes landed on your lacy black underwear, cheekily smiling at you while he held it up.

“Your boyfriend must be so lucky to see you in this.”

“Oh those? Didn’t buy ‘em for him.” You teased, taking the underwear from his hands and putting it aside. Tom’s hands grabbed your waist and he pulled you into his lap.

“I’m so lucky to have you. You’re my favorite person.” He said as you rested your forehead against his.

“You’re my favorite person, too.” Your hands rested at the back of his neck as you leaned in to kiss him. With your fingers scratching the nape of his neck lightly as they played with his hair there and his hands bringing you even more tightly against him, you two started to get caught up in the moment; nothing lustful, just passionate and romantic. You broke the kiss, your nose resting against his as you looked into his eyes, both of you a bit breathless.

You jumped hearing the doorbell ring. His family was here, and that meant the laundry needed to be off the couch and hidden in your room. As Tom went to answer the door, you hurried to move the laundry to your room, quickly folding the last few articles of clothing.

“Smells clean in here, must be Y/N.” Sam teased his older brother as he walked into the house with Tessa at his feet. He held a container of the freshly baked bread while his parents and Paddy came in behind him, bringing in the uncooked main course. Tom rolled his eyes at Sam’s comment, leaning down to give Tessa some well deserved love. You had lived with Tom for almost two years now, and his brothers still loved to poke fun at how organized and well-decorated his house is. Harry and Harrison trailed shortly after them, holding a ball for later and a case of beer as their contribution for the evening. You came out of the bedroom, having put the laundry away enough for now, and greeted your second family.

“Were we interrupting something?” Harrison snickered, spotting the underwear you had accidentally left on the couch.

“It’s laundry day. Get your head out of the gutter.” Tom quickly grabbed the offending undergarment and haphazardly threw it in your room before closing the door.

“Gross.” Harry gagged.

“So no sitting on the couch.” Sam laughed.

“Don’t sit anywhere then if you’re so concerned.” You smacked your boyfriend for his teasing comment that wasn’t completely untrue. Though you loved the Hollands and they loved you, you still weren’t comfortable with the sex jokes in front of his parents, that’s just never a good topic.

“Sam, that bread smells heavenly.” You told him, effectively changing the topic.

“Thank you. I tried a new recipe to make the artichoke dip to go with it.” He explained as you all moved out of the house to the outside table. He set the container of the table and opened it up so you could see (and smell even more) the bread.

You got wrapped up in a conversation with Sam and Nikki as you pet Tessa, who sat happily at your feet. Tom and his dad got the barbecue together while the other three boys started to kick around the ball on the grass.

“Wanna be on my team, wifey?” Tom asked you, walking up behind your chair and resting his head on your shoulder, letting his hands fall to your lap.

“Hell no, I told you I was getting payback.” You replied, making Sam laugh while his older brother pouted.

“Pwease?” He grabbed your hands in his, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Too late, she’s on my team.” Sam piped up, despite the fact that teams hadn’t even been discussed yet.

“We’re stealing your girl.” Harry said, kicking the ball over to Tom. You unwrapped yourself from Tom’s arms to stand up as his pout grew bigger.

“Aw, you’re breaking his heart. Does this mean I’m the favorite now?” Harrison asked with a hopeful smile. 

“Only if we win.” Tom stated, picking up the ball and walking over to the far side of the yard with Harrison and Paddy.

“So that’s a no.” You smiled at Harrison. Tom set the ball between the two teams, in the middle of the two ‘goalposts’ (a.k.a. the cones Tom set up on either side of the yard months ago).

The game began and Harrison was doing his best to block you from getting the ball (and keeping Tom from getting distracted by you). The Hollands were, of course, getting a bit more physical than regular football, kicking each other and shoving a bit, as brothers do. The game was 2-0 with you and the twins winning. When Paddy passed the ball to Harrison, you managed to swipe it from him. You sent it over to Sam and Tom basically slide tackled his brother to get it.

“That’s a foul!” You shouted as Sam landed on the grass with a soft ‘thud’.

“Nope!” Tom exclaimed, kicking the ball through Harry’s legs and into the goal. He cheered with Harrison and Paddy while you helped up Sam, who was fine and used to the physicalness of it all. This time, you started off with the ball and Harrison tried to steal it back, but you were too fast in swiftly kicking it to Harry, who Paddy was trying to block.

“Elbow him!” Tom called out, running about in front of Sam to block him.

“Tom,” Nikki said in a warning tone when he started to push Sam back a bit.

“I need to win!” He replied. Harry passed the ball back to you and you dribbled it down the makeshift field.

“Go away!” Sam shoved his older brother, trying to get him out of the way.

“Fine!” Tom huffed, running over to you. Harrison took it as a sign to go block the open twin.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” You asked your boyfriend as he attempted to kick the ball out from your feet, but your movements were too quick for him. You nutmegged him, sending the ball straight through his legs to Harry. Your perfect pass was defeated by Paddy stealing the ball from him. Before you could move to block him, Tom picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

“Go Pads!” He cheered, holding your waist as you kicked your feet in the air.

“Tom, put me down! This is cheating!” You shouted. You felt Tom’s hand shift subtly more to your butt than your hip, making you slap his back. With you caught up with Tom, Paddy scored the goal easily.

“Hey, now, no inappropriate touching in front of the Padster.” Harry teased, seeing his brother’s hand placement.

“Shove off!” Paddy threw the ball over to his curly haired brother.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tom chuckled, setting you down.

“You’re going to regret that.” You told him, before Harry kicked the ball to signal the game was back on. Knowing his distraction would most likely not work again, Tom switched places with Harrison, going back to beating up Sam.

“Food will be done in two minutes.” Dom announced and you all knew that meant this was the speed round. The stakes were high with both teams tied. After a few minutes of Tom basically playing keep away when he finally got the ball, he kicked it over to Paddy. Harry elbowed his brother and sent the ball to you. Not even stopping it to gain control, you kicked it straight at their open goal.

It would’ve gone in and you would’ve won if Tom hadn’t jumped in the way to save it.

“Ah, fuck!” He shouted, grabbing himself while the rest of the boys grimaced and laughed. Even you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing a little at his mistake. Seeing an opportunity to make a goal with everyone paused, Sam kicked the ball in and he and Harry cheered- you won.

“Baby, you alright?” You asked, going over to Tom who was still bent over in pain.

“God, you really were going for payback.” He groaned, but nodded that he was okay.

“We won!” Sam and Harry cheered as everyone sat down around the table with Dom serving up the food.

“I’m sorry you got in the way of my glorious kick.” You told Tom, holding his hand in yours.

“Yeah, it was a really good kick.” He winced a little.

Dinner and dessert with the Hollands + Harrison (the honorary Holland) went on without any more injuries (unless you count Harry shoving a piece of cake in Paddy’s face as a joke). Goodbyes went all around as they left later, and Tom did the rest of the dishes while you cleaned outside.

“You feeling better?” You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, once you finished outside. He stopped his work at the sink.

“Better. I thought you broke it for a few minutes there.” Tom laughed, washing his hands and drying them before turning around in your arms.

“Oh no, we wouldn’t want that.” You teased, “I’d have to go find another dick until it healed.”

“Is that all I am to you? A dick appointment?” He asked with a small laugh, pulling you in closer to him by your waist.

“No, you’re my favorite person in the world.” You smiled at him tenderly as he ran a hand through your hair and rested it on your cheek.

“You’re my favorite person, too.” He leaned down to give you a soft kiss.

The romantic, sweet moment was cut short by his next teasing comment, “You know, that kick was really great. I’m still impressed. You really know your way around balls.”

“Shut up and kiss me, hubby.”

[jalapeno-princess]

Be Mine Again

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst (With a happy ending)

Word Count: 10.6K

Summary: Mark practically lived on airplanes; being a KPOP idol meant he was constantly traveling. Waking up early to head over to the airport was something he was used to. However, these last few months for Mark have been an actual living hell. He was exhausted beyond belief, having only three hours of sleep and so he decided to grab some coffee. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary; the Seoul airport was busy as always, yet that doesn’t stop him from noticing that the customer that was currently being rung reminded him of you. It’s been a while since he’s last seen you, but Mark knew you like the back of his hand. When he comes to the realization that it is you, he comes to accept the fact that the two of you at the same place at the same time wasn’t just merely coincidence and he wasn’t going to take this chance for granted.

A/N: Hey guys, I have two papers due in less than two hours, but I wanted to post this by tonight (PRIORITIES) hahahahahaha if I don’t graduate in May, we all know why. I actually wrote this last year but I never had the motivation to finish it. However, the words just kept flowing out and here we are. I’m still trying to get my motivation back to continue other stories, but until then, please enjoy this one! This is based on the song “Wake me up” by Ed Sheeran.

I should ink my skin With your name And take my passport out again And just replace it

See I could do without a tan on my left hand Where my fourth finger meets my knuckle And I should run you a hot bath And fill it up with bubbles

'Cause maybe you're lovable Maybe you're my snowflake And your eyes turn from green to gray In the winter I'll hold you in a cold place And you should never cut your hair 'Cause I love the way you flick it off your shoulder

And you will never know Just how beautiful you are to me But maybe I'm just in love When you wake me up

Mark was never a morning person but it was quite understandable. He’d always have to wake up at the crack of dawn and head to dance practice or to the studio for a recording session. Luckily today was his first legitimate day off in months and he wanted nothing more than to sleep in till noon and spend the rest of his day doing nothing with you. 

To his dismay, he found himself waking up a bit too early for his liking because he noticed the bed seemed more spacious and you weren’t there when he reached out to pull you closer to his body. Your boyfriend knew you weren’t a morning person either and with the way your job was overworking you to the bone these days, Mark knew you were just as tired as he was and needed a well deserved break; so where exactly could you have gone? 

His questions were soon answered when the scent of bacon and blueberry pancakes filled your bedroom and he couldn’t help but grin at the idea of you making breakfast. It’s been a while since the two of you really got to spend time together. He’s been on tour with Got7 for the last six months and you were only able to visit him three times during the entire tour because your schedule was just as hectic as his was. 

He couldn’t wait to spend time with his favorite girl and hopefully you had the same ideas of how the day was going to play out. Once he put on some boxers and a t-shirt to look more decent, he made his way in to the living room and toward the kitchen but stopped once his eyes landed on your curvaceous figure. 

You were currently wearing his t-shirt from the night before and a cute little thong that left little to the imagination and his mind began to wander to your little love making session a few hours prior. He had to bite his lip to prevent himself from groaning at how sexy you looked and making his presence known but he didn’t care. 

Mark loved making it aware just how much of an effect you had on him. Your boyfriend wasn’t all that secretive in trying to hide that he had just joined you and you could hear his footsteps as he made his way toward you, so you weren’t as surprised when you felt his arms wrap lazily around your waist as he placed his chin on your shoulder. 

“Good morning baby. Smells good, and I’m not talking about the food.” You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment and although you couldn’t see him, you knew by the intonation in his voice that he was smiling. 

“How are you feeling this morning? I didn’t go too rough on you did I?” You decided to turn around and stole a chaste kiss from the corner of his mouth before playfully pinching his cheek. 

“You give yourself too much credit Tuan. I’m walking around just fine aren’t I?” 

The adorable pout he gave you after your cheeky response sent warmth to your cheeks but you know it was all just an act. Mark knew you were just messing with him because as the two of you were having sex, you wouldn’t stop screaming his name in pleasure and begging him to go faster. Normally your love making sessions were always so passionate and tender; full of love confessions and sensual touches. However, last night was a little more on the dominant and rough side not that you were complaining. 

Got7’s world tour ended just three days ago and as soon as Mark landed back in Korea yesterday afternoon, he made a beeline straight to your shared apartment and both showed you and told you just how much he’s missed you since he’s been away the entire day. You had a couple of bruises on your hips, thighs and around your neck but you didn’t care. As much as you loved how soft and extremely caring Mark could be whenever it came to you, you loved his kinky and animalistic side just a little bit more. 

“Hmm, I guess I’m just going to have to change your mind by fucking your brains out the entire day then huh? Oh, by the way, you look so fucking sexy in my shirt y/n. God, I don’t know how I can go so long without seeing you and kissing you, it’s fucking torture. I missed you so much baby.” 

You smiled widely in to the kiss when he practically smashed his lips against yours and you automatically wrapped your arms around his neck; wanting to be as close to him as possible. He only deepened the kiss and turned off the stove before hoisting you on top of the kitchen counter and finding his way in between your legs. Being in a long distance relationship was extremely tough and it was even harder knowing that your boyfriend was one of the biggest international celebrities in the entire world. 

Sometimes, you’d forget you were dating a Kpop idol because Mark seemed like such a normal guy. To the world, he was Got7’s main rapper Mark Tuan but to you, he was your cheesy and extremely corny boyfriend who cried at Disney movies, didn’t know how to multiply numbers once they went in to the double digits and always left the toilet seat up no matter how many times you’d remind him to put it down. 

You never viewed him to be anyone other than the man you were in a relationship with and he never did or said anything to make you feel uncomfortable in your relationship. He did his best to keep in touch with you as much as he could and he used every minute of his free time to check up on you and make sure you were doing okay. Your happiness was Mark’s number one priority and he did anything in his power to make sure you were happy and got whatever you wanted. 

“I missed you too. I actually took the rest of the week off because a little birdie told me you guys don’t have any schedule until Tuesday so I want to spend as much time with you as possible. I’m all yours Mark. Do whatever you want with me.” 

You regretted those words the minute they fell from your lips because of the mischievous grin that quickly rose on his face. Mark was a very playful and cheeky guy. From previous experience, you learned that your boyfriend had many tricks up his sleeve. Making love to you was his favorite past time and he would take advantage of any time he physically had with you. 

“Anything?” You nodded in agreement; you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see what Mark had planned for the two of you but knowing him, it had to deal with him being the dominant one and maybe even getting to accomplish one of his kinks. 

“Yes, but to an extent. No anal—don’t look at me like that I told you it’s a big no babe. Oh and no bondage. You know how I get when I’m tied up. But I do want to try that one position I sent to you.” His grip on your waist tightened and he sneakily hid his face in the crook of your neck only to leave a couple of sloppy love bites there. 

“Mmm, I’ll do anything you ask of me baby. Why don’t we skip breakfast and I can eat you out instead—ow! I hope you’re this rough with me in bed later on.” 

The airport was extremely busy today and Mark cursed his manager for scheduling a couple of photo shoots for him during one of the busiest seasons of the year; winter. Everyone was either going on a trip or returning home for one and with him being the former, he was frustrated with how long the lines at security were and how many paparazzi showed up at his gate just to take photos of him. 

It wasn’t that Mark didn’t love being an idol. He loved performing and entertaining all of his fans alongside of his six best friends. He loved writing songs, loved traveling the world and experiencing so many different cultures, food and adventures while they were on tour. However, he was willing to give it all up if it meant getting you back in his life. You were everything Mark could ever want and need in his life. 

The two of you were together for almost four years and if soulmates existed, you were Mark’s as he was yours. You meant the world to him and he loved you more than he could ever put in to words. Which is why he was completely devastated when you told him you were breaking up with him. The break up wasn’t completely unexpected; that is why Mark wasn’t too shocked when you told him you could no longer handle the long distance and that you felt like you weren’t too important to him. 

Mark knew that wasn’t the truth and he could only hope that you didn’t ultimately think so either, but after five months of being away from you, it gave Mark time to think where he went wrong and what caused you to finally give up on your relationship with him. Being an idol wasn’t all that easy, but dating one must’ve been ten times more difficult. 

Not only was he gone most of the time, but the time difference really did interfere with your communication schedule. If he was waking up, you were getting ready for bed and if he was right about to go to sleep, you were clocking in to work. You only really ever got to talk to him on the weekends if you were lucky and even if Mark did his best to contact you and to check up on you, it wasn’t the same as spending time with him and talking with him face to face rather than through a phone screen. 

Then came your insecurities. Mark knew how insecure you could get when it came to dating him. If he was in your shoes, he’d be pretty insecure too, so it was understandable. But he never failed to reassure you that you were the only girl he genuinely ever loved and planned on loving for the rest of his life. He told you on a daily basis that he planned on marrying you and settling down with you one day once his idol life were to simmer down. 

You tried your best to be patient and understanding when it came to dating him because not only was he in a relationship with you, but he was in a relationship with his career and as much as Mark tried to prioritize you and your relationship, deep down you knew you’d always come second to his job. When you confessed your feelings and thoughts to him, to say he was upset that you were breaking up with him was an understatement. 

Did you fall out of love with him? Was there someone else? Did you finally come to the realization that you deserved better? There were so many thoughts that ran through his head and all he could do was sink to his knees and cry while pathetically wrapping his arms around your legs and begging you to stay. In your four years of dating, Mark grew to know what an independent and determined person you were and how you had such a great head on your shoulders.

He knew that when you set your heart to something, you always accomplished it; a breakup was no different and no matter how many times he’d beg and pleaded for you to stay, your mind was already made up and there was nothing he could do to stop you. Mark knew it was selfish to want you to stay. Your relationship wasn’t the healthiest; the two of you had your fair share of arguments and disagreements. But your love was always enough to defeat any negative thought or idea you had. 

This time was different though and you were extremely tired of not being as important to Mark as he was to you. You put him on a pedestal; you gave him the world on a silver platter and he could barely give you a couple minutes of his time because he was always so busy. For months, you’ve been debating on breaking up with him, especially because you were so in love with him and just like Mark, you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him and only him. 

However, the longer you continued your relationship, the more unhappy you became and sometimes it felt as if you weren’t even in a relationship. Breaking up with Mark was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do in your entire life and as soon as he sank on to the floor, sobbing and heaving; begging you to change your mind, you knew you made a mistake. Mark has never been the same since you’ve left. 

Although it’s been over five months since the night you broke his heart and took whatever was left of it with you, things only got worse for him as the days went on. He missed you more and more every day and even if the guys did their best in cheering him up and attempting to help him move on by setting him up with other girls, there was just no getting over you. 

As soon as Mark and his manager got settle down at their gate, they took their seats and Mark decided to stay away from his phone for a while. Sometimes, all the comments, posts, direct messages and tweets on social media could be so toxic and he couldn’t help but overthink at all the negativity. It was in those moments where he would run to you. 

Other than Got7 and his family, you were the only person he trusted and he trusted you with his entire life. That says a lot. Mark was an extremely private person. He had a hard time trusting and opening up to people. The only reason why he portrayed himself as such a shy and introverted person was because he didn’t want people taking advantage of him and his kindness. 

After meeting you, getting to know you and dating you for so long, Mark learned that his happiness, health and success was your main priority. You always stayed up until the wee hours of the morning to talk to him and to listen to him vent about his worries and all of his problems and not once did you complain about how tired you probably were or how repetitive he was sounding but that’s because you loved him so much and wanted to be there for him no matter what time it was, who you were with or what you were doing. 

You’d drop anything and everyone for Mark and he was forever grateful. You were so selfless and never expected anything in return for your patience and generosity. Mark always felt so safe with you. You were his home and God, he was homesick. He took a look at his passport in disgust. This was one of the main reasons why you could no longer handle being in a relationship with him. 

Almost every single page was filled out with many difference countries and cities all around the world. China, Japan, Australia, New York, Russia, Italy, Brazil, Philippines. He only had a couple of pages left to fill up and he knew he’d need a new passport by the end of the month. What bothered him even more was knowing that he had just gotten this passport less than five months ago. 

Right after he returned back home to your upsetting decision, his management gave him a new passport and informed him that he had a schedule in Thailand just three days later. It wasn’t that he hated traveling; no. Mark loved seeing all these different places, trying their food, meeting their people and learning about their cultures. 

It was being away from you that he hated the most. No matter how many times you told him you were excited for him to explore and live his best life, he knew you wanted to be there alongside of him experiencing it all too because that’s all he wanted. Every high that went on in his life, he wanted you right there by his side basking in his excitement with him. 

Learning how to live without you was a painful experience and he became so unhappy to the point where he took a few days off from the tour in order to see a therapist for his depression. Mark knew how much you meant to him the minute he told Jaebeom he wanted to leave Got7 in order to be with you. 

The leader thought it was an extremely abrupt and stupid decision on Mark’s part but he understood where his older friend was coming from. He witnessed the way you and Mark looked at one another. If he had to describe what love was, it was in your gazes alone that could explain what the four letter word meant. 

Everyone and their mothers knew just how much you and Mark loved and cared for one another. When Mark told the six of them that you broke up with him, they were in disbelief. Sure, the six of them had girlfriends and even a couple of flings and one night stands every now and then but you were the only constant girlfriend amongst their group and they all felt that you both would get married to each other once their careers were to settle down. 

Jinyoung and Jackson were the closest with Mark; so they saw just how much the breakup had wrecked him and no matter how much they tried to tell him that you were going to come back and that you just needed some time without him, he didn’t believe anything anyone had to say. If you still loved him, you’d still be with him no matter how hard your relationship was. The passport began to taunt him the longer he stared at it. 

“This is all your fucking fault.” He began to flick at the pages earning himself a look of confusion from his manager. 

“Hey, everything okay?” Mark shook his head in disagreement. 

“I’m just tired. I’ll go get some coffee or something. Be right back.” 

He didn’t care what his manager’s response was and he couldn’t care less if he were to get followed. Mark wasn’t even much of a coffee person. You were taking up the entirety of his thinking process and he just needed some time to think. Something to distract him. When he walked up to the coffee shop, there were two people in front of him but he paid none of them any mind and went on his phone. 

The guys were wishing him safe travels and hoped that the photo shoot and filming for a reality tv show he was going to be on went well. A small smile rose on his face at the idea of how much they all loved and cared about him. He really didn’t know what he were to do or how he would cope without them. 

“I’ll have a venti iced matcha latte. Thank you.” 

It was in that moment that time froze. He knew that voice anywhere. It was etched in to the back of his head and imprinted on his heart. Your laugh along with your sweet, soft voice was one of Mark’s favorite sounds and he would listen to you talk all day if he could. He looked at the person currently at the cash register and shook his head in disbelief. Mark had to be hallucinating. It must’ve been the lack of sleep. There was no way that could’ve been you. 

The girl had extremely short hair, up to her shoulders compared to the long, silky waves you’ve had for the last few years that Mark loved so much. She was also wearing something completely different than what you had in your wardrobe. The older boy knew you like the back of his hand. He knew each and every curve on your body; on top of every birth and beauty mark scattered throughout your skin. Surely he would’ve known if it was you. It was possible for someone to have the same exact voice as you—wasn’t it? 

Sure, the girl ordered your favorite drink, but everyone seemed to be in to matcha these days. It didn’t mean anything. Bringing his attention back to his phone, he tried his best to take his mind off of comparing you and the girl in front of him. However, once the cashier asked for the girl’s name, his entire world came crashing down on him. 

“Y/n.” 

It was you. But so much has changed about you in the last few months. Once you got out of line and made your way off to the side, it was in that moment Mark confirmed that yes, it was you. So many questions began running through his mind. What were you doing there at the airport? Why did you cut your hair and change your style? Was it an effect of the breakup? Did you know he was there? You had to—or least have heard that some kind of celebrity was there with the way that the paparazzi and fans were filling up the gateway. 

A part of him wanted to turn around and pretend as if he didn’t see you, but another part of him, one he understood was his heart was begging for him to go and talk to you. It would be alright wouldn’t it? It’s been months and the two of you started off as friends in the first place. It was only normal for him to say hi. Matter of a fact, it would’ve been rude if he didn’t. Once he made his way up to the cashier, he was quick to see the way a grin quickly rose on her face. 

“Hi, what can I get for you to—today.” He gave her a polite smile before looking up at the menu board. 

“Just a grande iced caramel macchiato with two shots of espresso please—oh and one cream cheese scone. Thank you.” He reached out to take out his wallet but she shook her head. 

“It’s on the house Mark. I’m a huge fan. Have a nice rest of your day.” 

He thanked her politely and wished her a nice day before making his way toward where you were standing. You were currently on your phone and he began to have an internal argument with himself on whether or not he should go up and talk to you. What could go wrong? 

Well, you could pretend as if you didn’t know who he was and just leave him looking like an idiot, or you could start a conversation with him like you normally did. Right as he was about to open his mouth and say something to you, his order was being called. He looked over to where you were standing to see if hearing his name had any effect on you, but you continued to stand there and scrolled through your phone. 

Just go you idiot. She’s obviously moved on, let her be. 

Listening to his conscience would’ve been the smart thing to do, but Mark was never all that bright and he bought that scone specifically for you. Taking in a deep breath, he walked over to you and before he could say anything, you looked up to see the new presence that joined you in the corner and practically jumped as if you saw a ghost. Although you looked completely different, you still looked breathtakingly beautiful. 

You lost some weight which was expected from how hard you’ve been working, you weren’t wearing any makeup other than what Mark knew was tinted moisturizer and when he noticed you were wearing the necklace he bought for you on your third anniversary, his heart rate increased. 

“Hey.” 

You continued to look up at him in shock and he couldn’t help the giggle that fell from his lips at how adorable you looked. Your eyes were widened in shock and it was as though you saw a ghost. Technically, he was considerably a ghost of your past—so seeing your blank expression did tug on his heartstrings. He might have thought that approaching you was a good idea once he first laid his eyes on you and confirmed that it was indeed you, but now he was regretting it. When he realized you weren’t going to say anything, he handed you the scone. 

“I uh—I got this for you. I know how much you love your cream cheese scones.” 

After taking in a couple of deep breaths, you finally allowed yourself to process what was going on and that’s when you felt a tear fall down your cheek. 

“Thank you. Um—hi—sorry, I—hi. How have you been?” 

Although it was you who initiated the break up, you found yourself following and keeping up with everything Got7 was doing. Specifically the man standing in front of you. Seeing him again after your last night together made you feel a whole bunch of emotions. You were excited but your heart felt as if it was about to burst out of your chest. You had no right to crave his presence, you broke his heart and decided you no longer wanted to be the lucky girl who got to love him and be loved by him. 

It wasn’t that you wanted to break up with him. Breaking up with Mark was the biggest mistake you’ve ever made. He was your person. Your soulmate. Your safe haven. The man standing in front of you was all you wanted for the rest of your life. But it was all getting too much for you at one point. The long distance was getting too much for you to handle. 

Then came the rumors; no matter how quick he was to shut down any rumor, it was only natural for you to grow insecure and feel as if there was something going on with him and the idols he was included in rumors with. Your mental health was worsening the longer he was away and it was affecting your job and your education. You knew that breaking up with him was a permanent decision and that there was no going back once it happened. However, all you knew and have ever known was Mark. 

You always lived for him; always put him first. You needed to live without him. You needed to grow and learn to love yourself before you could continue loving him. The feeling of his finger wiping away the tear that fell made butterflies erupt in your tummy. His touch felt all too familiar yet so foreign and you wanted nothing more than for him to continue. 

“I’m uh—I’m alright. What are you doing here? You look extremely beautiful by the way. Although, I always preferred your long hair, short hair looks really good on you.” 

You didn’t have to see yourself to know your cheeks were probably red from his sweet words. Mark always knew exactly what to say to make you blush. Plus, it’s been a while since someone complimented you and the last time someone did, it just so happened to be the beautiful boy standing in front of you. Mark complimented you on a daily basis as if his life depended on it. He was very vocal about wanting you to know just how beautiful you are and how he thinks the entire world of you. 

“Thank you. I wanted to try something new I guess. It was getting too hard to manage and Korea is extremely hot during the summer. You look great! Your hair is really long now, but I like it. I’m actually going to Vietnam for a conference. What about you?” 

He gave you a knowing look as he shrugged indifferently. He didn’t want to bring it up, he was afraid of what would happen once he brought up work. The last thing he wanted was to ruin things before they could even begin to bloom. 

“I have a couple of photo shoots in China and then I’m meeting BamBam in Thailand for a reality show. What time is your flight?” 

There was nothing more that Mark wanted than to pull you in to his embrace but he was afraid of your reaction. It’s been so long since he last held you in his arms and he still had yet to really understand why you left, but he wanted you to come back home. He wanted you to come back to him. 

No matter how many wonderful things happened to him on a daily basis, nothing else mattered to him the way you and your presence did. He couldn’t fathom in to words just how much you were a literal ray of sunshine on his many cloudy days. He was nothing without you; and he didn’t realize just how much of a positive impact you had on him until you were no longer his. You were his reason; the meaning behind his entire existence. 

A life without you was one he no longer wanted to continue living. You were at the same airport at the exact same time—it had to mean something. Mark knew you like the back of his hand; being with someone for such a long time would do that to you. He could tell what you were thinking or how you were feeling just by looking at you and your mannerisms, yet looking at you right now, he had no idea what was on your mind and it worried him. 

Were you also thinking that the two of you meeting in the same area after months of being apart was a sign that the two of you were meant to do so? You were a firm believer in fate, soulmates and anything that had to deal with supernatural powers. Did that mean you too felt the same way Mark was currently feeling? You had to. You lived in Los Angeles and you only ever visited Korea when you were still dating Mark. 

There wasn’t a reason he could think of for you to come back. His flight could have been the day before and yours could have been set for the next week but no. You were both there; both deciding to stop by for coffee before your flights. This was no coincidence and even if it was, Mark was currently thanking whatever higher power brought the two of you to the airport that day. 

He was determined to bring you back in to his life, even if it was just to be a friend. Since the break up, you practically dropped off the face of the earth. You deleted every single social media account, changed your number and you even had your mom come up with excuses as to why you no longer wanted anything to do with him. There was no way he could keep up with you, so he had no idea if you already had someone else in your life. 

He wasn’t going to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable, but he was going to do whatever he possibly could to return things back to what they were. He missed his old self; the Mark he was back when he had a purpose. Back when he had something—someone worth fighting for. Someone worth surviving for. 

You. It’s always been you from the time you walked in to his life all those years ago and it’s always going to be you. 

There was really no getting over you. You were the owner of his heart and he was afraid that he would be alone for the rest of his life because he was confident you were it for him. He’s been thinking about you every single day since you told him you no longer wanted to be with him anymore. How were you doing? How long have you been wanting a breakup for? When did you realize Mark wasn’t the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with? If you were suffering and missing him the way he was with you? 

The two of you could have worked things out; he knew there was a lot more meaning behind your words. Deep down, Mark knew a huge part of your decision to break up with him was because of his career. The idol life was extremely rough; the guys received so much hate on a daily basis, their company treated them like shit and they didn’t get the recognition they obviously deserved. 

They promised Mark many different photo shoots, deals with top fashion houses like Hermès, Chanel and Tiffany co. They also told him that he could return back to California to spend time with his family. Unfortunately, every single thing the company promised to him turned out to be a lie. Some of the other members got to experiment with acting, dancing and putting out solo albums. 

However, every time Mark would bring up wanting to try out any of these activities, his company was quick to shut him down every single time. He had a gut feeling that a lot of the employees under the division that made the decisions all had it out for him and he never understood why. The older boy was one of the kindest, generous, soft spoken and gentle people not only in the company but just in general. 

In fact, it was Mark’s polite personality that caught the attention of the people who scouted him over a decade ago. Honestly, the mistreatment was getting too much for him to handle. He knew he and the rest of Got7 deserved so much better. They all had so much potential to be one of the greatest groups in KPOP, but their company continued to hold them back for no reason at all. All the mistreatment they were receiving on top of losing you—it got too much for Mark to handle and at one point, he even thought about leaving Got7. He didn’t have the courage to talk to any of the members about his feelings or anyone for that matter. 

Although he didn’t know the entire reasoning behind your sudden disappearance, it didn’t take a genius to know that you were fed up dating a KPOP idol. Hell, even if Mark knew you were the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, he wasn’t wholeheartedly sure that you felt that way too. For all he knew, every time you talked about your future with him, you could have said it in the moment. 

Nobody knows what the future holds but God—Mark wanted nothing more than for you to end up in his. If he could, he would go back in to the past and change everything negative that went on in your relationship. The two of you hardly ever got in to arguments; there wasn’t anything for the two of you to fight about. Sure, there were a couple disagreements every now and then, but it was only ever about food or chores. If and when the two of you did argue, It was about the distance. 

Got7 had gone on tour every single year since the beginning of your relationship. Their tours normally lasted for six months and unfortunately, being a full time college student with a full time job prevented you from getting to travel along with him. This meant that you only ever saw him when he was in Korea and even then, he would be at practice or in the studio. 

It had to be hard on you; you were still so young and quite the romantic. It was only natural for you to want to be around your boyfriend as much as you could. Mark hated any time spent away from you. As much as he loved hanging out with Got7, if he had the choice, he’d spend all of his time with you. If only he tried harder for you—if only he fought harder to get you to stay, he’d still be coming home to you and finding solace in your arms after a long day. He wouldn’t be so torn—so broken and so depressed. You brought out the best in him; you might have been standing right in front of him, but you were so far away. 

“I’m actually supposed to be heading to my gate here pretty soon. My flight is in an hour but we’ll be boarding in less than half an hour—“

“Order for y/n!” 

You gave him a small smile and walked over to the counter, quickly taking your beverage and making your way back over to him. Mark could feel his heart rate rapidly beating against his chest. Did he really spend almost five years of his life with you? It felt like a fever dream? He felt like a school boy watching you—his gaze not leaving your frame once. 

“Oh—cool.”

“What about you?”

“My flight isn’t for another two hours. My manager just wanted to get here early so that we wouldn’t have to worry about checking in.” 

The truth was, Mark and his manager weren’t actually supposed to be there so early. In most of his trips, they would show up to the airport with only minutes to make it to their gate. Since they would always fly first class, there wasn’t too much of a wait. That’s why he knew seeing you there was more than just a mere coincidence. 

You hummed in understanding and averted your gaze to the ground. Seeing your sudden change in emotion on top of your now awkward demeanor made his stomach sore. Being an idol was a once in a lifetime experience which he was extremely grateful for. He loved performing, he loved meeting fans and traveling the world with his six other best friends. But he would give everything up just to be the man you called your husband. 

That’s all he ever wanted. Being an idol would never allow him that freedom whatsoever and that was one of the cons he hated the most about his career. If people were to know that he was in a relationship with you, then maybe the two of you wouldn’t have had so many arguments about the dating rumors that surrounded him. 

KPOP fans could be so delusional sometimes. Whenever two idols would interact with each other or simply glance at one another, people would call them out and say that they were dating. Mark being the friendly person he was would always do things for the female idols he would work alongside. He knew that no matter how many times he would reassure you that there was nothing going on with him and a female idol, it was only human of you to grow insecure and feel as though something was up. He was very jealous and insecure whenever it came to you. 

One time, you went out with a few of your friends to a bar and got plastered to the point where one of your guy friends had to take you home. Since nobody other than the members of Got7 and both his and your family members knew about your relationship, this meant that Mark had yet to meet your group of friends but he was familiar with a few of them because you would talk to him about them. 

This friend however, wasn’t one that he was aware of, nor did he want to be. When he heard a buzz on his door and opened it to see your friend carrying you bridal style with your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as your face was smashed against his chest, he could feel is blood boiling and it wasn’t a good feeling. 

You weren’t purposely trying to make him jealous and because you didn’t think too highly of yourself in the first place, you didn’t think Mark had any reason to be jealous. He wanted to rip you from out of your friend’s arms and hide you away—it wasn’t that he was jealous of your friend’s looks although Mark could see that he was pretty good looking. Mark wasn’t cocky, he was very humble but he was well aware he was extremely handsome. Yet, he knew that your friend could give you what Mark couldn’t. 

Your friend could provide for you in ways that Mark couldn’t. Your friend could spend all of his time with you—call you and text you on an hourly basis. There were so many men that could do things for you that Mark wasn’t physically able to and it bothered him. Come to think of it, although he had no right to worry about what you did anymore, he was curious if you were in a relationship—and if you were dating that friend. 

He never said anything about it once you sobered you the next day in fear of a fight breaking out, but he’s been very cautious about who you hung out with while he was away. Mark was confident in the love that you held for him. You would confess your love for him physically and verbally every single day, so cheating wasn’t even a thought on his mind. However, he was afraid of you coming to the realization that you didn’t want to continue staying in a relationship with someone you hardly ever saw. 

“Nice! Oh, congratulations by the way! You finally released a solo song. I’m so proud of you! It’s amazing by the way. I had to look up the English translation since I don’t speak a word of Chinese, but it was beautiful.” 

I wrote it about you. 

From the day you walked out on him up until now, every single song he wrote was about you. Missing you—wishing you were still his, wanting to give up the game and fortune to be with you. The misery he was suffering; every word he wrote came straight from his heart. You actually kept up with him? You actually listened to his music? It didn’t come as a shocker; you were the definition of supportive. 

If you were able to, you’d attend their concerts, you’d constantly listen to their music and you’d wear and even purchase some merchandise. Everything you did never failed to put a smile on his face. Why did he take you for granted? Whoever said the famous line you never know what you have until it’s gone was right and he hated that they were. 

“Thanks. I’m glad that you enjoyed it.” 

That had to be the understatement of the year. He was over the moon that you listened to it. Right as he released the song, you were the first person he wanted to hear it. You were who the song was written about, so of course he wanted you to listen to it. It made him wonder though, how did you stumble across of it? Were you just scrolling on social media and it popped up, or did you search his name—curious as to how he was doing? 

What did you think about the lyrics? Did you think he wrote it about you? You had to know; you were the only girl in his life, a lot of the songs he’s written for Got7 were about you and you were aware of it. This time was no different. He had no intentions of telling you, well, at least not right now. But he was hoping you already knew without him having to confess it to you. Silence surrounded the both of you and he mentally cursed himself for not knowing what to say. Mark felt like an idiot. There were so many questions he had and so many things he wanted to tell you, but it wasn’t the time and he didn’t want to scare you away. 

“I should get going. I can’t afford to miss my flight. It was nice seeing you again Mark. I hope you have a wonderful day and a safe trip. Take care.” 

You gently waved at him and thanked him once more for the scone. His heart began to beg him to at least go in for a hug or to ask you to maybe start all over. It’s been so long since he last held you in his arms and it just felt so tempting. Only then did he realize where he was and there was no way he could get caught hugging someone—even more so his ex-girlfriend. Korean reporters would have a field day. 

“You too. Have fun in Vietnam!” 

With one last smile, you were gone and it all felt like deja vu to him. Seeing you walk away with your luggage brought back painful memories of him crying on the kitchen floor, wrapping himself around your leg—begging you to rethink your decision. He felt like such a child then, not allowing you to leave because he could tell that once you were to finally leave the apartment, that was it. This time though, it hurt him so much more. 

You were back in his life even if it were only for a couple of minutes. He had hope—he prayed that seeing him again would make you realize that you missed him and that maybe at the time, the break up was something you thought would be a good idea but now you were regretting it. He dragged himself slowly back to his gate and slumped in to the chair next to his manager. If the older man thought something was wrong, he didn’t say anything and Mark was glad. 

This manager was one of his favorites. He was very nice to Mark and took good care of him. However, he knew it was protocol for him to report any funny business back to the higher ups in the company. The image of you began to haunt him; he couldn’t think straight knowing you were less than a mile away from him. He started to weigh out his options; there was no way he’d allow this chance to go to waste. 

It’s only been a few months; but heartbreak really does change a person. He didn’t want to suffer anymore. That’s why he found himself standing up and apologizing to his manager, stating that he’d be right back. Knowing that you were just minutes away from boarding, he practically sprinted throughout the gates—doing his best to find the flight to Vietnam. It wasn’t as if there were many gates. All Asian countries were in the same area and both China and Japan were next to his gate, so he had a hunch your gate wasn’t too far away. 

“Flight 0904 to Vietnam will start boarding passengers in ten minutes. Please begin making your way to the gate.” 

He swore under his breath as he was running around looking like a madman. Only you had this effect on him. At this point, he didn’t even care if someone recognized him and either took photos of him or recorded him. He needed to find you and tell you how he felt. 

There was a possibility that you’d either freeze or tell him that you didn’t feel anything for him any more. In that case, there was nothing he could do about it. He’d just have to accept the truth as it was. Once he saw the word Vietnam in bold letters, he took a sharp turn and looked throughout the passengers—wanting nothing more than to finally find you. Actually, it didn’t take too long for his vision to land on you. 

Mark could point you out in a crowded room. In concerts with thousands of fans in attendance, he would always find you without trouble. That’s just how love worked. He wasted no time walking towards you and immediately sank down on his knees. There were so many red flags going off in his mind, telling him to turn around and that it was too late but he refused to listen. 

It took you a couple of seconds to register what was happening and you brought your gaze up to the other passengers who were waiting to board. Their expressions of shock and interest made it clear to you that no—you weren’t hallucinating. Seeing him in the coffee shop was already a lot to take in. It almost felt like you were asleep and you dreamt this entire thing but no; he was kneeling right in front of you. 

“Mark, what are you—“

“I shouldn’t have let you go. Not ten minutes ago. Not five months ago. Fuck—I couldn’t just sit and pretend that it’s a coincidence that we’re both here. You know me better than anyone else y/n, I never used to believe in that fate bullshit. But that was before you became my life. I could have flew out yesterday and you could have flown out later on this evening but here we are. At the exact same airport at the exact same time. You never told me why you left—I’ve been trying to come up with reasons for myself just so I could get closure but nothing makes sense. Look—I know I was a shit boyfriend and I know you deserve someone so much better than me, but I’m selfish. All I’ve ever wanted in my life was someone who could love me the way you do—the way you did so passionately. I know I took you for granted and there aren’t enough words in the English dictionary for me to explain just how sorry I am for all that I’ve put you through. I’m sorry for not being there for you as much as I should have, I’m sorry for not giving you the love and support you’ve never failed to give me, I’m sorry for not giving you the time and attention you deserved. There’s no excuse for my actions, there really isn’t. But I just need you to know, these past few months have been an actual living hell for me. I didn’t realize how blessed I was to have you in my life until you were no longer mine. I don’t expect you to come back to me. I’m sure you were suffering in our relationship, so this is my karma. I just want you to know that I still love you, I never stopped and I don’t think I ever will. That’s what scares me the most. Damnit, I don’t even know if you’re in a relationship or not. I shouldn’t have assumed—ahhh, forget I said anything. Have a safe flight.” 

You felt the need to throw up. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it was one of those situations where you were extremely lightheaded and on the verge of passing out. Why did he think that confessing all of that was the right thing to do? Especially in the middle of an airport with dozens of eyes now staring at the both of you. It’s as though he knew exactly what he was doing putting you on the spot like that. He knew you’d give in to him seeing as though you brought attention to a growing crowd. 

People enjoy watching couple’s drama and the thing was, Mark wasn’t exactly quiet while pouring out his heart to you. Then again, you knew Mark wasn’t the type to do that. He was extremely soft spoken, so with the way he was practically raising his voice at you, it was obvious he meant business. 

You were hoping that nobody would recognize him—fearing that he would get in a lot of trouble if word were to get out about the two of you. His reaction amazed you though; he didn’t seem the least bit phased at the idea of both his and your photo being plastered all over newspapers. 

You could see the headlines now; KPOP idol Mark Tuan causes a scene with unknown female at airport. Is this his current girlfriend? Or a former flame? 

The gentle tug on your shirt is what broke you out of your thoughts. His pained expression felt like a slap to your face. He was right; you never gave him an actual reasoning for breaking up with him, but who could blame you? You were a coward. If you were to tell him of your insecurities and the fact that you were genuinely unhappy because you couldn’t even consider your relationship a legitimate one, he would have made promises on changing and making things better and you would probably have listened to him and these last couple of months would never had happened. But you were confident that nothing would change. 

You weren’t stupid; Mark was both a man of words and actions and it was a trait of his that you appreciated. Yet, sometimes he made promises only to break them not too long after. A lot of the time though, it wasn’t his fault. His schedule kept him from many dates, vacations, trips to visit your family and just spending time together back at your shared apartment. You’d always feel like the odd one out; being the only person without a significant other. 

Things like that never really bothered you until one of your friends pulled you to the side after dinner and asked you if you could really see yourself putting up with the current situation you were in with Mark for however long more he’d be an idol for. You should have been honest with him; he deserved to know the truth but then again, you were very good at running away from your problems. 

Although her words weren’t the only reason why you ended things, they did open your eyes to the fact that if you did continue to stay with Mark, you’d lose yourself completely. Mark was your main priority. You would always put him first no matter how busy or tired you were. It was when you realize he never did the same for you that you accepted the idea of leaving him for good. Hearing him confess that he was still in love with you though, and that he was genuinely nothing without you made you feel something you haven’t quite felt since you left. 

Even if you were the one who decided that you didn’t want to continue having him as your person for the time being, your romantic feelings for Mark never stopped nor did they ever waver. There were days where you missed him dearly; even if he was gone all the time, he was still your boyfriend and they two of you stayed in contact enough for you to forget about the distance even if it were just for a little while. 

Sometimes, you’d find yourself typing in his number and writing a message to him, but then you’d stop yourself mid sentence, only then remembering the breakup and that you were the one who initiated it. You constantly reminded yourself that the breakup was the best decision you could make not only for you but for Mark too. 

Your relationship probably held him back from so much and although he never once complained about having a significant other, you could visibly see that he was exhausted from all of his scheduled activities—having to come home, entertain you and show you affection had to add on more weight to his shoulders. You couldn’t blame him for being so tired; Got7 practiced for ten to twelve hours a day then they’d go straight in to the studio to write and record songs. 

They’d also film reality tv shows and other kinds of segments, so when he’d come home—his body language would speak for him since he never seemed to have the courage to tell you that he was worn out from a long day. The idea of wanting him back was stupid since you were the one who walked away. But you missed him just as much as he claimed to miss you. You wished things could be different so that you could actually enjoy the experience of an actual relationship—yet, you would rather go months without seeing Mark, kissing him, holding him and being held by him, running to him whenever life could get too tough and being the girl that all his fans and the people who adored him could only wish to be in the place of. 

You were confident that there would be no one else for you and being without him for such a long time made you accept that you no longer wanted to continue doing so anymore. You continued to sit there; not knowing what to say or do really. Your mind was drawing a complete blank. Slowly, Mark got up from off the floor and softly bowed in your direction, taking the silence as your answer. As he began to walk away, the tight grip on his wrist made him smile like an idiot to himself. 

“When do you get back?” He turned around and looked at you in curiosity, but quickly grabbed his phone from out of his back pocket and flipped through his calendar faster than you’ve ever seen anyone do before. 

“Two weeks. How come?”

“Can you wait for me?”

Wait, did this mean what he could only hope and dream that it meant? Were you—were you going to give him another chance? Sure, he would have preferred an explanation as to why you broke up with him and what went on in your mind for the last couple of months. But he understood that there was a time and place for such a serious topic.

He wasn’t thinking when he literally poured out his heart out to you. When the two of you were together, the entire world would disappear. Maybe that’s why he pushed away the thought of causing a scene in the middle of an airport, surrounded by at least fifty strangers. He lost all his sanity whenever it came to you and he was just so focused on trying to bring you back in to his life to even care about the consequences that would come with the news of his relationship with you. 

“Of course I can—I’ll wait however long I need to for you. But, um—what am I going to be waiting for?” To his surprise yet excitement, you brought one of your hands up to his face and gently grazed his cheek. He wasted no time leaning his face in to your palm and left a soft kiss against your wrist.

“I’m yours, if you’ll have me again. I’ve missed you, more than I’m willing to admit. I won’t lie and say I made a mistake in breaking up with you. We needed this—well, I needed this. I gave my entire being; my mind, heart, body and soul to you. I did everything for you. To make you happy and by doing so, I became so depressed. I wasn’t myself anymore and I wanted to fall back in love with myself before I could continue loving you. You’re right, there’s no way us meeting up is mere coincidence. As soon as you walked up to me, I knew God brought us together. I love you Mark. I’m sorry, I know I have a lot of explaining to do but it’s going to have to wait. I love you, so much. I’ve missed you so much.”

Without hesitance or scanning the area to see whether or not the eyes were still on you, he threw himself at you and connected your lips with his. Although it’s been a while since you’ve last kissed him, your lips melded perfectly together as if the break never happened. His lips were soft and tasted like cherry chapstick and coffee. 

God, how did you go so long without kissing the beautiful man in front of you? As much as you wanted to continue your little make out session, only then did it occur to you that you and Mark weren’t alone and that there was a chance someone recognized him. He whined adorably when you pulled your mouth away from his but with the knowing look you sent his way, he understood why you did so. 

“Wow, I just—wow. Kissing you was always one of my favorite past times with you. Well, other than cuddling, taking naps, making love and—ow! What? I’m being honest baby. I’ve missed every single thing about you. I’m so fucking happy. This time will be different, I promise. I know how it is to live without you and let me tell you, it was actual hell on earth. Every single day felt like a month. Not hearing that contagious laugh of yours, not seeing that breathtaking smile and not having your arms around me—it fucking sucked. I should’ve fought harder to prevent you from leaving, but none of that matters anymore. You’re here now. You’re back in my life and I have no intention on ever letting you go again. I love you so much y/n, more than you’ll ever be able to fathom with that pretty head of yours.” 

He pulled you in for a tight hug; placing his chin on your head and rubbing your back soothingly. The two of you stood there for a couple of minutes, it didn’t even hit you that he was there and that he was going to be yours again. Honestly, you wanted to just say fuck it and reach out to your supervisor, stating that you were unable to make it to Vietnam. Now that the two of you were rekindling your relationship, you wanted to be around him as much as you could. You trusted that he was going to keep his word and take care of you this time. He left soft kisses in your hair and began running his hands along your sides. 

“Mmm—I’ve missed this.”

“Me too.” He was about to lean in for another kiss but you playfully leaned away. 

“Babeeeee—“

“Mark, if anyone recognizes you—“

“I don’t give a shit. Let them. If people find out that I’m in love, then good. I want everyone to know about you. My heart has been yours for years now and it’s going to stay that way for the rest of our lives. I’d give up being an idol if it meant finally getting to settle down and start living the life we’ve always wanted. If I can’t wait too long, maybe I’ll just fly to Vietnam and we can—“

“Flight 0904 to Vietnam is now boarding. Please take out your tickets and start heading to the gate.” A soft groan fell from Mark’s lips and you took this time to steal a few kisses from him. He smiled against your lips and cheekily squeezed your waist. “Do you still have the same number?”

“Mhm, you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I never deleted it, but just like everything else about you, your number is tattooed on my heart. Have a safe flight. Text me as soon as you land. Have a great trip baby. I’ll try to call and text you as much as possible. I love you y/n. Thank you for coming back to me. See you soon.”

[hyunjilicious]

100 ways to say ‘I love you’ Christmas Edition [bucky barnes]

Summary: it’s pretty self explanatory, I guess. (FLUFF) 1.6k

Warnings: absolutely none, just Bucky being cute, awkward and madly in love with you!!

-

In 2018, you were in Namibia, hunting down an American terrorist that had been on the run for the better part of the year. In 2019, the avengers were scattered around the globe, executing a 'shoot first, ask questions later' type of mission that ended long after the new year began. But this year, all of your friends were home. For the first time in years, the Stark Tower was shining from top to bottom with Christmas lights, carols echoing down all of its long, secluded hallways. It was the first time you'd get to actually spend the night of 24th of December with your true family. That is, if you made it in time. Back on December 19th, you and Bucky got stuck in the depths of Louisiana, with absolutely no means of communication, let alone transportation. You decided to make the best out of the situation and turn it into a road trip, but time flew by so much faster than expected, that it was now 2:13 pm on Christmas eve, and you and Bucky were sprinting down the snow covered empty highways of the east coast, dead set on making it home in time. He wasn't that eager to get back and tried to get you to rent a hotel room and spend the night alone, but you weren't having it. He huffed and puffed about not giving a shit about Christmas, but it was the first one he could celebrate with people that loved him, in over 70 years. With every motel that you passed, he'd turn and look at you from the passenger seat, begging you to stop. You didn't even consider it. You wanted him to have the full Christmas experience. A storm was brewing and you were whiteknuckling the steering wheel, fighting back the urge to yawn for the 3rd time in the last 10 minutes. After driving for 7 hours straight, you were close to passing out, but nowhere near ready to give up. "Pull over, love" he smiled, grabbing your thigh, "Let me drive. I'll wake you up when we arrive"

-

And of course Bucky refused to decorate. You spent the better half of the day rummaging through boxes and looking up diy tutorials on the Internet, doing your absolute best to make your bedroom as cozy and Christmasy as possible. Candles were scattered all over the furniture, their soft light and delicate cinnamon scent filling up the room, a small Santa Claus figurine was sitting neatly by the window, garlands dripped from every corner and your Christmas playlist was on shuffle for probably the 4th time that day. As you kept busy, lowkey exasperated whenever one ornament didn't fit in as planned, Bucky laid on the bed, making nasty comments with every chance he got. He complained about the music, said the room was too hot, that the candles made his nose feel funny and not for a second did he stop begging you to drop the fucking decorating and join him in bed. You didn't wanna hear it. You kept going, bringing in box after box of ornaments, each one making Bucky more and more frustrated.

"Buck!" you whined, turning around in your hands a little remote controlled reindeer. "His leg is stuck... he keeps falling"

"Throw it into the trash" he scoffed, plopping down on his back and hiding his face in the crook of his elbow.

Of course you didn't listen to him. "No..." you mumbled, more to yourself. You sounded like a child, but you didn't care. Instead, you just sat down on the edge of the bed, all your attention focused on the broken toy in your hands, "I'll fix it somehow"

"Just throw the goddamned thing away, Y/n" he groaned, "Only on my nightstand there are other 3. We got enough"

You just shook your head, focused on getting the reindeer to walk again. It was no use. You got no utensils and your nails were threatening to break as you kept trying to open up his battery container. 5 minutes of painful silence followed, ending with you finally giving up, "I'll just put something under his leg and use it as a decoration" you whimpered, legitimately heartbroken over the toy.

"Fuck, just come here. Give it to me. I'll fix the damn thing for you"

Your heart swelled up, "Really?"

"Yeah..." Bucky sighed, grabbing a screwdriver out of his nightstand and picking up the toy. "Master assassin and I'm fixing toys" he mumbled under his breath and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him and kiss his cheek.

-

Your version of paradise started just when you arrived at the tower on Christmas Eve. Bucky did as promised and then offered you a weak smile, full of warmth as he helped you out of the car when he parked in front of the Tower. You were beaming with excitement for the days that were to come. When the next morning arrived, you were sipping your coffee on the balcony, waiting for everyone to wake up so that you could all start unwrapping the presents. When the door opened you didn't expect Bucky to come out, as he never - ever, failed to sleep until noon, if given the chance. But there he was, wrapped in one of your comfy blankets, padding over to you with a coffee mug in his hand. When he reached you, he opened his arms and welcomed you against his chest, closing his hold around your body and engulfing you in the warmth of the blanket. It didn't take long until you noticed the little paper bag lodged under the elastic of his sweats, and when you asked about it, he cursed himself for ruining the surprise. He handed you the bag, and urged you to open it, insisting that it wasn't your present. When you did, your eyes landed on a knitted bunny clutching a heart to its chest. "An old lady was selling these a few weeks ago at a boutique I saw while waiting for you to meet me. I know you love to call me Bucky Bunny because you know how much I hate it. I forgot about it and came across it this morning at the bottom of my bag while searching for my charger. Now I think its stupid, a dumb rabbit and his eyes are a little bit fucked up, but he's cute and it reminded me of you, so here you go"

-

As much love as some of you had for the holiday, it still wasn't enough to convince the whole group to actually watch a Christmas movie. So, in true avenger spirit, you all decided to watch Terminator. After finishing dinner, you all scattered around the Tower. Some people left to change in more comfortable clothes, some helped clean up the kitchen, and some, like Bucky and Thor, remained in the living room, plopped in the middle of the couch, fangirling over Arnold Schwarzenegger's acting and the great sense of humour of the 90s. Eventually everyone gathered around them, you and Wanda being the last ones to show up. She cuddled against Vision's side, but Bucky was lodged in between Thor and Steve, and there was no way you'd ever ask any of them to move. Seeing you eye an open spot, Bucky waved you over as he stood up. "Here, take my seat". You wanted to object but he didn't want to hear it. Eventually, you sat down, and so did he, on the floor, right in front of you. Nonchalantly, Bucky pulled your legs apart and settled between them, with his back against the couch. He gathered your Christmas themed sock clad feet into his lap and rested his head against your knee as the movie began.

-

And like any other Christmas dinner, of course yours wasn't an exception. Natasha's recipe for apple pie was by definition the best that ever blessed the earth and none of the attendees was any stranger to that. Considering how many of you there were, as you made a point of spending the end of the year together, 2 batches had to be made. It was hectic, everyone fuzzing around the Tower, preparations on tow the whole day. And of course there would be repercussions for the chaotic atmosphere, but you'd only find out about them later. After burning through the first meal courses of the evening, it was finally time for her sweet delicacy to grace the table. Natasha neatly placed the two pies on either end of the table, proudly announcing you could all dig in. Bucky was seated to your right, and he unlike you, managed to grab a piece of pie from the first batch. You didn't think too much of it, until you started eating yours, only to realise the bottom was burned. Despite all of you trying to assure Natasha that it was not her fault and that she shouldn't beat herself up about it, she promised she'd make another one tomorrow. The night carried on as planned, but no matter how much you tried to push away the thought, you couldn't help but feel bitter about missing out on the good pie. Just when you were about to come to your senses and realise what a dumb reason for you to get upset that was, Bucky sent you text, asking you to come to the bedroom. Curious as to what this could have been about, you hurried upstairs and burst into the room, nearly crashing into Bucky's chest. He slammed the door behind you and handed you his plate - his slice of pie only halfway eaten. "I saved you a piece. These are jackals, I had to hide it. Dig in before anyone comes!"

-

On December 27th the buzz was starting to die down. When you put up the lights in your bedroom, Bucky said they could stay on for two days and two days only, and you reluctantly agreed to make a compromise. Just this time. The time to turn them off came last night, and since he offered to let them on until the morning, you felt like an unreasonable little shit if you were to ask him to turn them on again. It was about 7pm and you were two seasons deep in The X Files, and Wanda asked for your help. Bucky pulled out his phone and assured you he wouldn't watch ahead until you got back. It took you about 30 to help your friend with her problem, and when you returned to your room, confusion washed over you. The Christmas lights were on and Bucky was nowhere to be seen. "Fuck" he grunted.

You turned around to see him behind you, standing in the doorway, two cocoa mugs in his hands, "I made these cause I know you like them. And I wanted to surprise you with the lights but vision is a dumbass and forgot to text me and tell me when you were almost done"

"So she didn't actually need help folding the bed sheets?" you laughed, endeared by his antics.

"Of course she didn't" Bucky shook his head, handing you one of the mugs, "She's not an imbecile"

"Oh my god" you giggled in disbelief as you sat down on the bed.

"I'll squirt shit nuggets out of my ass for two days, so please tell me at least I got the recipe right" 

He was so adorable, anxiously waiting for you to taste the cocoa he just made. "It's so good!" you rolled your eyes in pleasure, taking another sip, "Thank you, you're too sweet, Buck"

"Yeah, I know-" he chuckled, grabbing the mug from your palm and placing it on the nightstand. "I got one more present for you. Close your eyes and hold out your hands"

"No, Buck-" you whined, "I didn't get you anything else-"

He dismissed your words in an instant and kissed your lips, before guiding your hands up. You opened them up and closed your eyes, curious about what he could have gotten you. First, you heard him shuffle around the bed, and then you felt something rather itchy touch your palms. You nearly burst into laughter when you realised it was his chin.

"Ok, open your eyes"

And as you did so, your eyes landed on Bucky's face, as he had placed his head on your hands. He was wearing a tiara with reindeer ears, and you couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"You're my present?" you beamed, throwing yourself against his chest.

"My face is the present-" he corrected you. "Guess what it does. Take your leggings off and you'll find out"

[bumblebear30]

The heights you take me to.

Rita Calhoun x Casey Novak

Established Calvak

Warnings: Discussion of fears around heights, No smut but allusions to. Language. Casey Novak being so fucking adorable she’ll steal your girl and you’d still thank her.

The heights you take me to.

Not that anyone ever did ask, but if anyone had ever been brazen enough to raise the issue, Rita would categorically deny that she was scared of heights.

And she would win that argument. Even a polygraph test on the subject would be passed with flying colours. She was entirely content on those shallow balconies at the opera, mezzanine floors in apartments in Paris posed no hindrance and, thankfully, even the thought of flying in planes didn’t bother her. So truly heights weren’t the issue.

If you were going to get technical about it, maybe, possibly, perhaps, she had a mild concern – an often valid mild-concern – about falling from unstable platforms. Honestly it just seemed common sense to avoid such scenarios. An intrinsic urge of self-protection that had served her well through life so far. So much so, the issue very rarely came up at all.

And yet, somehow Casey, so typically enthusiastic, utterly wonderfully childlike in her glee and adoration of things somehow put Rita in a situation where she had to confront that maybe she should have voiced her concerns much earlier in their relationship.

It had all come about because Casey had won their most recent head-to-head case and they'd long since set up and agreement that after a case where they been up against each other whoever won got to choose whatever date it was that they went on as soon as they could.

Sometimes it was as mundane as choosing which wine and takeaway combo would go with whatever mindless TV or comfort film they'd watch as they settled back into their domestic selves, or something like Casey making Rita join her on a walk around the park when the seasons were changing so she could point out the beauty of the leaves changing colour or the blossom scattering the footpath. She was always such a romantic; as much in love with the natural world around her as with the woman stood next to her holding her hand. Despite her apparent grumbling Rita actually loved those walks, just getting to have a glimpse of how Casey saw things always made her fall for the redhead even more.

Other times, if she'd won, Rita would go all out spoiling Casey with a quick weekend away, or lavish meal out – not to gloat, never to gloat - but to simply spoil her girl as she deserved to be spoilt.

One time Casey had made Rita go camping... Despite the defence attorney trying her best to cope with it all after several tantrums Casey learnt quickly that camp life did not hold the same joyful relaxation for the brunette as she’d hoped, and had hastily found them a glamping resort nearby to save the long weekend.

But, given the nature of some of the cases, and just how passionately Rita would defend her client and Casey would fight for justice for the victim, sometimes there simply had to be a cooling off phase of a couple of days before either one was quite ready to think about indulging the whims of the winning party.

The longest they'd gone through such a détente had been ten days. It had just clocked over to the eleventh when Rita had woken to the sounds of Casey sniffling, trying to muffle her tears on the couch where she'd been sleeping, self-imposed it had to be said. Wordlessly Rita had left the warmth of their bed and padded across the apartment simply to cuddle up with the redhead: wrapping her arms around her and cradling her head into the crook of her neck. The unspoken love and comfort in the gentle touches, the light peppering of kisses against her hair, had initially just made Casey sob even harder. It was exactly what she'd needed ten days ago but her own smarting pride and anger at the world's injustices had meant she denied herself from seeking out from the one person who could truly console her. Rita had continued to just hold her though and rub her back, letting Casey get it all out without judgement.

Exhausted Casey had eventually fallen asleep, utterly spent after finally letting the emotional dam burst. With great care Rita had slowly manoeuvred them (an impressive feat she was quite proud of really) so that she could lie down on the couch properly with Casey draped comatose over her hip, her face pillowed on Rita's chest. She knew she'd inevitably end up with a drool mark on her satin sleep shirt but making sure Casey was comfortable was far more important - and for the first time in weeks, fell asleep holding her love.

Waking up being held so tenderly by Rita, who had spent the night on the couch with her simply because Casey had needed her, almost made Casey cry again. Although this time because her heart was so full. She'd laid there for a little while completely content to just listen to Rita's soft snores (she only ever did when she slept on her back, Casey always thought they were adorable), until she could resist no longer and started to trail her hand across the top of Rita's shoulder and down her arm a little.

So absorbed in the sensation of the satin under her fingertips, and the incomparable softness of Rita's skin where it had slipped more open on her chest, Casey hadn't realised the gentle snores had stopped till she felt an answering hand come up to run across the back of her head gently. Looking up she had been greeted with such a soft sleepy smile from her girlfriend that Casey just wanted to remember it forever.

The woman was just so perfect for her. Rita would of course argue with a smirk across her face that she was perfect, full stop, but Casey always simply pointed out that she loved Rita’s imperfections just as much anyway. It usually earned her a sweet kiss, or three. But that morning it was Casey who poured as much love and gratefulness into the kisses she pressed to Rita’s cheek before offering to cook one of Rita’s beloved egg-white omelettes.

At this precise moment in time though Rita wished with every fibre of her being that she was back in their apartment, safely sat on the couch which was so securely resting on the ground.

Casey had won their most recent professional battle – Rita was secretly relieved, the guy creeped her out too – and the redhead had promptly declared that she wanted to go to Coney Island. Initially Rita thought she was joking, and had laughed in her face. She thought it went without saying that fair ground rides, fried foods and screaming children were not her idea of a fun evening with her girlfriend. But upon seeing the puppy dog worthy pout that was now gracing said girlfriend’s face she had immediately relented, although only once securing a promise that she could wear Casey’s clothes. She’d be damned if her designer wardrobe was going to be sacrificed along with her professional court win-rate. Chanel and cotton candy did not mix.

So, a few days later she’d subsequently found herself dressed in Casey’s jeans and old softball team hoody. When she’d left the bedroom and when Casey had caught sight of how her ass filled out the jeans let alone seeing Rita with ‘NOVAK’ emblazoned across her shoulders? She was reduced to an absolute puddle of adoration and affection.

Rita had recognised the gleam in her redhead’s eyes and it had buoyed her confidence, loving to have the chance to flirt and spoil Casey to her heart’s content. Although really with the small fortune she’d spent on letting Casey try to win at the coconut shy she would’ve expected a higher quality prize than the little plush tiger the redhead eventually chose. But when Casey had then only slightly bashfully presented it to her, saying that it reminded her of her courtroom persona Rita surprised herself with how much she immediately treasured it, able to picture where it would rest 'on-guard' on top of her jewellery box on the dressing table.

She’d tried to counter how the moment got to her by quipping that she’d need to work harder if Casey saw her as soft and cuddly in court, but Casey had simply rolled her eyes and laughed, quickly tugging Rita towards her to press a quick kiss to the side of her head before leading her further down the boardwalk and onto the next distraction.

Rita had been all too happy to follow. With the quite fierce and regal looking little tiger securely tucked under one arm, and her free hand safely and lovingly entangled with Casey’s whenever possible – only releasing her when Casey wanted to play a stall, or to tsk as she had to untangle Casey’s hair as it got caught on whatever food stuff the redhead kept on encouraging her to indulge in, Rita actually found herself not just tolerating the date, but actively enjoying it.

Cotton candy tasted sweeter when stolen off of her girlfriend’s stick of it. The gleam of Casey’s eyes in all the bright lights made the neon flashing bearable. The screams of hyperactive and wayward children were relegated to the background as Casey laughed and joked with her, muttering sweet nothings into her ear as they watched the sunset, and decidedly naughtier comments when they indulged in ice creams and hotdogs. It had all been going just swimmingly. But then Casey had legitimately squealed and bounced like an excitable golden retriever as she bounded towards the one thing Rita had been determinedly ignoring:

That fucking Ferris wheel.

As she covered her unease – all those different treats suddenly bubbling inside her stomach suddenly felt like such a bad idea – with an attempt at an indulgent smile and joined Casey in the queue, Rita couldn’t help but consider how they’d managed to get so far into their relationship without the discussion about Rita’s concerns – definitely not fear, Rita Calhoun was not scared of anything or anyone thank you very much – but unease, about being up on something so rickety and unstable that just went unnecessarily high and when was it last inspected and god did the damn seats have to sway so and oh shit was it just a bar across their laps that was meant to protect them? She was Rita fucking Calhoun, surely there was something more robust and reliable than a single metal 2x4 to stop her from plunging to her imminent dea-

Oh.

Rita glanced down at where Casey had taken her white knuckled grip from the metal safety bar and now held her hand in both of her own in the warmth of her lap,

“Babe, you should’ve just said if you didn’t want to go on the ride.”

Rita was glad that Casey was so close and so beautiful, it meant she could safely focus on her rather than how the ground, nice safe terra firma, was getting smaller and smaller the higher up they went. She made herself focus on the brightness of her eyes – how they seemed to radiate such love and warmth at her, to take in how there were a few more smile lines at the corner of those eyes than there were when she’d first found herself getting lost in them.

She dropped her gaze (oh god, wrong choice of word she chided herself), to the top of Casey’s cupid bow lip, able to instantly conjure the countless memories of how that lip felt pressed against her own, tracing down her throat and across her body drawing out and bringing her such pleasure. Right now though, the corner of those lips were curling up in one of those soft, ever so slightly teasing smiles that still made Rita’s heart beat faster despite how long they’d been together– although she was glad to notice that actually this time it actually slowed her racing pulse, letting her breathe deeply once more,

“I’m not scared,” she finally huffed out, even though she tried to shuffle closer to Casey in the same moment and instantly froze wide-eyed as the seat seemed to swing at her movement. With a roll of her eyes Casey lifted her arm to come round the back of Rita’s shoulders, encouraging the brunette to cuddle into her side,

“Of course not darling. I never said you were.”

Rita’s sigh this time was in apparent exasperation but truly, she felt inexplicably safer with Casey’s arm wrapped comfortingly around her. She finally felt brave enough to look past Casey’s face, being pressed so closely against the crook of her shoulder she could smell the distinctive scent of Casey’s perfume from where she’d applied it to her pulse point. It made her smile. She’d bought the redhead the bespoke scent for their second Christmas together, and it had been her go-to ever since. With the familiar hints of bergamot, blood orange and nutmeg swirling through her senses and Casey’s low voice pointing out the different sights that surrounded them Rita actually felt herself relax and begin to enjoy the experience.

Until the blasted wheel groaned and ground to a stop just as they came round to the top once again,

“Fuck! What’s happening? Is it breaking? Casey!”

With a gentle chuckle Casey ran her thumb over Rita’s knuckles and the back of her hand to calm her,

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t know you were going to be not scared so I slipped the operator an extra $10 so we could stop at the top for a bit.”

Rita turned to face her aghast,

“And why would you do such a thing!?!”

“Maybe because I wanted to look at all the different sights with my girlfriend,” she reached out to tuck some of the fly-aways of Rita’s classic half-up do back behind her ear, “Or maybe I wanted to make out with the love of my life on the Ferris wheel like a horny teenager…”

The wickedly teasing smile and gleam to her eyes elicited the exact knowing and playful laugh from Rita that Casey knew it would,

“Well, when you put it like that darling,” Casey loved how Rita’s usual confidence seemed to exude from her once the redhead had focussed her attention, already leaning forward as Rita beckoned her with her fingers curling under her chin, “C’mere you.”

So maybe Ferris wheels weren’t so bad after all.

In fact, sharing such sweet kisses that tasted like candy as the fair lights flashed, oblivious in their own world as children screamed and parents yelled all around them, meant Rita thought she could just about say she was a fan of the mechanical monstrosity.

Just.

[galacticlamps]

Your creative process is an interesting one my dear. You live dangerously and I respect that lol. It isn't so disorganized as I previously thought when we talked before, now that I understand it better, but even still, interesting!

Also, I'm very curious about hte Ghost based WIP.

haha, thank you! although I feel like "interesting" is a tad on the generous side... then again, "process" might be too lol

I can't honestly call it organized, every once in a while I do legitimately have trouble finding a particular idea (especially if I can't remember a word-for-word phrase I can ctrl + f) - but I think I wound up doing it that way in the first place to encourage myself to actually write things down no matter how small/insignificant the initial idea was - somehow it was less daunting to tack a few lines onto the end of an existing document than create a new file every time I had an idea, because then I'd usually talk myself out of it like, 'nah, I probably wouldn't really develop this anyway, it'll just be something I daydream about for a while & that's it, it's not worth saving a file for.' And I should admit I learned this the hard way - there were entire fandoms I wound up having multiple, fairly developed concepts for - sometimes even with specific lines of narration & dialogue - that lived entirely in my head until I eventually forgot the details one day. I'd always considered writing them down - some I remember actually starting to type out - but then I decided against saving any of it, because that just felt like too much of a commitment, somehow. Two of the biggest casualties actually being Good Omens and Broadchurch, weirdly enough (and unrelated to one another, even though that seems to've become a bit of a crossover fandom since then? that's always amused me, because in my mind the venn diagram between them is david tennant & ill-fated fic ideas)

But the Ghosts one, yes! Unfortunately, very little to do with Ghosts - it started life as a typical "they wake up in bed together the morning after getting drunk at a party thinking 'oh no what did I do?'" scene - but everything's fine, there's some more generally embarrassing details but nothing went on between the two of them they'd be ashamed of. I always pictured it as a pretty modern party, but for some reason taking place in a older mansion-type home (in my head the bedroom had tall windows, molding on the walls, a canopy bed, and, crucially, the softest sheets Jamie'd ever seen) so when I got around to watching that episode of Ghosts, seeing Button House in that context made me go "oh, right! I had a fic a bit like this" and start working on it more seriously. It still doesn't have too much in common with the episode, other than a similar location - it's now set in the near future (2030's, I think) in an old mansion-turned-event-space that UNIT had to co-opt as a base to deal with the monster of the week causing havoc in a nearby town. After that's sorted but before Two, Jamie, and Zoe can get a ride back to London where the Tardis is parked, the relieved locals celebrate with a party that takes over most of the mansion, and since they've been living there for the time being too, they don't have much choice but to attend.

One of the reasons I haven't finished it yet is because the more I wrote of the party itself the less it became about the morning after - not that it was ever a hangover-style mystery, exactly, but proportionally, I've strayed pretty far from the original idea, and I want to decide if I actually like its new structure, since it came about a little unintentionally. But, for the moment at least, it's got Zoe very excited about seeing a party from what would've been her grandparents' generation first-hand, a bartender flirting with Jamie, and Two getting much drunker than he ever intended - I'm not extensively versed in Time Lord lore, but the bit about the Doctor being able to get drunk off of ginger ale always seemed funny to me, and I love the comedic potential of ordering a mixed drink not for the liquor but the mixer instead, and as the night wears on eventually asking for the last one to be "not too strong" - which any sane bartender would interpret as 'less alcohol & more mixer, please' even though that'd be exactly the opposite of what the Doctor wanted. It's a very silly detail but it was begging to be written in a comedy of errors way

[makowo]

Forever Deep Below Creation

This is still a work in progress, but due to my lack of posted writing in the past 3 months, I thought I'd give a sneak peek at the beginning of the fic.

Warnings: None

Characters: Naegi Makoto, Kirigiri Kyoko

Relationships: Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto

Words: 3k

It’s another warm night in the woods. Cicadas cast their calls to the air, and while some creatures tuck into their nests and dens, others rise to greet the darkened sky. Wing and hooves and fingers and claws grazing the sky, Brushing against the stars and cupping the face of the moon.

And here Makoto is, prepping dinner in the cottage he calls a home. His home. Their home.

He pulls out a knife from the block by the counter just as he hears the front door’s lock click. He can almost feel the burst of warm night air flooding their living room, though it is little to the warmth of the stove as it works to bring water to a boil.

He blinks, dropping his focus to turn towards his wife with a grin. “Welcome home honey!”

“Honey?” Kyoko echos, placing her bag on the coffee table. She leaves her holstered gun beside it, walking into the kitchen to check on him. “It’s unusual for you to use pet names.”

“Only if I wanna tease you.” He chuckles, and she does it right back. “Unless you prefer stuff like “babe” or “sweetheart”?”

Arms wrap around his waist, Kyoko resting her chin on his shoulder. “What’s for dinner tonight?”

She avoids the question, and he saves that tidbit of info for later. Avoidance is not a no, after all. “Yakisoba.” He nudges the noodles around with a spoon, half-focused on it as he leans back against his wife. “Thought it might be good to have something quick tonight, y’know?”

Kyoko merely hums, burying her face into the crook of his neck. “Shouldn’t you turn up the AC? You’re cold.”

“Means I can cuddle up to you to stay warm tonight though.”

“As if I’ll let you do that.” She scoffs. He can feel her smile against his skin.

“Ohh?” He goes through the motions of prepping their dinner, Kyoko stumbling along with his hasty steps with a steadfast grip. “And how are you gonna stop it?” Even if they’re on opposite ends of the bed, they always wake up with one clinging to the other. Hard not to cuddle.

She takes a minute to ruminate on it, before managing an answer. “Heater. Right between us.”

Makoto laughs. “Won’t that burn?”

“If it keeps your ice hands from touching me at 2 in the morning, then ‘m fine.”

His whine of objection couldn’t be more fake. “That’s mean.” He quickly nabs the pair of bowls set aside early on, tracing the grooves of their rims with his thumbs as he sets them out side by side. “You’re mean.”

Finally, he’s released from his lavender-scented prison as Kyoko reaches for one of the bowls, unsubtly nudging him in an attempt to get him out of the way. He stays still however, nudging her right back. “It’s still hot, Kiri-san! Gotta let it sit for a bit.” He warns with a frown.

“It can sit for a bit in my bowl.” She replies deadpan, still urging him away. And he relents, because it isn’t that big of a deal anyway but he doesn’t want to watch Kyoko burn her mouth while trying to eat again. Or just forget about it while she works.

“Then eat with me in the living room.” Makoto grabs his own bowl, getting what yakisoba she leaves behind in the pan. “And after it, we go straight to bed.” He’s not risking his work going to waste, after all.

Even with these tough terms he’s set up, Kyoko lazily nods, most likely due to still suffering from sleep deprivation. Maybe she’ll decline when she’s woken up a bit, maybe she won’t. Makoto decides to settle down on the couch and put on a movie that might distract her from it anyway.

It’s more background noise than anything, though; something about an escape room? Pretty sure he put on a sequel movie too, which turns their interest only to one another. Not that he minds.

“Would you like to go on a trip sometime in the next month?”

“Mmh, yeah?” He replies through a mouthful of food, quickly swallowing it before continuing. “What case has you going out of the country this time?” It’s not odd for Kyoko to ask if he wants to travel with her if she knows it’ll take too long for Makoto to bear.

She shakes her head, taking a bite of her food before answering. “I mean as a vacation, actually?” She replies with a tone implying that she’s questioning her own words already.

“Vacation?” He can’t help but echo, because… well, Kyoko never takes vacations! He can imagine she has a lot of days saved up because of that, but it never seems like she plans to put them to use other than for emergencies. Guess he read her wrong on that part, even if this is the first time she’s planning a legitimate vacation herself in the four years she’s been working as a detective again.

“Is it a bad time?”

“No, no!” Makoto shakes his head, not daring to let this slip by. “I’d love a vacation! It’d be nice to get out of the house.” He doesn’t really have much going on anyway, since the whole school idea didn’t really pan out. He’s just a stay at home husband now, and since Kyoko still makes enough money to support them both, he’s not actively seeking a job right now. Thus, he’s perfectly free.

Kyoko smiles. “Good. I’ve made sure to go ahead and clear up a week for ourselves, but I need to know what you might want to do.” She glances at him curiously, before quickly adding on. “Preferably not something that’s outside of Japan, I’d have trouble paying for that right now.”

Well that’s a no brainer for him, but it does narrow down his options significantly, which he happens to be thankful for. “Do you have anything in mind?” For a fleeting moment, Makoto recalls his dinner, taking a bite of it before he looks away from it and thus forgets it even exists. “I’m gonna be honest, I don’t really have anything in mind…” Never been one to aspire for once-in-a-lifetime thrills, like skydiving or something. He’d be happy just lounging at home the whole week, despite his earlier comment.

“I thought we could go to a nearby city then, and go sight-seeing.” Kyoko spares a glance towards the movie playing, before interest in it is once again immediately lost “Maybe in Seoul? There’s a large cave system there as well, and they’re open to caving this time of year.”

“Hm?” Makoto tries to recall what exactly that is, but he’s drawing blanks. “What’s that?”

“Well, Seoul is-”

“I know what Seoul is.” Makoto deadpans, though completely understands why she thought that was what he was talking about. He’s not the most educated person, what with the whole memory loss thing. “”I mean caving! I’ve never, uh, heard of that.”

“Ah.” Kyoko nods, setting down her bowl on the coffee table. “Apologies. It is rather self-explanatory however; we just go and explore a cave system with a small group.” She shrugs, stifling a yawn. “I thought it might be fun to do something like that together. It’s rare for a person to do, wouldn’t be too dangerous, and we’d be together the whole time.”

That does sound pretty cool, he’ll admit. He’s never really gone into a cave before, if he excludes the ones that they’d have to hide in during… ah, well, it’d just be nice. Doing something kind of thrilling. He imagines it’s thrilling, at least.

“I think it’d be fun!” He finally chirps, leaning over to rest his head on Kyoko’s shoulder. “It’s been a while since we’ve done something together, I’m sure it’d be a good time for us both.” And he’s pretty sure they don’t have any trauma tied to caves, which is a definite plus! Unless they count claustrophobia? Neither of them have shown signs of that though, so they’ll hopefully be fine. Hopefully.

As if she were able to sense his worry (which he doesn’t doubt that she can), Kyoko places a hand on his leg, stopping its worried bouncing. He hadn’t even noticed it doing that. “Are you sure?” She asks lightly, brow furrowed with worry. “”It can be dangerous, you know. There’s only so much a tour guide can do to make naturally made caves safe to enter.”

Makoto frowns, now actually worried. “Then why would you recommend it?” He asks, very quietly.

Kyoko takes a while to respond. In fact, she doesn’t respond until she’s actually finished her dinner, as well as his. It was getting cold so he may as well let her have it. “Do some looking, and if you have a better idea, tell me.” And then she heads to bed, because that’s just. A perfectly fine way of ending a conversation.

Makoto trudges on after her after about an hour of thinking (mostly lack thereof, with the television being such a terribly convenient and easy distraction) on the couch. Unlike most nights though, where the room is pitch black, her back turned from the door so as to not catch the stray rays of lights that he’s forgotten to turn off, it’s… actually still pitch black in there. But after a moment of letting his eyes adjust, he catches Kyoko’s alarmingly bright gaze cutting through the gloom.

“Can’t sleep?” He mutters as he stumbles through the dark, going off of his recollection of the room’s layout, reduced to something of barely any use through the haze of sleepiness tugging at his being.

“I can.” She replies slowly, watching him not unlike how a cat would watch their owner. Not that she or their relationship in general compares to that; she just has that… “look”. Like she knows everything. “Was just waiting for you to come to bed.”

If he’s being honest, it’s kind of exciting. It’s the look she gives when her interest is upon him entirely, something that earns a flattered blush every time. “Thank you then.” He chirps, before crawling into bed like a lizard wriggling beneath the warm sands of a desert, except much less gracefully.

He almost expects nothing to happen, oddly enough. He should have known Kyoko was waiting for a reason.

A warmth presses up against his back, and a hum against his ear. “Don’t have to go in until noon tomorrow.” Kyoko huffs. He can just sense her smile when he shivers. “So… we could…” something presses between his legs, and teases just the right spot, “have some time to ourselves, maybe…?”

Makoto is a weak man, and especially weak for his wife. And thus, all he can do is scrounge up what remains of his energy, roll over, and let the franticness of their motions do the rest. ------------------------------------

It’s quite a hike to get to the cave they’ve been looking at. The route is safe, spacious, and short for the most part; it’s apparently a tour “good for beginners”, and while Makoto believes their caving adventures will begin and end with this one, it’s nice to know that this place doesn’t have any curveballs. Or spike-filled areas. Or tunnels one can only crawl through. Or maybe even fractures.

“Stop worrying.” Kyoko demands, his thoughts coming to a harsh stop. He manages not to be totally thrown off, following hastily after his wife as they trudge along a pebble-filled path.

He sighs when he catches up, glancing around. Just west there’s Tokyo, bustling with life, but it’s far enough only to serve as a backdrop to the hill-covered fields they’re in. They follow a path lined by thin ropes tied to sticks in the ground every other step, as despite the lack of actually dangerous areas nearby, there’s a lot of… well, area. The Tragedy changed a lot of the landscape, more so than most would believe.

Stopping his mind from wandering too far again, Makoto directs his attention ahead. They have a few other people with them, much more diverse in their body type than he assumes the average would be for much more difficult to traverse caves. They talk amongst themselves, all of them clearly going with someone they know for the trip. Ahead of them, the tour guides walk, though he can’t tell what they’re doing. He doubts it to be much at all, really.

“Are you excited?” He finally asks, careful not to speak loudly. He doesn’t want to draw much attention from their peers here, they’re lucky enough to have only garnered a few curious looks.

“Of course.” Kyoko replies, just as quiet. “I’m sorry it had to be delayed so much, cases just kept piling up.”

Makoto scoffs. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re able to help people.” Adjusting to keep a good hold on his backpack, he reaches over to grasp Kyoko’s hand. She’s changed her gloves today. Much rougher. “Even if it’s not another year until we get a chance like this again, I’m satisfied.”

He hopes for a smile, or the most likely quirk of the lips she gives when beyond the walls of their home. He earns neither.

“I’m not.” She tightens her grip, tugging him forwards. “Come on. We’re falling behind.”

Makoto nods, silent as he follows her up the steep incline, and silent still until they come to the entrance to the cave.

He can only think of an open maw when he sees the entrance. It sits neatly above the ground, embedded into the side of the hill’s peak, moss creeping over the exposed rock. Various plants and flowers bloom from cracks in the walls he can see, reaching out towards the sunlight beyond. But as he looks upon the entrance, the teasing glimpse it shows of its surely vast depths, he can’t help but think they’re trying to escape the dark rather than gain any sunlight.

The heat must be getting to him.

“Alright everyone!” One of the guides chirps, clapping their hands to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s do a quick check to make sure everyone has what they need!”

Makoto remembers all their supplies, and part of him knows that he has everything, but anxiety urges him to check once more. Plus, he needs to actually put some of it on now. That too.

He crouches down and pulls his backpack around, trying not to focus on the cave. Instead, he mentally lists off each item as he finds it; helmet, gloves, boots, first aid kit, and a flashlight. Not much really, and he’s more than happy about that fact.

Makoto sighs, putting on each item he needs and putting away the rest. He’s careful about the gloves in particular as he puts them on; the helmet may have a light that could break if he’s not cautious, but Kyoko picked these out for him specifically before this trip. She has very strong opinions about them, and apparently these are the best pair for this sort of task that she could find. And they must be, they’re very comfortable! A perfect fit even, despite the fact that she gave them to him on the way here without any warning. He can’t imagine what they must have cost.

After checking for his caving suit and quickly realizing that he already put it on before making this trek, Makoto shoves his old shoes and socks into the back, hopping back up just as everyone else seems to be handed something.

“Now, before we head in, I want you all to get a good look at this map.” The guide says as they hand a sheet of paper to each group. “Even if this is a short trip, and we know this place like the backs of our hands, there’s a few turns here and there!”

Kyoko takes the map they’re given, Makoto peering at it from over her shoulder, having to crane his neck to get a good look. It doesn’t seem like too much, thankfully; there’s a meander or two, but none on the main path, thank the gods. He’d prefer not to have to do any crawling during this!

“It’s a straight shot, huh?” He comments absentmindedly, resting his chin on his wife’s shoulder.

She merely huffs, reaching back to thread her fingers through his hair. Despite the unsatisfying feeling of the gloves she’s wearing right now, he eagerly leans into the touch. “Yes. I’ve seen pictures of the cave as well, and it appears to not be very dangerous, unless one was actually being reckless. Should take about twenty minutes, at most.”

Makoto grins, wrapping his arms around Kyoko’s waist. She makes another sound, something like a noncommittal grunt, but doesn’t nudge him away as he expects. It’s nice. “And after this we go eat at Stellar Cafe.”

“We ate there last week.” She quickly reminds him, paying only a partial bit of attention to what those in front of them are saying. Something about the first aid kits, nothing very important.

“Too bad.” He gives her a quick peck on the cheek. “I like their food, and the service is nice.”

He can hear her stifle a laugh as she pulls away. “You like their curry. There’s perfectly good curry elsewhere.” She reaches into her own backpack, pulling out a walkie talkie. “Now get your radio out.”

“Don’t you think this is kind of overboard?” He pulls it out anyway of course, making sure his is connected to hers. “They never recommended these for caving, at least not on the sites I looked at.” Seems that most of the time people are expected to stay together anyway, if there’s more than one person at all. He’s surprised Kyoko decided to do this.

“Can’t ever be too safe.” Is all she says, before looking to the cave. “It’s time to go.”

Makoto follows her gaze, and sees the rest of the group already clambering over rocks as they enter the hole. “Ah.” He pauses, choking on nothing for a moment so fleeting he can’t even react. “Yeah.”

If he showed any hesitation, Kyoko does not acknowledge it. Instead, she walks ahead, and with heavy steps he pretends are eager, Makoto follows her into the dark.

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

and that's it! quite a bit, and definitely not the best writing in the world, but im very proud of it so far! if you can then please rb this and give your thoughts, i do this for free but there's a reason i post my fics at all, which is validation <3 basically what keeps me going and able to continue writing at all, actually.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

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.

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Waking Up Alone

This is for my anon who requested something angsty and fluffy with El Phantasmo- hope you enjoy! The idea is partially inspired by the Cowboy Junkies song "Sun comes up, it's Tuesday morning". (I am the queen of sad lady songs, I swear.)

Pairing: El Phantasmo x OFC

Word count: 3.091

Content advisory: language, sexual references

Sun comes up, it’s Tuesday morning

Hits me straight in the eye

Guess you forgot to close the blind last night

Oh that’s right, I forgot, it was me

The morning sun feels like an assault on your eyes, punching its way through your delicate eyelids and right through into your nerves. Yeah, you definitely had a few too many drinks last night. Gin and tonic with the girls, which you hadn’t done in ages. It ended up with pitchers at the dive you’d been frequenting since you were too young to get into bars, the place that truly catered to everyone. Beer after liquor, never sicker; liquor before beer, in the clear. Why the hell had you switched from liquor to beer?

Doesn’t matter now, you think, wrestling yourself into a sitting position while protecting your eyes with a trembling hand. Wrestling yourself. You sigh a little as you consider the term that immediately springs to mind. You didn’t mention the breakup to the girls. It still feels too strange, too ephemeral. Were you ever really a couple anyway? You suppose that’s the crux of the problem. You didn’t know where you stood, so you’d estimated that you were somewhere it turned out you weren’t close to.

If Riley The Perfidious Bastard were around, he would have made sure to lower the Roman shade you’d fashioned out of an old curtain and some bamboo rods. He was always impressed at your ability to create homey touches from spare parts. Now that he’s not around, you realize how much you’d liked having your abilities praised.

If Riley were here, you’d also be waking up to the smell of coffee, the most wonderful thing in the world for someone in your condition. But there’s nothing. No rich, roasted scent, no happy, burbling noises from the machine in the kitchen. You have to get up and take care of it yourself, which you haven’t had to do in a long time. Goddammit.

You run one hand over the expanse of your king bed, the plump mattress extending almost all the way to the window. Sure, the thing took up most of the room but you didn’t care. The room was only going to be used for sleep anyway. Well, sleep and that other, delicious thing. That thing you missed so much. Well, you missed it the way that Riley had done it. If he was really gone, you were going to have a hell of a time finding someone who could make you want to spend all day in bed the way he had. You still hadn’t made your way back to the center of the bed. Somehow, your mind refused to accept that things were over. You were still making space for him.

With a dramatic effort that has no one to appreciate it, you heave yourself off the bed and make your way towards the kitchen. You’re halfway through the process of making coffee when you realize that you’re wearing one of his shirts, one of the ones with his logo emblazoned on it. You must have just reached for the first thing you could find when you got home and, of course, that would be something from the pile of shirts you’d made next to the bedroom door; shirts to be given to charity because you sure as hell didn’t want to look at them anymore. That pile had been sitting there for three weeks, the dried traces of angry tears still on every part of it, and you hadn’t gotten around to carrying everything to the donation bin less than a block away.

Coffee is more important than anything right now, so you focus on that. You also shove a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster oven. Bread and peanut butter will help ease the seething broth in your gut and allow you to concentrate on the day. Which would be even more useful if your day actually required concentration. Band practice had been pushed back to tomorrow because Kyle and Lily were off in the country visiting her parents. Sure, you could work on the guitar parts by yourself, but it’s not like there was anything to learn. You had a handful of gigs coming up in the next few weeks, mostly local, all focused on your last album. Practice was just a matter of making sure you all kept tight and maybe came up with some new ways to make the live experience a little different for people.

As autumn shifted closer to winter, it was always the quiet season. Students were running short on money, the weather became unpredictable, and going on the road became less and less lucrative the closer it got to the holidays. It was approaching that time of year when people started to nest rather than seek a mate. Or at least that’s how it was for most people. It just wasn’t that way for wrestlers dividing their time between North America and Japan. You cringe at how that thought makes you recall the fights you’d had in the last few days of your whatever the hell it was because apparently it wasn’t a relationship.

It’s a very different feeling than at the beginning of spring, when everything was starting to pick up, when you constantly felt excited about what the immediate future held, and when you’d agreed to go to a wrestling show because Nadia was doing makeup for it. You and Wendy had shown up already drunk and had taken advantage of Nadia’s invitation to come backstage.

You’d stolen beer from kraft services and watched Nadia attending to her work while you tried to distract her by making her laugh. You’d been surprisingly successful but she was such a pro that she had no problems. The women took the longest for her to do, but all the performers had to come in to make sure that they’re coloring and contouring was perfect for tv lighting and that was how you’d met him.

The two of you had locked eyes as soon as he came in the room and had remained that way as he settled into Nadia’s chair. You hadn’t been able to tear yourself away from those huge, shiny orbs with their saucy expression and despite your inebriated state, you could feel that stare lodging itself in your memory forever.

“This is El Phantasmo,” she giggled.

“He’s a what now?” you’d snorted in response, relishing the flare of indignation in his eyes.

“Are we letting just anyone back here now?” he snapped.

“These are my friends!” Nadia assured him, slurring her speech as she motioned to you and Wendy. You’d been feeding her the beer you’d purloined as well.

“Like I said. We’re letting just anyone in.”

At that, you’d given his seat a shove with your foot, despite the fact that Nadia had started to apply bronzer to his cheeks. He was left with a dark streak across one side of his face and nose, which had made you and Wendy crack up.

“Come on,” Nadia chided, “I need to make these guys look good.”

“Good luck with that,” you laughed.

The man you knew only as El Phantasmo flipped you off and you’d returned the gesture, swiveling on your seat a little so that your hips were thrust forward. It wasn’t that he was the most gorgeous thing you’d ever seen, far from it. But something about him just got to you. He had such an effect on you that even as you were mocking him, you let your body move and pose in ways that were intended to resonate with his basest masculine instincts.

You’d been captivated by the show, particularly by his display of athleticism, as well as his bratty defiance to what the audience wanted. You’d booed him with everything you had and you’d been so drawn to him that you’d had to restrain yourself from running to the ring and grabbing his pert ass right there.

Instead, you’d made your way backstage again and insinuated yourself into the group that was going for drinks. You insisted that Nadia come along because Wendy had headed home as soon as the show was over. You wanted someone to hang out with so that it wasn’t totally obvious what and who you were there for. It didn’t really matter, though, because everyone was so friendly and most were so drunk that they didn’t care that they had no idea who you were.

You’d kept an eye on him for a while and then approached the bar when you saw him going for a refill, elbowing your way in so that you were right next to him, bumping his shoulder hard as you got to the bar.

“You wanna buy me a drink?” you crooned.

“No.”

“Fine, I’ll buy you one.”

“Does that mean I have to hang out with you?”

“Yup. Besides, you know you want to.”

“I really don’t.”

He was laughing a little when you said it, and when you leaned over to scream your order at the bartender, ordering him a random drink since you hadn’t even bothered asking, he ran his hand down your back and gave your ass a quick slap. You’d smirked to yourself. You knew you’d seen the spark in his eyes.

“Riley,” he shouted right into your ear.

“Deaf now,” you shot back, pushing his drink at him. “You’re skinny for a wrestler.”

“Don’t need to bulk up when you’re as good as I am.”

“Anything else you’re good at?”

“Fucking women with big mouths until they can’t say anything but my name.”

The two of you had spent the night all over his apartment and, yeah, he’d lived up to his own hype. The sex had been outright feral, biting and clawing and animal-like noises until you were both too exhausted to move.

You thought about dropping a hint that you wanted to sleep there but since it was kind of obvious that this was a one-night thing, you’d waited a while then pulled your clothes back on to go. The two of you shared a surprisingly tender kiss at the door and when you made to leave, he’d looked surprised.

“You don’t want to exchange numbers or something?” He’d sounded legitimately surprised.

“Sure.”

You’d entered each other into your phones and you went home in a cab, reflecting that you did feel more of a connection than you’d realized at first.

Still, you held off calling him so as not to look desperate, but he’d called you a couple of days later. Not knowing what else to do, and not wanting to admit you were broke until your next royalty check cleared, you’d invited him over for dinner. The two of you had cooked some pasta together and drank a couple of bottles of wine and then tore into each other again, gradually making your way to your bed. Once again, it had been mind-blowing, but the real surprise came at the end of the night.

“Mind if I stay here?” he asked quietly.

You’d patted the pillows beside you and grinned. You’d drifted off thinking that, yes, this was something a little special and you’d woken up thinking the same thing.

Craving the crisp air on your reddened cheeks, you grab a sweater, jeans and boots and that wonderful alpaca poncho you’d found when you and Riley went to that farmer’s market. It was a weird thing to find in a place that was supposed to be all about food but it didn’t matter because it was soft and full of deep colours and even though it had been hotter than hell outside, you knew that you were going to get plenty of use from it once the weather turned colder. At the time, you thought that you’d still be going for walks and dinner and drinks with Riley.

As you get ready, your phone buzzes. Wendy sending you a message.

“Never let me do that again.”

You chuckle, remembering that however bad you got last night, she was the one who ended up trying to dance on the bar, refusing to acknowledge that she couldn’t climb up on it. You’ll all have a good laugh about it later but right now, you can’t deal with it. And the reason you can’t deal with it is because for a second, you’d hoped that it was him texting you.

Your body immediately knows where it wants to go, turning the first corner and heading for the hipster diner you eat from too often. They make a mean breakfast burrito but today, you limit yourself to one of those extra buttery croissants you love so much.

Joanne is working the counter, which is kind of remarkable since you remember running into her late into the night, but although her face is flushed the same as you, she’s smiling warmly at every customer.

“Hey there, lady,” she chuckles. “Still walking?”

“Barely. May I please have coffee and a croissant? And may I ask why Peter isn’t working this morning?”

She prepares your order, grinning. “Well he had some of the guys over to watch the game last night and it turns out he’s in worse shape than I am.”

“The bastard.”

“He was totally unconscious this morning. I hope he’s not dead because being a widow would suck.”

Everyone is in a relationship. Everyone you know is in love. It hurts a lot to think that one of those things is still true of you.

Things had gone to shit over an instagram post of all things. Him during a trip back to Japan, posing with a woman who looked straight out of a modelling agency. Immediately, you’d felt in your gut that something was off and although you hadn’t wanted to seem like you were scrutinizing his every movement, you’d been unable to hold back.

“Is something going on with you and that girl in the pictures with you?”

“Going on?” He’d seemed puzzled. “I mean, we hook up when I’m in Japan. No big deal.”

That’s where he had been wrong. It was a very big deal for you. The two of you hadn’t talked about your status but you realized that you had been assuming that because you’d been wrapped up in the romance of it all that he was too. Apparently not.

It had led to a huge fight, then another resentful exchange, and then he was back in Japan for a week. You hadn’t messaged him at all while he was gone. He didn’t contact you when he got back. You’d come home one day to find your spare set of keys in an envelope in your mailbox. No note, nothing. No request to get his set back from you. Giving someone a spare set of keys was supposed to mean something. How many women had keys to his place?

You ponder it glumly for the umpteenth time as you make your way back to the home that always feels strangely empty to you now. You’d been in the place for five years. He’d been coming around for five months and somehow it feels like he belonged there. You see a figure sitting on the front step of one of the buildings and for a second, you think it’s him, waiting for you to get home, like he used to before he had keys and could go in and surprise you with dinner, or flowers, or-

Then you realize that it actually is him, sitting on your step, drinking a beer and staring off into space. He doesn’t even look up when you come to a halt next to him.

“Dude, it’s nine in the morning. Are you starting early or finishing late?”

He shrugs without looking at you and after a long moment of silence, you sit down next to him. You tear the croissant in half and silently offer it to him but he shakes his head.

“For the love of god, eat something.”

He shakes his head again.

“Fine, become an alcoholic and drink yourself to death for all I care.” You bite into the delicious pastry, humming in satisfaction and finally he reaches over and takes the other half from you.

“Good boy.”

“Here’s the thing,” he says quietly. “I thought that since you’d never said anything, it meant that you had other guys in your life. All the guys I work with either lie to their wines and girlfriends or they just have these open things going on and I guess after a while it starts to seem like that’s the normal thing to do.”

“Well I never said that I was opposed to that. I never said that we couldn’t work something out. But you didn’t even give me the chance. You just carried on as if I didn’t even exist.”

“I didn’t, though.” For the first time, he turns to look at you. His eyes are red and swollen and something tells you that it isn’t from drinking. “I said that I’d hooked up with that girl and I had. In the past. Nothing happened when I was there last time.”

“Then why did you let me believe that something had?”

“I have no fucking idea. And that’s been killing me.”

With a heavy sigh, you reach out and place your hand on his. He immediately grabs hold.

“I think,” he says pensively, “that I felt nervous about telling you I was serious about you. I was nervous because I haven’t felt this serious about someone before. And when you got angry, I think I just flipped out and thought it meant that I was wrong.”

“Wrong for having feelings?”

“Wrong for thinking you did too.”

Your stomach flips and you tighten your hold on his hand.

“Well I did.”

He nods and stares off, his face twitching a little like he’s trying to keep from crying.

“I still do,” you tell him.

He turns and stares at you, big eyes surprised and hopeful.

“Really? Because I’m an asshole.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, “I know.”

“I miss you,” he whispers.

“Why don’t you come in and have a cup of coffee?”

“Only if I can make it,” he grins. “You always put too much in.”

“Asshole,” you grunt, standing up and pulling him with you.

As you unlock the door, he leans in and plants a warm kiss on your cheek.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

The two of you enter your flat, hand in hand again.

[byrachel]

QUIL ATEARA BROKEN PROMISE |part one

word count: 1475

summary: after (y/n) was abandoned by all three of her friends, quil tries to win his best friend back by showing her the truth 

warnings: some angst??

note: I know this was totally not what you wanted so I will make it up by making a fluffy part two and work on the other requested imagine! Thank you for being so patient!

Once Quil was in her room, she asked herself why she let him in. He cut his hair, got a tattoo and was walking around without his shirt like Sam’s gang, like he would call them. She laughed ironically as she remembered how distraught he was when Embry and Jacob had left them to join him as well. He became exactly what he hated. 

She let herself fall onto her bed, trying to comprehend what happened to the boy she used to call her best friend. Quil watched her hopelessly and decided to keep silent, not yet knowing what to tell her. He knew it wasn’t likely she would welcome him with open arms, he was lucky he let her in at all. 

As tears blurred her vision, she took the glasses resting on the bridge of nose off her face. She tried to hold up the cold-hearted act, but it only took seconds for it to break, tears burning into her skin as she silently cried. She hid her face in her hands, hoping she would wake up from the awful nightmare she was having.

With an aching heart and a pained expression on his face, Quil slowly walked up to (Y/N). He kneeled down in front of her, getting to her eye level. “I’m sorry.” Were his first words to her in months, whispering in the most apologetic tone. “I’m really sorry, (Y/N).”

“I just don’t get what happened.” She said through her sobs, pulling her hands away from her face. “Why would you do this to yourself?”

“I didn’t have a choice.” He explained meeting her red, puffy eyes. It took everything in him to not wrap his arms around her to comfort her. He hated he was the reason for the pain she was experiencing. “I wish it was different, but I can’t walk away from this.”

The sadness in her eyes shifted to anger in a split second. He chose to be with Sam and his friends over her and their friendship of over a decade. “You can’t walk away from Sam, but you can walk away from me?”

“No, (Y/N), that’s not it at all.” He sighed, regretting the way he chose to word what he was actually trying to say. He was doing more harm than good. “I know it sounds like I’m probably just making excuses, but it was for your safety.”

“That’s your explanation for disappearing for almost two months?” She furrowed her eyebrows angrily at the most cliché excuse she had ever heard, sniffling between her words. “You could’ve called and told me you just needed some space or something.”

“I should’ve called and I can’t tell you enough how much regret not doing that.” He spoke softly. “Just let me make it up to you. I’ll do anything.”

“What could make this okay, Quil?” She sniffled once again, looking down at the floor. “First Embry, then Jacob and now you. You guys are the only friends I had and you dropped me like I was nothing. Do you know how worthless that made me feel?”

By then Quil knew nothing else could fix how she felt, except the truth. He had to tell her what had not only happened to him, but the others as well. He knew that sooner or later he had to tell her, because of their bond but he didn’t want it to be this soon. He had no idea how she would react. Just telling her would make him seem crazy and that was exactly how he felt when he shifted for the first time. It was like a crazy fever dream.

“If I told you that what I’m about to show you will explain everything, will you come with me?” He asked her. 

It fell quiet between them for a moment. (Y/N) was trying to figure out what it could be, because she didn’t want to waste her time on his lies any longer. “What is it?” 

“I have to show you, otherwise you won’t believe me.” He explained. “But you need to come with me.”

“I can’t just leave right now. It’s bad enough I let you sneak in.” She dried her tears with her sleeve, sighing annoyed at his stupid idea. He knew how strict her parents were. The only reason they were allowed to be friends was because her dad always went fishing with Billy and Quil’s grandad. 

“What about tomorrow morning before school?” He suggested with a hopeful voice, because she was clearly considering it.

She bit her lip briefly, but thinking about it she knew she really had nothing to lose. It was either losing him again or him showing a legitimate reason. She had already gotten used to her life without the boys, despite being hurt it wasn’t like she couldn’t continue with her life. It was just dull without them. 

She softly shrugged her shoulders, agreeing to meet up with him. “What time?”

“Six thirty.” He smiled softly. He could feel his heart raise from excitement. This was the chance to win his best friend back. She wasn’t fond of giving second chances, but her giving him one meant there was still hope.

The following morning (Y/N) was up much earlier than usual. She was so curious to find out what Quil wanted to show her, but no logical explanation popped up into her head and it had kept her up all night. Yawns passed her lips as she put on her clothes and keeping her eyes open felt like a chore, but just like she had promised she was standing outside of her house at 6:30.

Quil was already on her front porch with a nervous smile. (Y/N) walked up to him as she closed her coat, feeling the cold morning wind stroke against her skin. She was kind of amazed how he was walking around like he couldn’t catch a pneumonia without proper clothing on, but she decided not to comment on it. 

“So what did you want to show me?” 

“Just come with me.”

She followed him into the forest, the scenery reminding her of every horror movie about teenagers camping in the woods and getting killed one by one. She could feel shivers go down her spine and suddenly regretted thinking about it, not knowing what she was getting herself into. 

Quil stopped in his tracks, turning around to her. (Y/N) was looking around her to find anything that stood out as she stopped walking herself, but didn’t see anything. “Is this the part where you kill me?” She sarcastically commented, her eyes shifting between the tall trees and greenery around her.

Quil snickered and shook his head. “No, but I need you to turn around.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, but wasn’t in the mood to argue, just doing what he said. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or are just gonna stay vague about it?”

Keeping her eyes on the horizon which was barely visible through the leaves, she waited patiently while listening to what Quil was doing behind her. She could hear some shifting and zipper going down, almost turning around to see what he was doing. She stopped herself, blood immediately rushing to her cheeks as she tried to cover up her actions by shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Is he undressing himself? She thought to herself. 

“Remember the legends my dad used to tell us? Some ancestors of the Quileute tribe were able to shape shift and protected their people from the cold ones?” She could hear his shorts fall to the ground, but was more focused on what he was telling her than whatever he was doing. She heard him backing up even further away from her. “They aren’t just legends, but I knew you wouldn’t believe me if I just told you so I’m going to show you.”

“Show me?” (Y/N) raised her eyebrows in confusion. 

Aggressive cracking and shifting filled her ears, making eyes widen and move further away from Quil before she quickly turned around to see what was happening. Her shaking legs were barely enough to keep her standing as she looked up into the eyes dark grey furred wolf. 

She fell back onto her back, a high pitched squeal leaving her lips as she held her arms in front of her to shield herself from the big creature towering over her. Her heart was in her throat as she was bracing herself to be eaten alive. When nothing happened she carefully lowered her arm down to see what it was doing.

He had lied down in front of her, not doing anything but breathing heavily and staring back at her. Those familiar dark brown eyes were staring back at her. 

(Y/N)’s eyes widened once again as she leaned towards him. “Quil?”

masterlist | part two | edited

tagged: requested by @midnightcoldrain