#i made these at the airport when i thought i was still flying home today

[schadentekkers]

[lcriedlastnight]

Friends to lovers with Lando

"Who's the most beautiful person you've seen?"

"The one that's asking the question."

"What?"

"What."

teehee, this one made me giggle! thanks anon!

tw: fem!reader, swears, idek let me know if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.1k

"it's a mate date!" your voice echos throughout the hallway of yours and your roommates flat. you and lando had just recently become friends and he had so kindly suggested that on his next day off you should both head out on a 'mate date' as he had called it.

"what the fuck is a mate date?" your roommate asks as she potters around in the kitchen. "surely you wouldn't be putting that much effort in for a mate date?".

her questions stuns you for a second. it seriously makes you stop in your tracks, one hand paused halfway through trying to put in your prettiest pair of earrings. okay, maybe you had a little crush on lando but you were not mentioning it, to him or anyone else for that matter. you knew it would either blow up in your face or you would ruin the blossoming friendship between you and lando.

you kick back into action and head back through to the kitchen to meet your roommate, bag in hand as you give her a twirl so she can evaluate your outfit. you get an enthusiastic reply from her once you are still again.

"is it a crime to want to look good when i leave the house. i don't get to do it as often as i want so when i do i'm gonna go all out." you tell her with a stern tone. is looking good for your crush too extreme these days??

after you were one hundred percent sure you were ready to leave you shoot lando a text, telling him you were on your way to the little cafe you both had decided on a few nights prior. it was this cutesy little french inspired place. the only issue was that it was in monaco. you did not live in monaco, neither were you actually in the country right now. lando, being well lando, had offered to fly you out just for the occasion. as he had said to you over text a week ago 'i'm desperate to see you again'. of course it was only a platonic desperation to see you, you had told yourself as you made your way to the airport. you did not really want to go on a plane in your date outfit and makeup but you really had no choice as lando had near enough forced you on that plane.

the journey was not too long and by the time you had landed at the airport lando was waiting for you. a denim jacket on and a lovely bunch of fresh, pink tulips. you were not too sure how lando knew what your favourite flower was but you sure as hell were not complaining.

"hey! you look lovely!" lando greets, warm smile gracing his tanned face. you roll your eyes as he pushed the flowers forward for you to grasp. you sling your tote bag over your shoulder as you take them from him.

"shut up, i've just come off a flight. you are laying on the charm thick today." you respond. lando laughs a little then motions for you to follow him out and into the car waiting outside.

"the cafe isn't too far from here but i didn't wanna make you walk there." lando drives his open-roofed car along the streets of monaco and you barely take in anything he says to you the whole drive there, even though it was barely a ten minute drive. the scenery around you was simple gorgeous and you did not think that you had ever seen anything as stunning in your entire life. you were completely mesmerised. and so was lando, but for a completely different reason.

once you both arrive outside the cafe, lando is quick to speed around the bonnet of the car to open your door for you. it makes you smile so it was completely worth the bruise lando is sure will form tomorrow once you have gone back home. a nice little reminder of the day, lando had thought to himself as he takes your arm and leads you inside the cafe.

lando had offered to order your drink for you as you waited at your table. once lando had returned with your drinks he gives you yours and sits down opposite you.

you both make small talk with each other as you catch up. you had both been texting pretty much everyday but there was just some things that just had to be told in person. you both end up asking each other wild questions. lando had just asked you "what is the highest amount of bagels you could eat in a day?" and after you had both had a pretty heated discussion about whether or not you could actually manage the twenty-six that you had answered, it was your turn to ask.

"okay this is gonna sound pretty childish, like it's so high school." you laugh into your white mug. "but i have to know."

lando smirks at you. "oh you just have to know?" he teases.

"i do. who's the most beautiful person you've ever seen?" your eyes trail over his features as you ask, knowing your own answer already.

"the girl that's asking the question." lando replies instantly. no hesitation. no stopping to think about it. he answered as if he had known the answer before you had even asked the question.

your brows raise in surprise as you question him. "what?".

"what."

you are both just sitting staring at each other for a second or two in silence. lando regretting not thinking before he spoke and answered your question. there was no way he had not just fucked up the budding friendship between the two of you. you regretting even asking the question. there was no way lando could mean that anyway, he was so obviously laying it on thick because he had caught wind of your pathetic little crush. how? you had no idea.

"look-"

"did you-"

you both start talking at the same time, an awkward little laugh falling between the both of you. lando clears his throat and tells you to go first.

"did you- do you mean that?" you ask, not even hesitating to ask him.

lando is so quick to nod. "of course i did. i really like you. i know it kinda messes up whatever kinda friendship we have going on right now." lando's hand rubs the back of his neck in a nervous action. your grin eases his nerves though.

"hm, i guess i don't really mind messing this up." lando smiles and you really think you have made the best decision of your life.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Suprise bubs

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !non-athletic fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: who doesn't love suprise visits on important days.

The hum of a hairdryer echoed through the suite as I stepped quietly down the hall, my heart racing in anticipation. Paige had no idea I was here. She thought I was still back home, dealing with work and classes, completely oblivious to the fact that I had coordinated this entire surprise with her best friends. Today was one of the most important days of her life—the WNBA Draft—and there was no way I’d miss it.

I tugged my dress down a little, smoothing out the fabric. It was pink, flowy, and entirely different from the oversized hoodie I’d been wearing when I left the airport hours earlier. My heels clicked softly against the tile as I stopped outside the door to her suite.

“Is she almost ready?” I whispered to Nika, who peeked out of the door.

Her eyes lit up as she nodded. “Perfect timing, ma. She’s almost done. You sure you’re ready for this?”

“Born ready,” I whispered, grinning.

Nika chuckled, letting me slip inside. The scene was chaotic but organized—Paige sat on a stool near the window, her hair being curled as Azzi and KK lounged on the couch nearby, chatting about the draft. The room smelled like strawberries and Nutella, her favorite snack, which she held in her lap, too preoccupied to notice me sneaking in.

I took a deep breath, letting my nerves settle, and leaned casually against the doorframe. “Wow, P. I didn’t know they made statues that moved.”

Paige’s head snapped up, her wide blue eyes locking on mine. The spoonful of Nutella she’d been holding froze mid-air, and her jaw dropped. “Baby?”

“Surprise,” I said, smirking as I walked toward her.

She stood up so fast she nearly knocked over the plate of strawberries. “Ma, what—how—what are you doing here?” Her voice was filled with disbelief, and she blinked rapidly as if making sure I was real.

“It’s our anniversary, isn’t it?” I said, stopping in front of her and tipping my head back to meet her gaze.

Paige wrapped her arms around me, lifting me slightly off the ground. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“Crazy about you,” I teased, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

She set me down gently, her hands lingering on my waist. “You didn’t have to fly out. You’ve got so much going on.”

I cupped her face, brushing my thumb along her jawline. “I’m not missing this, P. This is your dream, and I’ll always be here to support you.”

“Ugh, you two are disgusting,” Nika said, throwing a pillow at us.

“Jealous?” I shot back, laughing as Paige pulled me closer.

“Maybe,” Nika muttered, but she was grinning.

Paige tugged me toward her stool, sitting back down and keeping one hand in mine. “You really didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” I said, leaning against the counter. “How’s the glam going? You look good, bubs.”

“Thanks, mamas,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “They’re almost done, I think.”

I grinned. “Well, good. Gotta make sure my girl looks perfect when she goes number one.”

“Stop,” she groaned, covering her face with her free hand. “You’re gonna jinx it.”

“Never,” I teased, winking at her stylist. “But maybe add a little extra blush. She looks so cute when she’s all flushed.”

“Baby,” Paige whined, her face now fully red.

“What?” I said innocently, laughing as she shook her head.

When her glam session was done, Paige stood and turned to me, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. “You look beautiful, ma.”

“Thanks, P,” I said, doing a little spin for her. “Gotta make sure I’m worthy of being your plus-one.”

“You’re always worthy,” she said softly, pulling me in for a kiss.

The draft was a whirlwind of emotions. I held Paige’s hand tightly as her name was called first, the room erupting in cheers. She turned to me immediately, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “We did it, baby,” she whispered, squeezing my hand.

“No, you did it,” I said, kissing her quickly before she headed to the stage.

Watching her stand there, holding up her new team’s jersey with that million-watt smile, filled me with so much pride I thought my heart might burst.

After the draft, Paige had arranged for a private dinner to celebrate both her achievement and our anniversary. She led me into a quiet, candlelit restaurant, her hand never leaving mine. When we reached our table, my eyes widened. A massive bouquet of flowers sat waiting for me, a mix of roses, lilies, and peonies.

“Paige,” I breathed, looking up at her.

“Happy anniversary, ma,” she said, leaning down to kiss me. “Thank you for being my rock. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

I smiled, blinking back tears. “You’re gonna make me cry, P.”

“Good,” she teased, pulling out my chair for me.

Later that night, as we lay curled up on the couch back in her hotel suite, Paige pulled out her phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked, snuggling closer.

“Posting this,” she said, showing me an Instagram story. It was a picture of me from dinner, holding the bouquet of flowers. The caption read: Draft day, anniversary, all with my forever girl. 💜

“Paige,” I whispered, my heart swelling.

“It’s time, baby,” she said, pressing her forehead to mine. “The world deserves to know who I’m doing all of this for.”

I kissed her softly, letting the love I felt for her speak for itself.

That night, as her post flooded with likes and comments, I realized just how lucky I was to have her—not as a superstar, but as my P.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[lwwife]

Strip Tease

Smut: Leah!Top, Strap on, role play, fluff

Word count: 1,870

Based on this request.

-

Leah’s pov:

“I miss you so much baby” I whine through the phone to my girlfriend who’s stood in the kitchen, phone resting against a saltshaker. She leans forward onto the bench and her cleavage spills through the top of her low-cut singlet, I squeeze my thighs slightly.

“I miss you more, I’ve been craving you, baby.”

I giggle, “Huh? Is that right?” I smirk amused at her neediness.

“Yes, god I can’t wait till you’re back”,

“So soon my love, so soon”, I reply.

-

Today I finally fly home. I’ve been away for 8 weeks on camp with the international team. Y/n and my mum are driving to the airport to pick me up. I told them I really could’ve just caught a cab, but they insisted. My mum claimed she wanted to make sure I was safe like always, and Y/n stated she was desperate to see me in my lioness tracksuit, which made me giggle.

“Do you reckon she’s excited” Keria shouts, gesturing to me, pointing out the photos of Y/n scrolling through my phone.

“Give it up man” I roll my eyes.

-

Y/n’s pov:

“Eeeeeek” I squeal as we pull up to the airport.

“Excited love?” Amanda turns her head to me, smiling, hands on the wheel.

“Just a little” I smile sheepishly.

“Where the fuck is she?” I groan stood outside the gate, “oh shit sorry, I mean-fuck.” I sigh.

“Y/n calm down” Amanda laughs, “you’re allowed to swear, I’m from Milton Keynes, haven’t you heard Leah’s potty mouth?” We both chuckle at the thought.

“What’s so funny?” my face drops at the sound of my favourite girl; I instantly turn around and latch myself onto her. “Woah” Leah grumbles at the sudden impact.

“God, I missed you so much” I mumble into her neck, arms wrapped around it, and legs around her waist. She laughs slightly,

“I missed you too baby girl”, I squeeze her hard one more time and detach myself from her. I place my hand on her jaw and give her a soft passionate kiss. “I love you” she whispers.

I grab her hand and take a step back, looking down at her in her all-black lioness tracksuit. “Give us a twirl then” I grin. I bite my lip as she spins and bring her back in for a hug once she’s back facing me. I squeeze her ass, “I can’t wait to take this off of you later” I whisper in her ear.

-

“Thanks, Mandy!” I kiss Amanda’s cheek as she closes the boot.

“Bye Mumma, thanks again” Leah hugs her mum goodbye. I grab Leah’s hand and we walk to the front door. The second we’re inside I push Leah against the door and attack her lips. Her hands instantly find the back of my neck as mine find her ass, tapping lightly telling her to jump. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I push her further into the door. She moans hungrily into my mouth at the friction. I begin to walk us towards the stairs, “wait” Leah says, I pause waiting for her next words, “I need to get changed”.

“What?” I question, “What are you talking about?”

“I need to get changed; we’re going out for dinner” she responds casually.

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No baby I made a reservation.” Leah grins. I groan loudly.

“For fucks sake” I mumble.

-

“That was lovely darling thank you” I turn to Leah as we walk through the front door.

“No problem my love” I smile, and we both walk upstairs to our bedroom to get ready for bed. “Not so fast” Leah stops me as I begin pulling my shirt off, I look at her questioningly, and she pushes me softly to fall onto our low-raised bed.

I smirk up at her and raise my brows, “What are you doing?”

“Well…” she leans forward, “baby”, I groan slightly, “I thought I’d make up for lost time”. She smirks, pulling my bottom lip down with her thumb.

“Oh yeah? And how were you planning on doing that?

“Strip tease” I chuckle loudly, and then quickly stop when her face remains still, “Oh you’re serious, okay, go on then”. I grin, amused.

She grabs my face and squishes it, “You shut up and stop being a smart ass, or you won’t get anything, we clear?”, I nod still with a smug smirk on my face.

Leah steps back and presses play on her phone. Suddenly ‘I Was Never There’ by the Weeknd plays through our surround sound speakers in the bedroom, I guess those were good for something, I think. Leah is currently dressed in loose black pants, a baggy button-up black t-shirt, three buttons already undone, and a black belt, and I must say she looks unreal.

Leah begins walking towards me, lust in her eyes, fingertips on a button. She stands directly in front of me and slowly undoes one. I reach forward to grab her hips, but she smacks my hands away instantly. “No touching” she growls. She moves to the next button, slowly undoing it, again, this time her entire torso from the belly button up is on full display and I’m met with the sight of a bright red lacy bra, contrasting perfectly with her newly tanned toned abs. Her breasts look fuller than ever, and her nipples are visible through the fabric, already hardened. She grasps my chin and lifts my head, so my eyes meet hers. “I picked it just for you” she smiles.

“You’re beautiful Leah”, I respond mesmerised by the divine woman in front of me. She smiles and continues to the next button, undoing the next two the same way and her shirt finally flies fully open, she moves even closer and slowly shrugs the top off whilst also lowering herself to her knees. Leah is now knelt in front of me, topless, hands running up and down my thighs. The song in the back begins to build up and Leah turns around, slowly bending over. My breath hitches slightly, and she stands back up. Moving closer than she’s been all night, her stomach at my eye level. She slowly unbuckles her belt and throws it on the bed, she then moves to unzip her trousers and my stomach revels at the sight. She lets go and they drop swiftly to the floor. Leah is now standing in front of me, in a matching, red-laced set of lingerie.

My mouth goes dry, and my hands begin to shake. I reach forward to touch her in any way I can, but she steps back and walks into our closet. I sit still on the edge of the bed, waiting, speechless. Leah begins walking out of the closet, hands behind her back. She comes to stand in front of me once again and pushes me, so I fall on my back. She brings her other hand from behind her to reveal a set of handcuffs. “I thought we could try what we talked about”, we both smirk.

-

Flashback:

“Baby?” Leah whispers snuggled into Y/n’s side on the couch.

“Yes darling” Y/n looks down.

“I was uh well thinking-um-I-uh” she stutters. Y/n tilts Leah’s head up,

“What’s wrong bub?”

“No no nothing’s wrong I promise, I just um wanted to talk to you about something I uh I’ve been um thinking a little about.”

“Of course, darling, you can talk to me about anything” Y/n furrows her brows and frowns slightly.

“Okay well, I kind of want to um trysomeroleplayanditstotallyokayifyoudontijustthinkitcouldbereallyfun” Leah looks up sheepishly.

“Babe, I didn’t catch a single word of that”.

“Ugh okay, I was just thinking that maybe we could try some role play” Leah pauses and looks at Y/n waiting and nervous. “I mean we don’t have to it was just an idea but it's silly just forget about it” Leah blurts out and turns back to face the tv. Y/n grabs her face.

“I would love to” she grins excitedly.

“Really?!” Leah almost shouts.

“Yes baby, I think it’d be incredibly sexy. Did you have anything particular in mind?” Leah slowly moves towards her.

“Well, I’ve always liked the idea of putting you in handcuffs and punishing you for being a bad girl” Leah whispers.

End of Flashback

-

Y/n’s pov:

I'm now laying completely naked on the bed, hands cuffed above my head, Leah knelt in front of me in between my legs, with a police hat on and a 7-inch strap around her waist. Usually, I’d laugh at the sight of her in a hat but her naked body, clenched jaw, blonde hair falling over her breasts and blue eyes staring through me are turning me on like never before. “You’ve been a bad girl y/n” I nod and bite my lip. “Now I’m going to have to teach you how to be good for me” she growls, nipples getting even harder. “Spread your legs for me”, I spread my legs open, and she pushed my knees back so they’re near my collarbone.

Leah begins to run the tip of the strap through my wetness. “This is what happens when you’re bad baby” She pushed it in ever so slightly and I gasp. She pulls out “You get punished.” I wriggle my hands in the cuffs, desperately wanting to scratch her back. She grabs both of my hands with one of her own and throws my legs over her shoulders. She leans in to kiss me and stops just before our lips touch. She suddenly slams into me, pushing three-quarters of the strap in, allowing me to adjust. I moan so loud my throat hurts. She kisses me hard and starts to move in and out of me slowly. Once she finally fills me with the whole strap I scream and try to move my hands again. She begins to thrust harder, each time making all 7-inches disappear. “You like that baby?” she growls into my mouth. I don’t answer her, too hypnotised by the utter bliss of being filled completely. She brings her hand to my throat, “Answer me”.

“Yes, yes, I like that, fuck I love that”.

“Yes what, y/n?”

“Yes, ma’am” Yes! Fuck!” My legs begin to shake as Leah starts thrusting harder and harder, “Fuck I’m going to cum, please let me cum ma’am”.

“Do you think you deserve to cum? Have you been a good girl for me?” My legs start to shake uncontrollably, and I can hardly hold it in anymore,

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Please! I beg!”

“Cum for me baby, cum for me” she whispers in my ear and bites down harshly on my neck. Leah thrusts in hard a couple more times and I feel myself tighten, I begin to cum all over the strap, my wetness running down to the bedsheets.

“Fuck!” I scream. Leah slowly pulls out and my body shakes even more. She crawls up towards me until she’s hovering above my face.

“Clean it up” she groans. I slowly take the strap into my mouth and suck till it’s clean. Leah takes the strap off and collapses next to me.

“Fuck I’ve missed you” she whispers.

-

A/N: I hope this was okay! I wasn’t really sure which direction to take this but I tried. Definitely open to feedback in my comments, messages or asks 😊

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader 🖤 Summary: Damian’s fiancée receives a head injury during a match resulting in amnesia. (Part 3/5) 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 🛑 Warnings: Dirty thoughts 🖤 Taglist: In the comments. If you’d like to be added, please click here!  🖤 MASTERLIST

DAY TWO

“Can I please carry something?” you asked, watching Damian stack the duffel bags on the suitcases with rollers as he pulled them from the trunk. He smiled at you and shook his head. You weren’t sure you actually wanted to be responsible for anything other than getting yourself safely through the airport and aboard the plane, but you felt guilty—Damian had done everything for you up until now and would probably continue to do so for the foreseeable future.

“Hell, baby, if I could carry you—” He trailed off, glancing down at his shoulder before sliding his dark, mischievous eyes back to you.

“Don’t even think about it,” you scoffed.

Once Damian was confident he’d won the game of Luggage Jenga, the two of you entered the busy airport, and anxiety blasted through your veins, flash freezing everything in its wake. So many people hurrying about their lives, memories intact, trying to catch their respective rides home surrounded you, and you felt even smaller than you already were. Because you felt fear, your body reacted as if no head injury had ever occurred—you instantly reached out for Damian, gripping a flexed bicep as he tugged the suitcases behind him. He stopped, looking down at you, then your hand, and finally back at the luggage.

“Are you sure you can handle one of these?” he asked. You nodded quickly, and, whether he believed you or not, he reluctantly transferred the handle of your suitcase to your possession. He made certain you had a good grip, though he took your duffel bag from its place on your suitcase, packed it on top of his, and he looked at you. “You wanna do this how we normally do?” You nodded again, fingers squeezing the handle of the suitcase white-knuckle tight.

Damian placed a long, protective arm around your shoulders carefully, and you melted into his side, fitting perfectly, and your own arm snuck around his waist. He smelled so good, his body was warm and solid and big, and you understood why the two of you had such a physical relationship. His touch was electric, like a static discharge, but comforting, and you rested your head against his chest. The need for distance had long since been replaced by the need to be held and consoled and … loved, despite not reciprocating that love. The guilt only poured on. You hated what you had to be doing to Damian, but you selfishly needed him as close as possible if you were going to make it out of this airport alive. The big man sighed, pressing his face into the top of your head before kissing your hair.

“We don’t have to fly today,” he mumbled into your scalp. “We can wait if you’re not ready.”

You shook your head. “I wanna go home,” you determined.

Damian pulled away to look at you, smiling, nodding, and he kissed your forehead. “Me too,” he confessed.

The two of you meandered through the airport at your own pace, Damian having gotten you there with several hours to spare just in case. He held you closely to him, fighting the urge to cop a feel of your breast that was mere inches from his hand hanging over your shoulder, something he did almost on a daily basis, especially when you were in public because he loved to watch your squirm. Things were going swimmingly until Damian spotted the fans approaching, and he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, though it did nothing to soothe his raised hackles. Neither of you had ever minded interacting with fans—taking pictures, signing autographs, joining in bad-mouthing whoever you were feuding with—but now just wasn’t the time. And he’d ignorantly thought people would respect your need for distance and privacy considering your very public injury and your still—as of now—rumored diagnosis of amnesia.

“Just let me handle it,” Damian said to you once the small group of people noticed him and his giant frame, then you, and they immediately made a beeline toward you. “Don’t say anything.” His arm tightened around your shoulders, yours did the same around his waist, hand fisting the bottom of his t-shirt. “Listen, guys,” he said once the group was close enough to hear him, “I’ll sign some things for you, but just leave her alone, alright? She’s been through a lot.”

You watched as he scribbled his name on random items, and you thought maybe you should feel excited or flattered that the two of you were receiving this attention, but all you felt was tense and tired and nervous. You glanced in the direction of your gate, wondering how far you had left to walk, when Damian’s body suddenly became stock still. You looked at him, blazing fury in his eyes, and then your gaze fell to see what had upset him so—a glossy photo of you that had to have been snapped a mere millisecond after you’d begun to fall and before your head hit the floor had been presented to Damian for an autograph.

“Damian,” you said softly, your eyes still locked on the picture, but the unadulterated rage pulsing off the big man had you much more concerned. Your grip around his waist tightened.

“You think that’s funny?” Damian asked the man holding the picture, who shrugged and nodded. 

“I mean, it’ll probably be worth something if she never wrestles again,” the guy explained.

You gaped, tears pricking your eyes, but you didn’t quite know why. It was like your brain knew exactly what was going on, but it was playing keep-away with this vital information.

Damian dropped the Sharpie he’d been using to sign the autographs with before using that hand to shove the shorter man, who stumbled backward and eventually fell on his ass. The photo of you he’d been holding slid across the floor, and the other fans who had gathered erupted into gasps and murmurs. Damian’s arm was still around your shoulders, and you tugged at that hand and his waist, softly reminding him that you were there and close and the two of you had a plane to catch.

“Dude, you are so getting fired!” the guy on the floor hollered as he scrambled to his feet.

Damian lifted his arm from your shoulders to raise his middle finger as the two of you gathered your things and started toward your gate again. “Sit and spin, dickhead,” he tossed behind him. And then his mood changed, you could feel it in the ether between you. His focus shifted from the confrontation back to you, his arm securing itself around your shoulders, hugging you to his side, and while you weren’t quite comforted, you didn’t feel as destroyed as you had moments before.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, shaking his head. “That guy just—”

“Don’t apologize,” you interrupted, looking up at him. Damian’s expression was stony until you shrugged and said, “The dickhead had it coming.” He blinked at you a moment and then snorted, collapsing into giggles, and you had to join him, though your laugh was a lot less enthused considering your current situation and whether or not Damian was going to be fired over what he’d just done for you.

Damian led you the remainder of the way through the airport and to the correct gate, onto the plane, and he positioned you in front of him, his giant, clearly capable hands tenderly massaging your shoulders as he directed you to the correct row of seats. He gestured to the window seat, and you turned to him.

“You’re much bigger than I am,” you pointed out the obvious, “I should be the one to sit in the middle.”

Damian shook his head. “I bought the aisle seat, too, in case you didn’t wanna sit next to me,” he sheepishly explained, rubbing at the back of his neck and looking at every passenger but you. You could have made the argument that he’d been the one afraid to sit next to you when he’d booked the flight, but you did your best to ignore those intrusive thoughts.

You took the window seat that was offered, Damian packing your duffel bags into the storage bins above your heads before collapsing with a sigh into the middle seat. As much as you were prescribed sleep to heal, you felt like Damian needed it more than you. You knew he woke up in the middle of the night to check on you because, while it was mostly easy for you to fall asleep, it wasn’t as easy to stay that way. You wondered how long you’d both laid there silently—you pretending to sleep, Damian making sure you were still breathing and tucked in—trying not to burden the other. A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth—you were learning more and more about the man you were supposedly marrying in a few months, about the relationship you had, and all the fear and anxiety and worry and apprehension were finally beginning to melt away. Damian had been chipping away at all of it since the moment you woke up on the floor with not a clue in the world who the hell you were and he hadn’t stopped.

You turned to thank him for everything and for probably the millionth time, but your mouth ran dry and clamped closed, your heart pounding out of your chest like a damn cartoon. It was only a few inches, dwarfed in his hand—a stuffed dolphin with tiny black eyes that had seen better days. But your own eyes grew and continued to grow as you stared at it, slowly reaching out to touch it with the tips of your fingers. You recognized it. You recognized it! It was yours, you knew it for a damn fact, though you couldn’t remember when or where you’d gotten it, but none of that mattered because you recognized it. And not only that, you felt connected to it, you understood the importance of it in your life, and you knew, somehow, both you and Damian were tethered to this tiny stuffed dolphin.

“This is—” Damian began.

“Archie,” you finished in unison. Your eyes locked, and you heard his question without him having to ask it, so you simply shook your head in response—yes, you remembered Archie, no, you didn’t remember anything else. 

The weight of that thought—the one where you remembered a fucking stuffed dolphin and not your fiancé—promised to crush you. Your lip quivered, and you caught a quick glimpse of Damian’s pained expression before he pulled you to his chest.

“It’s alright,” he said, words muffled by the top of your head. “Come here. Put your legs like this.” You bent your knees, bringing your calves against your thighs, and he brought your arms around your legs. You then watched as he wrapped his own long arms around you, and you were enveloped in his warmth and love, your eyes closing, body relaxing, tears falling. “Sometimes this makes you feel better,” Damian said. You could understand why. “I think we have a few minutes before we take off … want me to tell you about Archie?” 

You nodded against his chest and listened closely to his hushed yet serene voice as he told you a beautiful story. He was taking you out of the country for vacation, he explained, and you’d been confident you’d be able to get on the plane and fly over water for the first time because what was really the difference between water and land when you’re traveling at roughly five hundred miles an hour at 30,000 feet? But while you were waiting to board, he could feel the fear radiating off you, so he’d volunteered to get you a cup of coffee. Upon returning, he’d given you the coffee and the tiny dolphin, which he’d glimpsed while passing one of many gift shops in the airport. You’d hugged the small stuffed animal to your chest, Damian remembered, smiling sweetly and thanking him. It was on that vacation, he said, that you’d confessed your love for one another, and later that evening, he’d taken you out to celebrate, complete with dinner on the beach, drinks, and a pod of dolphins frolicking in the distance.

“I think you said dolphins are our spirit animal, or something like that,” Damian chuckled, though he knew it was exactly what you’d said because he remembered every fucking detail of that vacation. He blinked and saw you say, I love you, Damian Priest. He swallowed, blinked again, and saw you gushing about the dolphins before turning and throwing your arms around his neck, saying, I’ll never forget this for the rest of my life. He shook his head, cleared his throat. “Anyway,” he sighed, ���you don’t travel without Archie.”

You sniffled, so engrossed in the story that you only now realized how truly decompressed you’d become, how safe you felt in Damian’s arms. He placed the dolphin against the back of your hand, which was gripping your own upper arm, and as soon as you felt its softness, your hand opened and closed around it. “Does Archie mean anything?” you quietly asked.

“Yeah,” Damian breathed a laugh. “You wanted to name him after me.” Your brows furrowed and you slowly lifted your head, Damian backing away so you could do so. At your confused expression, his handsome, friendly face morphed into a smug smirk and wicked eyes, and he said, “I’m the Archer of Infamy, baby.”

Upon landing in Florida, Damian gathered your things from the overhead storage bins and again let you walk in front of him as you deplaned. He continued to carry the bags, and you slipped your hand around one of his flexed forearms, the pad of your index finger tracing one of his protruding veins, because apparently that’s what you did now—reach out for him. Maybe it’s something you always did, and Damian didn’t seem to have a problem with it, but the action still made your stomach tight. Just like all the hugs and forehead kisses. You liked them, you were even starting to crave them, but these gestures were still coming from a stranger. Your body wanted all the time to be pressed against Damian’s, but your concussed brain wanted to keep at a you at a distance. 

At the baggage claim, Damian pulled his phone out, and you watched him read the caller ID before sighing and shaking his head. He raised the phone to his ear. “Yeah, boss?” He tried to sound upbeat and unbothered, but failed miserably. He cleared his throat and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, and he glanced at you, attempting a smile that also failed. “Yeah, no problem … Absolutely … Thanks, boss.” He hung up, tucked the phone into the back pocket of his jeans, and smiled at you once more. You waited for him to explain, and when he didn’t, you asked what the call had been about. Damian sighed. “A video of me pushing that guy is already all over the internet. So …”

“Are you fired?” you instantly jumped to the worst case scenario because, at this point, why wouldn’t you?

“No, I’m not fired,” Damian replied, reaching down to grab your suitcase off the carousel, followed by his own a few seconds later. You squeezed Archie, the softness helping to ease the tension. “I just have a meeting after the holidays. So it can’t be that bad, right?” He grinned, and he was so fucking beautiful and genuine, and how could you not believe him? How could your knees not weaken and your resolve not crumble? How could you not follow him blindly to the sleek red vehicle awaiting you in the long-term parking garage, climb inside after he opened the door for you, and allow him to drive you to a home he claimed you and he had purchased together?

It was a gorgeous home—one you didn’t remember and felt no connection to, but gorgeous just the same—and when you stepped inside? It was as if Christmas had literally thrown up all over the cozy house. Wreaths, hanging holiday pictures, several Christmas trees of varying sizes and designs, miniature Santa Clauses, poinsettias, and, of course, a tree at least nine feet tall in the corner of the living room, dressed exquisitely, surrounded by gifts wrapped in shimmering paper and bows.

“Yeah,” Damian said, joining you in taking in the scene before you, “my girl really likes Christmas.”

And apparently you still did, because while the decorations may have been this side of tacky, you absolutely loved it all. Everything sparkled or twinkled, or made you feel nostalgic, and you had no memory whatsoever of this place or its contents, but you knew it was home. You were home.

Damian left you alone to shower, and to occupy your mind from thinking about Damian in the shower, you examined nearly every individual decoration before you made your way over to a table full of nothing but framed photos. You, sitting behind Damian on a jet ski with your arms wrapped around him, smiles on your faces and tongues out. Damian, carrying you on his back up what looked like a hiking trail, again both with grinning faces. The two of you in the ring together, on opposite sides, looking at each other, sharing roguish smirks. A few professional photos complete with color-coordinated clothing and fall foliage. A very happy couple, plainly in love, but still, nothing jogged your disconnected memory, so you were about to find another room to investigate when you heard Damian clear his throat behind you. You jumped, spinning around, and he put his hands up.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. He wore a white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and a pair of dark-colored joggers. His long hair was wet, curly, and dripping onto his shoulders, and your gulp seemed to echo off every flat surface in the room.

You wondered what the normal you would do in this situation, because the broken you didn’t bother fighting the image of hopping into his arms and simply bouncing on his cock mid-air, in the middle of the living room, or the image of you sinking obediently and wantonly to your knees before him, worshipping him, forcing him to have to take another shower. Your hormones were suddenly out of control. You felt your face heating up, the burn scalding all the way down your neck. Was it possible your body was having withdrawals from all the sex the two of you had? Or could this be the way the man always made you feel? Did you have the same effect on him? Was he experiencing the same desire, just better at hiding it?

“Shower’s free,” he rumbled, chocolate eyes glittering, tossing a thumb over a broad shoulder. “I didn’t know if you—”

“Yep,” you interrupted, head down, making a beeline for the general direction Damian had headed on his way to the shower. 

“Uh, do you wanna know where everything is?” Damian called after you.

“I’m sure I’ll find it!”

You located everything you needed, moving faster than, well, than you remembered ever moving in your life, or what you could remember of your life—panties and a tank top and shorts that were super soft and incredibly thin (was this a subconscious choice you thought would give Damian a taste of his own medicine?) Disappearing inside the apartment-sized bathroom, you turned the shower on, the temperature as hot as you could stand, and you stood below the waterfall, eyes closed, and you were able to zone out completely—no Damian, no injury, no amnesia—allowing the water to wash away the past couple of days. You visualized everything negative and stressful and overwhelming and scary swirling down the drain at your feet, hopefully gone or healed forever, or at least temporarily.

You washed, scrubbed, and even shaved before reluctantly exiting the comforting warmth of the shower. While drying and standing in front of the gilded mirror—one or the both of you had expensive taste, that was for sure—you did a double take upon spotting a smudge near your shoulder. Leaning closer to the mirror for a better look, you realized there was a small tattoo along your collarbone. You narrowed your eyes, trying to read the words through the reflection until you noticed you had no chance of figuring them out—the script was in Spanish, and you could only guess that it had something to do with Damian. 

“Yeah,” he answered fondly. He reached up to touch the ink, hesitated, and when he was sure you wouldn’t run away, his thumb caressed your skin. “It says el campeón. It was my nickname when I was the champion.” You shivered and your skin tingled where he was touching you. His hair was now up in a bun, the shoulders of his shirt drying.

“So where’s my tattoo?” you asked, expecting a laugh. 

Instead, Damian straightened a colorful, sinewy arm, turned it over, and pointed at his wrist. “La  ladrona,”  he growled. Your thighs clenched. “The thief.”

You looked at the script that matched your own tattoo. “… because I stole your heart?”

He guffawed. “Because you stole—”

“Oh, my god,” you whined at the tooth decaying sweetness that evidently was your relationship with this devilishly sexy man. 

The plane had arrived late, and neither you nor Damian felt much more than exhaustion—aside from your raging hormones—so you decided to head to bed early. Still on the path to normality, you again wanted to sleep however you normally slept together, and your fiancé was only too eager to accommodate. You figured out why when he explained that the easiest way for you to fall asleep was for you to cuddle into his side, head on his chest, arm around his waist, while his hand gave you what he referred to as booty rubs. He was perfectly fine simply holding you if that’s what you wanted, but who were you to turn down booty rubs from Damian Priest when that might be the very action that triggered your memories?

You could see how the booty rubs might be considered sexual, but right now, you felt sedated. Soft touches from his deft fingers over both your cheeks through the thin shorts were enough to put you to sleep within minutes, snoring gently against Damian’s chest. He kissed the top of your head, eyes closed and smiling. The TV playing a Christmas movie in the background was turned off, and he worried he woke you when you shifted, but you only lifted a leg over his, somehow pressing yourself closer. For a moment, a brief, fleeting moment, everything was normal.

[noroi1000]

can i order something satosugu with a girlfriend who is very air-headed and incredibly strong, as if she is a special grade sorceress, but despite her strength, she is very affectionate with her boyfriends

Strength is not everything

SatoSugu x reader

Summary: You are not strong without them. Despite being a special grade sorcerer. You are weak without them. Without them, your strength is meaningless.

"What are you doing there?"

You looked at your boyfriends who were standing in the bedroom doorway staring at you.

"You were supposed to leave... Did something happen?" Suguru asked you, watching your face.

You were going abroad.

Because according to the superiors, it doesn't make sense that three special grade sorcerers are in Japan, in the same place in Tokyo.

While Okkotsu and Tsukumo were traveling around the world, you were in Japan. And sometimes you just went on missions abroad. But then you went home.

However, you were to leave for Europe forever. To take over missions there. So that there are not so many powerful sorcerers in Japan.

You were supposed to fly there today.

They took you on the last stationary date before you left.

Because once you leave, you'll never live with them again. The only contact you will have with them is the Internet.

Nothing more...

That's why you were sad...

You were a very confident person. Your superiors didn't like you because you were too brazen with your strength.

You thought they wanted to get rid of you.

And it hurt you that they hate you so much that they want you to leave the country.

Once you're gone, the only time you'll be able to meet them live is when you're in Europe, and so are they.

However, neither they nor you can take a long leave of absence. Because they can't do it without you...

That's why your life was bad in that sense.

You didn't have much free time. The Missions and Teaching of Students...

If you were to leave, you'd lose a part of you...

You couldn't smile without them.

You're really attached to them... You can't live without them.

Would you just go away and leave them?

You don't want to live a life where you have them far away from you.

It would be the most painful time for you and them.

You've been with them all day. All night. To give them one last evening with you.

Without them, it doesn't matter how strong you are...

You cried in the night knowing it was the last time you could cuddle with them for so long.

You cried when you didn't want to let them go at the airport.

You cried when you knew what you had with them would never happen again. Because you'll have to have a different life.

But how were you supposed to give up loving them? How could you stop wanting to live without them? How

How?

You couldn't. You're too used to their presence.

You're too used to them being there all the time.

You loved them too much.

You couldn't live without them in another country. On another continent. It pained you to know that you would be alone in your new home. And they won't come home from work to lie down next to you.

You will never live in Japan again. You will never live the way you used to live.

Since your home will be in another country...

Maybe you were brazen with your strength... But when it came to them, you were so weak with them...

They were stronger than you. It is obvious. But you were still strong.

And their presence made you even stronger...

How could you just give up your happiness because others told you to...?

Would you rather have them than this strength...

You preferred to have their love forever ... And not to sit in another country and see them only via the Internet.

You want skin to skin contact. With them. You don't want to sleep alone in bed.

You want to sleep in your big bed where the three of you sleep.

Because of this bond with them. Because of this attachment. You wouldn't be able to live normally without them.

Before you got on the plane, you ran out of there.

You escaped and returned home on your own.

So that later when they come home they see you on your bed with tears on your cheeks.

You pulled them both to you, not caring that they both fell on top of you, crushing you on the bed.

You cried holding their bodies.

"Baby-." Satoru started. But before he could finish, you started sobbing the words into their bodies.

"I do not want! I do not want to leave! I want to stay with you!" you moaned.

You were so strong. But they're so weak. So weak without them.

You couldn't be strong when you were taken from them.

You could never be powerful when you were separated from them.

It was such a cruel and horrible feeling... But it was real.

Every strong man has his weakness.

They are your weakness.

Because without them you can't be strong...

"You don't have to leave if you don't want to..." said the White Haired Man as they climbed off of you, laying on either side of you.

They wiped your tears.

"You never have to leave us. You know very well that we love you."

You smiled slightly at their words.

So nice and comforting.

You are so strong. But without them you can't use your strength.

You've become too attached to them to leave now. Nothing would be the same without them.

That's why you want to stay forever with the two men you love so much.

"If I was without you, my strength doesn't matter."

[doomed-syko]

Right Back Where We Started From | Robert Keating x Fem!reader

summary: Flying home for Christmas seemed like a great idea until you’re snowed in and stuck on an icy runway… for the foreseeable future. Even worse? The person in the seat next to you is the guy who broke your heart a year ago

word count: 3.5k

warnings: angsty, exes to lovers (kinda), fluff, swearing, mention of alcohol, my bad writing as always, the usual really

author’s note: i have returned to my roots and am back with a robert christmas fic, everyone rejoice. this time a bit different. as you can tell, i’ve rewatched normal people while writing this – to all my robert keating and paul mescal enjoyers, this one is for you x

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”        

You hadn’t thought it would be possible, but your already bad day had just gotten worse somehow, which was kind of an achievement in itself.

It was bad enough that you had slept through your alarm this morning and had rushed into work over an hour late (the sudden onset of winter and heavy snowfall delaying your arrival even longer), which was followed by your suitcase breaking as you were about to leave your flat for Heathrow and you had to quickly find something to repair the broken zipper with. The bad luck didn't end there of course. When you did finally make it to the airport - ten minutes before check-in for your flight closed - you almost got run over by some busy businessman who didn't look where he was going and, in the process, rammed his metal suitcase against your knee, which had been pulsating and in pain ever since. Your flight being delayed by an hour and twenty minutes was truly only the cherry on top.

But even then, none of those things could compare to the mixture of feelings you felt bubbling up inside you when you realized who had just sat down in the seat right next to you and who was about to sit right next to you for the next hour and a half or so.

None other than your bassist ex-boyfriend whose band was almost everywhere these days. Of course, it had to be Robert Keating.

For a few seconds, you thought about the best way to approach this whole thing. Ignore him and pretend he wasn’t there? Put on a happy face and try to be nice to him? Even though the mere thought of your breakup still made your heart ache and sting every time you thought about it, thought about him. None of those seemed like good ideas.

Before either of you could decide how to approach this awkwardness, a decision was made for you. In the form of the voice of a flight attendant over the intercom system.

“Welcome on board British Airways flight BA 838 to Dublin Airport, due to the heavy snowfall and an icy runway, our start is delayed by at least thirty minutes,” a murmur went through the crowd. “Our cabin crew will be coming around, handing out free drinks and snacks, we apologize profusely for the delay!”

You must’ve really pissed off someone in your last life because there was no way this was real life. How could literally everything possibly go wrong in one single day?

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Robert echoed your words from earlier, the absurdity of it all was the last straw for you and you started uncontrollably giggling to yourself.

“You seem to be in a good mood.” Rob sighed and you knew without looking at him that his face was pulled into a grimace. It was safe to say that he was not having fun right now.

“Oh, believe me,” you stopped chuckling and turned your attention to your former lover, who did indeed look like he wanted to be anywhere but stuck on an icy tarmac right about now. “I’ve actually had one of the worst days of my life today.” You shrugged your shoulders. “At this point, I’ve just stopped trying to make any sense of it.”

Before you knew it you told him about everything that had gone wrong for you up until that point. Broke suitcase and all.

You even showed him your knee that had been massacred by that man and his heavy suitcase and realised that it actually had started bleeding. No wonder it kept pulsating with pain.

Those damn businessmen and their way too expensive, way too heavy metal suitcases

“I feel like I've been talking your ear off for way too long now,” you smiled awkwardly. Seems like 'put on a happy face and try to be nice' was the plan you had chosen. “Now tell me, why are you in London on the 22nd? Shouldn’t you be already home with the family?”

You hated that you still knew what he and his family did every Christmas. You hated that you still knew a lot about him actually.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rob replied. And just like that, operation 'put on a happy face and try to be nice' was fucked. “We had a label meeting a few days ago, with the big boss,” He joked. Looked like you didn’t mess up your chances of keeping this civil after all. “The lads all flew home on Wednesday, but I needed a day just for myself, to decompress or something like that… It has been a long year you know? So much has happened in the last twelve months, and I’ve had almost no days for just myself.”

“Yeah, busy year,” you acknowledged. You couldn’t escape the band anymore; they were everywhere these days. And as much as it hurt to see or hear about him everywhere you went; it made you happy to see them doing so well.

You were about to say something when the voice of the flight attendant from earlier came over the intercom again, this time informing you that due to the weather, your delay would continue but that you had to stay on the plane for safety reasons. At this point, you wondered if you would even make it to Dublin before Christmas… maybe you just had to spend Christmas in London alone, so the bad luck that seemed to follow you around could not rub off on anyone else.

At least the cabin crew would – once again – make their rounds and hand out free drinks, food, and some blankets.

Realizing that you hadn’t registered how cold it actually was on the plane, you made sure to profusely thank the brunette flight attendant, who handed you one of the British Airways branded blue fleece blankets, wrapping it around your upper body and legs you had pulled up on the seat after taking your shoes off. There was no way you were going to be (physically) uncomfortable today.

You turned your attention back to Rob, only to see him already looking at you. Actually looking at you and not the 'barely holding eye contact' thing he had done earlier, now he was staring at you, his eyes rapidly moving like he had forgotten what you looked like and was now trying to commit every part of you to his memory.

It made that mixture of feelings you had felt bubbling up inside you when you had first seen him earlier, return. Just this time, the feelings of butterflies in your stomach, that you always used to get whenever you had looked at him, were more prominent than any other feeling.

Fuck… great work! Thirty-five minutes spent next to your ex and boom… you were right back to feeling head over heels for him.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of you knowing what to say now, because what do you talk about with your ex-partner when you didn’t plan to see them never mind being stuck in an airplane that could not take off due to the sudden onset of winter. No one had ever written a handbook of how to act if you were ever stuck in a situation like this. No one. Especially not on how to act when you are actually still very much in love with said former partner, making the doubts you had always had about you going your separate ways, appear even greater.

The breakup had been mutual. You both barely had time for each other anymore and at that point in time it had seemed like the only reasonable decision to make. You had finished university that summer, he was practically always on tour or in the studio and when you had gotten that job offer for your current job in London you realized that things would only get harder from there on out. So, you moved to London, Robert stayed in Dublin – when he was not on tour – and then you broke up.

Of course, you had promised to stay in touch, to stay friends but you both knew that that was not happening. You couldn’t stay friends with him, not when you were still head over heels in love with him.

That’s why the breakup still hurt, even though you had not been with him in well over a year. You had tried to move on, had hooked up with a few people here and there, had gone out on the dates your new friends had set you up on but no one made you feel the way he did, so you gave up trying and slowly came to terms with the fact that you would maybe never be as in love again as you had been when you were twenty.

You sighed, trying to shake your thoughts as you fished your phone out of your jeans pocket.

20:21

Even with the initial hour and twenty minutes delay of the flight, you should’ve been long in the air by now, scratch that you should be more than halfway to Dublin by now. You sighed again, before typing out a message to your mother, telling her that you were still in Heathrow and didn’t know when you'd be home. Her answer came quickly, reassuring you that she would be there to pick you up from the airport when you landed, whenever that may be.

Putting your phone away you turned your attention back on Rob, who seemed to be so deep in his own thoughts, that even though he was looking at you, he was more looking through you.

“Are you alright?” You sounded more concerned than you were.

“Yeah yeah, I’m all right. Just a bit tired,” He smiled at you. “It's just– you know… I have missed you. A lot.”

Oh.

“I’ve been for a while actually,” He chuckled awkwardly. “The last year has been one of the strangest of my life. The juxtaposition of all the success with the lads, all the sold-out shows, festivals… all the fun and good stuff that has happened and then missing you all the time, missing us. It is a lot.”

Robert’s admission hit you like a ton of bricks. Holy fucking shit.

“Don’t say that.” Your voice was breaking. Why was your voice breaking?

“No, I mean it,” Rob's voice wasn’t steady, but he continued, reaching for your hands, and giving them a gentle squeeze. It was the first time he touched you that evening, leaving your skin feeling like it was on fire everywhere his met yours.

“No, you don’t get to say that shit after I spent over a year being heartbroken.” Your emotions were running wild now. “Not after I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably never love anyone like I love you.”

There it was. Your confession. Out in the open.

“We both decided it was for the better to call things off,” Robert cringed at the words. But he was right, it had been a mutual decision. “You can’t put all the blame on me… if I had known how difficult this would be I would’ve never done it.” You could tell he was getting worked up over this, but you could not blame him for that. You weren’t doing any better really. “I would’ve moved to this damn city for you!”

“Don’t say that.” There it was again. “Robert, you would have hated it here. You would have been away from the lads, you would have had to commute between London and Dublin all the fucking time,” you tried to keep your voice as low as possible, which proved to be difficult the longer this went on. “That’s no way to live, baby. We would have been miserable.”

He was silent for a while, his hands still holding onto yours as if you were the anchor keeping him grounded but he wasn’t looking at you anymore. Now you squeezed his hands.

“Bobby there is no use in pretending you wouldn’t have been absolutely fucking miserable here,” You sniffled trying not to cry. “I would not have had time for you, and you would not have had time for me. We would have lived two separate times, believe me, we would have resented each other after a few months.”

“Still,” he tried to argue. “I’ve been pretty fucking miserable this year without you too.” He was finally looking at you again, his eyes slightly glassed over.

You didn’t know what to say to that and before you could think of something, the intercom turned on again.

“Good evening, my name is Richard Jones, I’ll be your Captain tonight and I am happy to report that we’ve finally got cleared to take off.” Finally. “We will be making our way onto the tarmac in about ten minutes. Since we are obviously not the only plane waiting to take off, we will have to wait for a little bit longer, but we should be in the air in the next thirty minutes or so. We, again, apologise for the delay, if you have any more questions our cabin crew will be happy to answer them. We thank you for your patience!”

You felt like a weight was finally being taken off your shoulders. A weight you had carried around with yourself for almost a year now.

You got your phone out again, sending another text to your Mum telling her that you were finally about to take off and actually get home for Christmas. And then… then you took a deep breath turning your attention back to Robert.

Okay, here goes nothing.

“Well since we are sharing,” you smiled at him, still holding his hands. “I’ve missed you too. A lot!”

Before he could answer you, you got interrupted once again.

“Is there anything I can get either of you?” The brunette flight attendant from earlier smiled at you. “Any drinks? Food?”

“Yeah actually,” you turned your attention from Rob to the brunette woman. “Could we get two red wines and a pack of salt crisps? Thank you so much!”

You took the two wines and crisps, setting one of the wines down in front of Robert.

“I think we have a lot to talk about,” You grinned at him, who would have thought this day would end like this? You certainly didn’t. “Cheers!”

The both of you talked a lot. About everything that had happened since your breakup, about how much you missed each other, about your job and the band.

You told him how proud you were of him and the lads, that even though it had hurt to see them everywhere, your happiness for their success outweighed the heartbreak of – at the time – knowing that you would probably never get to tell them that in the way you had done for years before. That you missed your friends in Dublin but that your new job and friends in London were great. How much you had fallen in love with this city. And how much you hated not at least trying to stay in contact with Eli or Josh.

In turn, he told you about how much he loved touring, how he and the lads had grown even closer, how crazy eventful this year had been and how glad he was that they were taking a little break. Taking things slow but already working on album number three.

You talked about your confessions from earlier. That you both were obviously miserable without each other, that you still loved each other greatly and what it meant for you going forward.

With your head on his shoulder, you talked for the whole flight, in hushed whispers, laughing every now and again.

And if the confessions had taken a heavy weight off your shoulder earlier, this – the hushed talking, the little giggles, and the handholding – made you feel weightless. Made you feel like you were on top of the world again. All because the man you loved was still in love with you.

You were holding hands when you finally walked out of the airplane at 22:25. Finally back home in Dublin you thought. And you continued to do so when you waited to pick up your baggage, which of course took another fifteen minutes but at this point, what were those extra fifteen minutes? If anything, it was more time with Robert which you gladly accepted.

“Is anyone here to pick you up?” You looked up at Rob, while you were still waiting for your broken suitcase, to arrive on the baggage conveyor belt.

“Sent a message to my Ma while we were getting ready to land,” He answered. “Is that your bag?” He asked pointing to the black suitcase, which was indeed yours. “She should be here by now and if not, I’ll just have to wait a few minutes,” he grabbed your suitcase, grabbing your hand again and interlocking your fingers. “Your Mum is picking you up, right?”

“Hmm,” you hummed as you walked through the automatic doors. “There she is actually.” Your pace got faster after you spotted her in between the dozens of other people who were waiting for their loved ones to finally arrive. “C’mon.”

You felt your fingers slip out of Robert's hand a few meters before you reached your mother, practically running into her open arms. Only once you were back in your mother’s arms did you realize how tired you actually were.

“Oh my god I’ve missed you so much,” you sighed. “I don’t think I have ever been this happy to be back home.

“Oh, it is so good to have you back, sweetheart!” Your mother replied kissing your cheek before spotting Rob who had given your little reunion some space. “Robert it's good to see you again darling.”

She pulled him into her arms, just like she had done with you earlier but not before side-eying you. This was going to be fun to explain later.

“Okay let’s get you home,” your mother sighed, grabbing your suitcase. “Is there anyone to pick you up, Robert?”

“Yeah, my Mums on her way,” he smiled down at her. “I’ll wait outside for her; don’t worry she'll be here in a few minutes.”

The three of you walked through the airport, towards the car park, your mother in the front with your suitcase, Robert, and you behind her with the rest of your baggage.

“I’ll get the car,” Your mother said when you stepped outside, the cool air blowing through your hair. “You wait here I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Before you could answer her, she was already gone, leaving you and Robert alone. Smart woman, you thought to yourself.

You turned your attention back to Robert, smiling brightly, before resting your head against his chest. You stood in silence, the chilly wind still blowing through your hair. You did not feel the need to say something. Everything you needed to get off your chest you had talked about with Robert. You would rather just stay where you were right now, in his arms and pressed against his chest just like you had done a hundred times before.

“I’ll see you in January,” he smiled, carefully grabbing your face, and pulling it from his chest to look at you. “Right?”

“Yeah,” you hummed, hearing the honking of a car, and turning around to see your mother waiting for you. “I’ll keep my bed warm for you!” You chuckled, leaning into his touch. “I promise.”

“I’ll know you will love,” Robert grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” another kiss. This time his lips landed on your right temple, right next to your eye. “I love you!”

The last kiss he pressed to the tip of your nose. Just like he had done on your first date, years ago.

“I love you.” You replied, kissing the skin right below his chin, before nuzzling your nose into his neck. It was crazy how fast you fell into old patterns.

Your mother honked again, which you took as your sign to let go of Robert and get into the car. Before leaving his warm embrace, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, his skin still feeling warm beneath your lips.

You walked to the car, put your backpack on the backseat and before she could even ask you answered the question you knew she was dying to ask you.

“It’s a long story.”

note: if you liked this imagine, don’t forget to like, comment and/or reblog, that’d be greatly appreciated! xx

taglist: (if you’d like to be tagged please let me know!) @tractorbeamofwoe @1twontalwaysbelikethiss @vanmccannsfridge

[rosewaterandivy]

twice as many stars - I. entanglement

Summary: Steve Harrington is man who has nothing but time. No, really. Leaving nothing except a vague note, his daughter slips into the past with only a familiar token for an anchor. His busted watch gives him a hint as to the when and where of it all, but does little to calm his nerves.

Or

In order to piece together the present, you have to rewrite the past.

W.C.: 3k

Notes: hi, yes, hello, i am, once again, back on my bullshit. i have no one to blame but myself for this and my predilection for pondering the nature of time and grief and memory. which, if you know me, is not at all surprising!

series m.list | playlist | next

Steve Harrington is 55 years old when you give them the slip. Wakes one morning to the shrill sound of the telephone, the frantic sounds of your roommate saying that she hasn’t seen you in days, and, quite frankly, she’s getting worried.

He talks her down as best he can, maybe you got lost in your work again, or were living in the lab until the end of the semester. These things had happened before, it wasn’t out of the ordinary.

Ending the call with a promise to get in touch as soon as he knew anything, Steve rolls over to paw at the nightstand in search of his watch and glasses. Slipping on the wire frames, he peers down at the face of the watch, its hands ticking along in an orderly fashion.

7:31 A.M. December 14th, 2012.

You’d talked recently, a call a few days prior to check in. You were working on your masters now, an accelerated course that would funnel you into a PhD in Physics. You were busy, like always, and had already purchased your ticket home for the holidays.

“Don’t forget,” You’d reminded him, before saying your goodbyes, “You’re getting me from the airport.”

He laughed and made a note on the calendar stuck to the fridge.

“As if I could,” He replied, smiling at the prospect of your homecoming. “Y’know, I’m not that useless on my own.”

You sighed, voice softening.

“I know, I just worry.”

He could see the minute shrug of your shoulders, would be shocked if you weren’t replicating that same gesture now hundreds of miles away.

Presently, Steve sighs and sets the watch back on the nightstand. He reluctantly rises from the bed, mentally calculating how he’s going to broach the topic of your absence.

The holidays creep closer and closer and though Steve has a general idea of what you’d gotten up to, the possible where and when, he doubts that you’ll be home for Christmas.

Shakes loose the errant thought that maybe you wouldn’t be home at all as the cold water from the shower hits his skin.

He has faith, he’s always had faith in you, even when you were a precocious kid more concerned with the why and how of things. And he’d only panicked briefly the first time you’d slid.

Nance and Rob were unloading groceries as Steve hefted you through the door, snow melting off your blue boots as you hung onto his arm as if he were a jungle gym.

“Well if it isn’t our intrepid explorers!” Nance crowed, crouching down for a hug as you toddled over. “What did we discover today?”

You babbled something about the swings and flying while Steve toed off his boots and helped Robin start on making dinner.

Nancy ooh and ahhed at all the right parts of your long winded story of an afternoon at the park. She let you lead her around the kitchen by the hand, puddles of melted snow in your wake, until—

“Oh my god,” Nancy gasped, her blue eyes wide, “Where’d she go?!”

And, sure enough, you weren’t there, had just left puddles of water where your feet had previously been.

“What the fuck?” Robin squeaks.

Steve feels the goosebumps erupt on his skin, can sense that something’s amiss as he grabs his keys and makes for the back door.

The Silverado starts up quickly, the engine still warm, as he backs out of the drive. He hasn’t a clue where he’s headed, just knows he has to find you. Starts mentally running through a description in case he needs to give one to the cops.

Blue snow boots and a matching coat. Three going on four years old. Brown hair, hazel eyes—

He’s driving past the park when he sees it.

A small child struggling to get on the swings by herself.

He slams on the brakes in the middle of the street, throws on the hazards, and books it from the cab of the truck, door swinging wide open.

Steve’s sock-clad feet sink into the snow, the crystalline crust cracking around sodden cotton as he runs. He supposes shoes would’ve been helpful, but he can’t say he was really in his right mind when he’d left the house.

Reaching the swing-set, he takes in huge gulps of air attempting to quell his racing heart.

“Hi Daddy,” You say with a toddler’s glee, “Go high now?”

A wild laugh erupts from his lips, because you’re there, safe and sound, only seven blocks from where you’re supposed to be. There’s another family making for the swings now, so he scoops you up with one arm and squeezes you tight.

“Tomorrow honey,” He promises, carrying you back to the idling truck, “We’ll be back then.”

Driving back to the house, Steve’s mildly aware of the clock on the dashboard vacillating between several different combinations of time, much like sifting through static on the radio. Makes a note to figure it out later, more content to flick his eyes to the rear view mirror and find you passed out in the car seat.

They’d figure this out— Rob, Nace, and him, there would be time enough.

But now, he’s not so sure.

A slide is one thing, you’d just pop up somewhere else and eventually make your way back home. But a slip, however—

The first time you slipped, Steve definitely lost his shit.

He’d tucked you in and read the story of an old house in Paris that was covered in vines with the twelve little girls in two straight lines until he was blue in the face.

It took more effort than usual because you weren’t feeling well. Earlier that evening, you’d told them you were feeling tilty which Steve took to mean nauseous. Nevertheless he’d taken your temperature and put you to bed.

“Good night honey,” He’d said with a kiss to your brow, “Love you.”

“Night Daddy,” You’d chirped from beneath your covers, “Tell Mama and Mommy too.”

He promised he would, and turned out the light. The soft yellow glow from your night light seeped into the hallway from where he’d left the door cracked.

The next morning Rob was on wake-up duty while he and Nance made breakfast.

“She sleep through the night?”

Steve nodded, swallowing a mouthful of coffee. “Not a peep, no fever either.”

“Huh,” She sighs, taking a seat. “Wonder what it could’ve been.”

And before she can take a bite of her toast, there’s a shout from upstairs, quickly followed by the thudding of feet as Robin rushes into the kitchen.

“She’s gone, and the sheets are cold.”

They’re up and running before he can rightly think.

The bedroom window is latched shut, and no shoes are missing. There was no note or sign of forced entry.

Steve’s heart is racing in his chest, knocking frantically against the ladder of his ribs because he hasn’t the foggiest idea of where you could be.

After the incident with the park, they’d decided as a family to give you tools to cope, strategies to employ. To let one of them know when you felt like a slide was coming on, to focus on the sensations around you when you felt twisty.

Robin had read books cover to cover and had exhausted several notebooks in documenting grounding techniques. And they worked, you were able to stop yourself from sliding generally, with enough practice.

It didn’t happen at school, though you did have to be picked up from the nurse's office a few times before eventually sliding to the local library or park. Only places you’d been before and never far from home.

“Steve,” Nancy said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He jumped despite the warning, and found himself desperately hoping for a sign— something, anything to tell him where you’d gone.

The daycare is called, as far as they know, you’re home with a 24 hour bug. Robin initiates the phone tree, it’s spring break, so the more feet on the ground, the better.

Dustin rushes over as soon as he gets the call. Familiar with your unique talents, he’s not so obviously concerned until he gets a look at Steve.

“You gotta stop misplacing my goddaughter, man,” He quips with a smile.

No response.

He steps over to the couch where Steve has his head in his hands.

“Hey, it’ll be—“

“It’s not a slide.” Steve grates out through clenched teeth, “I don’t know what the fuck this is.”

Dustin rubs a careful hand along his back, listening and observing.

Steve had somehow gotten it together enough to shower and get dressed for the day. Though he wasn’t exactly wearing his finest— his watch didn’t even work.

In fact, the face of it was cracked, glass rivened with white veins nearly obscuring the hands of the watch. It was an old one, something from that apocalyptic spring that he’d never managed to shake.

Dustin knew the watch hadn’t worked since ‘86, which is why it was all the more startling when it began to tick.

“Uh, Steve?”

“What?”

“Any reason that watch suddenly wants to work?”

Steve shook his head, dropping his hands as he faced Dustin.

“The fuck are you taking about?”

He raises his hands in surrender, “Don’t shoot the messenger, I’m just saying—” He nods toward Steve’s wrist.

Where, sure enough, the watch was steadily ticking away. The hands were accurate, even if the date wasn’t, perpetually stuck on Thursday, March 27, 1986.

The realization is a cold shock down his spine.

There’s no way. They’d been so careful about making the stories of his scars kid-friendly, and hadn’t thought twice about mentioning—

It’s a warm spring afternoon when they find you.

Still clad in your Rugrats pajamas and standing at a grave. One hand is clasped tightly at your side, while the other curiously traces the carved letters on the tombstone.

Robin reaches you first, lithe limbs gathering you up in her grasp to settle you against her chest. You giggle as she peppers you with kisses, not knowing anything’s amiss.

“Hello precious one,” She greets, resting her chin against your hair. “Whatcha up to?”

Nancy and Steve soon follow, the latter having to be led because he’s crying so much he can’t see through his tears. They fall to heap around you, hugging you tight in their arms.

You end up in his lap, still staring curiously at the etched polished stone. Nancy cautiously asks a few questions in an attempt to discern what happened. Too entranced with the words in front of you, your answers are less than illuminating.

She eventually begs off after several pointed glares from Steve and a few jabs to the side from Robin.

They’d figure it out, they always did.

“Honey,” Steve says, noting the clenched hand at your side. “What’s this?”

He taps your small fist, coaxing the fingers open only to reveal a ring. He takes it from your hand, eyeing the silver band and dark stone. It feels familiar, though he can’t say why.

You scuttle from his arms, stepping on his legs with all the oblivious grace of a toddler, as you see Dustin walking up.

“Dusty!”

He catches you deftly, arms reaching out to reveal the bats he’d gotten inked a few years prior. He swings you up in his arms, crowing something about your Houdini-esque escape.

A few things become abundantly clear to Steve as everyone rises from the grass and heads toward home.

He thinks it’s no coincidence you come back with a token of sorts, this ring. Nor is it happenstance that his watch has now stopped ticking. But the real kicker is that they found you at this particular grave on this specific date.

Eddie Munson, surely, had something to do with this.

Steve says as much later in the evening. His voice is soft as you’d fallen asleep on the couch, head resting on his leg, and he hadn’t the heart to let you out of his sight just yet.

“You think she, what, travelled back in time?” Nancy asks, setting down her glass of wine.

“She can already— shit, what’s it called?”

“Teleport,” Dustin supplies, coming in from the kitchen. “It’s the technical term for what you all refer to as a slide.”

Robin nods, snuggling against Nancy in the oversized chair next to the couch.

“Is that possible?”

He shrugs, “Doesn’t matter, she’s already proving that it is.”

Steve brushes his fingers through your hair. It’s taking on more of his color now, and its unfortunate refusal to behave. The Harrington curse, Robin had joked. You sigh softly in your sleep, nose scrunching minutely as the conversation continues.

“So if a slide refers to place, what are we calling what just happened? That, assuming we’re correct and she went back to the 80s, it’s now both place and time.”

And well, Nance isn’t wrong.

Dustin nods and takes a sip from his beer. “You said she felt, what twisty, tilty?”

“Twisty is for a slip, tilty was new,” Steve supplies. “Should’ve known something was up when she said it.”

“Hey, no,” Robin says in a warning tone, “You couldn’t have known Steve, this isn’t on you.”

Nice as it may be, it doesn’t quell the shame roiling in his gut. He’s your father, of course he should have known.

Much like he should know now, as he ponders over how best to break the news to Robin and Nancy. Wonders if he can wait it out in the hope that you’ll get back before they arrive. Maybe it’d be better to talk to Dustin first? He was closer to campus after all, could check things out and see if you’d left any clues behind.

Steve shakes his head, knows you’ve gotten far too good to leave anything behind. If you’re gone, then it was something planned in meticulous detail. Hell, you probably hadn’t wanted them to know you’d slipped in the first place.

He pulls on an old MIT sweatshirt, loose collared and bleached to hell from your days learning how to do laundry. Tugs on some jeans and toes on his loafers— comfortable house clothes since he wouldn’t be going anywhere today.

He pauses at his dresser, transfixed by the picture from your college graduation. Mortar board nearly falling off your head and everyone crammed into frame. Steve and Robin hugging you tight, Nancy’s arms thrown over your collar as she stood on tip toes behind you. Dustin had snapped the photo and Steve wasn’t even looking at the camera because he was too busy being so goddamn proud of you.

Youngest graduate in the history of the department, not even old enough to drink and had graduated summa cum laude. Steve didn’t understand it, not like Dustin did, the hold that science and mathematics had on you, the wonders they possessed. But he always had a hunch it had something to do with your ability to slip.

He’d asked about it once, when you were home for the summer, culling through data sets from your latest experiment.

“It’s like, y’know how some people can see colors when they hear music?”

Steve had smiled and leaned against your door frame.

“Yeah, had a friend who could do that once.”

You’d smiled then, and laughed.

“Me too.” You swiveled in your chair, turning from the desk. “So, it’s like that but I can see and hear these threads of time all around me.”

“You can hear them?”

You nodded, “When you pluck a string on a guitar and it vibrates with sound?”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s like that.” Your eyes focused on something to your left, a dreamy look falling on your face. “It’s beautiful, it’s a symphony.”

And he’d left it at that. Like most things in his life, he knew it was something he’d never truly understand. But he’d made his peace with that a long time ago.

Now though, he had to wonder if that was for the best. If they’d done right by encouraging you in this way.

Of course, they all had their theories. Dustin was convinced it had something to do with repeated exposure to the Upside Down. Robin chalked it up to a blip from the universe. Nancy had to be talked down from intervening with a child psychiatrist with a visit from El.

But Steve never really gave it much thought. He’d always wanted to be a dad and considered himself the luckiest bastard to end up with a kid like you. Out of the three of them, he was much more attuned with your wants and needs growing up. Grew comfortable and confident in relying on his instincts when it came to you.

He’d never experienced anything so rewarding in his entire life, and he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth and see your abilities as something to correct. And hoped he was doing the right thing by you in doing so.

Steve goes to put on his watch, the one you’d gifted him several Christmases ago, and stops before he can fasten the band to his wrist. He pulls the drawer of the nightstand open hastily, hand groping blindly for worn and cracked leather, a cool brush of metal.

Prizing the broken watch in his fingers, his heart plummets to his stomach as he hears the soft ticking of its hands. He sets it down gently on the tabletop and rummages around for a circlet of silver and onyx.

He comes up empty handed, of course he does. Stumbling back, he catches himself against the bed and fumbles for the phone. Before he can start dialing, the damn thing rings in his hand, illuminating Dustin’s name.

He doesn’t even offer him the courtesy of a hello.

“I found something.” His voice is tight, restrained like he doesn’t want to break the news to Steve.

“Yeah,” Steve swallows, “Me too.” He drags a hand across his jaw and sighs in exasperation. “You go first.”

Dustin pauses and Steve can hear a crinkling of paper as he unfolds something.

“It’s not much,” He begins. “Just a note from her that says, ‘I’ll see you at the beginning.’”

Hearing this, Steve bites his lip and wishes he didn’t know what it meant. But paired with the evidence to hand, his missing daughter, an intemperate watch, a note, a shuddery feeling roiling in his gut, and a missing token from a lifetime ago—

It would seem that Steve Harrington, age 55 of Hawkins, Indiana, is a man who has nothing but time.

[thewulf]

Time is a Gift || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Summary: Can I request a Bradley x Reader where they are really good friends (can be stationed anywhere idc) and reader just lost a really important family member to her (mom/dad/brother/sister) and only Bradley really knows her pain of losing somebody you love so young... Read Rest Here

A/N: Very sad but sweet. Goes out to those who've lost somebody close too soon. Thank you for the request!

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Y/N

Word Count: 2.7k +

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be here for the rest of your life. You still had so much to learn from her. She was supposed to be there for your wedding, if that was ever going to happen, for the birth of your children. She was supposed to be the world’s best grandma. But she never even got the chance.

 An aneurysm took her from the world two weeks ago. Your life changed entirely in those two weeks since you got the dreaded call.

One night you hung the phone up with an “I love you.” Then the next morning you got the call from your dad. She was gone. Just like that. At least it was painless. At least it was in her sleep. That’s the only thing that gave you any sort of solace. She didn’t suffer. But she was gone. Your mom. Momma. Mommy. Your rock. Just gone. Off into the night and never coming home.

Sure, you’d had your blow out fights with her when you were younger. But as you got older you got closer with her. She was your best friend. Your biggest cheerleader. Your number one confidant. The person you went to when you needed just about anything. Just gone. Poof. Like the wind.

It felt like you couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Merely going through the motions. A zombie of your former self. You didn’t even remember the funeral. You didn’t remember hugging your brother goodbye at the airport. You didn’t remember a damn thing that first week. Fragile. Broken. A shell of your former self.

Your dad dropped you off back in San Diego after the two weeks of leave you’ve been given. It all felt so pointless. So helpless. Your favorite thing in the world, flying, didn’t even spark an interest. The thought of going back to work in a few days made you physically ill. You couldn’t anymore. There wasn’t a point. This devastation of the reality of the situation hit you the hardest. She’d never got to meet the man you’d marry (or so you thought). She was robbed of so much. Her life cut impossibly short.

You and Bradley were normally tied at the hip. You all but ignored him for the last two weeks. Only giving him a few responses in your absence. It was hard to feel bad. It was hard to feel anything. It’s like she took a chunk of your soul when she departed the earth.

Bradley couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand not being able to talk to you. Talk you through it. He knew how it all felt. He knew better than anybody what it was like. His mom passed not that long ago. He could help you. But you wouldn’t take it. You refused it. Only giving him enough to know you were fucking alive.

He’d seen you at the funeral. But you were just a ghost of your former yourself. A body without it’s host. Something going through the motions. He’d tried in the small amount of time he got with you. It wasn’t enough. You were too far gone to hear anybody at that point.

He knew you were coming back today. When you didn’t answer his text, then the phone call, then another text he knew what he needed to do. He had to come to you. As your best friend. As the man who loved you more than anything in the world. As the man who was so enamored with you he couldn’t possibly imagine a life without you in it. Without your bright smile that made your eyes crinkle up in the corners. Without your infectious laughs that’d bring any sane man down to his knees. You’d helped him as much as he hoped he could help you. If you’d let him in.

He knocked on your door only to be met with utter silence. You had to be back though. Your car was moved into the driveway. You were home and you were isolating yourself. It broke his heart thinking how lost you must’ve been. Lost without somebody to guide you through the unimaginable.

The tears dried up after a week of crying. But the numbness… the numbness didn’t ever seem to fade. Not even when you slept. It only seemed to grow stronger. Take your over inch by inch day after day. You’d screamed and cried and let it all out, but she was still gone. You would never be able to talk to her again. Get her advice on a boy or an outfit. You’d never be able to cry into her shoulder when you got your heart broken again. She just didn’t exist anymore.

You heard the knocking. Oh, you heard it loud and clear. But you couldn’t get up. The bed was swallowing you, consuming your entirety. Not that you were upset about it. You wanted it to. What was the point? She was stripped right from you. A sick twist of fate.

You also heard the lock click open. The front door opened and closed softly. It was Bradley. You could tell just by the steps he took. By the sounds he made. He’d always had a spare key. For as long as you’d lived close to him he had a key to yours and you to his. For emergencies of course.

“Y/N?” He called from down the hall. Even if you wanted to there was no sound that came from your mouth. You pulled the comforter over your head. Maybe he wouldn’t see you. Maybe.

It didn’t work. He’d spotted you almost instantly. Because he was Bradley.

“Y/N?” It was a whisper now. He didn’t turn the light on as he walked into your bedroom. His heart shattering as he inched closer. He pulled the comforter down only to see your sallow face. Had you been eating? Were you even taking care of yourself?

“Hey, sweetheart.” He whispered bringing a comforting hand to your head. Softly, he brushed the tangled hair out of your face. Face contorting seeing you so… broken. You were usually so polished and poised. A brilliant smile always adorning your precious face. He was a sucker. A sucker so hopelessly in love it hurt. Seeing you like this made his sucker heart implode in itself.

You still hadn’t said a word. It made him more than nervous. He walked to the other side of the bed taking a seat in the spot next to you, “I’m here Y/N. I’m here.” He watched as you slowly rolled yourself to face him. Flicking your eyes up to his more than concerned face. It made you feel something. Something for the first time in two fucking weeks.

“Bradley…” You managed to croak out after not speaking for what felt like two weeks. The conversations were kept short between you and your grieving father.

His eyes softened even more as he witnessed the tears falling down your face, “Hey, I’m here.”

“I’m so tired.” The tears the seemed to have dried up were now freely falling from your face once again. He’d brough you back from the dead just by being there for you.

He nodded scooting a bit closer. Brushing the tears out of your face with his thumbs, “I know. Time doesn’t heal all wounds Y/N. You’ll miss her every damn day. Some days more than others. But there is a gift time gives us.” Gently, he palmed your chin to look in his direction, “Time softens the pain and blurs the painful memories.”

More tears raced down your cheek. Bradley opened the floodgate that seemed to be stuck closed. Your heart ached for him. Not even realizing how much you’d shut him out over the last few weeks. It hit you how bad you needed him right then and there as he inched his was closer and closer towards you.

He knew it too. He saw the flash come across your face. He saw the way your eyes downturned. He knew you through and through, “Come here.” He sat up on the bed so you could cuddle into him. Knowing exactly what you needed in that moment.

Immediately you pushed the comforter aside in favor of him, “Bradley.” A sob escaped your throat as you clung to his chest. Clung to something that was alive and breathing.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” He ran a few fingers through your hair after he pulled you all the way into his lap squeezing you tight. You were falling apart right in front of him. He had to be strong for you. Had to be the rock that was suddenly take from you.

“It hurts.” Your voice raised an octave. You felt like a six your old child having a meltdown. Your eyes were bloodshot from the salty tears that sprung back to life. Your nose was running like a faucet. You felt like you couldn’t breathe from the sobs that wracked your chest. You felt broken. Broken beyond repair. Not even sure if Bradley could help.

“Shh.” He pulled your head into the crevice of his neck and rocked you back and forth in his arms, “Remember that summer that was hotter than beyond belief? God what was that? Twenty some odd years ago now?” He knew he had to get you thinking about something else. Pull your pretty little head out of the deep dark spiral it was in.

You nodded into him. You were eight and he was ten. Your family had just moved in across the street the winter prior. Your parents had tried to get the two of you to play but neither of you were having it. Afterall girls had cooties and boys were disgusting. That was until you were playing outside one day. You’d caught a rogue football with ease. Bradley invited you to join him and some of his friends. Thank God you did because the rest was history.

“It was so hot. Over 100 degrees and mom wouldn’t let me come inside.” He smiled remembering how he felt like she was torturing him.

You hummed letting his talking take over, letting it completely distract you from reality. It felt good to be cuddled up in his arms. Like you were meant to be there.

“And your mom let me come inside for a freeze pop. A blue one.” Bradley grinned remembering. He always thought it was so funny how your brain held onto the seemingly most random memories. Little did he know why his brain held onto it. To help you right now. He understood why all the sudden.

“I remember thinking how lucky I was then. To have found you as a friend. Your mom treated me like her own son. I’d never felt so loved by somebody other than my mom.” He squeezed you just a bit tighter recalling that memory so vividly.

It made you smile. Somehow someway he’d done it. But then the tears started flowing again. Both happy and sad as you relished the memory. Happy you’d gotten to experience it but so sad you’d never get to make new ones with her.

“What is it?” He asked seeing the tears break free once more.

You sniffled for a moment trying to find the will to talk, “Bradley…” Another sob escaped you as you kept grabbing at his shirt. Feeling the material fist between your palms. It kept you grounded as you tried to come back to life.

“You can talk. You can cry. You can scream. You can punch me for all I care Y/N. Let it out sweetheart. I’m here for you. I’ll be here for you through it all.” He kept running his hand through your hair. He knew how much it normally soothed you just hoping it’d help a bit.

You held onto him. Held onto him like your life was dependent on it, “I wish it was me instead of her.”

He shook his head quickly before pulling you back. Looking you right in the eye and pleading with you, “Please don’t ever say that again. Please Y/N. You have to know how loved you are. How cherished you are by everyone you meet. You’re a light and we can’t live without you.” He paused a moment before adding, “I can’t live without you.”

It brought on another fresh set of tears. Ones you couldn’t pinpoint the emotions of. A mix of love, anguish, hurt, comfort, and everything in between seemed to roll down your cheeks once more. You’d wished you could stop. It never seemed like this would end. The world seemed to be showing you a much darker place lately.

He wrapped you back up. The worst is that he knew exactly how you felt. How your world was falling apart. Your person ripped fresh away from you. He wished he could take all the pain away from you. He wished and prayed. It wasn’t fair. But then again, when was it?

“I love you.” He whispered as he continued rocking you back and forth in his arms, “You are so adored.” He continued holding you.

“I’m so sorry.” You sounded a mess as you buried your face in his chest. You didn’t really wish your time on earth to be cut short. It was the sadness talking through you. Your mom would be so pissed you’d even say that.

He brought his hand up to cradle the side of your face into his chest. Almost as if you were a newborn baby. The overwhelming sense of comfort it brought on you was not lost. He was more than a best friend and you knew it. He knew it. But neither of you did anything about it. Comfortable in the state the two of you operated in. Nearly lovers but not quite. Tiptoeing on an invisible line.

“It’s okay.” He held you so close you found solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Slow and steady, here to calm you. Everything about him seemed to relax you just a bit. He allowed you to breakdown so fully in front of him. He was prepared and ready to pick up the crumbling pieces of the delicately built house that was now toppling down on top of you. He was ready though. Ready to be there for you. Always waiting in the wings ready to catch you if you needed it.

“Time is a curse.” He kissed the top of your forehead as he’d done hundreds of times, “Time is a gift. A beautiful gift.” He let you soak that in before continuing. He wanted you to really process the words.

You sighed feeling utterly relaxed under the gentle rocking and his light touch. His all-encompassing grip he had on you. You breathed in the sweet scent of Bradley A mixture of soap, leather, and single malt scotch. A scent that soothed you more than you realized.

“Thank you Bradley.” It came out so faint, but he heard it. Gently, he gave your sides a squeeze.

He nodded his head to the rhythm of the rocking motion he had you in. You were slowly succumbing to the effects of it all. His heartbeat, his smell, him. You were on the brink of falling asleep on him, “You got it sweetheart.” He placed another gentle kiss to your forehead, “I was told that grief is just the absence of love. A place where love can’t flow. Redirect that love into something new.”

You nodded into him feeling the weight of the world slowly being lifted off your shoulders. Your eyes drooped as you held onto him like your life depended on it.

He had thought you might’ve fallen asleep before you spoke again, “I love you. You know.” Your eyes shuttered closed for what felt like the final time that night as sleep threatened to take over.

Bradley smiled. His grip on you only getting a little tighter as his fingers squeezed just a bit harder, “I know sweetheart.”

You hummed a sweet sound. A soft smile caressed your fast before your breathing slowed. He watched you as your slept on him. Making a few maneuvers in the bed he laid your head in his side pulling you close again. Still letting you hear his heartbeat but laying down this time.

“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.” He placed one last kiss on your forehead before closing his eyes hoping to join you in a dreamless sleep.

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[bunnliix]

When Eight becomes Nine - Chapter Two preview!

I am on a roll, so here's a lil chapter preview! Honestly this series is fun to write, so it may get a couple updates because I have quite a few ideas for how this plays out!

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader Summary: Y/n is flying to Seoul, and we get a glimpse at the day's schedule at KQ for the shortlisted auditionees. wc: 466 AU: a/b/o Genre: Fluff/Angst warnings: anxiety, mentions of anxiety, that's it I think?? masterlist

Y/n couldn’t believe she was on a plane to Seoul right now. Like how did she even get this lucky to have this happen to them? She couldn’t believe she had even auditioned for KQ, let alone that she was one of the few being flown out for final auditions. Though, she was confused on why Ateez never said anything about the new member auditions, the boys must have known about it, yeah? Maybe the company wasn’t allowing them to say anything just yet. She shook her head, stopping themself from wondering further, it wouldn’t do much good.

She could still remember shooting the audition video. she honestly figured it was a shot in the dark, since her skills weren’t really up to par to an idol’s skill level. Before she could worry about anything else, the announcement in the cabin interrupted her thoughts, the captain announcing her descent into Incheon Airport would commence soon. At the announcement, she could feel anxiety starting to bubble up in her stomach, at the fact that she was getting close to the moment of truth, and potentially even meeting Ateez, which was kinda scary as well. Like she never thought she'd ever meet the group of men she kinda idolized.

______________________________________________________________

“The schedule for today is as follows. We’re heading straight to the company as because of the delay in some of your flights arriving, we have no time to bring you to your home for the next couple days. Once we get there and you are all registered into the system, we will head right for the practice room to review your dance skills. A couple members of Ateez will also be there to evaluate you all.” She said, but was cut off by whispers and giggles from others as they realized they’d be meeting a few members of Ateez today.

“Before I was interrupted,” the staff continued as she shot stern looks at everyone, and to which y/n shrunk into herself a bit further. She was already a bit put off by all the changes, and to be silently scolded despite doing nothing didn’t help matters. “After that, there may be cuts if anyone isn’t up to standard. Then we will move into the studio, where you’ll work with Hongjoong and Mingi, and they will see if you fit in with the rest of the members vocally, as well as your demeanor and work ethic. And if there is enough time, we may have a select few learn a few choreographies with the group and perform it, to see exactly how well you fit in. No matter what, the final decision will most likely not be made today. So unless you’re cut, you have chances to prove yourselves. Understood?” She finished.

“Understood.” The group chorused back.

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[crazycurly-77]

Hey, Ms. Secret Service! - Chapter 8

Finally getting tired you headed both to your respective beds and after a restful sleep, you sat together with Kate and Jackson at the breakfast table. 

Unfortunately it was raining, so any activity outside was not possible, which made you sad, because you had wanted to have fun with the boat so much. Kate on the other side was happy, she would be able to stay in the cabin and didn't have to walk through the forest where there were so many creatures. 

Suddenly Gibbs said “it's Sunday and the weather will not get any better. Think we will head home.”

Jackson nodded “yeah. Sad to say, but I too think that will be the best. Especially since I'm heading back home tomorrow. But you can visit me, if you want. After all, I still have to meet your little sheep” he winked at you. 

You beamed “yeah, for sure. Will do. Then we can chat about flying some more and take some joyrides.”

“Yeah, I would like that” he answered beaming, too. 

Kate only rolled her eyes and Gibbs…looked from one to the other and felt content. For a few seconds he had the feeling that you were a family, sitting there and making plans for the future. But then he snapped out of these thoughts into reality again. Shaking his head, he stood up and began clearing the table once again. 

Shortly after, you all sat in Gibbs’ car on the drive home to D.C. In contrast to the drive on Friday, it was silent. Nobody said a word and were lost in their own thoughts. 

Sooner than all of you wanted, you were back in your normal life and your ways were separating once again. Everyone drove home and Jackson's flight was going in a few hours, too. 

So this was it, wasn't it? 

It was a nice weekend with a lot of laughter and neither of you wanted it to end, not even Kate. Because now she only saw Gibbs on business, like before. 

On Friday of the following week you came into the office with a backpack, which caused everyone to wonder, because normally you didn't take any bag with you. 

“Are you making a journey over the weekend?” Tim asked and all heads shot up in attention. 

“Yes. After work I'll drive to the airport and then fly to Jackson with the chopper he wanted to know.”

Tim only nodded “okay, have fun.”

You smiled warmly at him “thank you.”

The rest of the day was totally boring, nothing happened. Just the usual. 

Shortly after lunch you received an email from Gibbs

“Hey Y/N, 

I've to finish an important report today. 

After I'm done…is it okay, when I'm coming with you?

G”

You thought you didn't read it correctly, but there it was, Gibbs was asking you, if he can come with you visiting his father over the weekend…that was new, but welcomed. So you answered him

“Yes, sure. I'm waiting for you.”

As he finished, you went to the elevator and left the office to get a few things for him for the weekend. Then you drove to the airport and flew with the helicopter to Stillwater, Gibbs’ hometown. 

You landed a little bit outside the village and then walked to Jackson's house.

He hugged you both tightly and full of joy “Hey Y/N! Leroy! Glad to see you! You're staying over the weekend?” 

“Hi, Jackson” 

“Hi Dad, yes we are” 

“Where is your car?” 

“We flew here with the little sheep. If I remember correctly, you wanted to learn to know him and so, here we are” you laughed and winked at him. 

“That's not possible, you're crazy” he said grinning. 

“Sure I am, I'm working with your son!”

You all laughed, but despite that you earned a short stern look from Gibbs. 

Later that evening, when you were already in bed, Jackson asked Gibbs “where's Kate?” 

“In D.C.”

“She didn't want to come?”

“I didn't ask her.”

“Okay.”

“That's interesting” the old man thought. 

The whole weekend, you three chatted about everything and nothing. You talked about flying stories, crime stories and tales of Gibbs as a kid, which he was slightly embarrassed about. 

On Saturday you flew with Jackson in the helicopter and thrilled as he was, you let him fly a little bit on Sunday. 

As you said your goodbyes, you hugged tightly and decided to spend your weekends together more often. 

The flight was uneventful and soon you were at your apartment again. 

You were a little bit tired because of the flight, but you were happy. It was wonderful to spend time with both Gibbs men, who would have thought? 

Back at his house, Gibbs spend the evening in his basement working on his boat, drinking bourbon and thinking the same thoughts as you. It was wonderful to spend time with you and his father, but that is surely caused by the presence of Jackson. 

So three more weeks went by and you visited Stillwater two more times and every time together with Gibbs. In the meantime, you were both helping Jackson in the store, flying joyrides with the plane you were coming in and cooking and chatting together like a real family. 

Gibbs became more and more open and accessible. And yes, it was fun to be in his company. From time to time he was telling jokes, can you imagine? You didn't think that was even possible. 

On the last evening of your second visit, you three sat together in front of the fireplace, chatting. 

Suddenly Jackson said “I need to check, if I ordered all needed things. I'm back in a few minutes” and he was heading to his little office. 

You asked “should we help you?”

“No, no. It's not so much. I'll be right back.”

“Okay, until later!”

As he was gone, you both fell silent. Then you whispered “thank you.”

“For what?” came Gibbs’ immediate answer. 

“For accepting the friendship between your father and me and for all the nice time together.”

He nodded to that “thank you, too.”

“Gibbs…” you began. 

“Jethro.” 

You only looked at him, not understanding what he meant. 

“Call me Jethro” he repeated. 

“Jethro?” you asked. 

He laughed slightly, looking into your eyes “yes, exactly.”

You laughed slightly, too and looked down at your hands, because you didn't know how to say it. But so be it, straight forward, as always. 

“Jethro…please don't get angry, but I love being here. I love visiting your father, flying with him and helping him. And when we three are sitting together, it feels like a real family to me. I missed this so much, since I have no family myself since my brother died.” You hung your head and waited anxiously for his answer, fearing to be reprimanded. 

But there were no words from him. Instead, he took your chin in his hand, turning your head slowly until your eyes met. He cupped your cheek with one hand, slowly closing the gap between you two, giving you time to stop him. 

Then he whispered “I'm glad, because I'm feeling it, too”. He closed the distance and kissed you cautiously and slowly, as if he wanted to burn this moment into his memory. He deepened the kiss and thought he was dancing on air as you answered. Your brain did go blank and you felt like you were on cloud nine. How could this be possible? You were both in front of the fireplace of Gibbs’ father kissing each other!!!

You two lost track of time and space and so you were startled when you were brought back into reality, because someone cleared their throat. 

Unbeknownst to you both, Jackson had been standing in the door frame the whole time and was grinning madly in joy of what he observed. He was more than content and hoped that soon you all will finally be a real family. 

After all, the weekend was over and you flew back to D.C. Neither Jethro, nor you knew what to say, but didn't want to let this weekend end. But it has to. So you said your goodbyes and hugged awkwardly, feeling and breathing in the other. 

This was a whole new situation of which you two had to deal with and because of that, there was a lot to proceed. Fact was, that you had to decide how this should be going further. If this was going any further.

(To be continued...)

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Here you will find the other chapters of this story and the other stories I've written to date.

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Tags: @ilovemark1951

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[skijumpingf1]

The End (D.Prevc X D.Tande)

This was my way of coping with Daniels retirement. So this oneshot is about the whole situation around the retirement (Domiel´s version). I was on a field trip from uni these past weeks so had to write this on my phone, and it is probably not as good because I hate to write on my phone. But I had like an urge to do this. So enjoy! This is set in my interconnected oneshot series (last part is here) and it is from Domens perspective just to let you know.

Wordcount: 3984

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I am a bit nervous as I stand in the arrival hall at the airport in Ljubljana. Daniel was just training over in Norway and seeing his family. Judging by his mood over the phone at least one of those didn’t go so well. He seemed a bit stressed, but he wouldn’t tell me why. Maybe he hasn’t figured it out yet. I hope it has nothing to do with the fact that he officially moved to Slovenia a few months ago. He seemed happy with it but maybe he got homesick.

After planica it was pretty clear that Daniel would move and not me. Still, I gave it a bit of thought and he spoke to his family. His mom was hesitant, but she loves us together (and me too) and she knew that we were ready for the next step. Our national teams were pretty open about it too. So, we went apartment hunting in the area of the airport. The commute from our home to the airport shouldn’t be high when he would fly that much. To be honest, the first few weeks were a bit like heaven and hell at the same time. Heaven in the way that we could finally spent as much time together as we want. Hell because we went public at the same time and we may have underestimated the attention we would get. Especially here.

We were recognized almost every time we went outside. That lead to us not going anywhere which wasn’t good for Daniels acclimatization here in Slovenia. Eventually the attention got less and less, and we could move on.

Now that Daniel lives with me, it is my regular duty to collect him at the airport. I still love seeing him again. But today I am not just thrilled that my boyfriend is back.

His flight has landed about fifteen minutes ago and customs and stuff is always quick here so he should be out any minute. The door between the secluded area and the world outside opens and a few people in suits step out. I peak behind them. Daniel is coming out next. Automatically I form a smile at him. I spot him first and I get a moment of just looking at him when he doesn’t feel seen. He looks worried. Or stressed. Maybe unsure even. I swallow hard. So, it wasn’t my imagination that something was up. Then he notices me and his face lights up. His steps are getting faster and then he is back with me. I open my arms and pull him into a tight hug. “I missed you so much.”, I greet him.

“I have been gone for just six days.” “Yes, and? I still missed you.” The apartment was painful quiet without him. I even went to my parent’s house for a night. Officially to hang out with my sisters but I was there because I couldn’t stand the emptiness.

“I missed you too.” He presses a small kiss to my lips and takes my hand. I grab his suitcase but not without him complaining that he could do it himself. On the drive back home, he updates me on his family who are planning on visiting in a few months. This makes me think that something on the ski jumping side is up. Which is kinda scary. His from isn’t the best right now but he never acted this down. Something must have happened. Did he fall again and not told me? Or the team? After last season the whole dynamic changed. It wouldn’t surprise me if there would be still tensions inside team Norway after that.

“What’s up?”, I ask when I put a glass of wine in front of his face. We reheated the Lasagne that I made this morning for us (Yes, I actually can do a proper lasagne.) Now he is already sitting down waiting for me to do the same. “Nothing is up. Should be something up?” I take a sip from my glass and sit down. “I don’t know. Tell me.” He frowns a bit. His beautiful face is making a grimace. “I hope it is nothing major, so I didn’t want to tell you. You know the rule. I don’t know if I am really serious yet.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Oh god. He is thinking about retirement. That’s out rule. No talk about retiring if you are not serious.

I know him. The way he acts, the way he talked. He really thinks about it. “But you are serious considering it, aren’t you?” “I mean, it crossed my mind a few times. Especially this past week.” He doesn’t look at me. Daniel studies the tablecloth. I reach over the table and take his hand. “It is okay, Daniel. If you are considering it, talk it through with me.”  He finally looks up and I can spot a few tears in his eyes. I squeeze his hand tighter. “I know how hard Peros retirement was for you. I don’t want to burden you with another potential hard hit.” “You know the worst part was that he didn’t spoke to me, right? So, talk to me. Why are you considering it?” I can’t believe we are actually having this conversation now. In a few years for sure but it is so soon. Obviously, I would respect his decision either way, but I would miss him greatly in world cup.

“After Planica I hoped that every time, I would jump the fear would be getting less overwhelming and at the beginning it was like that. I don’t know what changed but now it feels like the opposite. Every time I am at the gate the fear is getting stronger and stronger again. Maybe it has to do with my bad form and that I am not trusting myself a hundred percent. Maybe it is me getting older.” Gosh sometimes I hate him. Why doesn’t he tell me stuff like this? It must be overwhelming to fear the thing he loves. Conflicting and hurtful. I know how much he loves it. I have seen it first hand. It is a passion we share. I couldn’t even imagine how hard it is to start losing it.

Daniel takes a sip from his wine. The Lasagne is long forgotten. “Do you think it could change again when you get into shape?” He raises his shoulders and sighs. “That’s what I am trying to find out.” I run my hand through my hair. That is a lot to be honest. “Ok.  If you want to talk it through, let me know. And I mean it. If you can’t sleep because of it wake me up.” He raises an eyebrow and puts a hand on my cheek. “I will try but I know that topic is hard for you too.” “Obviously I want you to continue with ski jumping. It means that we can spent so much more time together. Especially since it would be the first season since we are out. But if you just torture yourself with it, let it be. I can understand it. Ultimately ski jumping should bring you more joy than fear.”

Ziga stares worriedly at me when lift my weights. There is really no reason for it. I am doing everything like I do usually. Same weight, same posture. “What?”, I ask my teammate as soon as I set the weights down. “You just look emotional. That is rare.” “Very rare.”, adds Lovro who just finished his rotation on the weights too. I sigh and let myself sit down at the bench. “A lot on my mind recently.”, is my vague answer to the unasked question. “Care to elaborate?” I actually would but it is not my thing to share. So, I couldn’t. Also, it wasn’t like Daniel made up his mind in the last two days. Even though I think I know in which direction he will decide. Subconsciously he knows he can’t continue. But he needs to figure it out himself.

“Nope. I don’t want to elaborate.” “Ah, it is Daniel. Do you want to propose? I mean I think you guys are endgame, but you just moved in together. Maybe wait at least half a year.”, Timi chimes in. My eyes widen. Proposing and marriage can wait a few more years. Until we are comfortable living together. “No, I am not proposing. It just complicated stuff. Stuff that I can’t really talk about now.”  My teammates look not sacrificed but that is not my problem. “Don’t you think Daniel would be okay with you talking about it with your friends? I mean he knows how teams work. He probably talks about you with his teammates as well.” Normally I would agree but this is a sensitive topic. Daniel isn’t sure yet. And I don’t want him to get pressure from the guys since he trains with us quite often. “Maybe I just don’t want to talk about it with you guys.” I wink at them and stand back up. Lovro rolls his eyes. “Idiot.”

When I come home a few hours later. Another car is parked in front of the house. A car that I am pretty familiar with. What is Peter doing here? Did I forget that we were supposed to babysat today? Normally Peter would remind me twice before he brings his kids to our home. Slowly I enter the airy apartment that always reminds me of Daniels flat in Oslo. “I know it is a hard decision, but I don’t think it is a decision anymore.”, I hear my brother speaking. Oh. Seems like Danny invited my brother to talk about his potential retirement. Judging by Peros last sentence he also thinks that Daniel already made up his mind.

“I am home.”, I call out loudly to make my presence know. It was only fair, and I don’t want to spy on boyfriend. I take off my jacket while I hear rumbling in the living room. Seconds later Daniel is standing in the small hallway. A half smile on his lips. He is wearing jeans. Probably because Peter is over. Normally he prefers sweats at home. Or just boxers, my favourite choice. He closes the distance between us and puts an arm around my torso to pull me in. “Hei.”, he whispers. We are so close that I can feel his breath on my lips. I lean in and kiss him softly. As soon as I wrap my arms around him, I can hear a mumbled noise. Peter. I almost forgot he is here too. Reluctant, I let go of my boyfriend.

“Hello Peter.” My brother is standing in the doorway and has a smile on his lips. He is always so weird about Danny and me. He still looks so ... proud, I guess. As if he still couldn’t believe it. “I don’t want to annoy you guys any longer. Daniel if you want to talk again, I am free most of the time.” Peter pats me on the shoulder when he passes us on the way to wardrobe. “Or you could stay for dinner. If Mina doesn’t mind of course. Daniel made Kjøttboller.” Both of them look at me in surprise. It was not typical for me at all to spend more time with Peter than I needed. Especially outside of our childhood home. Mum hosts a Dinner once a week since I moved out. Whenever we could, Tuesdays were spent there. Recently I used this to speak with Peter more. It is weird but I miss him around. Apart from the dinner I only see him at hand overs for babysitting.

“If it wouldn’t burden you, I would love to try whatever Daniel made.”, Peter replies. “Don’t expect too much. There just meatballs.”, says Daniel and than he presses as short kiss to my lips.

“Do you have time to fly to Norway soon?” We are both not sleeping that night. He didn’t tell me that he is going to retire yet. But I know he knows that I know. If that makes sense. Daniel probably hasn’t said it out loud yet. Not even to himself. Saying something makes something more official. It is like when you say I love you for the first time. It is a big step that can’t be taken back. Nevertheless, the unspoken words are hanging between us. Both too restless to sleep because of it.

“I am going to Wisla. But I could fly to Norway before or after that.”, I answer his question. His hand is running over my chest. It is dark so I can’t really see him, but I think he is sitting a bit up. “I need you there when I tell people. Without you I can’t do it.” “Of course. Tell me when to book flights and I will do the rest.” I swallow hard. Just don’t start to cry, Domen. Daniel is now living here. I will see him more often now since he doesn’t need to go back to Norway that often. And Danny will probably come to a few competitions at least. I close my eyes. “I am proud of you.”, I say and try to hide my trembling voice. “Don’t you think it is cowardly to just give up? To just retire?” There it is. Retire. Fully officially spoken. I turn to my side to face him. I trace his hand on my chest and take it into my hand. “I think it is brave that you know when to stop and to leave the world you have known forever.” It is quiet on the other side of the bed for a few moments. “Thanks, I needed to hear this.” “I love you, Daniel. Of course, I know what you need and now you need a big cuddle session.” As I speak, I wrap my arms around him and pull him into my side. “I love you too.”

The whole flight to Oslo, Daniel squeezed my hand so bad that I almost asked him if he changed his mind. But the look of relief on his face when he realized that he wouldn’t need to jump this time he was back in Norway, made me realize that he was just scared. Scared of what his family and team will say.

The first stop of our list is his family. Trude Tande breaks out in tears as soon as her son announces his retirement. Tears of relief, I should add. Daniel told me once that she always is nervous watching him jump but after Planica it got worse. After we left his family home, we get to his trainer. The only time Daniel said it makes more sense to be alone when he tells someone. So, I wait in the car. He is already in there for half an hour. I don’t know if it’s long or short for this kind off conversation. I never had one myself and I never occurred to me to ask my brothers about their talks with our coaches. I run my hand through my hair while I text Nika to ask how she has been doing. Our schedules didn’t really align the past couple of weeks, so I just saw her once. I would probably have to wait a few hours for a reply since she is in the gym right now.

I look at the watch in the car. Now it has been 40 minutes. At what point should I go in and storm into the office? An hour? Just as I open the car door, Daniel comes out of the building. His eyes puffy and cheeks red. I slam the car door behind me and take a step towards him. He wraps his arms immediately around me when I reach him and buries his face in my neck. “Everything will be alright.”, I say because I don’t know what else to say. Daniel is clinging onto me, and I brush lightly over his back. “It was just so hard seeing the petty look on his face.”

We stand there for a while. I don’t know for how long exactly. At some point his cries get less and less. “Are you okay getting in the car?”, I ask him. He nods quietly and I let him go but without really letting him go. I still hold his hand until he is sitting in the passenger seat. Before I close the door, I give him a small kiss. I take a deep breath outside the car. It hurts so much seeing him like this. We both know it is the right decision, but ski jumping was such a big part in his life. Of course it hurts.

“Should I call the guys and cancel?”, I speak when we finally reached Daniels flat. He invited his teammates and a few old friends to his apartment in Oslo, which he kept until now. It is time to tell them about the retirement as well but after the conversation with his trainer I don’t know if it is the right thing to do today. Some of his teammates are on the way to Wisla as well and booked their flights over Oslo to be here. But I am sure they would understand if he would cancel. “No. I think I have to do this today and I want them to know.” While I nod, I wrap my arms around his torso. He is too restless to sit down, but I trap him near the couch where I sit. He puts his hands over mine and breaths in. Finally, the nervous energy leaves. “Do you want a shot maybe? Or a glass of wine? Beer?” My boyfriend turns inside my arms until he faces me. I open my legs for him and invite him to take a step closer to me. He runs a hand through my hair. “I have a better idea to get the energy out.”, he smirks. “You know the guys are coming in an hour, right? And we need to do the food.” I know logically that it isn’t a good idea, but I let my hand run down his spine until I reach his ass. “Strong words for someone who is practically forcing me onto his lap.” “Force of habit.”, I reply while I put more force in to get him on top of me. He chuckles. “We make it quick.”

 Daniel looks so much relaxed when the doorbell rings. While I put the last mini pizzas in the oven, he opens the door. Andres Fannemel is the first to arrive. He is already retired and not much around in the ski jumping community at the moment. I probably haven’t seen him in at least two years. But Daniel and him kept close contact. “If you want something to drink, Domen is in the kitchen and will get you something. I just put some music on.”, speaks Daniel and the hallway.

I can hear the steps of the Norwegian and swiftly put the last utensils in the cupboard. “Domen.”, nods Anders when he enters the kitchen. “Hey Anders. How is it going?” The retired ski jumper shrugs. I don’t think he is particularly fond of me. Maybe he thinks it was my fault that we took so long to make our relationship public or maybe he just doesn’t like me. But it has gotten better of the years. “Good actually. How are things with you?” “Still trying to figure my form out. Apart from that everything is relatively fine.” Apart from the fact that all my close people in world cup chose to retire. First Cene, then Mac (who just took a break but somehow hasn’t been back), of course Peter and now Daniel. “Are you coping without Peter in training?” “It has been harder than I thought but it is okay. I am a bit closer to my other teammates now.” I take a glass out and give it to Anders. He looks suspicious at it. “Behind you are the drinks.” “And how are you coping with this?” He pours himself a coke into the glass and leans against the table. “With what?”, I reply hesitantly. A smirk is building on Anders face. “It is kind of obvious. Never have I ever seen that Daniel hosts a team dinner and the way he spoke about ski jumping the last few weeks. You forgot that I am already retired. I know what leads to this decision. So, how are you coping with Daniels retirement?”  

Daniel pops into the kitchen. “Rob just texted that he and the others are almost there. The flight from Trondheim was delayed.” Just as he speaks the doorbell rings, and he is out of the door again. Anders still looks awaiting at me. “For him it is the best decision, and I am happy for him. Personally, I would want him to continue but not under those circumstances. Luckily, we live together now. Without that I would be way more stressed about this.”

Daniels flat is packed with ski jumpers and ex ski jumpers. I get a few surprised glances when Dannys teammates realize that I am also here. It is uncommon that I would join a team get together from team Norway. I mean I have done it from time to time but not regularly. But this one is a Daniels place, so I don’t think it is too strange. But it raises suspicions. Robert takes one look at Daniel when he arrives, and I know that he could tell like Anders. It is the way his gaze softens when he picks up on the energy of Daniel and me.

“So, Daniel, why are we here? What’s up?”, says Marius once everyone is settled in with drinks. My gaze shoots up my boyfriend who is already looking at me. I give him a warm smile and lean a bit against him. Again, I am sitting on the couch, and he is standing. This is our thing now apparently. He sets his hand on my shoulder and holds himself steady. Daniel looks up at his friends. I do the same. Some look worried, some look curios. Anders looks proud. “Ehm, I invited you guys over to officially tell you that I am retiring.” I can feel the way he tenses through his hand on my shoulder. I lay my hand on top his and wait on the reaction of his teammates. Robert is the first to speak. “Daniel it was a pleasure.”, he stands up and gives my boyfriend a hug. “I don’t know what to say. My god, Danny.”, Halvor follows. A few seconds later Daniel is surrounded by his teammates in a big group hug.

Next day is the day of the official public announcement. The team thought it would be fitting to shoot the video at the holmenkollen hill. I must agree that the location is perfect. It still is the last place where Daniel won. I am standing behind the camera and watch my boyfriend prepare. The whole night he was up to find words. “Okay Daniel. When ever you are ready.” And then he begins. He is more pulled together than I thought. A proud smile appears on my face. When our gazes meet, he nods barely visible. “I have given this decision a lot of thought. There is a mental barrier that remains after my fall in Planica, the fear has grown bigger than the joy of jumping.” I smirk when I hear a version of my words from when he told me.

When he is done, he takes a few steps in the direction of the hill. I follow him. Daniel looks up the hill with a smile laugh. “I can’t believe this is it. This is really the end.”

[ladysomething]

omg Mads, do keep us updated on your travels cause I never go anywhere and its so cool to hear about your lovely experiences!

And not to be too greedy... but cause we're not getting a chapter tomorrow, would it be possible to get a little snippet or anything to keep us going until we do get it?

But equally, we all appreciate your writing so much and know how much time and effort you put into it already, so if you can't it's no worries at all!

I did just do a quick one, but I'm happy to give you all another!

as for my travels: right now I'm in the airport in Mallorca, about to fly to Sardinia! I have less than two weeks until I fly home now, which is really sad, even though I've been away for like. two months. BUT I'm so looking forward to seeing my puppies, so I'm trying not to be TOO sad about going home haha.

here is a little sneak peek. IT'S NSFW!!!! a present for the cockwarming anon lmao.

“Take the plug out?” He asks, sounding more breathless than he thought he would. 

Max groans, palms smoothing over his arse cheeks, then slips his fingers down to carefully take hold of the head of the plug. He’s gentle as he pulls it out, telling Charles to relax, and then he carefully rests it on top of the piano while Charles clenches his muscles and keeps Max’s come inside him—it’s a futile attempt, because the plug has kept him loose and gaping. 

He’s never worn a plug before today, but he’s eager to try it again. He would have never thought he’d be someone who enjoys it, but Max had fucked him so stupid this morning that Charles cried when his knot had finally deflated and his come had started to leak out. Max had soothed him with a kiss between his shoulder blades, and had gotten up from Charles’ bed to go into his room; when he’d returned, he’d had the plug in hand, and had effortlessly slid it inside his hole and made Charles promise to keep it inside him until after he’d left the apartment this afternoon. 

He’s fairly certain that Max is going to forgive him for breaking that promise right now. 

He can feel Max’s come leaking down his thighs, so he straightens himself up quickly and then throws his leg over Max’s lap, still facing the piano. Max takes a firm hold of his hips, keeping him steady and helping him down, and then releases one hip only to take hold of his cock and guide it inside him. 

He’s wet and loose, and the sound of Max’s cock pushing inside him is obscene. The length of it displaces the come still inside him, and Charles can feel it spreading everywhere between his arse and Max’s lap. 

By the time he’s fully seated, he’s breathing in short, shallow gasps, fingers clenched around the edge of the piano. It takes him a moment to clear his head, Max’s groaning into his neck not at all helping, but he manages it eventually. 

“Stay still,” Charles breathes. 

Then he lifts his hands to the piano again, and starts to play Max’s new favourite song.

[giuliadesu]

you are 25 when you hug 'tsumu for the first time.

...& THEN?

it was almost time. your apartment was a complete mess: two big suitcases laid open on the floor of your living room, while a backpack had been sitting on the cushions of your couch for the last couple of days. in the bedroom and in the kitchen there were boxes ready to be filled with the belongings you’d decided to bring along with you.

in a few days you would finally leave your country for good, a one-way ticket for japan bought months in advance. it felt incredibly liberating: the country of your dreams, where you unwittingly found a family and where you’d hopefully spend the rest of your life was waiting for you.

on the small console table near the front door sat all your documents: passport, approved visa, papers needed to start the process of obtaining citizenship, the last two paychecks and the note from the bank — last but not least the plane ticket. surreal. that was one word that could describe the hectic chaos of emotions swarming both your heart and head.

the owner of the small bookshop where you’d worked in the last five years (a lovely korean lady in her sixties) agreed to take your plants and to see you off at the airport on the day of your departure. looking around, all the green friends you’d seen grow in the last few years were bundled together, ready to meet their new home. a small smile graced your lips, happy to know they would’ve been well cared for and you’d receive regular updates on their growth.

then you still had to say goodbye to the owner of the apartment, who lived just next door; after that, all the tasks that still bound you to the city would be completed, setting you free to begin your new life.

YOUR LOCATION, 04:15

it was early, way too early for your likings. groaning, you stretched under the sheets, the tank top riding a bit over your ribcage. your hand tentatively moved over the duvet searching for your phone so to turn off the alarm. a few notifications arrived during your short slumber: a few messages from atsumu (who had absolutely no idea of the fact that today was the day), one from osamu, while the last one was from the wallet app, letting you know that your digital ticket was now available.

you chose a comfortable fit for the long journey — black leggings, ‘tsumu’s shirt and sweatshirt, the most comfortable pair on nike you owned. everything was ready; the bookstore owner would send your boxes over once you’d found a more permanent solution compared to an airbnb, while the two black suitcases were finally closed and next to the door. touring the various rooms one last time, you made sure to have taken everything with you.

several hours later, you were flying over vast mountainous regions, the plane directed towards incheon airport, where you would have to spend about an hour before the last leg of your journey.

a small yet sincere smile graced your lips when the hostess announced it was almost time for landing. you knew exactly what you would’ve done just a few minutes prior to boarding on the japan airlines airbus a350 — there was a certain someone you just had to call.

bubbling with adrenaline, you made your way towards the gate and opted to stay standing in front of the tall floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the runway. was this the same adrenaline atsumu and the others felt before a match? the feeling of being invincible and ready to do anything?

taking a deep breath, you went over to the setter’s contact info. you felt giddy inside thinking that now you were in the same timezone, for the first time in five years. it was almost 11 pm, you called.

“hey bubs, what’s up?”

“hi ‘tsumu, are you still at practice?”

“yeah, but now we’re having a short break. although you know i’d drop anything for you.”

shameless flirt, you thought to yourself, smiling widely at this point.

“well, i have a little something to tell you: currently, i’m at incheon airport. in a few minutes i’ll board a flight that will bring me to kansai international airport-”

“what?!”

ŌSAKA, 01:40

exactly one hour and forty minutes later, you were at the baggage claim. as expected of japanese punctuality, your two very black and very big suitcases were delivered on time, so in just ten minutes you were making your way over to exit the claim area of the airport.

you had no plans, apart from reaching the bnb you booked. you didn’t know if the small bomb you dropped to atsumu earlier on would have made him magically appear in front of you, for one of those incredibly cliché airport reunions that were so popular in dramas. right now you were just too tired to think further, the almost seventeen hours of flight weighing on you. slowly, you tried to navigate through the sea of people that, just like you, wanted to leave the area to reach a place of rest. but, you underestimated how big kix would be; despite being incredibly well designed, it was not exactly easy on the brain of someone who was that tired. for a split second you thought about asking osamu to come pick you up, but the idea quickly left your mind as fast as it came — he was surely tired after a long day at onigiri miya.

you stopped in a little less crowded area, trying to collect your thoughts and figure out the best route to reach your bnb.

atsumu had never run so fast in his entire life. the moment you ended the call, he dropped everything at the gym, shouting half an explanation to his team before grabbing his sweatshirt and sprinting out of the stadium, catching the first available taxi and finally making his way to the airport.

despite being this late, there were still so many people crowding the area. how the hell was he supposed to find you? running a hand through his messy blond locks, he tried to follow a logical line of thought: first, you must’ve gone through the customs to get your visa approved, then surely you went to the baggage claim; his eyes frantically scanned the huge display, looking for the latest plane inbound from seoul. gate 41. of course it had to be the farthest one from the main entrance!

his instinct told him to go towards the columns where the vending machines were located. sure enough, you were there. with his clothes on. your backpack was sitting nicely on top of your suitcase, open as you rummaged through its contents.

atsumu smiled as he made his way behind you, his cheeks hurting from the emphasis of the movement. as he got closer, he could breathe in your perfume and the fragrance of your shampoo. seeing his surname plastered across your back did inimaginable things to his heart, adrenaline shooting through his veins at a thousands miles per second. then, quickly yet gently, he brought his hands to cover your pretty eyes, your back now flush against his sturdy chest — the 32 centimetres of height difference even more evident.

“hey bubs, welcome home.”

it all happened in a fraction of a second: you tensed, then quickly spun around to bury your face in his chest, while hugging him tightly.

“‘tsumu! what are you doing here? you’re supposed to be at practice now!”

“do you really think i could’ve stayed there knowing you were here? very funny, bubs.”

after staying in silence wrapped around one another for a few more minutes, you moved your arms to sneak around his neck; in the meantime, his hands went to grab you in the space between your buttocks and the posterior part of your thighs, hoisting you up. immediately, your legs went around his waist.

now that you were eye level, you both had a dashing, lovestruck smile adorning your features. you cupped his cheeks and booped his nose with your own. your thumbs were slowly caressing the apples of his cheeks, never breaking eye contact.

then, a small whisper, as if his hold on you could disappear just like in a dream.

“hi, i’m home.”

a small kiss on the tip of your nose.

“hi, welcome home.”

ŌSAKA, 03:00

atsumu insisted on having you at home with him. his hand never left you: while going to the taxi, with one he was carrying half of your luggage, the other was intertwined with yours; during the ride, you were nestled in his side while his fingers gently moved up and down your arm.

despite the very late hour, neither of you was tired — there were simply so many things you wanted to do now that you were finally sharing the same space. without thinking twice, atsumu carried your things to his bedroom, setting them nicely near his wardrobe for you to unpack the next day.

“hungry, bubs? wanna  something to eat?”

when you happily nodded, he smiled brightly and ruffled your hair. then, he opened one drawer and pulled out a neatly folded shirt and handed it to you.

“go have a shower or a bath, whatever you fancy; i’ll fix you something in the meanwhile, yeah?”

“you’re the best, ‘tsumu, thank you!”

the sweet kiss you planted on his cheek (terribly close to his right snakebite) was all he needed before going to the main area of the house, where both the kitchen and the living+dining area sat in an open space. as he was about to leave the room, he turned back to you.

“feel free to leave all your things around, both in the bathroom and around the house!” 

now alone in his room, you sat on the floor. was it all real? or were you stuck in a wonderful dream? in case of the latter, then you had no intention of waking up. coexisting with atsumu in his space with him felt so natural and spontaneous, as if you’d always lived together. deep inside, you were squealing like a little child.

“okay, i need to stop. time for a shower!”

you rummaged a bit in your suitcase to fetch a pair of shorts to wear under the shirt and your toiletries. the warm water rolling over your body relaxed your muscles, tense from all the hours you spent crammed in a plane. also, the branches of eucalyptus that the setter kept in the wetroom gave off such a pleasant fragrance that did wonders to soothe the beginning of your headache.

clad in the way too big shirt and a towel around your neck to prevent your wet hair from dripping water everywhere, you made your way over to the kitchen. you stood for a bit in the doorframe, admiring the view: atsumu was in front of the stove, where a pot of water was boiling, and several ingredients sat on the countertop. he had ditched the sweatshirt as soon as you got home, so you could see the muscles in his arms flex for any single movement. with a small smile gracing your lips, you made your way over; once close enough, your right hand went over his back to rest right between his shoulder blades.

“that doesn’t look like a quick snack, mind if i help you?”

“oh no no no. you sit on the counter and look pretty.”

with that, atsumu wiped his hands on a towel, before picking you up by the waist and gently sitting you on the surface right next to him. effortlessly. the setter resumed his ministrations: chopping the scallion and the mushrooms, while the lotus root was simmering before being stir fried with the tofu. after having drained the noodles, he put them in another pot where coconut milk was simmering with some soy sauce; once the other ingredients finished their trip in the pan, they joined the noodles in the pot. a few more minutes and a big, steaming cup of vegetarian ramen was on the counter.

with the bowl in hand, atsumu came towards you, stopping between your legs. his right hand was holding a pair of chopsticks, with dangling udon and a bit of scallion on top.

“say ahhh.”

you leaned in close, graciously accepting the food in a single mouthful, a dashing smile lighting up your features.

“oh my gosh, it’s delicious! when did you learn to make this? and how did you know that it’s my favorite dish?”

“well, you mentioned it once three or four years ago, and after that time i asked ‘samu to teach me… y’know, in the eventuality we’d meet one day.”

your expression became even softer when noticing the slight blush adorning the tip of his ears. your hands went over his holding the bowl, retrieving also the chopsticks in the meanwhile. when you spoke again, while mimicking his actions and offering him a bite, your voice was barely above a whisper — but, considering how close you were, it was more than enough.

“and look at us now, together in your kitchen as if we’d been together for years.”

“honestly, bubs, i think it’s high time we fix that, yeah?”

after the incident with the pictures of almost two months ago, atsumu started shamelessly flirting with you, leaving no doubts or room  to misinterpret his feelings. and you, for once, decided that it was worth it to also let him know that yeah, you felt the same way and everything was perfect like this. in a sort of silent mutual understanding and agreement, after realizing for just how long you had been loving each other (at this point it was way more than a simple crush), it was okay to skip a few steps along the way.

when atsumu started to lean in close, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks, you wasted no time in sneaking your arms around his neck, lovingly caressing his nape.

and then it happened. at half past four in the morning, while in his kitchen, with an empty bowl of delicious ramen long forgotten next to you. ‘tsumu’s lips were on yours, ever so gentle and delicate; the cold metal of his piercings was a stark contrast with your own skin.

neither of you could stop the smile growing on your features. everything was just perfect. small laughs were exchanged in between kisses and pecks, with the soft light of the overhead kitchen lamp as the only source of illumination.

“gosh, i love you so so much…”

an almost inaudible whisper against your mouth, as gentle thumbs caressed your cheeks, a smile so bright it could’ve rivalled the whole galaxy.

“me too, ‘tsumu. i love you so much.”

ŌSAKA, 15:49

when you opened your eyes you were greeted by the warm light of the afternoon coming in from the huge window of the bedroom. the skyline of the city was perfectly visible, as the apartment was located on the last floor of a building. when you tried to stretch, you felt someone stirring and complaining about your sudden movement. lowering your gaze, you found atsumu resting his head comfortably on your chest, while his arms were tightly wrapped around your waist. he was wearing only a pair of grey trunks, too tired after his shower to put on anything else. lovingly, your hands found their way on his back and in his hair, gently massaging his incredibly soft locks — despite the frequent rounds of bleaching in order to achieve his desired color.

“hey sleepyhead, good morning.”

“five more minutes, please…”

you simply laughed a bit, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. at that the setter perked up, a lazy grin plastered across his face as he pressed his lips to yours.

“that was the best night of sleep i’ve ever had, bubs. ‘m so glad you’re finally here with me.”

“mhmh, i’m not going anywhere.”

you spent the next half an hour cuddling in bed (as if you’d done something different ever since you got into bed), whispering sweet nothings and deciding how to spend the rest of the day.

“i think tomorrow i’d like to meet your team, if it’s okay with you. and maybe this weekend we could go to onigiri miya with your mom, suna and aran? oh, but i have to get them something first. ah, and maybe i should first go to the government office, to start my citizenship application, just so i can be su-”

atsumu interrupted you with a sweet and innocent kiss, before looking at you with the most serious expression you’d ever seen on him.

“hey, marry me.”

“w-what?!” 

you were shocked, but not necessarily in a negative way: you had been dreaming of such an occurrence ever since he gave you the necklace with his surname on it. and you knew for certain that both of your feelings were stronger than ever, and would not falter anytime soon. it was just a sudden thought to voice, but after the developments of the last 24 hours, it was not a complete surprise.

“i mean it when i say that i love you. and i’m not afraid of marrying you on the spot. i’ve loved you silently for so many years now that i’d be ready to change my whole life to accommodate you in it. and sure, maybe we’re skipping a few steps along the way, we’re rushing things a bit, and i don’t even have a ring with me right now. but… marry me, please?”

and what were you supposed to answer? your heart belonged to him.

you cupped his cheeks, lifting his face until you were eye to eye. while his expression remained serious, you could see in those chocolate eyes a bit of doubt; he was probably wondering if he’d crossed a line, if such a thing was too much. after all, marrying a professional athlete was no easy feat — you’d have to be shielded from prying eyes, and his training hours kept him away from home most of the days, not to mention when he would have to attend away games. but you knew; in all those years it became obvious, and not once it became a problem in your eyes.

so you simply kissed him again and again, feeling his strong body relaxing in your hold.

“yes.” 

a couple of  hours and a call later, you were in the office of the legal person who would sign your marriage certificate within the government building. they agreed to process your request of citizenship as well, considering that you’d automatically gain it as you were marrying a japanese citizen.

“... and what about the surnames? have you decided how you want to deal with them?”

your answer was quick and full of pride.

“i’ll be taking his; my previous one can be disregarded completely.”

atsumu squeezed your hand, from where your intertwined fingers were resting on his thigh. you turned to him with a dashing smile.

the two of you signed the documents, then the employee did the same and handed you your papers and the certificate.

“you will receive your new passport and documents in five days, directly at home. just make sure to give the courier this paper once he arrives.”

you both thanked the man and left the office, still hand in hand. atsumu was holding the tote bag containing all the papers as you made your way back to his motorcycle; then he looked down at you, pulling you in for a side hug.

“hi, ms miya.”

“hi, mr miya.” 

before going to dinner in a nice ramenya, the setter insisted on stopping by the jewellery shop where he had your necklace made. the old owner recognized immediately the delicate piece you were wearing around your neck, and was very pleased to know you’d never removed it for three years straight and it still didn’t show signs of wear. 

“so, what brings you youngsters here today?”

“we’d like to purchase a set of wedding rings. the simplest you have, in platinum, sizes xs and m.”

with a happy look on his face, the man went to the back of the store and came out a few moments later holding a small box in his hand. upon showing it to you, it was clear that was exactly what you were looking for.

you ended up exchanging your vows and rings in a secluded booth at the restaurant, a fuming bowl of ramen in front of you, ready to be shared, like the rest of your lives.

thanks to the friendship hinata had with kenma, you started working as a game designer for bouncing ball, albeit remotely from home. mama miya almost fainted when you both shared the news of your wedding that weekend at onigiri miya — the shop had been close for the day, allowing a gran reunion between the msby team and some of their friends. everyone was delighted to finally meet you in person, knowing that this was probably the beginning of weekly meetings all together.

that year atsumu and other msby members got drafted to be part of the olympic team. and when they won gold, your relationship became public: you launched yourself off the bleachers of the olympic stadium of tokyo, ready to jump into the waiting arms of your husband. and at that point all the world could see the red ink embedded on both your left wrists, as well as the shining bands adorning your ring fingers.

JUST TAKE IT SLOW, ONE DAY AT A TIME

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honorable mentions

@arquitecturadelanada | @bagladyk | @cup-of-fluff | @kyopmi | @ohtokki

taglist

@alienvarmint | @hai1q | @mommyourcall420 | @natriae | @opalloveworld | @voidshoutsback

© giuliadesu. please do not copy, translate, use in videos or reupload on other platforms and sites. it is strictly forbidden to feed any part of my content to ai.

[mikefaistslut]

anything for you

chapter 1:

(A mike faist fanfic set in spring 2023, as mike is headed to london for the summer to star in Brokeback Mountain. He meets a girl on the plane there, Emma. He falls in love with Emma instantly. Read more to see how their story unfolds. <3)

Disclaimer: this is entirely a work a fiction and has nothing whatsoever to actually do with mike faist.

Rolling out of bed at what I thought was around six in the morning, I began to get dressed and prepare myself for how anxious the airport was going to make me. I’d never been a good flier, especially on flights that lasted longer than a couple of hours. Today, I was set to leave on a 9 hour and 50 minute flight from Columbus, Ohio to London at 10am. This trip was my gift to myself. I’d always wanted to go to London and do every lame tourist activity that I’d always seen in the movies. I wanted to stand outside the gates at Buckingham Palace, attend a service at Westminster Abbey, take a ride on the London Eye, maybe even fall in love with an adorable English man and never go back home to Ohio. I’d been saving for this trip since I got my first job at fifteen. I’d imagine what it felt like to walk through Hyde Park and see a play on the west end while I scooped an ungodly amount of ice cream for strangers.

The hardest part is surviving the flight there. I made sure to get up insanely early and have some me-time before the flight to try and relax myself as much as possible. After fixing myself a cup of coffee and scrolling through my phone for a solid 15 minutes or so, I decided to take a hot shower. This would be an everything shower, seeing that there's no way I could bring along my arsenal of bath products. But I let myself take it slow. After I finished washing and conditioning my hair, I shaved, scrubbed, and exfoliated every inch of my body. I loved the way it felt to be clean and smooth. Especially clean. I had to be clean to feel like my best self and I had to feel like my best self to be relaxed enough to not have an absolute meltdown on this almost ten hour flight I was scheduled to be on. 

By 7:30, I was all ready to go with an uber waiting outside to take me to the airport. I had two weeks worth of clothes, my favorite blanket and pillow in my carry-on, and most importantly, my anti-anxiety medication for when I inevitably begin to panic as soon as the plane door shuts. I was anxious, but also so overwhelmingly excited. I wasn’t going to let my anxiety stand in the way of the trip I’ve been fantasizing about for almost ten years. Not when I was so close. 

Flying wasn’t a new experience to me. There’d been plenty of times when I was a kid that I went on flights with my family, mostly to visit my grandparents in Florida. But this was different. This was around the world. Flying to London also meant going through customs, which was an entirely foreign concept to me. But I was there and I was ready. First things first, I thought to myself as I made my way to my gate after going through TSA, a snack. I bought a latte and a ridiculously overpriced bag of chips and made my way back to my gate to get comfortable. I still had about 30 minutes until my flight was supposed to begin boarding, so I put on my headphones and played some soft music on my phone. Everything was going to be okay, I kept telling myself. It is so incredibly unlikely that my plane is going to crash, I just need to keep myself distracted and everything will be just fine. 

Those 30 minutes went by faster than I expected, and it was time to board. I gathered my things and made my way to the gate. 

“Excuse me! I think you left this behind.” I turned around to the most beautiful face I think I’ve ever seen. Beautiful blue eyes, thin, almond-shaped eyes and a jawline that was so perfectly sculpted. In a hurry to board, I’d left behind my carry-on bag that contained all my essentials. Phone charger, comfort pillow and blanket and anti-anxiety meds. 

“Oh, thank you so much!” And then I thought about it. “How’d you know it was mine?” I asked the handsome stranger. 

“Oh, it just seems to match the rest of your luggage, I guess.” I had a sense that he’d maybe looked my way a couple of times while also waiting to board the plane. Even if I was being totally delusional, it was a nice confidence boost to assume that’s what happened. 

“Right! Well thank you. You boarding this flight too?” 

“Yeah, actually. After you.” He motioned in the direction of the gate attendant waiting patiently for us both to present our boarding pass and board the plane. Without looking behind me, I walked past the gate and down the long hallway to board the plane into business class to find my seat. I splurged a little and went one step past economy class. I had a lot of time to plan and save, you see. As I settled into my seat, I popped an anti-anxiety pill immediately. If I needed to later, I was also going to take a sleeping pill to hopefully make the flight go as fast as possible. As I was taking my pillow and blanket out of my bag to get comfy and settle in for the long plane ride ahead of me, I looked up to see that gorgeous stranger again. 

“Looks like we’ll be getting to know each other a little better.” He smiles as he sits down in the seat right next to mine. He’s so close I can smell his expensive cologne and I wonder how I got so lucky. 

“I’m Mike, by the way.”

[imaginespazzi]

NIVIIII!!!! Oh my GOD. I always think about how much I love GH and I genuinely reread chapters quite often, but whenever a new chapter comes out, I get BLASTED by dopamine and feel so thankful for you and this amazing story 😭 but ANYWAYS, chapter 12 thoughts below:

- okay so I am reading this in the middle of the night LOL, but can you explain the Tristian timeline again? So Azzi tries to win Paige back, but then sees Paige with Olivia. After that, does she fly home and have her 1 night stand with Tristian (and then get pregnant obvs)? But there you mentioned something about Azzi finally calling Tristian a month later, but this is for when they set up the dinner and Azzi tells him she’s preggo right? Idk, if you can just explain the timeline I’d appreciate it 🤣🤣

- the scene of Paige and Stephie fighting killedddd me. I cried LOL. I just thought about Drew in the background just feeling so out of place and guilty as he watches what’s going them between P, A, and Stephie LOL

- fuckkkk I can’t imagine how Azzi was feeling when she saw Paige with Olivia for the first time. A seeing how P used to interact with her, but now it’s with someone else 😭😭

- Azzi getting choosing to keep the baby bc she saw that Olivia and Paige are engaged?? LMFAOOO girl was down soooo bad. Jk, I can see how having your own CHILD can make you feel not alone, but damn Azzi went for drastic measures there LOL

- is Olivia like Azzi? Like does Olivia and Azzi have the same personality? Is Olivia a light skin baddie and hats why Paige fell for her? I’m assuming yes to both of these questions and Paige was just projecting Azzi onto Olivia…?

- I know that this part made the story sadder and have more angst, but I am SOOOOO glad that you wrote Paige as having a backbone and not cracking immediately again and saying that she’ll stay for Azzi (and Stephie). Like I’m glad Paige is standing up for herself and thinking about everything and mostly importantly about herself, instead of just choosing Azzi and choosing to stay for Azzi.

- Paige wanting to say I love you to Azzi, but her also stuttering and Azzi not letting her say it until she knows that she wants to stay?? I think this was huge, like obvs their first I love you moment to each other should be big and not like after a big fight/used as a cop out

- I genuinely wonder how the next chapter is gonna go. Like there are so many things that are uncertain rn. Will Paige trust Azzi? Will Azzi trust Paige? Ig we’ll eventually find out (and see if Nivi wants to hurt as Pazzi hearts or not) 😭😭

This ask is plenty long already… so I’ll end it here. But thanks in advance for the response Nivi and for clarifying the timeline with Tristian/when Azzi gets pregnant! Thanks also for your amazing writing and for feeding our Pazzi hearts. Even though this was a sadder chapter, but was still so so good and personally made me feel happier about that Azzi injury news we learned about today 😞 I just want to see Azzi healthy and hooping!! But she’ll be back soon. 🫶

Awwwwww yayyy love providing a dopamine boost because y'all reviews provide me with a serotonin one fr fr!

- You pretty much have the timeline down lovie but yeah it's basically, Azzi sees Paige and Olivia, she goes back to SF that same night and then goes to the bar straight from the airport and has her one night stand. About a week or two later, she has a pre-season check-up and that's where she finds out she's pregnant (probably because of a blood test) and then it takes her another week or two to finally call Tristan (denial and decision) and then probably a day or two after that, they finally meet. So that's why it takes her a month to call Tristan, does that make sense?

- I lowkey had no clue what do with Drew in that scene so he's just there I guess lmao?

- It was a ROUGH 48 hours or so for Azzi, let's just say that lol

- Girl chose the most dramatic, life-changing way to get rid of her loneliness but I guess when life gives you a door to get rid of your problems, you walk through it amirite?

- Olivia is up to y'alls imagination. Someone once said they pictured Samantha Logan and ever since then, that's also what I've been picturing. But I don't necessarily think Olivia and Azzi are very similar personality-wise because I think Paige was looking for something completely different that didn't remind her of the past.

- Paige needs to choose to stay for herself above anything else. It's the only way she won't regret it or resent the decision.

- Yeah an I love you is not a band-aid to put on a fight, especially one their entire relationship is sort of hinging on and it needs to come from a place that isn't desperation.

- Next chapter will be fun!