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that-damn-girl · 3 years ago

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(7) Daze of Pollen

(Work in Progress - 7 of 8; slow updates)

Chapter 6

Daze of Pollen Masterlist

Pairing: (cis)fem!Reader x Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x

Words: 2500+

Warnings: Smut. 18+ only please. Sex pollen. M/M smut. Dirty talk. Slight dom/sub undertones. A sprinkle of daddy kink. Another sprinkle of degradation and praise kink. First time anal. Unprotected sex (This is only fiction. Please stay safe irl). Rough sex. Slight Choking. Fingering and hand jobs. Voyeurism. Very little bondage(only the hands).

Summary: Bucky, Steve, Sam and you are in the safe house post mission when a retrieved Hydra device activates, releasing a kind of pollen you don’t know of, but the effects of which are soon discovered.

A/N: It’s time for some stucky! Hope you like this part!

Since size kink was in demand it’s a personal favorite of mine, it’s gonna be kinda constant throughout the fic. So the reader is short in height only. For rest of the part, I’ve tried my best to stay neutral.

I’m taking requests if you want a particular kink to be featured. Send me an ask or text me. I’ve been saving most of the requests for the last part, so if you haven’t seen your request included until now, then please have some patience.

P.S. this chapter is also going to be kinda heavy on m/m smut. I understand if you support the lgbtqia+ community but don’t particularly enjoy m/m smut - it’s your preference of what you enjoy and it’s perfectly fine. But if you’re a homophobe, get the fuck off my blog. And if you’re anti-stucky, then don’t read this.

Climbing on the bed, Sam all but dropped on his back with a dramatic huff. His arms were splayed out by his sides, and eyes shut closed. Three continuous orgasms later, along with a few from earlier in the night, Sam was truly exhausted now. He didn’t even know he could come as many times as he did on the same night. Perhaps it was the pollen, perhaps the company. All he knew was that he could have slept like a baby, the world be damned.

There was something though, stopping him from getting the rest he needed. He did feel tired to his bones, making him a little sleepy as well, but there was this unusual rush in his veins that stopped him from getting calm enough to sleep.

Okay yeah, now that was definitely the pollen.

Regardless, Sam kept his eyes firmly shut and tried to sleep once again.He abandoned all the thoughts running around in his head and focused only on the deep breaths he took. He tried, he really tried, but he couldn't ignore his slowly hardening length. Despite himself, his mind wandered to all the naughty things he saw, did, and were done to him by his friends. How could he not get hard thinking about the wonderful time he had?

And just like that, he wasn't feeling sleepy anymore. A little exhausted,yes - well more like a little out of breath than exhausted, but not sleepy. He figured it wasn't worth it anymore, forcing himself to sleep when all he could think about the sex gods and goddess his friends were.

So, listening to his dick, he opened his eyes to take a look around an-

Holy fucking shit!

Sam didn't know why he was surprised. After all, it was him and Steve doing the same thing a few minutes ago. But he just was that. Surprised.

Steve had a bulging arm clasped around Bucky's waist, while the other arm curled around his shoulder. Steve's fingers firmly gripped the back of Bucky's neck, keeping him in place as the blond greedily devoured his friend's lips. The kiss was nothing short of rough and ferocious, wet and heated, and looked so fucking hot, Sam didn't know if he was jealous of Steve or Bucky, or both.

Lost in the marvelous view in front of him, it took Sam a moment to take notice of your hand that creeped up and thighs and loosely gripped his half hard cock.When he did, he let out a surprised gasp as his head jerked towards you with a start.

Oh, was it such a beautiful view too! You looked like an angel. Sure, a dirty little angel with her legs spread wide open and a hand between them, playing with your sweet little button; but an angel nonetheless. Their angel

Your eyes were fixated on the duo in front of you, bottom lip caught in between your teeth, fingers hard at work between your legs.

His eyes followed the shiny bead of sweat that dripped down your taut neck , through your collar and in between the valley of your breasts. Sam couldn't help but bite his own lip as well. You looked so tempting, right there, bold in your demand and unashamed, all his for the taking.

What was better was that you had your free hand wrapped around his cock, which was once again desperate for attention at this point. Even with your eyes trained on them, the pace you had set didn't falter. Sam groaned, dead dipping back. He wondered what he had done to deserve such a good time, all so he could do it once again.

Sam stacked up some fluffy pillows behind you and him to properly rest on. Not before long, replacing yours, his fingers had found a warm home between your legs. The two of you worked on the other, but your eyes hungrily took in the view the two men in front of you presented. Each and every movement, each and every moan.

Steve was grinding hard against Bucky as they loudly kissed. The bittersweet taste of Sam's release was still there on his tongue. It only made everything better.

Breaking the kiss a few heated moments later, he kept one hand on the back of Bucky's neck, bringing their foreheads together. Bucky let out a gasp when the other hand snaked down his sides to grip both their cocks together.

As Steve started jerking their cocks together, Bucky let out inevitable moans, Steve following suit. Bucky's hands were perched Steve's bicep for support, his eyes closing of their own accord, his head lost in the waves of pleasure that Steve brought him.

"Fuck- Bucky, look at me," When Bucky didn't, Steve growled. "Baby, look at me. Now!"

Something in Bucky had been crawling to listen to everything that Steve demanded of him, so he did.

"Just- Mm fuck, you're perfect, you know that baby? You know that, don't you?"

Bucky could only whimper in response when he saw such sincerity behind Steve lust filled eyes.

"Mhmm, that's right, Bucky. You're perfect." Steve breathed. "That body of yours… I just love it.. I could caress it, kiss it, please it and make it shiver all over me and for me all fucking day, sweetheart."

Steve smirked when Bucky went a little weak in the knees, and he had to strengthen his hold on his friend to keep them stable.

"You like to hear how I can fuck you all day, hmm, what you do to me? You like to know how hard you make me?"

Bucky mumbled his agreement in between restrained moans as Steve increased his pace, jerking both their hard cocks in one fist, rubbing them against each other. The pressure built and built until eventually, they were tipped over the edge.

With heavy grunts, they came in spurts. It was a messy affair. Some of their cum landed on the floor, some on their lower abs. All mixed together, indistinguishable. Without wasting a second, Steve swiped some cum from Bucky's abdomen and licked it off his fingers, sighing heavenly at the taste.

Before Bucky could gather his head around what he was seeing, Steve grabbed him and turned him around in one quick motion. Slotting himself firmly against Bucky's back, Steve rutted his half hard length into him, his hands gripping Bucky's hips tight enough to leave marks.

Bucky faced you and Sam on the bed, as he and Steve stood at the foot of it. His eyes had gone from one mind boggling, exceptionally hot scene to another. He saw you and Sam lying on your backs, bodies slightly curved towards each other, hands steadily working on the other to bring them to the glorious finish line that the pollen wanted.

Sam fingered you with his two long, thick fingers as the heel of his palm massaged your clit. All the while you fisted Sam's angry cock, lip caught between your teeth and brows furrowed. Though you pleasured the other, the two of you were looking at him and Steve with lust blown eyes. As if the view in front of him and Stevie rutted his hardening cock against his ass wasn't arousing enough, Steve huskily whispered in his ears from behind.

“My Bucky,” Steve kissed the sweet spot beneath his ear. "You can’t say no to me, can you, baby?" Bucky tilted his head to give him more space. "You’re going to let me do anything I want to you, aren’t you?"

“Yes, Stevie,”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

Spitting on his thumb, Steve started to work on Bucky. Just like he did with Sam, Steve prepped Bucky with sweet encouraging words and gentle movements. It was a little painful and something entirely new for Bucky, but with some patience Bucky was more than ready. The circling of his thumb inside Steve was something Bucky soon started enjoying. Maybe it was the pollen, maybe it was just his Stevie. So, when Steve asked him the next question, he nodded immediately.

"I need you to be good for me, can you do that, baby?"

With Bucky's eager nodding, Steve gripped his cock at the base with one hand while the other stretched his ass-cheek. Very slowly and with care, Steve pushed into him.

When Bucky grunted in discomfort, Steve halted and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. His free hand fisted Bucky's length, twisting with flexible wrist movements as he did so, to divert his attention from the pain. It worked very well. When Bucky was distracted enough, Steve tried to push in again. Inch by inch, very patiently, until he was all the way in.

Steve moaned, loving how tightly Bucky enveloped him, loving the heat that surrounded him. He set a slow pace at first, bucking his hips into Bucky. While he jerked Bucky off with one hand, his other hand travelled to Bucky's neck, curling his fingers around him and pulling Bucky closer to himself.

As Bucky got used to it, Steve gradually increased the pace. "You're doing so good for me, doll." He grunted. "You're gonna milk my cock so good. Gonna fill you to the brim with my cum, Bucky."

At first, Steve was pleased by Bucky's moans. So lost in how good Bucky felt, it took him a while to notice how Bucky was hungrily looking at you and Sam, and that made him not so pleased. He had to admit that you and Sam did look oh so delicious as you pleasured the other. But when Steve fucked, he needed all their attention to himself. Their heart, their body, and their soul. Bucky was no exception.

Giving up stroking Bucky's cock was not an option. The hand that was wrapped against Bucky's neck grabbed his jaw instantly, turning his head towards Steve. His gaze hardened as he looked at Bucky, his hips fucking him a little roughly.

"Look at me while I fuck your tight little ass and tell you how I’m going to fill you with my cum. Do you understand?"

Their stance with Bucky's curved body was somewhat awkward, so without letting go of his cock or his jaw, Steve adjusted them until it wasn't.

"I asked you something, Buck." He accompanied it with a particular hard thrust. "And I expect an answer."

"Fuck- yeah- I do! I understand Steve. Fuck, please don't stop."

"That's the last thing you gotta worry about, doll."

And with that, Steve set a faster, harder pace. His sweat slicked body brushed against Bucky's with every thrust. He couldn't reach Bucky's lips in that position, not without the risk of hurting Bucky or himself first. So, he settled for his defined jaw and his cheeks, and anywhere else that he could reach. He littered Bucky's skin with rough but kisses on top of kisses, and then some more.

His eyes did close on their own sometimes, relishing in this feeling that he shared with his best mate at that moment. But when Steve would open his eyes and he'd look into Bucky's unashamed.

When he was sure Bucky wouldn't turn his gaze away from him, Steve let go of his jaw to cup his neck again. He only applied the slightest of pressure when he felt Bucky's ass tightly clench his cock. He couldn't stop himself from grinning as wide as he did. He probably looked like a lunatic at that moment, but he didn't care.

"You look so pretty with my strong hands around your throat, doll. But can you last? Can you cum all over Daddy's hard cock while he squeezes your pretty throat? Or will my sweet boy get too fuzzy?"

"Can you last, Stevie?"

"What was that, hmm?"

Bucky smirked. "I feel so tight, don't I? My ass is such a snuggly fir for your cock, isn't it? You can't possibly tell me that you're not close yourself. Because I am." He breathed, "You fuck me so good, Stevie. I'm so fucking close!"

Bucky smirked mischievously as he licked his lips. "You know, all I gotta do is squeeze, right? I can clench my ass and milk your cock, squeeze every last drop of that righteous cum till the very last drop, Rogers."

"You jerk," Steve groaned in between heavy breaths and hard thrusts.

"Punk."

Something in Steve flipped. He wanted- no, he needed to fuck that attitude out of Bucky. So, he did just that.

Tightening the grip on his neck only so slightly, Steve started rocking into Bucky with everything he had. With the effort he was putting in, he grunted loudly with each thrust, but didn't back down. He knew he couldn't rest until he gave Bucky a mind-numbing, earth shattering orgasm.

Steve fisted Bucky's cock with every trick he knew in the book. He tugged at ever so slightly and ran his thumb over Bucky's sensitive head every now and then. His wrist flexed this way and that with every upward and downward motion. He didn't leave any stone unturned.

With all his efforts combined, it didn't take Bucky long to be tipped over the edge. Steve wasn't far behind. With deep moans that sounded way too sexy to even exist, they came. Bucky spilled himself on the bed, making an even bigger mess. Steve released himself inside Bucky with half-willed thrusts, completely lost in the pleasure that was Bucky.

Seeing the two men finish, with looks of pure bliss on their faces, it drew you and Sam very close to the tipping point. With how good Sam was fingering you and massaging your clit with his palm, you couldn't hold back anymore. You came on his fingers with breathing moans and shaky legs as Sam spilled, just like Bucky, on himself and the bed, creating yet another mess.

Ignoring all of it though, Bucky collapsed on the bed near Sam, while Steve side-stepped him and crawled on top of you like a predator, with every intention to devour you.

“Hey baby,” Steve said, letting his eyes gaze at your short frame underneath him, especially how your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths along with your breasts. He thought it was really cute and sexy at the same time.

“You did so well there, handsome,” You said, bringing one hand to play with the back of his neck. Your legs moved to slowly warp around his taller frame. “You ready to do that to me?”

“You want to be fucked hard too, doll? Mhmm, is that it?”

“Yes, Steve! I want you to fuck me so good! Please!”

Before Steve had the chance to rejoice in the begging he heard for his cock, you quickly disbalanced him from one side and used your training to flip him on his back. As you straddled him, without giving him the chance to recover from the surprise, you grabbed both his wrists and tied his hands to the headboard using the same tie he had tied you earlier with.

“Or maybe I’ll just take what I want. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You smirked.

Sam and Bucky snickered on your side.

“Mm lets see if you are ready to play with me, Daddy,” you continued.

Steve smirked right back at you, a little dumbfounded, angry and aroused at the same time. ”Oh, I’m going to enjoy making you behave, you little slut.”

Blog’s Main Masterlist || Tag lists

I’m taking requests if you want a particular kink to be featured. Send me an ask or text me for the same or to be tagged.

Thank you for reading!

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yutanology · 3 years ago

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Kids (Prologue)| NCT Dream × Fem!Reader

Warning : cliche, a few cusses, little fluff, possessiveness, NCT Dream being bratty and stubborn. No proofread :(

Synopsis : Y/n somehow ended up helping Mark babysit his stepbrothers for the weekend. That two days of babysitting soon turned into frequent days of her visiting them as they would throw a fit if she wouldn't. When she thought everything would be fine soon, it only became worse as time passed by.

Take note that Mark and Y/n are at the same age(15). 00 line are 7 while Chenle is 6 and Jisung is 5.

"Vroom! Vroom! Vrooom!" Jisung said loudly through his pouted lips. He was sitting on his big toy car, imitating the roaring machine of an actual car.

Behind him was Chenle pushing him on all sides of the wide nursery room to make Jisung feel like he's really driving the car. The younger kid raised both his hands up, enjoying the ride and the room was filled with their cute giggles.

"Hey, slow down. You might get hurt—" Mark immediately cut his own words, replacing it with a loud yelp when the wheels of the car they were riding ran on his toes. "Ahhh!" he instinctively crouched down to hold his toes that were now throbbing in pain.

The duo didn't even bother to look back at him and ask if he's okay cuz they're too entertained to even notice his suffering.

"Y/n, help!" he called out for the female who just entered the room carrying a very hyper Haechan on her arms that she chased around the house for almost half an hour so she could get him to wear his pants.

She had such a great time giving him a bath. Haechan splashed water on her clothes, saying that he wanted her to join him on his bubble bath. Ending him getting her hoodie soaked wet (she took it off and let it dry), thankfully, her shirt was safe.

He wanted to play with her all the time. He doesn't want her to take a break even for a damn minute and he never ran out of some things he'd like to say. Either he makes sense or not, he doesn't care.

She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be enjoying her time alone at home while it's still weekend but here she is, babysitting her friend's stepbrothers. It just so happened that she met Mark's parents when both of them walked home together yesterday from school.

They had a little chitchat and eventually got along. Then that's when they asked her a favor to help Mark take care of his stepbrothers during the weekend as they won't be able to keep an eye on them because of their busy schedules.

She was about to decline until she heard that they're going to pay her a fair price. Yup, she needed money that's why she agreed with them. Her family is not as rich as the Lees so she can't always get the things she wanted to buy. So in order to be able to, she had to work for it. She got her parent's permission that night, letting her do what she wanted.

"Why? What happened?" she asked Mark, trying to keep Haechan still or he'll fall down but she decided to put his feet on the floor. "Nooo! Carry me! Carry me!" Haechan whined, holding his arms up to her.

She tiredly sighed, picking him up again. She knew the last thing to do to him is to make him upset. He'd cry nonstop and would totally be mad at everyone. She didn't want that. Things would be harder to handle than it already is right now.

"My toes freaking hurt! I don't think I'll be able to stand up." He over exaggerated.

Y/n approached him to check if he's alright then found his toes flamming red. "Oh god, uhm, I'll go get some ice or something. I don't know how to treat that but I hope it would help." she rushed to the kitchen with Haechan still on her arms.

Opening the top of the fridge, she saw an ice pack. She grabbed it and was about to close the fridge when Haechan spotted the fruit popsicles. "I want that." he pointed at the sweet treats that caught his attention.

She reached the first popsicle, "I don't like that. I want the strawberry." then she gave him one. He better not have cavities for eating too much sweets or else she'd be blamed for it.

She helped him get rid of the plastic wrapper, throwing it on the trash bin before letting him eat the fruit popsicle. His eyes almost literally twinkled once the cold strawberry treat touched his tongue. At least, he's happy now.

They both went back to the room, handing Mark the ice pack to help it ease the pain on his poor toes. "Thanks." Mark sighed and she nodded, sitting beside him on the sofa but their eyes are still on the kids just to make sure they're okay.

"Where are your maids? Aren't they supposed to be helping us here?"

"They all went home to their families. Only our cook and our driver are the only workers left here." That explains why she didn't bump into someone else in this house.

Renjun was not so far from them. He's quietly sitting on the carpeted floor attaching puzzle pieces together, focusing on completing the picture into whole. Despite the whole chaos going on around him, he somehow found peace on the corner of the room.

Well, not until he found out that Jeno was chewing on the other puzzle pieces. He's been trying to look at the missing items on his puzzle only to find out that they're with Jeno all the time.

The two kids fought. Renjun was huffing mad while Jeno was crying. Even though he already said sorry, Renjun doesn't seem to forgive him anytime soon for ruining his puzzle that he worked on for hours since this morning.

Mark limped his way to Jeno to calm him down and Y/n took care of Renjun (and Haechan, of course). She was in the middle of a conversation with Renjun when she felt a tug on her shirt.

Looking down, she saw a sleepy Jaemin rubbing his eyes. "I'm sleepy." he said. He must've been worn out from joining Haechan at every trouble he initiated.

"Oh, wait a second." she told him, he silently nodded.

"Haechan, can you please sit here with Renjun for a while?" she carefully put him beside the said boy.

"Huh? But why? Where are you going?" he asked her after he took out the popsicle out of his mouth.

She lifted Jaemin on her arms this time which Haechan frowned at. "I'll just go take him to his room. I'll be back, I promise." She waited him to say something but he stayed silent, glaring at the boy playing her hair, completely unaware of the piercing gaze of his stepbrother.

"Uhm, we'll go now..." she awkwardly informed him before making her way out of the room for the nth time of the day. This time, she's the one unaware of Jaemin sticking his tongue at Haechan to tease him. Before he could stomp his way to him, Y/n was already out of the room with Jaemin, leaving both Renjun and Haechan angry of different reasons.

Throughout the whole time she carried Jaemin to his room, he continued to play with her hair. Twirling silky strands of her hair on his small fingers, droopy eyes slowly closing and his head weighed on her shoulder.

Assuming that he fell asleep, Y/n could only sigh in relief that one of the most chaotic step brothers finally took his rest. After climbing a few more flight of stairs, she reached his room at last. The whole mansion is too big for her liking but she's not the one living here so she can't have something to say to it.

She pushed the door open, laying Jaemin on his queen sized bed then she covered half of his body with his comforters. "Sleep well, Jaemin." she kissed his forehead before she left him and he slept with a smile adorning his lips.

"What took you so long?" Haechan immediately asked her, arms crossed on his chest and his brows still furrowed together. "Haechan, you know how far Jaemin's room is from here. Come on, stop being sulky. I'm already here."

She glanced at Mark reading a book for Jisung, Chenle and Jeno on the table. "Why don't you join them?" Haechan shook his head. "Because I don't want to."

"Aren't you going to take your afternoon nap too?"

"No."

"What about—" he didn't let her finish her words as he stood up and stomped away out of the nursery room. He left her there confused. Renjun who had finally cooled off his anger approached her.

"He's mad at you."

Y/n looked down at him. "I just tucked Jaemin to sleep. Why'd he gotta make a big deal about it?" she asked as if she's talking to herself. Renjun knew the answer but didn't blurt out anything about it instead he held her hand.

"Can we go pick flowers on the garden?" she smiled at him with a nod. "Yeah, sure. Let's go."

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tacticaldiary · 4 years ago

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Hi! I love your writing! 💕 I was wondering if I could request a Kageyama x reader where he accidentally neglects the reader and says something overly harsh, but with a happy ending.

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Here it is! :)

Unintentional Neglect

Pairing: Reader x Kageyama Tobio

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

He doesn’t realise how wrapped up in the world he’s gotten. Now he realises that he’s been neglecting the one thing he calls his world.

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The quiet click of the door shutting pulls back Y/N from the brink of sleep. Sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she turns towards the door and frowns slowly when she sees him. Leaning back on the couch, she waits for him to enter the living room and spot her.

Kageyama slips off his shoes and glances at the clock. 11 pm. Running a hand through his sweaty hair, he walks into the living room, a little surprised to see Y/N awake, looking at him expectantly.

“You didn’t check your phone?” She asks quietly, a little upset that he hadn’t even greeted her.

He shakes his head and pulls his phone out of his pocket. The screen lights up and his eyes widen a little as he sees the missed calls and text messages. They had started at 6 pm. “I was busy. Can’t really check my phone at practise.”

“Practise ended at 5, Tobio.” She shakes her head. He had forgotten. “You said you would be here...you forgot, didn’t you?”

“Forgot?” He asks half-heartedly, moving to place his bag next to one of the tables. He was exhausted, honestly. He had been wrapped up in volleyball for the past several hours, having been practising a new technique with Hinata. He doesn’t recall forgetting anything.

“Yes, forgot. You know how excited I was about this.” She stands up and grabs two rectangular pieces of paper from the table. Moving over to him, he holds them out for him to see. Concert tickets. Y/N had been looking forward to this for months. To think that Kageyama had just...forgotten stung a lot. They hadn’t been seeing each other a lot for the past week, since he was practicing late at night. There had been several occasions where she had to fall asleep and wake up without him. As if he was never there. No one could blame her for starting to feel lonely.

Y/N understood what she was getting herself into when they started dating, she knew volleyball was a priority for him, but she thought that after their whole 3 years of dating, she would hold some importance to him. More than this.

He’s confused for a second, before he spots the tickets. He immediately feels guilty. Y/N would understand, right? She had never complained before, why would she start now? He sighs, tiredly and shakes his head.

“It’s not a big deal, we can go next time.” He starts walking past her towards their shared room. “Next time?” His dismissal, as if she was overreacting pisses her off. She moves in front of him, blocking his path so he stops in his tracks. He looks at her with an annoyed expression, as if he had been the one to wait up for him. Like he was the one who had spent hours convincing himself that his partner hadn’t forgotten and was just running late. As if he was the one feeling neglected. “Don’t brush this off, Tobio.” A small scowl graces her face. “I waited for you, for hours, but you never showed up!” “Y/N...just-stop.” he brings a hand up to his temple. He really wasn’t in the mood to argue. He just wanted to take a shower and slip into bed and sleep.

“No! I haven’t seen you at all in the past week and you know how excited I was for this! How could you just...forget?” “I just did. Get over it. It wasn’t anything important.” He snaps, bringing his hand down to his side and glaring at her. His reaction only makes her more furious. Why was he the one getting mad at her?

“That’s not the point!” She exclaims loudly. “You just- you’re so caught up in everything it just seems like you don’t have time for me anymore...”

“You know I have to practise and-” “I do know! I’m the one who waits up for you, who makes sure there’s something in the microwave if you’re hungry when you come home!” She raises her voice, frustrated. Tears prickle the corner of her eyes. “I’m the one who has to be alone and miss you and-”

“I never asked for you to do any of those things!” He raises his voice to overpower her’s, a scowl on his face. “Maybe if you weren’t so goddamn clingy all the time, you would be fine!” He yells.

There's a beat of silence. “I’m not-” her voice is quieter.

“You are- you don’t have to be with me 24/7, Y/N. You’re acting like you’ll die if you don’t have my attention for a few hours. It’s pathetic.” He scoffs, not thinking about what he’s actually saying. He’s tired and irritable and would rather be anywhere but here.

Silence. The silence is tense. After a few seconds, where both of them are trying to catch their breath, a ripping sound cuts through the emptiness. Y/N throws the pieces of the ticket at him and walks straight past him towards their room, leaving him alone, standing there.

Kageyama grits his teeth and shakes his head. He’s never been one to deal with situations like this calmly. It wasn’t a big deal.

Needless to say, when he steps into their room after showering, he’s shocked to see Y/N crying into her pillow, her small sniffles being muffled by the fabric. He was never good with handling people crying. A wave of guilt washes over him when he realises he's the cause of her tears. Moving over to sit on the other side of the bed, he reaches over and places a hand on her shoulder, to which Y/N tenses.

“Forget it.” She says, before he can. Her voice is hollow and bitter and it makes him nearly wince. “I get it. I’ll try not to be so overbearing.”

There’s silence, then she hears the bed creak as he lays down and tugs on her shoulder to roll her over to face him. She sighs and lets him, letting out a small squeak of surprise when he pulls her into his chest.

“I’m sorry for yelling...and forgetting.” he mutters into her hair, to which she nods quietly. Having time to think about it, he feels like shit for making her cry and acting like he did, but he can’t think properly right now, sleep clouding his mind. They’re both pulled to unconsciousness a few quiet minutes later.

When Kageyama wakes up, Y/N is gone. It’s the weekend, so they usually slept in late and woke up together, so he was a little confused.

When he walks into the kitchen, he sees Y/n drinking a cup of coffee at the dining table, scrolling through her phone. She greets him with a smile, but makes no move towards him.

“Good morning!” She says in her usual morning chipper voice.

“Morning.” He yawns, moving to get his own cup of caffeine.

They had agreed to meet a couple of their friends for lunch that day...and Kageyama could not be more frustrated throughout the whole outing. It had started in the car, when he parked in the parking lot and leaned over to steal a kiss from Y/N, who promptly leaned away and got out of the car. Frowning, he had brushed it off and followed suit. She hadn’t held his hand or looped an arm around his like she usually did.

Then, instead of slipping into the seat next to him like she usually would, Y/N had opted to sit next to Tsukishima of all people. She had barely acknowledged him the whole time, shooting him the occasional glance when he talked. When he leaned over to grab her hand, she had squeezed it once and let go quickly, snaking her hand in front of her instead. It was frustrating. It was like she was avoiding him on purpose.

The car ride back was silent, but them actually reaching home was even worse. Instead of pulling him to the couch to cuddle and maybe watch a movie like she usually did, Y/N immediately starts getting...ready?

“Where are you going?” he inquires, leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom, where she was fussing over her shirt.

“Out with some friends...to a concert.” She says the last part quietly. “They refunded my tickets and I didn’t have anyone to ask, so my friends offered to go with me.” she gives him a small smile.

“You could have asked me.” “I did.” She says a little too quickly, her eyes darting to meet his in the mirror she was looking in. “If you remember that-”

“I do-”

“-I didn’t want to assume you’d want to go with me.” She says simply grabbing her bag, and turning to look at him. She’d have to get past him to leave. Her statement catches his attention and he furrows his eyebrows.

“What? Why wouldn’t I want to go with you?”

She shrugs.

“Y/N...” He pushes himself off the doorframe. “You’ve been acting strange all day.” “Isn’t that what you wanted?” a small scowl creeps up her face.

“I-...What do you mean?” he frowns.

“Forget it.” she shakes her head, moving to get past him, but stops with a huff when he blocks her path.

“Why would I want you to act like that, act so...distant?”

“Tobio, it’s nothing, just drop it.”

“It’s obviously something. You’ve never pushed me away like this before-”

“It’s better than being clingy, isn’t it?” She finally exclaims. “You don’t get to complain now. Not when I’m trying to be better.”

“What are you talking about?” Suddenly, she wants to punch something, frustration bubbling up inside her. “You say you don’t like me being clingy, but then act like this and ask why I’m not doing what you told me not to do! Make up your mind, Tobio, because I’m not going to be ‘pathetic’ any longer.”

Pathetic? She wasn’t....shit. Last night’s conversation comes crashing back down on him.

He takes in a shaky breath. “You’re not pathetic, Y/N” he says quietly, to which Y/N shakes her head.

“Actually, according to you-”

“I’m sorry.” he blurts out, cutting her off. In three strides, he has his hands on her shoulders, looking at her with a certain urgency in his eyes. “I didn’t mean anything I said last night, I swear.” When she still looks dubious, he continues. “I was tired and-and irritated and I took it out on you and I apologise.”

He hates Y/N being this distant. He missed touching and hugging her. “I miss you.” he admits.

There’s a second of silence. “You do?”

“Obviously.” he scoffs a little. “Oh...I thought you’d be happier if I wasn’t there all the time.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” he pulls her into a hug to which she relaxes. “I apologise.”

She hums, not being used to him showing affection thi blatantly. It felt nice. “It just feels like...sometimes you don’t have time for me, that the your so caught up in everything that I don’t even matter anymore...”

His grip tightens. “I didn’t mean to neglect you like that. It won’t happen again, I promise.” He mumbles into her hair.

“It better not.” She says, sighing when they start to sway gently.

He would try his best to be there. For Y/N.

Requests are Open and Appreciated!

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dembenchboys · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t - Tyson Jost

AN: this has been in my notes for like 6-7 months now I hope you enjoy! It’s based if the song don’t by Ed Sheeran.

Warnings: cheating and a mention of sex nothing detailed at all.

Word count: 1.9k

I met this girl late last year

She said, “Don’t you worry if I disappear”

“Yes.” That's the response Layla whispered in Tyson’s ear after he asked her to spend the night with him. As he planted more open mouth kisses to her neck, Tyson could feel her breath quicken and her plus racing up.

Tyson wasn't expecting to be taken back by the stunning brunette with green eyes who he locked eye contact with as she was busy dancing in the corner with her girlfriends when he went to the local bar Monday night with the boys for a simple night of relaxing. When they bumped into one other at the counter and she introduced herself to him while grabbing a drink, he wasn't expecting his heart to race a little quicker. He hadn't expected to be bringing her home at the end of the night, yet here he was, holding her hand as they climbed into the car he had booked for them.

What Tyson really wasn't prepared for was the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he woke up to an empty bed and a piece of paper on his nightstand with only 11 numbers scribbled on it.

I told her I’m not really looking for another mistake

I called an old friend thinking that the trouble would wait.

Tyson realized he should've tossed the little letter away as soon as he got off the phone with JT who reminded him to think with his head and recommend throwing it away. But Tyson, on the other hand, was always one to follow his emotions rather than his mind or gut instincts. After all, he was known as a softy for a reason. His head was telling him that he should simply toss the paper away since it was just going to cause him misery. His emotions, on the other hand, were reminding him of how he felt last night when he made eye contact with her. They were reminding him of how his heart raced and how he felt a nervous pulse in his stomach for the first time in a long time.

So, four mornings after waking up to an empty bed, he decided to take the plunge and message her. He realized that texting her at 11:00 a.m. would not lead her to believe it was a booty call. Tyson opted to keep it short and sweet, only saying, "Hey, how are you?" And before he could back out, he sent the message, not realizing how drastically those four words would impact his year.

It was 10:45 p.m., according to the clock. Tyson had become increasingly nervous as Layla had yet to reply. He was thinking to himself, what if he had waited too long, what if she had just left the note out of kindness and didn't mean it? But his phone vibrated in his hand just as he was about to turn it off and put it away for the night. And there was a text message from Layla on his phone screen, saying, "I'm okay, what's up?" “Have you finally missed me enough to send a text?” Tyson felt the blood rush to his checks at that moment, as he hoped she didn't realize how long he had been waiting, but she did. Tyson decided to make up for the fact that he hadn't spoken to her in four days, so he spent the rest of the night getting to know the lovely woman he thought had a good heart.

But then I jumped right in a week later, returned

I reckon she was only looking for a lover to burn

Tyson decided to invite Layla over after about a week of talking with her through his phone and tossing the idea around in his head. He had all of the spare time in the world before heading to Alberta since the Avs season had just ended.

Tyson had discovered recently she was a CU Denver student. So when they agreed on a Saturday, Tyson realized she wouldn't have classes, so he wouldn't have to worry about her cancelling, but he was still worried that she wouldn't actually show up. When a soft knock came to his door around 1:00 p.m., those nerves faded.

When Tyson awoke to an empty bed on the Tuesday morning he was supposed to leave for home, he wasn't surprised. Tyson found himself going to bed with someone and waking up alone more often after that Saturday afternoon spent with Layla at his place.

Then I put it on pause until the moment was right

I went away for months until our paths crossed again

After waking up alone on that Tuesday morning when he had to leave, Tyson wanted to put some space between himself and the situation. Tyson knew that if he went down that particular road with Layla, his heart wouldn't be able to heal if anything bad happened. Tyson tried not to think about her during his time in Alberta, but it became more difficult with each passing day. Tyson found his feelings growing towards her each day. He found himself thinking about her at odd times throughout the day, hanging with his family? Layla. Sitting around the fire pit? Layla. in bed right before he closed his eyes? Layla. She was an addiction, the kind you get when you try a new treat and can't stop thinking about it.

Tyson promised himself he wouldn't message her again until he returned to Colorado, and he kept his word. He'd been back in the city for about three weeks before he decided to pick up where they'd left off.

She told me, "I was never looking for a friend

Maybe you could swing by my room around ten

Baby, bring the lemon and a bottle of gin

We'll be in between the sheets 'til the late AM"

After several late-night phone calls to catch up, Layla eventually told Tyson what this meant to her after he invited her to dinner. “Around 1:00 a.m. on a Monday morning, she muttered to him, "I'm more into the friends with benefits situation right now." Tyson was definitely devastated but he was willing to take whatever Layla had to offer.

Tyson was unprepared for the feeling he got when he glanced down at his phone after leaving JT’s apartment to see a text that said, "baby, I'm swinging by your place with a bottle." Tyson knew that meant he'd wake up alone in the morning, yet he didn't care at the time.

Tyson and Layla had been seeing each other more and more in recent weeks. Tyson’s feelings for Layla became stronger over time, but he never expressed them. He just loved her company, and if that meant getting lost in the sheets more often than not, so be it.

And for a couple weeks I only wanna see her

We drink away the days with a takeaway pizza

Tyson was in a slump, he wasn't producing on the ice as he wanted to, and the media was branding him a draft bust because of it. As a result, he found himself blocking others out, with the exception of one individual. Tyson discovered that Layla was the only one he truly wished to be with. She didn't mention hockey at all, because they could easily lose themselves in each other and block out the rest of the world. They'd eat as much takeout pizza as Tyson's diet permitted.

Yet something changed between them in those few weeks. Layla confessed to developing feelings for the curly-haired boy. As a result, they opted not to label what they were doing, but they did promise not to see other people. Not that Tyson was doing so before.

Wish I'd have written it down, the way that things played out

When she was kissing him, how I was confused about

Now she should figure it out.

Tyson should have known something was wrong when Layla started staying at school longer than usual, but he didn't think much of it, assuming it was just finals. Tyson should have known something was wrong because she took longer to respond to his text messages and began avoiding his phone calls, but he was so wrapped up in the feeling she gave him that he didn't notice. When Layla failed to pick him up from the airport on Sunday morning, Tyson should have known something was wrong, but he just convinced himself she slept in.

But two things happened when the car he ordered from the airport arrived in front of Layla's apartment and he saw her kissing the kid from her biology class: one, Tyson's heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach, and two, something clicked and everything made sense to him.

That afternoon, at Tysons' place, he had to have a conversation he would never forget .Layla explained that she genuinely wanted to be with him and that she was just messing around with Tyler, the name of the kid from biology, because she wanted to be official with Tyson. And in a relationship, she puts a significant importance on trust and respect.

So they agreed to become an official couple that day, and the eight weeks that followed were some of the happiest memories Tyson had managed to make.Tyson grew more and more in love with Layla with each passing day, and he indulged in it. He treasured the cuddles and long conversations late at night. Tyson was certain he was in love with Layla, or Ly as he began to refer to her. He was about to reveal her to the group of people in his life that he held in high regard: his teammates.

She was crying on my shoulder, I already told ya

Trust and respect is what we do this for

I never intended to be next

But you didn't need to take him to bed, that's all

And I never saw him as a threat

Until you disappeared with him to have sex, of course

Tyson wasn't expecting to see Layla on the sofa on top of Tyler from biology when he stepped into Layla's apartment on the morning of the 23rd, three days before their three-month anniversary, ready to celebrate because he'd be on the road. But that is precisely what he saw.

Layla didn't know she'd been caught until the beautiful white roses fell to the ground and the door slammed shut from behind her.

As the knock on Tyson's door rang through the silent apartment, Tyson knew that all that had occurred in the previous year, his best days, and the one person he could turn too would all be gone in less than 20 minutes.

Tyson had never expected to have a conversation like this one in his dark, relatively clean apartment. When Layla cried on his shoulder, he reminded her of their compromise on trust and respect, telling her, "If you were unhappy, you should have left, I never saw him as a threat, well, before you slept with him of course."

But after all of the screaming and pleading, Layla gathered her belongings and closed the door to Tyson's apartment; the sound that echoed in the house was almost close to Tyson's heart beating in his chest.

As Tyson came into the dressing room the next morning, feeling dishevelled, he grumbled to JT that he should have just thrown it out.

#tyson jost fanfiction #tyson jost x reader #tyson jost fic #tyson jost blurb #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost #colorado avalanche #avs #jt compher #nhl writing #nhl blurb #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl #my writing

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rkived · 4 years ago

Text

━ CHASING PAVEMENTS 03 | JJK

↳ PAIRING: dad!jk/married!jk/bff!jk x reader

↳ GENRE/TAGS: f2l, angst, unrequited feelings, cheating, future smut

↳ WARNINGS: (for this chapter) time jumps, mention of divorce, blood mention ((but like nothing serious)), forced kisses, just sad stuff like this is sad guys lol

↳ WORD COUNT: 8.6k

↳ EXCERPT: ‘‘Jungkook doesn’t want to think this is the end, maybe it’s that stupid voice inside his head that always holds on to things that he knows he should let go of. But he can’t just let go of this and move on. He doesn’t remember what life was like before you and he sure as hell does not want to know what it’ll be like without you.’’

↳ A/N: getting this chapter out has been ((a pain in the ass)) tough !! & cp was supposed to end with this chapter but that was not realistic at all lmao but i do hope u like this n i’ll try to get pt4 quickly as possible <3 thx

01 | 02 | 03 | 04

‘‘Okay everyone, let’s switch to the upward facing dog!’’

You really don’t want to be here. There’s a lot of stuff running through your head right now that are more important than focusing on yoga positions. You wish you were thinking about grocery shopping or paying that month’s bills.

Instead, you’re still stuck on the downward facing dog as your mind tells you you’re an idiot, a homewrecker and most importantly, a terrible friend.

‘‘Y/N, upward facing dog!’’ The instructor, Namjoon, reminds you with a gentle smile as he notices you haven’t switched positions like the rest of the class. You nod and smoothly place your body as he had taught in the classes before.

The only reason why you came to your Saturday morning yoga class was because even with all that happened last night, you wanted to feel a sense of normality. Like you’re capable of going on about your life like nothing had happened.

That’s selfish and stupid because as much as you tried, every single moment since you woke up revolved around last night.

From the moment you opened your eyes, noticing Sunhi wasn’t sleeping next to you, snuggled into your chest like you had last remembered her to be before she fell asleep and you following soon after.

And as your heart beat faster at the thought of finding her in her dad’s arms instead, watching Saturday morning cartoons on the T.V in your living room; you instead found the place neat and tidy. The messy pillows on your couch where placed like they hadn’t even been moved to begin with, like no one besides you had been in the apartment the night before.

Somehow he managed to do all of this without you even noticing. You wondered at what time he woke up, cleaned up, took Sunhi without making any fuss and left, all before your 7 AM alarm could wake you up.

He even made you breakfast too. Some eggs, bacon and toast.

‘‘Y/N, your legs are touching the mat.’’ Namjoon notes as he stands in front of you, ‘‘Let’s focus, okay?’’

You nod once again, though this time a little more embarrassed. If only you could explain to your instructor why you’re so distracted.

No messages either. No text explaining why he had to leave so early. No sticky note placed on your fridge door about how he made you breakfast. No slight shake to your sleeping body to let you know that he’d be taking Sunhi. Nothing.

Would’ve you liked that, though?

You could say yes because he’s your friend and it’s only fair since you took care of his daughter the night before.

But it’s not right, because friends don’t kiss each other, let alone the way you had let him kiss you and touch you while his daughter slept in your room and his wife waited for both of them at home.

There was a war going on inside you between your brain and your heart.

Your heart, being a weak ass bitch, was telling you about how exciting everything was. How nice it felt to have Jungkook tell you that he wanted to be with you, that he no longer felt happy with his wife, how perfectly his lips encaptured your own and how you could still feel them on you.

But your brain, obviously being the logical one between the two, reminded you about how wrong it was. You had never wanted to be placed in a position of being ‘‘the other woman’’. That even though you might not like Jiwoo and had spent years hoping your friend would someday wake up and realize this too, this didn’t feel right.

‘‘Alright, let’s drink some water now.’’ Namjoon announces, clasping his hands together and showing off that dimple that most ─if not all─ of the students went heart eyes over.

You take the time to check your phone instead, you don’t need the water because you didn’t do shit anyway. There’s no text from Minji, who you’re scared will somehow, by the grace of everything that’s holy, find out about what you did. No text from Jungkook either and you’re wondering why he hasn’t bothered to send one.

Instead, there’s a text from Taehyung and you mutter a curse.

[8:34 AM] Taehyung: hey y/n! i’m sure you’re in your yoga class rn but i wanted to see if maybe you’d be up for lunch at my place? i’ll try and cook something nice :)

Ah, of course that throughout all of this you forgot about Taehyung.

The sweet guy who had stuck around only for you to pay him back by kissing your best friend, the one Taehyung had to pretend wasn’t bothered by his interruption that night a few weeks ago.

God, you do have a way to fuck things up for yourself.

You don’t know how long you stood there thinking what to reply to him, but it definitely was for a few minutes because you only came back to reality once you heard your name being called once by the instructor.

‘‘Y/N,’’ Namjoon repeats and you look over at him with a puzzled look, ‘‘we’re starting again, if you’d like to join us.’’ There’s that smile again. Bless his patience, you wonder if he’s actually this calm because of yoga or he’s just really good at pretending.

You look back down at your phone, the screen displaying a text that’s still waiting to be replied to.

‘‘I uhm─I gotta go, sorry.’’ You quickly reply, making Namjoon look at you with wide eyes, but he makes no effort to stop you either.

And as quickly as you can, you collect your belongings before you’re heading out the door without saying goodbye.

Either you quit yoga altogether or just apologize to Namjoon like a grownup next Saturday. Whatever it is, you’re not thinking about what decision to make about your little extracurricular right now.

There’s only so much you can handle at a time.

Jungkook is lucky that Jiwoo works Saturday mornings because with her away, he’s able to enter his house without having to sneak in.

He opens the door wide, making way for him and a slightly awake Sunhi in his arms. He drops the keys on the counter without caring about the noise it makes. He doesn’t even have to pretend like he’s walking on glass, his boots are allowed to hit the wooden floor without a care in the world.

The place doesn’t look much different from what he had left it like the day before. There’s only a dirty glass on the sink, a product of Jiwoo’s daily breakfast smoothies and since she’s always in a rush she never has time to clean it up.

‘‘Are you still sleepy, pumpkin?’’ he quietly asks his daughter and she nods, he doesn’t blame her since he’s the one who woke her up at 6 AM. ‘‘Alright, I’ll take you to your bed,” he says, a kiss on her head following shortly after.

He wonders if Jiwoo enjoyed herself last night. No daughter and no husband, sounds like an ideal night for her. It’s not like she was worried about their whereabouts either, considering she hadn’t even bothered to text him wondering why they hadn’t come home.

If Jungkook’s supposed to feel guilty, he isn’t.

He’s heard stories before about how there’s a voice in your head constantly reminding you about what you did and how wrong it is. That he’ll be unable to sleep knowing he cheated on his wife while she lies next to him. That he won’t be able to look at her again without feeling remorse all over him.

And when Jiwoo returns home at noon, there’s none of that at all. He offers her a nod of acknowledgement once she enters the living room to find him sitting with his laptop, watching through old videos that he took years back.

She puts her index finger up, telling him to give her a minute. She’s on a phone call with a friend of hers that Jungkook can only conclude is Hyeri, who he probably met at some point but can’t remember what her face looked like.

‘‘I know! Like, why do you have to be such a bitch about it? We get that you’re sucking the boss’s dick in private, so you might as well─’’

Jiwoo’s voice is too distracting and so, Jungkook places his earphones in to hear what this video’s audio is about. Once he does, he hits play and the audio is loud enough to drown out Jiwoo’s whining.

‘‘Guess who came to see you, Pumpkin?’’

Jungkook gasps as he remembers this was part of a series of videos he was supposed to show Sunhi once she was old enough to understand them. He recorded a few until he was drowning in work to even grab his camera again. It saddens him that he wasn’t able to continue.

He decides he’ll show them to her later because right now Sunhi is too busy playing with her dolls inside her room to even pay attention to him.

‘‘It’s auntie Y/N! And she came bearing gifts,’’ Jungkook smiles, switching the focus on you ‘‘is that a Fisher Price Taco Tuesday toy set that I see?’’ he wonders in a fake curious tone as you look at him with narrowed eyes ‘‘I wonder how she knew you wanted that, Sunhi. It’s not like your dad had it on his Amazon wishlist or anything.’’

‘‘Very funny.’’ You mumble, handing him the toys so you could go ahead and grab a tiny three-month-old Sunhi from the bed ‘‘Aren’t you the cutest little bean in this entire world? Aren’t you?’’ you coo at the little girl, who looks at you with wide eyes and you’re forced to blink a couple of times because she looks just like him.

‘‘Of course she is, she’s my spitting image!’’ Jungkook confirms your thought as he grabs Sunhi’s cheek gently with his fingers and squeezes, making the baby giggle.

You side-eye him and then focus your attention back on the baby in your hands, ‘‘No, you’re not, Sunhi. Your daddy is not cute at all.’’

‘‘You’re gonna make me put this camera down and have a discussion about this.’’

Jungkook chuckles at the footage, noticing how he made you smile because of his comment. The video isn’t long, it’s mostly you cooing to a then tiny Sunhi, giggling at the way you would nuzzle your nose into her belly as Jungkook laughed behind the camera.

‘‘Jungkook, look at her!’’ You practically squeal as Sunhi grabs your thumb with her little hand ‘‘Oh my gosh, I think I’m gonna cry.’’

He laughs as he does a close-up of his daughter holding on to your finger, until he hears the little sniffle you let out and the camera is now focused on you silently wiping a tear away.

‘‘Wait, you’re actually crying?’’ Jungkook asks in disbelief and you turn to look at him to find the lens focused on you ‘‘Sunhi, you’re Auntie Y/N loves you so much that she’s crying! How cute.’’

‘‘You’re so dumb, seriously.’’ you mumble with a frown, going back to gawking at the baby still holding on to your thumb.

Jungkook sighs, ‘‘I’m gonna have to bleep that out, y’know?’’

You laugh and shrug your shoulders, caressing Sunhi’s stomach. Jungkook whispers ‘cute’, so soft that you’re unable to hear it.

Once it ends, Jungkook is able to see his smiling face as it reflects on the black screen and it’s only then he realized he’d been grinning the whole time. Now his ears are filled with Jiwoo talking over the phone and his smile goes back to a straight line.

Jungkook closes the video and clicks on the next one, hoping that it’s one that involves you as well. He’s unable to press play because Jiwoo is suddenly standing in front of him, arms crossed and she’s no longer talking on her phone.

‘‘Yes?’’ He asks, removing an earbud to show her she has his full attention.

‘‘So, where were you last night?’’

Jungkook’s slightly surprised that she cares. He tends to forget there’s still some humanity left in her after all, ‘‘At Y/N’s.’’ he answers with a shrug, eyes going back to stare at the screen of his laptop.

Jiwoo scoffs and he’s forced to look at her again, eyebrow slightly raised. He hopes she doesn’t start because it’s too early and it’s a Saturday. But Jiwoo doesn’t like taking breaks like he does.

‘‘I thought you said that she wasn’t going to be able to take care of Sunhi on Fridays.’’ There’s bitterness in her tone, ‘‘so, what were you doing there?’’

Jungkook understands where Jiwoo’s curiosity comes from, but it’s strange. She’s never been the type to ask where he’s been, what he’s doing with Sunhi while she’s not around ─which is practically all the time─ and doesn’t care for your business either.

‘‘I just stopped by.’’ Jungkook mutters, stroking the nape of his neck in an attempt to not seem suspicious, ‘‘We hung out and Sunhi fell asleep, she didn’t wanna come back home.’’

And that’s true, Jiwoo narrows her eyes at him as if she’s debating whether or not to believe him and the excuse of their sleeping daughter. She doesn’t know Sunhi that well to conclude if it’s possible or not.

‘‘And what, did you all three sleep together in the same bed? Playing family, maybe?’’

Jungkook looks at her in disbelief. This is a first.

‘‘What?’’ Is all he’s able to muster because he’s genuinely shocked at her accusation.

Jiwoo rolls her eyes, ‘‘Oh, please. Like I’m going to buy that hanging out bullshit.’’ Jungkook looks like a deer stuck in headlights and she chuckles, ‘‘Is what I give to you not enough?’’

‘‘I─what are you on about?’’

He figures this is her picking a fight because he wasn’t around yesterday to attend her needs like he usually does every Friday night. But Jungkook’s mind is quick to remind him of what he did and it’d be really ironic if he denies Jiwoo’s accusations, that for the first time are actually true.

‘‘I carried around that girl for nine months, ruined my body because of her, all for you to pick someone else over me?’’ Jiwoo’s voice is raised a little higher and Jungkook can’t help but look over at Sunhi’s bedroom door and hope his daughter is not listening to anything coming from the living room. ‘‘I knew I should’ve never trusted her, I always knew your friendship with her was fucking weird.’’

Jungkook doesn’t want to raise his voice either. It’s not going to get them anywhere. But he can’t stand the way she’s speaking about his daughter and you, she’s never crossed those boundaries before.

‘‘Are you insane? How can you talk about your daughter like she’s nothing?’’ Jungkook spats out, ‘‘I’ve always been thankful for what you did, I know the shit you went through to bring her into this world.’’

But Jiwoo doesn’t care about how loud she’s being, ‘‘You’re so thankful you pay me back by fucking your best friend? While I’m alone over here waiting for you to come back?’’

Jungkook has to take a deep breath and close his eyes for a second, before he loses it.

He clears his throat, ‘‘Jiwoo, I have always chosen you. Always. I did back when I was a sophomore, I did it when I asked you to marry me, and I did it when I chose you to be the mother of my children. So, I don’t know what─’’

‘‘I don’t give a flying fuck if you chose me! I was supposed to be all of that either way, Jungkook.’’ She interjects.

Was she, though? Of course, she was his girlfriend then. It would make sense that she’d be the one to end up marrying him, having his kids and living the happy life everyone guaranteed he’d live alongside her.

But he hasn’t been thinking about the choices he ended up taking back then. Instead, he’s been wondering about the ‘what if’s and Jiwoo isn’t in any of them.

Jungkook’s been daydreaming for months now about how different his life would’ve turned out if he had never asked the pretty girl in his class all those years back and instead had focused his attention somewhere else. Or someone else..

‘‘Are you going to answer me?’’ Jiwoo’s stern voice brings him back to the reality he hates, ‘‘Were you going to pick me or was I a second choice?’’ She slowly asks, giving him an opportunity to digest every single word she spoke.

‘‘You weren’t a second choice,’’ he mumbles and his gaze has faltered and instead focused back on the screen of his laptop. Clicking on a video randomly, trying to distract himself from the situation at hand. Hoping that whatever he says is enough for Jiwoo to leave him alone.

It doesn’t help that the video automatically plays and it’s you on the first frame, a big smile as you hold Sunhi towards the camera, making her wiggle in your arms.

What if.

‘‘Show me that you love me, then.’’

The video still plays as Jungkook looks back at Jiwoo standing right in front of him, her arms are still crossed, but the look on her face is different. Her brows are no longer furrowed and Jungkook might be wrong, but he thinks her eyes look glossy.

He doesn’t act quickly enough and she takes the laptop from him, closing it before she can even notice what is it that has garnered his attention. Jiwoo straddles his lap and he jumps slightly at the action, placing her arms around his neck as she looks at him with innocent eyes.

If he didn’t know her, he would’ve believed them.

‘‘Jiwoo, let’s not─’’

‘‘I missed you yesterday,’’ she interjects in a whisper ‘‘show me that you love me right now.’’

Her lips latch onto his neck, biting and sucking on the skin as he tries to wriggle himself out of her hold, but her hands push at his chest so he can stay still.

‘‘C’mon,’’ she mumbles ‘‘show me.’’ She’s pleading by then.

He feels nothing. There’s no electricity in Jiwoo’s kisses. No tingles on his back, no goosebumps on his skin, no fireworks going off. If anything, everytime her lips meet his skin it feels bitter, like they don’t belong there at all.

‘‘Daddy, come please!’’ The muffled voice of Sunhi inside her room interrupts the one-sided moment and Jungkook is silently thanking her.

Jiwoo doesn’t make an effort to move as she keeps kissing on all the exposed skin he has to offer. Jungkook sighs in frustration as he forces her off him, making her land beside him with an astonished expression.

Her hands tighten into fists as she looks at him like he’s gone insane, ‘‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’’ She asks in disbelief.

Jungkook blinks, ‘‘Did you─?’’ He gestures with his finger over to his daughter’s room, ‘‘Sunhi is calling me.’’

His wife scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest again, ‘‘Of course, you always go running when it comes to her.’’

Contrary to his belief, there is no humanity left in Jiwoo at all. She’s just really good at pretending like she cares so she can get her way. This is the last time Jungkook falls for this trick.

Jungkook opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He repeats this action a few times, to stammer something out. Anything. But there’s nothing besides the expecting silence of his wife as she chuckles incredulously. Jungkook ignores this and turns around, a second away from opening Sunhi’s bedroom door─

‘‘You’re a waste of a husband.’’ Jiwoo sneered.

His hand drops from the door handle and he sighs, taking a deep breath in and out.

He looks back at her, ‘‘You know what, Jiwoo? I wasn’t lying when I said you weren’t my second choice.’’ he informs and her eyebrow raises up ‘‘But you aren’t my first choice now either.’’

Jiwoo scowls and heaves in anger, ready to let hell loose on him ‘‘I knew that who─’’

‘‘It’s Sunhi,’’ he states and Jiwoo closes her mouth before she can even finish her sentence. ‘‘Ever since I knew you were pregnant with her, she’s been at the top of my list and she’ll always be there. I don’t care what you do or say to me, I really don’t. You don’t love me, Jiwoo.’’

At the accusation, her eyes soften and she’s standing up to argue that it’s not true, but Jungkook raises his hand in a motion to stop her.

‘‘You don’t love me and I don’t love you.’’

Jungkook expected her to start yelling at him like she usually did, but Jiwoo’s rendered speechless on her spot as she stares at him, blinking rapidly.

‘‘I don’t love you,’’ he repeats ‘‘and I haven’t loved you for a while now. I don’t remember the last time my heart raced up when I saw you or when I stopped enjoying kissing you. And I’m sorry, because I should’ve told you instead of pretending like I did.’’

Jiwoo’s motionless as she takes all of his words in.

‘‘But I did it for her because I didn’t want her to hate me if you ever left. But that was a dumb idea because you don’t care about Sunhi. And frankly, I doubt she cares about you either. She never speaks about you, never asks about you, she’s used to you not being here even if you sort of are.’’

Jungkook places his hand over the doorknob once again and Jiwoo grimaces.

‘‘I should’ve never begged you to come back. I should’ve thought about what you wanted and it’s always been clear to me what that is,’’ Jungkook swallows the knot he feels in his throat ‘‘and it’s never been Sunhi or me.’’

‘‘Jungkook.’’

He thinks she’s about to tell him how sorry she is. That she’ll recognize how heartless she’s been and how she not only failed him, but failed their daughter too. Maybe beg for a final try at their relationship as she promises she’ll change this time.

Jungkook hums and spares her one last glance.

Jiwoo has a stoic expression on her face and she speaks under her breath, but clear enough for him to hear, ‘‘Sign the papers when you get them.’’

You expect Minji to just jump at you any minute now because if looks could kill, you’d be dead already. Maybe you should’ve pretended like you weren’t home and let Minji knock on your door until she’d give up, but even you knew better than that.

It was better to face her now than to deal with her accumulated wrath later.

‘‘When were you going to tell me?’’ She suddenly asks and it takes you by surprise because it had been way too silent since you had let her in.

Minji works like a predator, she attacks when you least expect it and right now you definitely feel like you’re about to be eaten.

‘‘I─uh…’’

She sighs and you can see the disappointment in her face, ‘‘Were you going to tell me at all?’’

You nod instead, not trusting yourself enough to speak at the moment.

It had been a week since the event in your living room and it makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair as you stare at your friend, who’s sitting on the couch where everything went down.

‘‘Then why did I have to find out through Taehyung?’’ She asks in a disappointed tone.

You figured he’d tell her. It’s not like you asked him not to do so, but you had silently prayed that the universe was on your side on this one and by some unknown reason they wouldn’t bump into each other at work and Minji, like she usually did, wouldn’t ask him about you. Because if she did, then he’d have to explain how you had broken the news that you had made out with your best friend; the one Minji despised with her soul.

A sigh escapes your lips as you lower your head with shame.

You were supposed to tell her, but every time you took your phone and tried to dial or text her, your nerves got the best of you and ended up chickening out, promising that you’d do it the next day. Then the next day. And the next day.

It’s not like you’re scared of Minji─well, maybe only slightly. But you know the effort she put into getting you to go out and meet someone new, someone that’s not married and not a father. She’s known Taehyung for so long, probably even told him how much of a good girl you were to convince him to take you out, only for you to end up throwing all of that in the trash like it was nothing.

Minji’s also spent years pushing you to move on from your friendship with Jungkook. Not just because she doesn’t like him, but because she’s always felt like he’s held you back while he’s made his way in life. You’ve stuck behind him making sure that he’s okay and happy, forgetting about yourself in the process.

‘‘I’m not angry at you,’’ she speaks softly, making you look up at her with surprise. ‘‘I just─He gave you a second chance, Y/N. Why did you say no?’’ Her words are laced with curiosity and you know that she’s asking because even Taehyung wasn’t able to give her an answer to this question.

Your bottom lip trembles and you’re trying your hardest not to burst into tears in front of him. You can’t and you won’t. How even dare you to do that?

‘‘I’m sorry,’’ you whisper and your eyes shift down to the wooden floor of his apartment. ‘‘I’m sorry, Taehyung.’’ You repeat, knowing it’s not enough.

Taehyung gulps and his crossed arms quickly fall to his sides as he realizes that, whatever anger he felt when you told him about what you did, was no longer there the moment he saw how genuinely apologetic you looked.

‘‘I’m an idiot, I know.’’ You continue, rubbing your clammy hands into the material of your leggings and it does nothing to dry them. ‘‘I’m sorry, Taehyung.’’

He knows he shouldn't be so easily swayed by your apology, but he can’t help but want to cradle you in his arms. And when he does, your eyebrows raise in surprise as you gasp because you weren’t expecting this.

You expected anger, insults thrown out about how you’re a slut and being kicked out of his apartment with him telling you to never contact him again.

Taehyung’s still sweet even when his heart is getting broken.

‘‘It’s okay,’’ he whispers into your hair as one of his hands runs up and down your back ‘‘we can work this out, yeah?’’

You bite the tip of your tongue as you take his words in, feeling your heart speeding up even faster than what it was when you spilled everything out on him. Maybe you would’ve preferred him getting angry than his current reaction.

‘‘It’s not like we were exclusive, right?’’ Taehyung chuckles, but it feels like he’s convincing himself that that was the reason as to why it happened. ‘‘Let’s forget it, seriously.’’

A shaky sigh comes out of your mouth as your arms, that hadn’t reciprocated his hug, gain the strength to separate yourself from him. He looks taken aback, but he’s waiting for you to reply in agreement because, yes, you could work this out if you try hard enough.

But that’s not realistic. Pretending like you never kissed Jungkook is not realistic at all, because it’s sad to admit that you won’t be able to kiss Taehyung again without thinking about your best friend in the back of your head as you’re reminded that not only did you let him kiss you, but you reciprocated and not only did you reciprocate, but you liked it a little too much.

‘‘Y/N,’’ he speaks up, snapping you from your thoughts,‘‘please, let’s just try.’’ He silently asks─no, begs.

The barking of his dog, Yeontan, startles you as you come to stare at the little dog at the feet of his owner, who at the moment isn’t interested to see what he wants. You never told Taehyung, but the teacup pomeranian was extremely overprotective of him.

He’s barking at you like you’re hurting his owner and maybe you aren’t physically doing any damage, but you know that you’re about to break his heart all over again.

‘‘I-I…,’’ you blink as you try to focus on the man in front of you and not the dog on the ground, ‘‘I’m sorry, I can’t.’’

Yeontan’s barks increase and Taehyung is at a loss for words to beg you to stay and talk things through. You can still hear the dog’s incessant barking as you make your way down the hall and that’s when the tears you were holding finally fall down.

‘‘Taehyung’s a nice guy, Y/N. He forgave you and you just left?’’ Minji asks, disbelief in her tone. ‘‘I thought you liked him.’’

‘‘I do!’’ You finally speak up. You’re sure of it, you like Taehyung. Your friend gives you a puzzled look because she really can’t understand you right now. ‘‘I like Taehyung, I really do,’’ you mutter, ‘‘but it’s not fair to him.’’

Minji scrunches her face up because there’s only one reason you’re thinking that way. She’s tired of this narrative, it’s old and overdone and it should’ve ended years ago.

She lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘You love him, don’t you?’’ Another question that takes you by surprise.

‘‘No, I just─’’

Minji holds her finger up, interrupting you, ‘‘I’m talking about Jungkook.’’

This is the attack. Not the other questions she had asked you regarding her old family friend. Not the unannounced arrival to your apartment on an uneventful Saturday morning where you had chosen to stay in bed instead of facing the peaceful yoga instructor. Not the glaring looks she had been giving you for the last minutes.

And if you weren’t ready for any of those, this one definitely takes the prize.

‘‘I-I of course I love him,’’ you mumble, ‘‘he’s my friend.’’

Minji smirks as her eyebrows raise, ‘‘No, I’m asking if you’re in love him.’’

You’re sure that the feelings that you’ve had for Jungkook have always been platonic. You do love him because he’s your friend and you’re supposed to love your friends. But you know that the love that you have for him is very different from the one you have for anyone else. It might be the history between you two. You’ve been with him through it all, cheering from the sidelines as he accomplishes one milestone after the other.

‘‘Be honest with me,’’ Minji demands, ‘‘are you in love with Jungkook?’’ she asks once again.

Your eyes well up and your bottom lip is trembling as you look back at your intimidating best friend because your silence is deafening and you’re expecting her to throw the last blow. You think you deserve it. Minji has so much she wants to say, but you look so dejected and she figures that you might’ve just realized it.

‘‘Hey, it’s okay.’’ She comes up to you quickly, crouching down as she looks up at the tears rolling down your reddened cheeks. ‘‘Y/N, it’s okay.’’

You’ve been trying to tell yourself the same thing the past few days.

It’s okay that you kissed your best friend. It’s okay that you’ve slowly and silently started harbouring feelings for him. It’s okay that you just realized you’ve been in love with him for a while now. It’s okay that you’ve been resenting the fact that he didn’t choose you all those years ago. It’s okay that you take care of and love his daughter like she’s yours.

But...

‘‘No, it’s not.’’ You cry, ‘‘I can’t do that, Minji, he’s not mine to have.’’

Your mind quickly brings you back to the harsh reality, which is that Jungkook will never be yours. He probably only kissed you because he was looking for something that was capable of exciting him again after realizing how bored of his marriage he is. He doesn’t love you like that, he’ll never love you like that.

Minji can’t disagree with what you just said, but she also feels like right now is not the time to make you feel even worse when it’s obvious you’re already there.

‘‘I blocked his number, anyway.’’ You mumble out, wiping away your tears.

Your friend’s eyes widened at the revelation, ‘‘What?’’.

‘‘I freaked out after I talked to Taehyung because I felt so guilty and you know how I don’t know how to deal with shit ever, so I just─’’ You stop yourself from rambling and sigh as you feel Minji’s hand squeezing your knee as a sign of comfort, ‘‘I can’t see him again without thinking about it. I can’t take care of Sunhi knowing he’s going home to sleep with Jiwoo. I just can’t keep pretending anymore.’’

Minji can’t do much after that, you’ve become a sobbing mess and the tears seem unstoppable. She’s never seen you like this and it dawns on her that you’ve held all of this in for way too long.

It’s ironic because she’s always told you that you need space from Jungkook, thinking it’d be good for you to finally realize that you’re not part of his list of priorities anymore and hadn’t been for a long time.

But she hadn’t taken into account what the after effects of not having him in your life anymore would look like.

[12:03 PM] Jeon Jungkook: hi y/n

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[12:04 PM] Jeon Jungkook: hey???

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[12:07 PM] Jeon Jungkook: i wanted to see if you’d like to meet up for lunch one of these days? i feel like we need to talk

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[5:13 PM] Jeon Jungkook: does this work now??

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Jungkook groans in annoyance as he finds another one of his texts left undelivered. It feels like life is either against him or doing this for his own good.

Nonetheless, he wants to talk to you because it’s been a few days since he last saw and heard from you. He figures you’re mad, the last words you spoke to him didn’t sound friendly at all and he wonders if maybe leaving without saying goodbye that day was the right thing to do.

The small snores coming from beside him make him realize Sunhi is finally asleep and he can’t help but let out a sigh of disappointment as he watches her curl into a fetal like position, clutching her Dumbo plush toy and slightly drooling into his favorite pillow, making him pout because he knows he won’t be able to pry it away from her when he decides to fall asleep too.

Sunhi being fast asleep is supposed to bring peace to Jungkook’s tiring day, though the silence is extremely uncomfortable and these days he’s come to realize how much he rather have his daughter running around and yelling in excitement than this.

Complete and utter silence.

[7:13 PM] Jeon Jungkook: (1.jpg attached) sunhi misses auntie y/n!! she’s been asking me about you a lot

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[7:15 PM] Jeon Jungkook: i miss auntie y/n more tho…

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[7:17 PM] Jeon Jungkook: i hope ur alright :)

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‘‘Pumpkin, you can stop smiling already.’’ Jungkook chuckles as he looks up from his phone, noticing his daughter still holding the big smile he had given him when he requested to take a picture of her to send to you. ‘‘I already sent the picture to Auntie Y/N.’’ He informs and she sighs with relief, massaging her cheeks from straining them too hard.

Though his eyebrows furrow, noticing his messages have once again been left undelivered. He makes a mental note to call the phone company soon, because it’s been over a week since he last sent the first messages and those remained in the same state as well.

‘‘Daddy, unpause!’’ Sunhi demands, making him realize that he’s in the middle of showing her his favorite Pixar movie, Cars.

Twenty minutes had passed and for a majority of them Sunhi had only watched attentively and Jungkook looked over at her every other second just to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep. Warmness spread throughout him as he noticed his daughter looking at the screen with those big doe eyes she had inherited from him.

Once the scene where Sally shows Lightning McQueen around Radiator Springs, Jungkook feels a tug at his sweatshirt and looks down to notice Sunhi’s little hand grabbing at the fabric, her eyes are still glued to the screen.

“Auntie Y/N likes this too?” She asks and Jungkook chuckles because his daughter can’t stop thinking about his friend even when doing anything completely unrelated to you.

Maybe that’s another thing she inherited as well.

[7:03 PM] Jeon Jungkook: so i called my phone company and asked them abt why my messages aren’t being delivered and they said that you must’ve blocked me

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[7:04 PM] Jeon Jungkook: yeah i guess you did

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Jungkook’s mind has gone blank ever since he got off the phone with the cellphone company.

The idea that you might’ve blocked his number had not once crossed his mind during the weeks of undelivered texts and phone calls sent straight to voicemail. It was obvious, but he didn’t think you’d be capable of doing it.

He wanted it to be a network issue or something else that he could put blame on instead of facing the realization that you had shut him out from your life. And that thought hurt, no─stung him.

The worst part is that he knows he deserves it. It was foolish of him to think that you had enjoyed the kiss too. Dumb enough to believe that you might’ve reciprocated the way he felt.

Jungkook doesn’t want to think this is the end, maybe it’s that stupid voice inside his head that always holds on to things that he knows he should let go of. But he can’t just let go of this and move on.

He doesn’t remember what life was like before you and he sure as hell does not want to know what it’ll be like without you.

[1:30 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i miss you so fucking much i’m sorry if i knew that kissing you would’ve fucked everything up htne i woudl’ve never done it y/n i’m sorry

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[1:31 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i really wanted to kiss you but it was selfish of me to do it i didnt think about what you must’ve felt im sos sorry

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[1:32 AM] Jeon Jungkook: sunhi’s been asking me about yoj and i dont even know what to say anymore

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[2:27 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i don’t even care if you dont wanna speak to me anymore i fucked this up for sunhi she loves you so much and you’re her favorite person ever and i ruined it for her just bc i wanted to see if you felt the same way as i do

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[3:50 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i miss you y/n i really do

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“Daddy, lemme go!” Sunhi whines trying to escape from her father’s hands as he finishes applying the sunscreen on her arms, “Daddy!”.

He gives her a stern look and the toddler huffs, sticking her bottom lip out in an act of annoyance. The playground games are waiting for her and she feels like her dad is just coming between them and her.

“Alright,” he pats his big hands on her tiny arms, “you’re good to—“ Jungkook isn’t able to finish his sentence because his daughter’s already running towards one of the slides, “Sunhi, be careful!” He reminds her, but she’s too focused on the rides than on her dad’s warning.

Jungkook sighs and relaxes into the bench.

“She’s precious,” She comments with a small smile as her attention focuses on the little girl having the time of her life going down the slide, “I’m surprised she’s yours.”

Jungkook looks over at the woman beside him and scoffs, but he can’t help but agree. Sunhi is too good and too pure, the best thing he’s ever done in his life.

“Yeah, well, it’s all her.” Jungkook admits, eyes focusing back on Sunhi, “She’s really great.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence between them and Jungkook has to clear his throat to gain her attention.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet up at a café,” Jungkook apologizes and nods over at his daughter, “she’s been a little misbehaved lately, you said you wanted to talk to me and I figured that if I took Sunhi to a place like that she’d just—“

She interrupts his rambling, “Hey, it’s okay. I have no problem, really.” She assures him and he nods slightly, “I haven’t been in a place like this in a long time.”

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck and glances over at the woman who’s looking at him with an expression he can’t quite pinpoint. It makes him so nervous that he quickly shifts his gaze to the ground.

“This is so weird.” He admits with an awkward chuckle and she raises her eyebrow, “I mean—you hate me, Minji, so I don’t know what you want to talk about.”

“I don’t hate you!” Minji laughs and Jungkook finally looks at her and she falters, “Seriously! I only dislike you and that’s saying a lot.”

He supposes that’s a good thing, considering how aggressive Minji used to be towards him back in college. Always letting him know how much she despised his guts, how he didn’t deserve to have you as his friend and even once threw a drink at his face during a party; though you swore to him she was drunk and that she didn’t mean it.

Jungkook hadn’t seen her much since, only a few times if it was your birthday and they managed to cross paths, because the girl made sure she was never in the same room as him. The times it happened, he felt like she was throwing daggers at him through her eyes.

“It always bothered me how putty in your hands she was for you,” Minji begins, crossing her arms over her chest as she settles back into the bench, “and how oblivious you were about it.”

Jungkook looks back at her and there’s a small smile on her face, most likely looking over at his daughter.

“How when we got together for study sessions, she’d be tired because she was taking care of you the night before at one of those stupid frat parties you loved dragging her to.” Minji recalls and Jungkook feels like his mouth has gone dry from the memory.

She crosses one of her legs over the other, “Or that whole Jiwoo ordeal, how you had practically put Y/N aside once you managed to date the ‘campus hottie’.” She says with air quotes and Jungkook sighs, remembering the beginning of it all.

He knows that he can’t turn back time and change it all. Even if he could, he knows he wouldn’t. If there was no Jiwoo, there’d be no Sunhi.

An excited yell startles him as he looks over at his daughter, swinging up and down. “Look, daddy! I'm flying!” She calls and he smiles at her.

“Jesus, that’s fucking precious.” Minji mumbles, but he hears her nonetheless and nods in agreement. “Anyway, I’m not going to act like a saint here and pretend I was vouching for you, because I never did.”

Jungkook knows. Back then he didn’t understand why Minji was so adamant about trash talking him to you, considering how he and her barely knew each other. Actually, whatever knowledge they had of the other was through of you.

But Jungkook’s done a lot of self reflecting for the past month and a half and he’s realized why Minji disliked him so much. Or, dislikes. Either way, it’s valid.

“I just wanted her to snap out of it,” she confesses, “and realize that there is a life beyond you. That there’s more than being your best friend and your daughter’s babysitter. That she’s capable of moving on and putting you aside, because if you did that to her then why shouldn’t she?”

Jungkook hadn’t thought about any of that at all. He had realized he had been a shitty friend, but the idea of just how much definitely hadn’t settled on him. He wishes you knew how much he’s cared about you, but that there were too many overlapping lines for him to ever express it.

“I thought that after setting her up with Taehyung she had finally realized it,” she continues “but you know how she is, she rarely lets up and I knew she wasn’t going to let you go that easily.”

Jungkook draws in a long breath, rubbing his now clammy hands in his jeans as he looks back towards Minji.

“I mean, she couldn’t let her go that easily.” She jerks her head towards Sunhi, still sitting on the swings, though she’s slowed down now. “She loves that little girl so damn much.”

Jungkook’s sure of this. He recognizes the immense love you have for Sunhi, how sincere and unconditional it is. It’s the way a mother loves her child, though he never expected it to come from you instead. He’s not surprised though, because it’s the same love you gave to him. But it’s louder, there are no boundaries that you needed to respect to show Sunhi just how much you loved her, unlike with him.

It dawns on him that cutting him off must’ve been hard. You probably wanted to do it for way longer and only stayed because of Sunhi and Jungkook doesn’t want to think about the dilemma you must’ve went through to finally do it this time around.

He runs his hands through his hair, letting out a shaky breath, remembering that Sunhi doesn’t have you anymore. That’s the reason as to why she’s been so misbehaved lately, crying way too often, throwing tantrums over the smallest of things. Jungkook could blame it on the fact that she’s soon turning four and maybe it’s something that comes with age, it might just be a coincidence that she’s acting this way during a time you’re no longer present in her life.

This is the thing Sunhi might not be able to forgive him for.

“Minji,” he finally speaks up and the woman beside him focuses his gaze back on him, “I miss her so much.” He mumbles, not trusting himself to speak up because he might choke back a sob.

“Only now?”

“No!” He says this a little too harshly and Minji jumps slightly at the tone in his voice, “I’ve always missed her and I’m fucking idiot for realizing too late.”

She hums and Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with rapid breaths, “She’s my first thought when I wake up and when I finally manage to go to sleep. Sunhi constantly reminds me about her, asking me where she is and when can she see her and I have to force myself to lie.”

Jungkook doesn’t realize Minji’s hand is now awkwardly placed on his back, hesitantly tapping as if to give him some comfort. It’s weird to see him like this, she had convinced herself that the guy didn’t have any feelings when it came to you.

“She blocked my number, I can’t call her and all my texts have been left undelivered. I’ve driven by her apartment building too many times with the plan to go up and talk to her, but I always back out because I’m an idiot and I know she’ll hate me if I do that and I—“

“Jungkook.”

“I just want to know if she still cares, I don’t mind if she doesn’t feel the same way. But I want to know that Y/N still cares about Sunhi and me. Do you know? Does she? Could you please—“

Jungkook’s ramble is interrupted by the crying sounds of Sunhi, who’s now on the ground as she sobs and he quickly stands up to go straight towards her. He blinks away the tears that had formed in his eyes because there’s only room for one crying baby here.

“Pumpkin, what happened?” He asks in a soft voice, crouching down at her level and she’s pouting as she points at her bloody knee. “Did you fall down?” She nods and he sighs, picking her up as he takes her back to the bench where Minji waits with expectancy to check on the little girl.

Jungkook places Sunhi beside her and looks through his daughter’s bag for the emergency kit he carried around. He cleans the blood delicately with a gauze and alcohol, making the little girl wince and yelp out an ‘ouch!’ as she holds tightly to Minji’s thigh.

“It’s okay, Pumpkin.” He reassures her with a smile, making his daughter nod because she trusts her dad, “It was an accident and accidents are part of growing up, right?” She nods again and Minji figures this isn’t a first for her.

Once the blood has been cleaned, Jungkook places a cute rainbow patterned bandaid on the wound in her knee.

“There we go,” he announces and Sunhi lets out the breath she’d been holding, ‘‘all done! Are you good now?”

“Yes,” Sunhi weakly replies, “daddy, I wanna go home.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but the look on her face tells him that she’s probably still shaken by the accident and most likely wants to take a nap to forget about it.

He looks over at Minji with an apologetic look and she gives him half a smile, “Go, it’s alright.”

Jungkook nods and takes Sunhi in his arms, which she gladly accepts and settles her head in the crook of his neck. Minji’s ready to leave, figuring there was no point in staying any longer.

“Minji, wait!” He stops her before she goes, making her turn around and offer him a curious look, “Sunhi’s birthday is in a few weeks and,” Jungkook reaches for something inside his daughter’s bag, “she really wants Y/N to be there.” He whispers, taking out a party invitation to hand over to Minji.

She smirks, looking at the personalized invitation for his daughter’s fourth birthday, “Just Sunhi?” She asks and he lets out a breathless laugh.

“Me too.” Jungkook adds and a small smile appears on his face as he says it. “Uh—thank you for talking to me, I know it must’ve been hard.”

Minji swats her hand in the air, “It’s alright, just wanted to make sure how you and the kid were doing. It’s all she talks about anyway.”

A gasp escapes his lips and he holds on to his daughter tighter as she nuzzles her face farther in.

“I’ll give her the card, but—I can’t guarantee if she’ll go.” She warns and he nods, understanding.

Though he does not like the possible outcome, he settles down with the idea that you’ll notice how even though you both haven’t spoken towards each other in almost two months, he’s still thinking about you either way. Every day.

#jungkook angst #jungkook au #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #bts fanfic #bts smut #f: chasing pavements

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years ago

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Title: Kismet {11}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy

Words: 7k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: The musical notes emoji 🎶 signifies a song being sung. They are the lyrics.

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

🎶 “But I don't wanna give up. Baby, I just want you to get up. Lately, I've been a little fed up. Wish you would just focus on—me. Can you focus on me? Baby, can you focus on me?”

The sounds of H.E.R filled the semi-rustic kitchen as you moved around it, checking on the multiple things you were making. Her album was one of your go-to things for mellowing out. You sang along and got lost vocalizing along with her. It didn’t take long for you to forget what time it was and that you weren’t exactly alone in the house. As the song ended and the next came on, you held your hands in the air, already feeling the opening of Girls Need Love Too.

🎶 “Honestly, I'm tryna stay focused. You must think I've got to be joking when I say. I don't think I can wait. I just need it now. Better swing my way.”

The lyrics were hitting you as right as gospel right about now. Pulling open the oven, you checked on the treats inside, making sure they were rising just the way they needed to. After you were pleased with their progress, you checked your pots on the stove one more time, then went back to the pitcher you were mixing your famous mimosas. That was when DSVN came on, and the hypnotizing sound of the lyrics with the beat made your mind drift back to Henry, especially when the hook came on. It sounded like it was made just for you in this situation.

For the next few minutes, you focused on trying not to burn breakfast rather than dancing or singing. That was until Santana came on, and you couldn’t help but bust out your best salsa moves to Carlos’ electric guitar and Latin flare. The song was so catchy that you quickly got carried away winding your hips and doing your best Shakira impersonation. If she were standing in front of you, you thought she’d be proud because you gave it everything you had. Before you knew it, the song was almost over, and you’d forgotten about being quiet, and were now singing along to the song as you danced around the kitchen.

“Someone woke up on the right side of the bed.”

Your scream was loud, so loud it bounced off the walls of the room. Your head nearly snapped off your neck from the force of which you spun around.

“Oh my god!”

Henry stood there pinching his lips, trying to stop himself from laughing at you.

“You scared me half to death.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I um—I smelled food and heard music, and here you are,” Henry explained.

“Oh no, no. How long were you standing there?”

Another smile spread across his face, and it was all you needed to know he’d probably seen the whole thing. Embarrassment filled you.

“Oh god, no.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. You can dance and sing. I enjoyed the show.”

You snorted while shaking your head, trying to overcome your embarrassment. When you met his eyes again, you still saw the amusement there.

“Good morning,” you began.

“Good morning. What’s—what’s going on?”

He motioned to the organized chaos around you.

“Oh, breakfast.”

“Did you order?”

“Nope. One hundred percent handmade but these hands,” you replied, holding up your hands and flexing your fingers for emphasis.

Henry’s eyebrows shot up as he approached the kitchen island.

“You cook.”

Approaching the same island on the opposite side, you nodded. “I cook and bake and mix and clean, iron, and do laundry.”

Henry snorted and nodded, clearly amused by the sarcasm in your voice.

“Cute.”

You smiled and leaned against it, resting your elbows on the wooden island keeping your eyes on him.

“I know I don’t look it, but they do say never judge a book by its cover,” you replied.

Henry nodded before he spoke. “For the record, I’ve never judged you.”

You studied him for several moments before your eyes drifted over him, taking in his tan linen pants and cream shirt. He looked good, and you almost got lost in that before you snapped out of it. Clearing your throat, you pushed off the island and looked around.

“I’m almost done.”

“What’s for breakfast, chef Taylor?”

You smiled, “I’m glad you asked Mr. Cavill. We have lavender vanilla bean beignets, scrambled eggs, sausages, and of course mimosas.”

Henry’s eyebrows again shot up. “Wow. How long have you been up?”

Turning from him, you dropped a few mint leaves into the pitcher you’d just mixed. “Well, I actually haven’t slept yet.”

“So you’ve been up all night?”

“Yep.”

Sliding to the right, you turned off the oven and took out the beignets to place them on the stove to cool.

“Why? Is everything all right?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. I’m a night—insomniac.”

He was going to find out one way or another throughout this vacation anyway, you reasoned with yourself.

“Really?”

He sounded hesitant but also surprised.

“Yeah, most of the time.”

You used the time he stood there in a state of shock to finish up what you were doing before turning back to him.

“Are you going to pass out later or soon?”

“Nope. Come on. All done. Can you grab those two?”

You nodded your head to the two platters on the stove as you took the others walking out of the kitchen to the outdoor dining table he’d shown you yesterday. Once he saw the table that had two other platters and set place settings, he exclaimed.

“Wow.”

“I know, but I like to cook.”

“Everything smells incredible,” Henry complimented as he stood at one of the Rattan chairs waiting for you to sit first.

Once you sat down, you motioned for him to begin. “Dig in.”

A few minutes passed with the two of you loading your plates with various items. Once you were finished, you took up the pitcher and poured drinks for you both. When he brought one of your beignets to his mouth, you paused and watched him sink his teeth into it. As soon as he did, he moaned so loud it filled the space and drifted off.

“Holy--,” he began but never finished because he took several more bites finishing his first one. Once he’d swallowed and reached for another, he continued. “How did you learn to make beignets?”

“Well, it began with my Gramaw, but eventually, it was experimenting.”

He bit into another and rolled his eyes into the back of his head, and groaned. “These are heaven.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

Covering his food-filled mouth, he spoke, “Love them, get it correct.”

You snorted and nodded as you began to eat. The view before you caught your eye once again, and getting lost was easy. The morning was beautiful, warm, and calm, with a gentle breeze that carried the salt in the air from the nearby sea. You didn’t know who wouldn’t love waking up to this every day. It was then you realized how badly you’d needed a vacation after all.

“You stare out a lot.”

Henry’s voice brought your eyes back to him to find his already on you.

“I’m sorry,” you began with a soft smile. “Another thing about me, I do that—a lot.”

“What’re you thinking about?”

You looked out again and nudged your head to the view. “How incredible this view is and that I can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve taken a vacation,” you confessed.

“Tell me about it. I was literally running on fumes. I have no idea how I made it this far,” Henry said.

You continued to eat and fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.

“Was there anything particular you wanted to do today?”

“Like what?”

“There’s so much to do. I know a good spa. There’s diving, boat tours of this incredible lagoon, wine tasting, touring, driving along cote d'Azur. You name it, and it can be done,” he listed off.

“A lot of choices.”

You brought your legs up and hugged them to your body as you continued to eat while thinking about your options.

“What do you feel like doing?”

“I don’t mind either way,” Henry quickly responded.

That didn’t help you one bit, but you made the decision all the same. “Nothing screams vacation like a bikini, and a beach, so let’s live it up.”

He smiled as he nodded. “All right. We have a plan then,” he said, clapping his hands.

The rest of breakfast was comfortable and peaceful. Neither of you seemed to mind that conversation fell to the wayside because you were both lost in the food and scenery before you. After breakfast, you and Henry managed to do the dishes and clean up the kitchen together as you endured his teasing on the multitude of things you’d used to cook. As you cleaned, you caught his eyes on your body a few times, but he kept his physical distance for the most part. After you separated to get yourselves ready for your day in the sun.

You spent longer than necessary trying to decide on the right bikini. You didn’t know if you should go demure princess or buxom goddess. You were moving and making decisions by reading him. You told yourself the night before that you’d go at his pace and take your cues from him. If he initiated touching, you’d reciprocate. If he kissed you, you’d kiss him back. If he stayed away, you would too. You didn’t want to do the wrong thing or anything, especially since you didn’t know where you stood with him. Letting your self-doubt win, you chose the middle ground on the bikini.

Thirty minutes later, you stepped outside the villa to find Henry waiting patiently at a white Fiat convertible.

“Wow. Is this yours?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised. We have established that you’re a car man.”

He smiled as his eyes trailed over you. “Wow. The short shorts come out, huh.”

You looked over yourself, then back to him. “This is short? Ha, just you wait. I have even shorter.”

“I bet you do,” Henry chided as he held open the passenger door for you.

“It’s about a ten-minute drive to the beach, maybe eight if the cliffside isn’t flooded.”

“Wow, you’re right there, huh.”

He smiled and nodded as you slipped into the car.

“All right, let’s go. I have a goal to be kissed plentifully by this French sun, so in two weeks' time, I’m showing every bit of the melanin my ancestors blessed me with,” you joked.

Henry shut your door and walked around to the driver’s side. Once in, he pressed the start button.

“Bring it on. I happened to really like yours…it’s sexy,” he slipped in, meeting your eyes for a few moments.

“Did you just call me sexy, Mr. Cavill?”

His smile was wide before he slipped on his sunglasses. “Did I? Maybe, maybe not,” he said before he pulled off, beginning the journey.

As he drove, you relished the breeze and sun on your skin and waved your hands in the air, fully enjoying the carefree vibes you felt. Before long, you’d pulled out your phone and began snapping a multitude of pictures of the scenery, the people, and occasionally even Henry, though he probably had no idea. You didn’t want to miss the chance to see how perfect he looked behind the wheel.

When you got close to the beach, Henry parked along the cliff as plenty other cars had done. According to him, no one made a fuss about small things like that; as long as people could still pass it was all right. The laidback style was already agreeing with you. With him carrying all the bags like the gentleman he was, you allowed him to lead you across the road toward the sands of the beach and then down the shore to find the perfect spot. It took a few minutes, but when you found it, you staked your claim, stomping in the sand, marking it as yours. Henry took the initiative, spreading the oversized beach blanket using the items you’d brought with you as anchors for the corners.

Once he’d gotten it perfect, you wasted no time pulling off your tank then peeling off the shorts your wore. You tried to keep your eyes away from him, though you really wanted to know if you had his undivided attention. The middle ground bikini you’d chosen was still a look. The cut complimented your curves, while the color complimented your complexion. You wanted to take it at his pace, but you also had to show him you were still hot.

When you lied back on the blanket, you gawked at the ocean before you and marveled at its sparkle while the sun reflected off of it. Looking beside you to him, you found his eyes on you and his jaw slightly ajar.

“This is so beautiful.”

Henry snapped his head away from you and looked at the view you were just staring at. “Very,” he replied, his voice constrained as if his throat were closing. He held your bag out to you, but he didn’t look at you again.

“Thank you.”

You dug through it looking for your sunscreen spray. Once you’d found it, you began spraying along your arms and shoulders, rubbing the mist in working your way to your chest.

“Why France?”

“Huh? Excuse me?”

“France. Why France for buying a house?”

“Well, I have some French blood-ties; the Channel Islands has its history of it, and France is smack in the middle of there and London. I fell in love with it,” he explained.

“Why Bandol?”

“Oh, that’s easy. It’s still luxurious enough like St. Tropez but not as high profile. I can be Henry here and not worry someone is taking my picture.”

You nodded and understood perfectly. It was hard being on all the time. You’d gotten so used to it that you often forgot how to be off.

“I get it. It’s the same reason why I’ll always choose Australia and Ireland overall,” you explained.

“I’ve only seen Ireland a few times. I think I need to go back,” Henry added.

You smiled as fond memories washed over you of your time in Ireland. “You definitely should.”

You sprayed your shoulder closest to him and began rubbing in the liquid.

“Ehm, need some help?”

Your eyes met, and you fought back your smirk. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah, I can help. It’s no problem,” Henry assured.

You handed him the bottle, then turned your back to him and waited. He didn’t touch you for several moments.

“How many tattoos do you have?”

“Um—not sure, seven, eight maybe,” you said while anxiously waiting for him to begin.

“That’s quite a bit.”

“Not too much. They’re all strategically placed,” you explained.

When you felt the sprays on your back, you held your breath and waited for him to touch you. As Soon As he did, you bit your bottom lip, trying to ignore the feeling of completeness that washed over you. You liked the feel of his hands on your skin.

“Have you—ehm, have you ever thought about tattoos?”

“I have,” Henry began, his voice deeper than it had been moments before. his hands trailed lower to the small of your back, and you hunched over even more, giving him more access. “I’ve just never gotten around to it,” he finished.

Turning your head to rest your cheek on the tops of your knees, you smiled. “Too much work?”

A soft chuckle escaped him, and you felt his thump trail up your spine until he reached the back of your neck. Two sprays hit your skin, and he began rubbing into your shoulders. A weak moan slipped out, but he didn’t pull away. The kneading of his hands became more forceful then. You were quickly losing your nerve and grip on reality. Another moan slipped from your throat, and that was when Henry’s hands stilled and rested at your shoulder blades. You felt his fingertips trace the softest pattern onto your skin before they were gone.

“All done.”

By then, your heart was racing, and the butterflies in your gut were fluttering below your waist. Clearing your throat, you turned back to the ocean.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Henry said before he stood and discarded his shirt.

The action didn’t help you at all. Your jaw hit the floor as you took in every inch of him you’d spent all night since seeing the sprigs of hair peeking out his shirt. Plenty of dark hair decorated his chest and trailed down his abs until it disappeared behind his pants. A soft gasp drifted out of you, but your eyes refused to stop ogling. So you sat there looking at him and counting each of his eight ab muscles. The man had an eight pack; you thought to yourself as your throat painfully tightened.

“What’s wrong?”

Jerking your head up to his face, you shook your head, trying to find words.

“Wrong? Huh, nothing—um—you uh—you’re—you’re--.”

Henry smiled as he cocked his brow, waiting for you to say something intelligible. You had nothing, though.

“Cat got your tongue?” The humor in his voice was so obvious, and you felt like an idiot.

“And my brain cells, it would seem.”

His smile made you smile while trying to avert your eyes from the rock hard statue that he was.

“Sorry.”

Henry scoffed. “It’s okay,” he said.

“No, it’s not. You’re a person, not a piece of meat,” you clarified, feeling awful. You were doing the same thing to him that you hated men doing to you.

“Wait, you think I’m a piece of meat?”

Looking back at him, you spoke, “No, but I’m sure women look at you like you’re a piece of meat and in turn treat you like it.”

He nodded, “They have in the past.”

Your eyes again drifted downward, but you caught yourself before they got to his massive pecs. Clearing your throat, you stood.

“Do you burn easily?”

“I’m a white British man, of course, I do,” Henry joked, making you snort loudly.

“Wow, do you want some?”

He held his hands up as if to shield himself from you. “Are you looking for an excuse to feel me up?”

“What!?”

Henry snorted and laughed loudly.

“You’re kidding,” you surmised.

“Yes. You should have seen your face.”

You shook your head while burying your face in your hands. “Wow. That’s not cool.”

“You were an easy target,” Henry said, turning his back to you. “Oil me up, baby.”

You had every intention to, but the side of him from the back stopped you in your tracks for a few moments. As you slowly approached him, you accessed the entire meal that was him before you, unsure where to start. You sprayed over his back then slowly began rubbing across his skin. You couldn’t believe that even his back was as toned as an Olympian. Your brain was slowly short-circuiting with every inch of skin you touched. When you brought your hands down his spine to his tailbone, Henry groaned, and you fought the urge to go lower.

“All—done,” you said slightly above a whisper.

“Not quite,” Henry said, turning to face you. “My chest burns easily too.”

Face to face with temptation; you knew you were destined to give in. it was only a matter of time.

“I thought you could--.”

“—Nope. You started the job, so you should finish it.”

Smiling, you bit your bottom lip. “Does that go for my chest too?”

Henry’s eyes dropped to your breasts and rested there for a few seconds before he looked back into your eyes with a completely cheeky expression on his face. “Well—that is entirely up to you, Ms. Taylor.”

Like a child, you giggled most uncharacteristically. Slapping your hand across your mouth, Henry laughed at you. “Oh god.”

You sprayed across his chest and abs but hesitated touching him. Instead, you stood there gawking at the way his chest glistened. It’s not that you didn’t want to feel. You really, really wanted to feel. You just didn’t think you would be able to not come across as a thirsty fiend. Henry waited patiently waited no doubt taking notice of how you were beginning to hyperventilate. After a minute, he took a step back.

“Here, I’ll finish the job—this time.”

You dropped to the blanket and laid back, trying to recover. You couldn’t believe this was life right now. You’d never been attracted to anyone like this. You never struggled like this with anyone, and that reality was a little alarming. Peeking up, you watched as Henry finished rubbing the sunscreen into his chest, spreading it along his swollen shoulders and bulging arms. Your mouth ran dry while another part of you was anything but.

While proving to be a heightened temptation, a day at the beach was just what the vacation doctors ordered. The roaring sun, the breeze with the salt in the air, and the screams and laughs of people enjoying themselves were wonderful. You didn’t think about work not once, or anything beyond the man beside you reading a book and the book you were reading while the soft sounds of jazz drifted between you. It was perfect.

Every so often, your eyes drifted to Henry and took in different parts of him. Everything you saw you liked, and the fact that you liked it, only helped your brain daydream even more. There were a few times he caught you staring at him just as you caught him staring at you or parts of your body. When you did catch him, it only emboldened you to play up different parts of your body. You were relieved to know he at least still found you attractive.

When he goaded you into the water, the two of you played in the waves. The first time Henry splashed you and got water in your hair, you made gasped and pretended to make a big deal about it, which prompted him to apologize profusely. You considered it payback until you tackled him in the water, holding him underneath until he lifted you in his arms like he was Goliath. Your eyes locked, and there was a moment you thought he would kiss you, but instead, he tossed you into the water. That one action began a water war that he easily won thanks to his colossal size and overpowering strength. You didn’t mind.

By the time you’d sat to enjoy the picnic lunch Henry had packed, only a handful of people had recognized the two of you and asked for autographs and pictures. It really was the perfect first day of vacation, and you already didn’t want it to end. After lunch, you and Henry were walking along the shore, enjoying the lull of water crashing onto your ankles like you had no cares in the world.

~~~~~~~~

-Henry-

You were gorgeous, more gorgeous than you’d ever been. You were drop dead with make-up on, but without you were a knockout. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and he knew you had to know. There was no way that you didn’t. He didn’t start the day with any expectations because he really didn’t know what to expect, but it had turned out to be a great day. He looked across to you and took in your curled and coiled hair that framed your face and gave you an even more youthful glow.

“So your hair is naturally curly?”

You smiled and nodded as you turned to look at him.

“Curly, coiled, kinky, it’s a bunch of stuff.”

“So you straighten it.”

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

He was confused. “Why?”

With your brows knitted together, you took him in. “What do you mean why?”

“Why? I can imagine it takes a lot of time. So, why do you do it?”

You scoffed but didn’t speak right away. He allowed you the time to think.

“Well—in the business, it’s easier. As horrible as it is, there are not many people who will cast the black actress with unruly hair or will have the right people who can do it properly. It’s a huge thing for black actresses, and unfortunately, can be the reason why many don’t get a role. So for me—I guess I got used to directors or photographers preferring the sleek look, so I just—maintain it. No one really cares for this,” you said, motioning to your hair.

He understood what you were saying. Hollywood was fickle; he was living through it right now but couldn’t believe people's ignorance.

“I like your hair right now. I like how free and beautiful it is. You don’t look—bound. You look free.”

Your eyes met his, but he couldn’t read the look in them.

“Oh uh—thank—you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied with a smile. “You should just leave it alone from now on.”

You snorted. “Oh, is this how you want to see me?”

He could hear the tease in your tone, “Free and beautiful? Absolutely.”

Again the look in your eyes stumped him. Before he could ask you what you were thinking, you looked away and back out to the water.

“What if I want to see you like this from now on?”

He chuckled, “What, shirtless with bad hair?”

You laughed with him for a few seconds. “Well, nothing wrong with this view at all,” you said, making him blush.

“Oh, and for the record, your hair is anything but bad. When it’s all slicked to perfection, you look put together, but—I like the more…distressed you. You look free and boundless.”

The smile on his lips hadn’t slipped since you’d begun your walk, and staring at you, he didn’t think it would slip. You looked away and cleared your throat, something you’d been doing a lot the entire day.

“I’ll make a deal with you. You keep this look going, and I’ll keep this look going,” you proposed piquing his interest.

“Do we have a deal?”

“All right, we have a deal,” he sealed, holding out his hand for you to shake. When you did, you smiled mischievously.

“Good,” you said before you pushed him into the water and the incoming wave.

Shock flooded him though he should have known from the glint in your eye he’d picked up.

“Did you really?”

With pride and joy, you nodded, “I sure did.”

As he stood, he wiped his face of the water and chuckled to himself.

“As a gentleman, I will give you a four-second head start,” he announced.

“Four seconds?”

“Three now.”

You squealed and ran down the beach, trying to put as much distance between you as possible. It was futile. He was fast. Once he’d counted down, he took off after you. When you looked back to see him coming, you screamed louder and tried to pick up the speed, but as he said, he was fast. In a few short seconds, he caught you and immediately began tickling you, making you scream even louder.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you shouted through bouts of laughter and screams.

“No, no, too late for that.”

With you in his arms, he brought you to the water facing you out so you could see the massive wave coming in. You screamed again while kicking your legs, trying to get him to drop you, but it was no use. Seeing there was no way out, you stopped screaming, but when he tossed you into the wave, you screamed until the water engulfed you. He stepped back and waited for you to wash up on the shore. When you did, he proceeded to tickle you some more until you tripped him and rolled onto him to retaliate.

Though he hadn’t let on that he was ticklish, you figured it out and exploited it mercilessly. The tickling led to both of you playfully throwing wet sand at each other while waves knocked you down. When he grabbed you, he smeared the wet sand across your chest below your collar, making you scream. That was when you coated his chest down to his waist. He pulled you to him rubbing his chest over yours to make sure you were as lathered as he was.

“Oh my god!”

A wave crashed over the two of you, nearly drowning you—nearly. When the water receded, you were still there in his arms, practically underneath him. he took in your beauty, and all he wanted to do was kiss you. he almost did before he stopped remembering what had led you to this point. He was tired of proving and showing you he wanted you—wanted to be with you. It was your turn to prove to him that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. That was when another wave washed over you, dampening the mood. He was thankful for it.

Once he was standing, he pulled you upright.

“Ready to go?”

You nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

After leaving the beach, the two of you walked along the shops that decorated the surrounding area. He pointed out all the places he’d visited over the last few days. He knew some of the shop owners by their names, and it was something you liked for some reason. After the first few shops, you decided to pick up something for dinner and spent the next few minutes trying to decide just what to get.

“Any special requests?”

Henry’s surprise only lasted a few minutes before the smile you were getting so used to appeared.

“You’re cooking?”

“Yep.”

His surprise turned to awe as he circled you once. “You can pick whatever you want,” he whispered in your ear before he walked to a stack of cans.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded, assuring you that you were good to make the decision.

“Do you eat a lot?”

“Do you?”

“Hell yeah, I do,” you said in an exaggerated tone that had Henry laughing.

As you walked around the store, you placed various items in the basket that Henry carried. Some peppers, scallions, garlic, onions, mushrooms, and plenty of herbs followed before you walked across the way to a seafood shop. You thought about something simple like salmon but changed your mind when you saw lobsters and said what the hell. You were only going to get two, but Henry piped up and tricked you into four, citing your insatiable appetite. Deep down, you wondered what appetite exactly he was referring to, for food or him. A trip to the local spirits shop had you stocked for more than just one night.

When you made it back to the villa, Henry was the one to carry the bags to the kitchen, not letting you lift anything but the beach bag you’d left with at the start of your day. You met him in the kitchen in time to see him hoist everything onto the island.

“All right, you’re all set there.”

“Thank you, Superman.”

He smiled and helped you unpack the items in the bags, laying them out on the counters and the island. Once that was finished, you made a move to the door.

“I’m going to take a shower. I can feel sand everywhere.”

What was to be a relatively quick shower quickly turned long because you needed to wash your hair and treat it, so you didn’t have any residual salt damage. No one liked breaking hair. That alone usually took almost an hour. Instead of going for the full experience, you cut a few corners in the routine but still managed to complete it. After throwing on a pair of shorts and a tank, you made your way back to the kitchen, ready to cook one of the best meals he’d ever have.

With soft music playing and a towel wrapped around your hair while your leave-in heat treatment did what it was made to, you began prepping the ingredients. The soft music and time alone gave you more time to process the perfect day you’d just had. There was nothing about it that you’d change, even down to the intense tension that was constantly between you. If another day played out the same way, you still would think it was perfect.

“All right, I’m clean now. Would you like some help?”

Henry stood behind you in a tank and sweats with his hair full of curls.

“Sure, you can actually prove to me that you know what you’re doing in here,” you teased as he approached your side.

“I’m about to knock your knickers off.”

You snorted and peeped at him. “Promise.”

The flustered look on his face said he just realized the land mind he’s just stepped into. Pushing it to the side, you focused on the chives you were chopping.

“What would you like me to do?”

Looking around the kitchen, you assessed everything that needed to be done then delegated.

“Those veggies need to be rough diced and washed.”

“Consider it done,” Henry replied, stepping away to begin prep. Before he began, though, he walked to one of the bottles of wine you’d just gotten, popped it, and poured two glasses.

“A little vino for you.”

Smiling, you took the glass. “Thank you.”

The two of you worked together chopping, dicing, and slicing the vegetables and herbs and the seafood for dinner. Every few minutes, your eyes met, and you giggled. Once the cooking began, Henry teased you about your towel wrapped hair, saying that was how magazine covers should show you. You watched his form and how he handled his knives and liked how he moved. He handled knives like he’d been doing it his whole life.

When you saw him perfectly Julianne cut the cucumbers you practically drooled and were ready to push him against that island. You loved a man who could handle himself in the kitchen. Pumping iron and weights and a nice body was great, but cooking dinner for someone because you care, was a supreme turn on.

When the lobster was steaming and the potatoes boiling, you leaned beside him and watched him kneed the dough he was prepping for what he called his famous sugar rolls.

“So mentioned you have nieces or nephews? I don’t remember which,” you began.

“Yes. Three nephews, no nieces.”

“Cool. What’re their names?”

Henry smiled as he spoke, “James and Peter and Lucas.”

“Strong names.”

“Yeah, Nik and Charlie picked them,” he said.

“Nik—he’s the older brother, right?”

“Oldest. I’m surprised you remember.”

“No girl?”

“Ha, Charlie really wants a girl. He has a son Lucas but dreams about having a daughter.”

“Nice. I have two nephews, Niko and Milo, and a niece Aloa, my oldest sister Miesha,” you added.

The way Henry smiled, you could tell he liked kids. “That’s nice. Do you see them a lot?”

“I try. It’s hard, though, with my schedule.”

He nodded, then shifted to the sink to rinse off the cucumbers before beginning with the carrots.

“I understand.”

With your curiosity piqued, you decided to dive right in. “So you like kids.”

“Love kids,” he replied. “You?”

“Uh—yeah. They’re precious.”

“I’m guessing you’re close to your brothers.”

“Oh god, yes, really, really close. We talk several times a day. They’re my first call when something good or bad happens, and it’s the same for them.”

“That’s good. I’m close to mine too. We don’t talk every day, but I try. I do have a twin, so we don’t need to talk. We just know what’s going on with each other,” you explained.

“How is that having a twin?”

You shrugged and put a piece of cucumber into your mouth. “It’s everyday like for me. I don’t know what to say,” you said with a small chuckle.

“Are all the clichés true?”

You scoffed and went back to keeping yourself busy. “What clichés exactly?”

“Oh, you know that you feel each other’s pain and feel what the other feels, oh that you know what they’re thinking.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “It’s not like I fall down the stairs, and he feels me fall. That’s just impossible.”

Henry nodded and moved to rinse the carrots.

“Yeah, it’s more like a constant presence I feel. You—you never really feel alone, sort of like this constant connection or feeling like someone always has your back. We can feel what the other feels a lot of the time, but it’s sort of like a gut feeling more than an actual physical feeling. There are times he’ll feel when I’m sad and crying, and it’s incredibly annoying.”

“I can imagine,” Henry started.

Feeling his eyes on you, you turned to face him and waited for him to speak.

“Does he feel everything—your moments of happiness or—pleasure?”

Snorting, you laughed loudly, unable to keep it in.

“Happiness, I think there could be valid proof to that. As for pleasure, no idea. It’s never been brought up but kinda creepy to think about that.”

You both busted out laughing, realizing just how creepy it would be if there were any validity to that. Cooking together turned out to be really fun. Usually, you hated people in your space, but with Henry, you didn’t mind it at all. You didn’t mind the subtle way his body brushed yours whenever he passed you. You didn’t mind the sly looks across the kitchen when he took a sip of his wine. You didn’t mind the flirtation in the air, and when he watched you make your lemon cake for dessert, you didn’t mind that he was learning one of your secret recipes. It was something you felt you could get used to.

Two hours later, you were bringing out one of the platters to the dining table in the yard just in time to catch Henry putting a clay vase filled with beautiful lavender and rapeseed flowers. The purple and yellow combo was so bright it looked like it belonged with the décor around you.

“Wow, would you look at that,” you began eyeing the perfectly set table. “You can set a table too.”

His smile was wide. “I sure can.”

“With the proper place settings. I’m impressed.”

He ran his fingers through his hair and slowly licked his lips as he shrugged. “I didn’t go to finishing school or anything but--,” Henry trailed off, making you laugh at the sly reference to you.

“Oh, okay, Mr. Cavill.”

You backed away with your hands raised, making your way back to the kitchen with him following close behind. You pointed to him the items to go, and he walked with you back outside.

“I know you think I eat a lot, but--.”

“Oh, stop it. I am sure you have to have a high-calorie intake to maintain your Superman shape, so—ta-da,” you said, giving him jazz hands in front of the food-filled table.

“Oh, so you’re looking out for me, huh.”

“Of course. What else is your girlfriend supposed to do?”

Henry’s smile slowly slipped before it reappeared but only for a second. “Girlfriend, huh?”

Just like that, your stomach fell through the floor, fully realizing what you’d said. Now you felt like an idiot especially seeing his reaction.

“Um—well--.”

Not waiting for you to respond, Henry walked to your chair and pulled it out for you.

“Uh—give me a second,” you said, bending forward to pull the towel off of your head.

It had been well past the forty-five minutes you usually kept it on for, and you didn’t want to eat with this heavy thing on your head. Using your fingers, you combed through your curls then stood up to face him. This was practically the first time you stood before a man that wasn’t part of your family with your hair natural. You hated that you felt self-conscience about it. The look on his face was a lot different this time. His eyes were wide, and his mouth ajar.

“Sorry. Thanks,” you said, slipping into the chair.

Once he’d pushed you in, he sat across from you.

“So I know you love your beer and steak,” you began with a smile. “So the steak is cooked in Guinness—a lot of Guinness.”

Henry chuckled and assessed the steak on his plate while nodding.

“Bon appetite.”

Once henry put a slice of the steak in his mouth, he moaned and gave you the chef’s kiss. You knew exactly what it meant, the good ol seal of approval.

“This is really good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

After putting another slice of steak into his mouth, he nodded. “I love it. you’re a great cook.”

“Thank you. I tried to tell you.”

Henry chuckled, giving you a slight roll of his eyes before he continued eating. He was right dinner was good. While you ate, you enjoyed the setting sun and conversation about music, good food, and good wine. One bottle of wine quickly finished, then you were cracking open another and another. When dinner was finished, you sat there listening to the stories of his childhood where his mother played referee between five boys. The way he talked about her made her sound like a saint. It was clear to see how much he admired and loved her. That made you like him even more.

By the time you climbed into bed for the night, your mind was racing a mile a minute, and all your thoughts were of Henry and the probability that he just might be the perfect man. That thought scared you even more than there being something wrong with him. If he were perfect, then it meant he was perfect for you, and perfect for you meant commitment, complications, and vulnerability while opening the stage for possible heartbreak. Even through the fear, one constant remained—you wanted him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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milstrim · 4 years ago

Text

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 4: Uninvited

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

Peter didn't really wake up the next morning, because he hadn't really fallen asleep last night. He'd been incredibly tired, but his hair hadn't been able to lay flat and he hadn't been able to block out the overwhelmingly disgusting smell of Mr. Fowler's closet. He'd been it the entirety of the day and even throughout the night when Mr. Fowler stomped into the room and passed out on the bed. The lilting stumbles in his steps made Peter think he'd been drunk and had likely forgotten about the kid trapped in his closet.

So he hadn't really slept, but his eyes had been closed--the darkness of his eyes was better than that of the closet--until the door had finally swung open, allowing Peter his first full breath in almost a whole day. The dankness of Mr. Fowler's room was a thousand times better than the closet. An arm had grabbed his own, pulling him roughly to his feet and out of the closet. His legs had ached with the disuse, but he'd stumbled to his feet nonetheless.

"Are you going to talk back to me again, son?" Mr. Fowler had asked, a horrible pleasantness to his voice. Peter had shaken his head. Something had been shoved into his hands, and he'd fumbled only to realize it was his wallet. "There. The card doesn't work anymore, so you can have that piece of shit back. Now get out of here."

"O-okay. Thank you," he'd said, stumbling out of the room and into the bathroom that he'd been deprived of for almost twenty-four hours. Once he'd finished and washed his hands, he'd searched through his wallet.

His few crumpled bills had been taken, but the pictures stuffed inside had been left alone, and the black card had sat crammed in a pocket. He'd grabbed it with fumbling fingers, brows furrowing. It didn't work anymore? Had the man maxed it out? Peter had swallowed, a pit forming in his stomach as he thought about what the hell he'd bought to do that. Probably a lot of alcohol had been his guess.

He really, really hoped that Mr. Stark couldn't see his purchases.

After a quick shower, in which he'd had to sit down his vision had swam so much, he'd rushed out the door with his beaten up backpack swinging off of his shoulder. He knew he probably should have stayed to check on the other kids who'd had to listen to the fight last night and might need help with homework, but the teenager couldn't stand to be in that house for any longer. Everything smelled like Mr. Fowler's awful closet and he just needed to be out in the bright Sunday sun. He wanted to find just a little comfort in his shadow that he'd been deprived of the night before.

So he'd changed into his suit and swung around for most of the day, flipping for some overly excited middle schoolers and directing an old man from Ukraine visiting his son who lived in Harlem and ignoring the pain in his stomach. When there was a lull in the late afternoon, he strung a web between two buildings and just did as many daring flips and handstands as he could. It was a feeble attempt to distract himself from the events of the past few days.

Hits and threats from Mr. Fowler were nothing new, in fact, they were a staple in the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, but last night had been different. He'd never been trapped like that in the group home. He'd always had a lot of free reign as long as he operated within the curfew and got his chores done, but yesterday was like someone had flipped a switch on that, and he was still reeling from the terror.

Or that could be the hunger eating through his stomach. Peter stopped flipping on the web for a moment, instead laying down and balancing himself on the thin string as his stomach growled so hard he flinched. He wouldn't even be getting anything today. When did his grounding end again? He was pretty sure it was Thursday, but he wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Fowler extended it after last night. Maybe he could stop by Ned's and get a granola bar or something.

The teenager looked down at the ground to stare at Mr. Stark's shadow, blinking as he realized it was no longer clothed in normal attire, or a sharp business suit, but rather the larger outline of what he could now identify as the Iron Man armor. He narrowed his eyes, wondering what the man must be doing. Probably something really important.

Peter sighed, moving to sit up, when a sound made him pause. He cocked his head before finally turning in the direction of the mechanical whine to make out the Iron Man suit flying towards him.

Huh.

He tried to feign disinterest, laying back down on the web and placing his hands underneath his head as the suit landed on the nearest building rooftop and Mr. Stark stepped out, but Peter couldn't lie to himself about how excited he really was to see the man.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," he greeted from the web.

"Hey, kid."

"Um, thanks for the letter." Please don't ask about the card. Please don't ask about the card. "Are you sure about the phone, though? I mean, that thing looks like it could cost as much as a house."

"Keep it, kid, I gave it to you for a reason," Mr. Stark said, waving him off. Peter watched him warily as he sat down on the edge of the building, shuffling nervously. Peter smiled to see the man very clearly out of his element, as if he would let him fall anyway. "So, how's your day been?"

Peter shrugged. "Fine."

"No hangovers or anything?" Peter froze. "Can you even get drunk? Cap can't."

The teenager hesitated before answering. It was either 'I bought a bunch of adult stuff with your credit card' or 'My foster father bought a bunch of adult stuff with your credit card.' He wasn't sure which one was better, but there didn't seem to be much to win from lying, not that there was much to gain from telling the truth either.

"I don't know," Peter responded honestly as he sat up on the web to stare at the shadow on the ground. The imitation felt more comforting than the real thing at that moment.

"You don't know? You bought three hundred dollars of pure liquor."

"Three hundred--Oh, jeez. I'm really sorry, Mr. Stark."

Mr. Stark blinked at him for a second before his gaze softened.

"You didn't buy any of that stuff, did you?" Peter shook his head. "Who? Andrew Fowler?" A moment. A nod. "Okay, I'll just deactivate that card and give you a new one."

"No, it's fine, Mr. Stark," Peter said, pulling his wallet out of his hoodie pocket and showing him the black card. "He gave it back. I think he was annoyed that it was, like, maxed out or something."

"Well, it is most definitely not maxed out--there's a lot more than three hundred on that, kid--but I'm glad you got it back."

"Thanks."

There was a minute of awkward silence before Mr. Stark rolled his shoulders and sat up straighter.

"So, no tower yesterday?"

Peter suddenly remembered the little note at the end of his letter. He shrugged bashfully, mumbling, "Yeah, sorry, uh Mr--Mr. Fowler kept us pretty busy yesterday. Chore day, so."

"Wanna stop by now?"

Peter looked up at him in surprise. It was a wonder this man didn't hate him yet. The foster parents Peter had before Mr. Fowler had gotten sick of him pretty quickly, or just hadn't been very attached in the first place, while the majority of his teachers regarded him with either pity or disdain at his situation and record. As far as Mr. Stark knew, he had an accident-prone, snotty teenager as a soulmate whose favorite pass time was to be a juvenile delinquent.

And yet, the mechanic regarded him with a soft smile. A little strained, but welcoming nonetheless. It unfurled something in his chest.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Yeah!--I mean, sure sure, that'd be fun." Mr. Stark gave him an amused smile as the teenager stepped off of his web and onto the roof of the building. With a quick glance and a rare smile, Peter leaped off the roof, enjoying the way Mr. Stark yelped in surprise. Peter called, "Beat you there!!"

He did not, in fact, beat Mr. Stark to the tower. To be fair, the man was in a suit that flew faster than a jet and Peter was only propelled by physics and muscles.

The teenager watched from a short distance as the Iron Man suit paused in front of a higher point in the tower, faced him for a moment, and then dove through the window. He raised an eyebrow, but doubled down in catching up to the man, only barely managing to swing himself high enough so that he wouldn't have to crawl his way up more than a couple of stories.

Finally, just a few minutes later than Mr. Stark, he rolled through the window and landed hard on the floor just a little unsteadily, not that he cared in the slightest. There were much more interesting things to care about in that moment.

"Whoa..."

"You like it?" Mr. Stark called from across the lab. Peter nodded dumbly, staring, widemouthed, at the state of the art equipment decorating just about every inch of the room. There were cases of Iron Man armor lining the walls, robots rolling around--he managed a laugh at one with a dunce cap sweeping the ground with a broom inefficiently--and tables filled with projects Peter couldn't even begin to dream of. "You can take your mask off here, kid. No one's going to see you."

Mr. Stark's voice pulled him back to reality, drawing him further into the room hesitantly. He glanced at the man, but realized dimly that his spider sense had finally calmed down. This wasn't the danger he'd felt after being fished out of the lake, or the feeling that had been following him since, it was a normal calm mixed with just a hint of nerves.

He tugged his mask off.

Mr. Stark stared at him, a soft look on his face, before finally tearing his gaze away when Peter shuffled uncomfortably.

"Sorry, kid," he apologized. "Didn't mean to freak you out. Just..."

"Just what?"

"It's just nice to see you, Peter."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he just offered the billionaire a strained smile and stepped over to the desk the man was standing at. He felt more than a little out of place, but his curiosity overwhelmed his discomfort as he glanced over a shiny metal case held lightly in the billionaire's hands in interest. Mr. Stark tapped it when he caught the boy looking.

"This, kid," he said, sliding it over, "is for you."

Peter caught it effortlessly, his fingers light and hesitant as he glanced from it to Mr. Stark, his head down.

"I can't accept this, Mr. Stark. You already--"

Mr. Stark interrupted by reaching over and pressing something on the case. It sprang open, spooking Peter enough for him to take a step back but holding his attention as he caught sight of the bright red fabric. The eyes were what really caught his attention, looking unreasonably cool and intimidating. Peter mumbled, "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen."

Mr. Stark chuckled. "Good thing it's yours."

"It's--" He gaped at the man. "Mr. Stark, I really can't accept--"

"Too bad," he interrupted. "It's a gift and it's rude to turn down a gift. So, there's a bathroom right over there if you want to try it on. Give it a whirl?"

After a moment of hesitation, he closed the case, thanked Mr. Stark, and headed to the bathroom to change.

---

When Peter stepped out of the bathroom in the new suit, Tony couldn't help but frown. He covered it up as quickly as possible, but the sentiment still remained as his eyes roamed over the kid. He was muscular, sure, but he was so thin that it practically hurt. The teenager's ribs were practically there just for him to count and worry about. He filed it away for later as Peter turned to look at him, the mask's eyes narrowing.

"Looking good, hotshot," Tony said. "How's it feel?"

"It's awesome, Mr. Stark," Peter responded, his hands held out in front of him as he tapped the webshooters. "It smells like a new car!"

Tony couldn't help his laugh. "If you think that's cool, just wait. Friday, Babysitter Protocol."

"Babysitter--" Peter cut off with a confused yelp as his suit lit up blue, the AI in his suit supposedly greeting him. The kid cocked his head. "Oh, hi. Nice to meet you too."

Tony turned away, letting the kid and the AI get acquainted as he pulled out his phone and ordered a few pizzas. Five might be enough. Steve had always eaten a lot, and even if he didn't manage to burn through the best pizza in the city, the kid could definitely use leftovers. He entered the order and shifted back to observe the kid again.

"--uh, Liz? No, no, that's weird. How about Karen?" A moment as he waited for a response. "Fun. Nice. Cool, this is so cool."

Tony smiled, unable to tear his eyes away from the kid. His soulmate. His little shadow.

Peter turned to look at him after a few minutes, muttering a quick goodbye to the AI--Karen, he guessed--before tugging the mask off again. There was a hesitant smile tugging at his thin face. Much too thin. How many pizzas would it take to get the kid back to even a semi-healthy weight? Probably way too many.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Stark," Peter said. "I really can't thank you enough."

"Please, you can thank me by not thanking me. Pepper says my ego's already a little off of the charts." Peter laughed and Tony couldn't help his grin. "Wanna stay over for dinner? I ordered pizza."

Peter hesitated, but after a moment he answered, "Alright," which was so much better than the kid regarding him defensively or looking like he was constantly on the edge of running away again. And, as it turned out, Peter fit more easily into his life than he could have thought.

In barely thirty minutes, the kid was sat beside him at a desk filled with vials of web fluid and pieces of Iron Man armor, an old, frayed hoodie of Tony's slipped over the suit, and a stack of freshly baked pizza laid out in front of them. Peter sat in the chair next to him as the mechanic ran through the schematics of his suit, hanging on every single word.

"...most of the framing is between the protective layers of your suit, completely waterproof by the way, if you ever get yourself into another lake. You also have a parachute if you pass the three thousand feet threshold."

Peter glanced over his shoulder in surprise. "There's a parachute in this thing? How?"

Tony tapped his back where he knew the spider logo was. "A magician never reveals their secrets."

"Did you compress all the air out of it? Or build it into the wiring on the patch on my back somehow?"

"Both are true." He took a bite of pizza. "You're pretty smart, huh?"

Peter ducked his head with a shrug. "Sorta. I can figure out chemistry, but that's about it."

"I don't believe that for a second, but we'll stick with the modesty for now." Peter huffed out a laugh, spinning the hologram of his suit and staring at it in complete adoration. It dragged a smile onto Tony's face.

Peter had a sort of ruggedness to him, a desperate scrappiness, but it was embarrassingly easy to see that that wasn't all there was to the teenager. His rambles were fast and excited, his scarce smiles adorably bright and always lighting up his doe eyes. There was a kind of spark to Peter that Tony couldn't explain, and, though he was sorry that the kid was saddled with him, he couldn't have wished for a better soulmate.

Apparently, five pizzas ended up being a great number, because Peter ate everything Tony offered him. He was practically a human garbage disposal, though much more polite. Tony was glad that the kid was filling up, but it made him seriously question how much he was getting at that group home. After letting the kid get comfortable for about an hour, he voiced it.

"Do they feed you where you live, kid? I swear, you just put down over ten thousand calories."

Peter paused on the slice he was eating, swallowing before putting it back on the plate nervously, and Tony immediately regretted ever opening his big, fat mouth.

"Yeah. They--Mr. Fowler feeds us fine. Just, enhanced metabolism, so." He shrugged. It was said so nervously that it felt like an outright lie, but Tony left it alone.

"Okay. Good to know. Just make sure to use that card whenever you get hungry, kid. I'm not having my soulmate starve."

At his mention of being soulmates, Peter glanced over his shoulder to stare at their shadows. Right now they almost looked like their own shadows, mirror images of each other, but if you looked hard enough you could see the slight difference in hair texture and the distinctive widths of their shoulders.

"It must've been weird," Peter said. Tony glanced at him in confusion. "Not having a shadow. You didn't get one until I was born, right?"

"Oh. Yeah," Tony agreed. He swallowed as he admitted, "Thought I was broken for the longest time. It was the best day of my life when your tiny little baby shadow appeared at my feet... What about you? Always had a grown man following you around, huh?"

"That sounded creepy, Mr. Stark." Tony just grinned cheekily. "It was nice, actually, always having you there. Like--like a guardian or something."

"And now you've got the real thing." Peter rolled his eyes and Tony pointed at him. "Ah, there's that good ol' sass I was looking for. I was afraid I'd lost it."

"Uhuh. You're kinda weird, Mr. Stark."

"Right back at you, little shadow." Peter smiled at the nickname before glancing out the window where the sky was a deep russet red. "Time for you to head out?"

"Yeah. I've still got some homework to do."

The two stood up and walked over to the window. Peter moved to take the hoodie he'd been wearing off, but Tony stopped him. "Keep it. I've got plenty."

"Oh, thanks, Mr. Stark."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm so generous. Have fun with the suit, kid, I'll see you soon."

"When?"

Tony paused, looking over at the kid who had only just begun to pull the mask over his head, hopeful eyes staring at him. He desperately wanted to tell the kid he'd pick him up from school tomorrow so that they could hang out in the lab again, but he knew he genuinely didn't have any time. He'd been putting off packing for a few too many days.

"After we move. I'll pick you up from school on Friday. We can go explore the compound together. Sound good?"

Peter nodded. "Yep. Real good, Mr. Stark."

"You can call me Tony, Mr. Parker," he joked.

Peter pulled the mask down and jumped out the window with a call of. "See you Friday, Mr. Stark!"

Tony's shoulders shook with laughter.

---

Friday. Peter couldn't wait for Friday. With a burst of excitement and energy he hadn't had in a while, Peter flipped in the air and let out a WHOOO! only catching himself at the last second before flipping back up.

"Wow, this suit is so intuitive!" he exclaimed, shooting another web.

"I am glad you think so, Peter," Karen responded, shocking him so bad he nearly let go of his web. Oh, yeah, he'd forgotten he had an AI now. Man, Mr. Stark was so cool. "I am currently taking feedback for the suit's systems in case anything needs to be changed on Friday. Would you like to rate the suit's webshooters?"

"Oh, full eleven out of ten, Karen. It's great."

"Thank you for the feedback, Peter, I have sent a note to Mr. Stark."

"Oh." Peter blushed. "You didn't have to tell him that, Karen."

"Why not? He has asked for feedback."

"No, it's not--" He cut himself off, sighing as he flipped himself into a large arc. "I just don't want to bother him. He's already been so nice to me."

"Mr. Stark has asked for feedback, Peter."

"It's not the--it's not the feedback, Karen," he tried to explain.

"I do not understand."

He spluttered and then sighed, waving it off. "Whatever. It's fine, Karen, just forget it."

"Of course, Peter. Would you like me to show you the quickest route home?"

Peter hesitated. He did have a lot of homework to do, and Eric probably needed help with his reading, but he had to swallow down fear at the thought of being in the same room as Mr. Fowler again. It was irrational--it was so stupid--and Peter knew it, but he couldn't stop the way his hands seemed to shake and his entire body quail.

"Actually, let's take the scenic route. Really test out the suit, y'know?"

"Of course, Peter. Planning now."

A blue line appeared on screen, leading Peter back to the group home. He muttered, "So cool."

Spider-Man was only halfway back to the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, finally across the bridge and back into his home territory, when his spider sense went off again. He immediately glanced down at his shadow, which had lengthened as the sun set, for some kind of comfort or guidance. But of course, there wasn't one. It was just a shadow.

A little put off by the shiver that had run down his spine, he attached himself to the side of the building, staring out over the street. Nothing too out of the normal. People hurrying on the sidewalk, cars honking down the street, and shadows following along aimlessly.

"Karen. What's going on?"

"What do you mean, Peter?" the AI asked.

"It's just--there's something wrong. Maybe--" At a second shiver up his spine, Peter turned to look at where his senses were directing him at the ringing of a bell.

It was a small bodega, its door swung open as two men stepped inside in unreasonably thick coats for the warm weather. He narrowed his eyes, and the suit zoomed in with him, scanning the men before they disappeared through the door.

"What's the time, Karen?"

"7:30."

"Alright, we're good then. Plenty of time." He swung over to the bodega, attaching himself to the wall above the door, out of sight of the occupants inside. His senses had yet to calm down, so he assumed that he was right about this being a robbery. "Ready to test out the suit, Karry Berry?"

"I am always ready, Peter."

"Y'know, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

"Does that mean I should assign you a nickname too?"

"Definitely! Think about it for a moment and get back to me after we do this," Peter exclaimed in an excited mumble, straining his ears to hear whatever was going on inside. There was the tense calm of nothing for a moment, and then a shuffle and a squeak followed by a spike in his senses. He muttered to himself. "Finally."

He kept his ears strained on the actions going on inside, dropping down in front of the door quietly to watch what was happening. There was a teenager at the register, her hands fumbling with the register while the two men from earlier in their dark coats pointed shotguns at her. He could see tears streaming down the girl's face, clearly terrified.

Peter crept forward, picking up on the muttered conversation inside.

"--just open the register, keep it quiet," the closest man said in a raspy voice. "Hand everything over nice and quick."

"It's--it doesn't open," the girl cried. "It doesn't open unless a purchase is made and--"

The man flinched forward. "Do I look like I care? Just open it!"

Finally having heard enough, Peter placed his fingers against the door and pulled it open as quietly as possible.

Ding!

Peter froze. Heads turned. Curses flew.

The superhero darted forward as the gun pointed at him, firing a shot that missed him completely as he dove behind a grocery aisle of gummies and pregnancy tests. Bodegas really were something. Peter crouched down, muttering under his breath, "Fuck that stupid bell."

"Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark to your predicament?" Karen asked.

"What? No! I can deal with this, Karen, just watch."

"I like the new look," came the voice of the man that had shot at him. "New government sugar daddy or something?"

Peter blanched. "I really wish that that would stop being people's first assumption. People can be platonic y'know!"

There was a scoff and the sound of something warping. Peter's eyes narrowed, peeking around the grocery shelf and then immediately ducking back. The man, the one who hadn't shot at him, had pulled out a large and glowing weapon that looked incredibly similar to the one that had been at the ATM robbery. Man, he was getting really sick of those things.

The teenage girl had looked okay, shivering behind the desk and thankfully not making any moves to alert the police, as far as he could tell anyway. The last thing he needed was cops showing up in such a tense situation. And his first time using the new suit! That would be just plain embarrassing.

"Platonic or not, I don't give a shit," Normal Gun Man said. "A new look isn't going to change your situation. So either come out, or we shoot you."

"I don't know if you can shoot me while I'm back here soooo."

There was a click and a squeak. "Yeah? What about her?"

Okay. So that was a little different.

Without hesitation, Peter stepped out from behind the aisle shelf, his arms raised half-heartedly in the air. The two men had ski masks over their face--not quite as fun as the Avengers masks, but it'd do--but he could still see the honestly nervous smile of the man holding the gun. Clearly he hadn't expected the arrival of Queens favorite vigilante.

"Good to know that you can comply," Normal Gun Guy said. Alien Gun Guy had the weird blue gun pointed at Peter, but the shotgun was still directed at the worker. He chose his target.

"Not really."

With a flick, he webbed the shotgun and slammed it into the wall. There was a startled scream at the same moment his hairs stood on end. Peter only managed to jump forward before he was encased in a blue light that gave him quite possibly the worst headache of his entire life. He hated the feeling of that stupid thing. He didn't quite know what it was, but it felt like something out of The Incredibles. Like Syndrome and shit.

"Ugh! This thing is so weird!" Peter complained in a warped yell. Alien Gun Guy gave him a brutish look and then swung him through the window.

Peter grunted as he crashed through the window, wincing at the clinking shatter of glass that broke under him, but, surprisingly, none of the glass managed to grab at him and slice through his skin, even as he was shot across the street from the force of the alien weapon, only stopping when he thudded against the wall. He groaned as the air was forced out of him.

At least the suit had kept him from getting cut.

"Ugh... The hell." The teenager shook his head, forcing himself back to his feet, clinging to the wall for just a moment as he blinked out dizziness. Remembering himself, he turned back to the bodega across the street, panicking when his head pounded. That wasn't from being hit, that was his spider sense.

The men ran out of the door, hulking along a cash register and a handful of cigarette packs, but the teenage girl had yet to leave and his head only pounded harder. Spider-Man dashed across the road, leaping through the already broken window, his breath catching as he caught sight of the purple thing sitting on the ground in the middle of the bodega. It whined, louder and louder.

Bomb. Bomb!

Peter's head shot around so fast he physically winced, but he caught sight of the teenager behind the counter. Working on instinct, he jumped over the counter as the whine reached its apex, wrapping his arms around the girl and pushing himself between her and the bomb. He squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as possible, gritting his teeth.

The world shook and she let out a surprised cry into his shoulder but didn't let go. Peter barely managed to hold down a whimper of fear. Be brave, be a hero. Be brave, be a hero. He could do it. He was fine.

He was fine.

Peter blinked his eyes open, moving carefully to peer over the counter.

"Dammit," he muttered. The rest of the windows had shattered, and just about every product in the store had been knocked back and now littered the ground. A tile fell from the ceiling, making him tense his shoulders. They'd gotten away. Some hero he was.

"I have a nickname for you, Peter," Karen said in his ear. He frowned in annoyance. Well, he had told her to tell him once the situation was over.

"Great," he snapped, stepping over the counter, his boot crunching on the glass. "What is it?"

"Peter-butter!"

"...Okay that's actually pretty good."

---

After double checking that the cashier was alright, Peter had fled the scene, cursing himself for how bad it had gone. Nobody had died, but that wasn't really the standard he was looking for. If anything, he'd really just made everything worse. Stupid, Parker, stupid!

The teenager sighed, dipping into the dark alleyway where his backpack had been left earlier. He grabbed it from under the crate of boxes where he'd hidden it, pressing the spider emblem on his chest, allowing the suit to cascade off of him. Frustrated, Peter ripped the mask off and untangled himself from the fabric at his feet, stuffing the items in his faded blue bag and jumping back into his own clothes, and, after a moment of hesitation, slipped into the hoodie that Mr. Stark had given him.

He pulled the bag over his shoulder and buried his hands into his pockets as he stepped out of the alleyway and back onto the streets in the direction of the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys. His brows were furrowed and his face squished into a deep frown. He couldn't believe he'd been given a superhero suit by literally Iron Man and he'd screwed it up immediately. He chittered nervously at the thought of Mr. Stark seeing what had happened at the bodega and realizing just how shit of a superhero his soulmate was.

As he was debating the likely-hood of Mr. Stark taking the suit back and never talking to him again for his screw up, his phone buzzed. Hesitantly, Peter pulled it out to find two texts waiting for him. One from Ned and one from Mr. Stark.

He clicked on the one from Ned first. The text app opened up to show Peter a grainy picture of him in his new suit followed by Ned's message of 'Excuse me??? tf is this?? tell me everything rn or im going to die'

Peter smiled faintly, making a mental note to call his friend in a few minutes. With a deep breath, he clicked on Mr. Stark's message.

Mr. Stark: I saw the news. You okay?

Peter blinked. He wasn't mad? He chewed on his lip as he sent a response, 'All good. Sorry I freaked you out.'

Mr. Stark texted back almost immediately, 'No problem. Just glad you're good. Text ya later, kiddo.'

And that was that, Peter supposed. No...no nothing, really. He'd expected a lot more resistance or opposition from the billionaire, but he wasn't mad that he hadn't gotten any. He was about to call Ned when his phone buzzed again.

Mr. Stark: 'P.S. You can talk to and text Karen through your phone. Knock yourself out, Peter-butter.'

Well, that was embarrassing. But still kinda cool.

With a shake of his head, he finally dialed Ned's number. His friend only picked up after two rings with a breathless greeting.

"Yo, what the hell is up with that suit? Did Mr. Stark make it for you? Are you super hero buddies now!!? Officially his sidekick!!?"

Peter smiled, shaking his head in amusement as he stopped at a streetlight. "Yeah, Mr. Stark made it for me. It's cool right? It even has an AI!"

"It has an AI!!? Please, please, tell me you'll let me look at it."

"Duh. Yeah, you can look at it. We can go to your house after school." Peter thought for a moment, thinking of the alien weapons. He'd messed up today, probably disappointed Mr. Stark, but if he could take the whole operation down... "Besides, I need your help with something."

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

#friendly neighborhood exchange #peter parker #tony stark #Iron Man #spiderman #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #ironman fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #not st*rker

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jay-the-day-away · 4 years ago

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My World Is Ending

🚨Trigger warning🚨: Abuse/physical child abuse (mentioned, not described in detail), child neglect, suicide and suicidal ideation.

Please don't read if this will upset or trigger you.

So this is gonna sound fucking stupid because I'm relating it to the absolute shit-show that was Supernatural, but I think I understand Dean Winchester's dependency on his little brother a little better now.

Basically, my parents were shitty so I took up a lot of the responsibilities of raising my sister. I'm only about 2 years older but I matured really fast (as trauma from abuse will sometimes cause), and I used every method at my disposal to make sure she didn't have to.

I bathed her. I gave her whatever food I could manage to cook. I tucked her into bed. I helped her do her homework. I taught her all the games I knew how to play and all the songs I could remember how to sing. When we eventually got seperate rooms she would sleepwalk to mine and crawl in bed next to me (I was never sure if she was actually sleepwalking or if she was just scared).

I dropped out of high school (I later got my GED) and started working at 14. Financially, my parents could have provided for us, but often neglected to. This was also during the time in which the physical abuse I was suffering escalated. My parents divorced and didn't tell us until one day my father abruptly packed his things and left. My older brother had already been drinking and smoking by that point, and was an asshole to me so we left each other alone. My mother was frequently gone and when she was there she was awful. I was used to it all. My father was in the army so he'd been gone before, my brother had never wanted anything to do with me and spent all his time alone, and my mother had been spending nights out somewhere forever. (When I was younger I used to try calling her to ask where she was, she never answered but she always came home eventually). My sister was being emotionally affected by everything, she started lashing out at me any time I tried to tell her she had to do something. "You're not my mom!" became her favorite phrase. Those words still hurt.

My sister started high school. She mellowed out a bit. I gave her lunch money and picked her up from school after work. She played Hamilton in the car and we each sang different parts. Most days we got take-out and I'd find ways to ask about her day. "How was school?" wouldn't get a real answer, but "Have you memorized your parts in choir?" would often get a whole performance, and "What are you working on in theater?" an explanation. It wasn't really a surprise, she'd been singing almost non-stop ever since she learned how.

She started taking driver's education. I was beyond terrified. I helped her memorize the road signs and she got her permit. My mother kept telling her she was bad at driving, I kept saying everyone is bad at driving at first. One day I layed back and closed my eyes in the backseat, I was only resting for a minute but after she glanced back I heard her whisper to my mother that she was glad I trusted her enough to sleep. I kept my eyes closed the whole way home. She got her license and I gave her my car (that had been passed down to me) and bought another used one.

She was in a bunch of plays throughout high school. I went to every performance I could, I must have seen each play 6 or 7 times each. Every show I looked for little details to compliment or discuss with her. I loved quoting them to her and watching her face light up when she realised I still remembered months later.

She started applying for colleges. Her last day of high school is this week. Her graduation is Saturday morning. When she leaves at the end of July, she'll be going many states and miles away. I'm so proud of her. I'm so sad. I feel like my world is ending.

Last night we watched a horror movie. She was so scared she asked me to sleep in her bed with her. The sun is almost completely risen, and I haven't slept. I keep looking over at her, like I'm scared she won't be there. The tears keep coming, but I just wipe them away and try to breathe through it. I'll probably never get to lay next to her all night again, and definitely not in this house. My baby is grown up.

I've had depression as long as I can remember. I used to think I knew pain, the gaping darkness of the inevitable future has proved me wrong. What will I have without her? Who will I even be? For so long I haven't looked more than a few days ahead. The chasm of a life without her was never something I considered, never something I realised would eventually happen. My world is ending. I spent so long with the knowledge that she relied on me being there, yet somehow I never realised I relied on her being there too. I kept going because of her, now I don't know how I will without her.

So yeah, I think I get some things about Dean now. I get the overprotectiveness. The constant fear of not being good enough. I get why he looks at Sam like he's going to disappear or leave. I understand selling his soul to a demon to bring Sam back to life. Being willing to let the world burn if it means this one person is okay. I see why later, when Dean thought Sam was dead, he downed a shit ton of pills.

Anyone who's spoken to me lately knows I'm not in a good place, but it's hard to find things that seem worth living for when your world is already ending.

(I have to survive this, she might need me later.

How will I survive this?)

#abusive mother #abusive parents #depression #tw suicude #john winchester's a+ parenting #spn #supernatural #codependancy #rant #rant time #sorry guys

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walkwithheroes84 · 4 years ago

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Immortals After Dark (Half Way) Series Thoughts And Couples Ranked

I started reading the Immortals After Dark series by Kresley Cole on February 5th, 2021. In the last twelve days, I've read roughly half the series. And, believe me, I was crushed to find out that the last book was released in 2017. The fandom is dead and the author - whether due to publisher issues, health issues, or a mixture of both - hasn’t been active on any social media platforms since 2019.

I have some mixed feelings on the series, but since I have no one to share them with, I’ve decided to put them here. I chose to read this series because I liked the idea of it: immortal beings, preparing for a major “battle”, all while dealing with last-minute villains and finding their true soulmates. Yeah, I’ll read that. So, what have I liked about the series?

Let’s start with the fact that it is very clear that Kresley Cole had a major game plan in mind. Hints of future books, hints of storylines, and future important characters are introduced in every book. Since most of the novels take place around (or even at the same time) readers are often given several perspectives of the same events. Someone who seemed like a no-so-great person in one novel is shown to be a better person two novels later - because we now know their backstory and what makes them tick. A character might offhandedly mention something in a novel (example: Garreth mentioning Lucia is his destined mate in book one) and it comes full circle in another novel - we get to see that story play out.

Even if your favorite character plays a minor or side role in one novel, there is a great chance they will be a main character at some point in the series. And, as someone who often loves the side characters more than the main characters, that was a nice surprise for me.

It’s also fairly clear that Cole took some time in developing the different (major) groups within the Lore: who they are, what they can do, who they are friendly with, etc. That was a nice detail that I liked, especially as it didn’t really change in the novels I’ve read. And to be honest, in such a long series, it would be very easy for an author to forget smaller details. But, I don’t think Cole has - yet.

There were some things I didn’t like, of course. Having read books 1-7 and then 9-10 (I don’t have access to book 8 yet) in the span of twelve days - it is so painfully clear that Cole has a formula she likes to work with.

Most of her novels play out the same way: ML and FL meet. An attraction forms, with the ML realizing that the FL is his destined mate/Bride/whatever. They fight, he chases her, they fight some more, there is a bit of sex, there is a misunderstanding, he’s possessive, they fight and have sex, there is something terrible looming in the background that gets quickly taken care of in the last 50 or so pages, they fight again, they makeup and then they ride off into the sunset until they have a few cameos in other couples’ novels. It’s painfully predictable at times, and in truth it works well with some couples and not so well with others. So, I do like when Cole changes things a bit. (See book ten, Dreams of a Dark Warrior, for example.)

I also have to fully admit that some of the Alpha males, who were so possessive, running around calling women “Mine,” while being borderline abusive or/and manipulative at times turned me off. That kind of guy is just not my cup of tea. So, I’m sad to say I have not (as of yet) been a huge fan of the Lykae and the way they tend to treat their fated mates.

That said, I’d like to go over each couple and rank them.

09. Emma Troy and Lachlain MacRieve from A Hunger Like No Other (Book 1): I almost stopped reading because of this couple. I understand that he was tortured and hurt by vampires for years, but he was so awful toward Emma when he thought she was a full blooded vampire! He demanded she touch him in exchange for a phone call! It was so clear that she was scared, and because of his own trauma, he did nothing to calm her. Not a fan.

08. Sabine, Sorceress of Illusions and Rydstrom Woede from Kiss of a Demon King (Book 6): While I liked them as characters, their relationship just felt very toxic to me. At times I was even uncomfortable with the way they treated one another. From reviews I can tell that a lot of people like them, so I may go back to this novel once I have finished the series.

07. Holly the Bright and Cadeon Woede from Dark Desires After Dark (Book 5): Cadeon was fine. Holly was fine. But - he was going to sell her out! I can’t get behind that. In the end, they did win me over, but I just felt (at times) that Holly could be a bit boring and that Cadeon’s betrayal (while somewhat understandable) was too much.

06: Mariketa the Awaited and Bowen MacRieve from Wicked Deeds on a Winter’s Night (Book 3): Mari was stronger than Emma in dealing with her Lykae and because Bowen thought his feelings were a spell he wasn’t as possessive with Mari as Lachlian had been with Emma. Mari and Bowen had a bit of humor in their relationship, a bit of teasing and they were just...fun. I enjoyed their interactions before and after they were together. Do I think Mari forgave him way too easily? Yes. Do I think their issues were solved too easily? Yes. But, my goodness, I still enjoyed them.

05. Kaderin the Cold/Kind Hearted and Sebastian Wroth from No Rest for the Wicked (Book 2): This is a weird one, because I can’t really tell you why they made my top 5, but they did. I liked Sebastain and the way he just wanted to make Kaderin happy. I loved that Kaderin was not the damsel in distress that some of the other heroines had been throughout the series. In fact, I would dare say that it was Kaderin who was leading the romance instead of Sebastian, which was a nice change of pace in this series.

04: Daniela the Ice Maiden and Murdoch Wroth from Untouched (Book 7): I really loved the setup here: when Murdoch had been alive, he had been a, well, he slept with a lot of women. Dani is a virgin at 2000 years old. Why? Because she is half Icere Fey, which means when anyone touches her skin they freeze and she burns. Dani also happens to be Murdoch’s Bride, which means after 300 years of no sex (or interest in sex) Murodch suddenly wants to have sex - with Dani - who can’t. They have a lot of back and forth, push and pull. They find some very creative ways to be together without actually touching. And, for some weird reason I really enjoyed them. They weren’t the typical story in this series and I liked that.

03: Carrow Graie and Malkom Slaine from Demon From the Dark (Book 9): Me, Tarzan. You, Jane. That’s what seems to come to mind for a lot of people who read this one. Malkom is a seriously traumatized demon/vampire, who knows nothing of the world and is somehow really sweet toward Carrow. Carrow is a witch, who's seen it all and done a lot of it. She’s using him to save her adopted daughter, but Carrow falls for Malkom. And it’s a weirdly sweet and cute story.

02:Néomi Laress and Conrad Wroth from Dark Needs at Night’s Edge (Book 4): A ghost and a vampire. Who knew I’d love them so much. It’s even better, because she’s his Bride, but she’s dead...so they can’t get physical. Instead they talk and get to know one another. She was a woman of the world, and he’s a half-crazed vampire bounty hunter, who was once a virginal vampire bounty hunter. She flirts and teases and he is angsty. They are basically perfect.

01:Regin the Radiant and Declan Chase (Aidan the Fierce) from Dreams of a Dark Warrior (Book 10): Chef’s kiss. Regin does not take crap from Declan and he actually has to work to win back her trust. Declan is a mess, but it’s not used as an excuse for his misdeeds. Yes, he has had a traumatic past and he has been brainwashed, but his actions are not excused by Regin - especially when he goes back on his word. Declan has to fight for Regin, just as much as she has to fit for him. I loved them.

I have book 8 on the way, I already have books 11, 13-15, and book 18. I’ll be buying books 12, 16, and 17 soon-ish. While the series has some flaws, I do like it overall. The books are really quick reads for me and overall I like the overarching story and a lot of the characters. I’m rather disappointed that nothing new has come out in four years and that Cole has fallen off the grid. I know she had books 18 and 19 planned, and reportedly book 18 is finished. I hope it is able to be published someday.

#immortals after dark #kresley cole #iad

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ka-za-ri · 4 years ago

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Descent Pt. 10 (Finale)

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚ IT’S TIME.

Hello! I would honestly really like to thank every one of you who’s read this and encouraged me during this long ride! It’s been a wild one and it’s been an honor to share this smutty smut fest to you all. I’m a little sad that it’s over, but hopefully after some time away from writing this fic I’ll come back and write one last bonus chapter. Because what’s my writing without boning a demon amirite?

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10]

Pairing: Simeon x Reader Genre: Angst, fluff, smut Wordcount: 7,100 ish Tags: Angst, Fluff, Smut Summary: Accepting and confronting feelings come with the consequence of a fall.

Fall

You had fully intended to go home as usual after a session with Simeon. Even if the post coital cuddles were much desired and needed, he always kept business and personal relations separate. You knew better than to get too attached to the warmth and comfort of his embrace. It pained you to know he would always approach your relationship with a cool detachment and you expected things to be the same as usual this time as well.

The endorphins of such an intense session sedated the both of you, letting you fall into a comfortable doze for a bit. Simeon clung to you as he slept, rousing you from your slumber more than once as his arms wrapped around you tighter. He whimpered from time to time, twitching and clutching you tighter as if you could drive away whatever bad dreams he had. It was strange to see him so possessive, not that you minded. Even if it was only when he slept, he was at least comfortable enough around you to let down his guard a little bit. By the time you needed to leave and catch the last train home, his limbs were tangled with yours and there was no way to move without waking him up.

“Simeon, I have to go…” You protested, trying to pry yourself from him.

He groaned and only pressed himself against you more in his half-asleep state. “No.” He whined. “Stay the night, please. I don’t want to be alone.” His voice was surprisingly quiet and it cracked at the end of his plea.

Your heart skipped a beat at his sudden confession and any desire you had to leave immediately disappeared. “Okay, okay. I’ll stay.” You reassured, patting his arm and his hold on you relaxed just a bit.

Simeon sighed in content and took in your scent when you agreed to stay. His breathing stuttered for a moment as he savored your warmth next to his own. In a rare moment of vulnerability, he allowed himself the chance to indulge in a show of affection. Normally, he would have brought up his walls and politely seen you off. Yet, something prevented him from doing that right away this time. Likely, it had to do with the burning feeling that settled in his chest earlier when he saw you being fucked by Lucifer. The image and the feeling refused to go away, causing him to be needier than usual.

He couldn’t go back to the way things were before when he was simply asking you to do things for the sake of his book. It was impossible to deny that he had budding feelings he needed to confront. The consequences of being too deeply involved in the human realm laid heavily on his shoulders and he didn’t want to think about them when he had you in his arms. He need to recenter himself and stay rational while he tried to figure out a way to reclaim who he was before this all happened. To do that, his feelings had to be carefully locked away. Wearily, he brought up the walls around his heart once more even though your close proximity threatened to tear them down at any moment.

You turned over to look at him and noticed he still had the collar on. Carefully, you helped him out of it. Unbuckling the ornate clasp was surprisingly harder than you anticipated, especially since you didn’t want to hurt Simeon. When it was finally pulled away and thrown to the side, it was hard to not notice how he skin of his neck had been rubbed raw from receiving such rough treatment throughout the night. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, tentatively tracing the tender skin and he winced at the touch.

“Don’t be. I’m alright. I promise.” He reassured, but there was no conviction behind his words. He pulled away from you, ignoring the throbbing around his neck from where the collar had sat for so long.

You decided to leave the issue for the time being. Simeon wasn’t a stranger to harming himself, the long scars on his back was proof of that. Why he thought such self punishments were necessary were beyond your comprehension and you couldn’t begin to think about how to comfort him whenever this habit of his came up. You only had a few canned, rehearsed words that everyone had been taught to say and countless empty promises that you could never keep. You wanted to believe he would reach out for help if he needed it; however, if you knew anything about Simeon, it was that he would never say what he wanted.

“Shall I draw you a bath?” he asked quietly after a long lull of silence. He was staring at a point just past your head, in a daze and not quite focused as he normally was. As if he noticed how zoned out he was, he blinked and made proper eye contact with you. “I’m sure you’re tired, and it’ll give me a chance to change the sheets so you don’t have to keep sleeping on the mess I made.” He smiled softly, already in the middle of getting out of bed to start running the water.

There they were again. Those walls you worked so hard break through had been rebuilt in the short time you had been nodding off in his arms. When you weren’t fully focused on him, he was pushing you gently to the side, distancing himself and the cool detachment was more than a little depressing for you. It felt like with every time you got him to open up, the more he closed off his feelings. You thought you had gotten somewhere when he asked you to stay, but it seemed to be a temporary lapse.

He beckoned you to the bathroom shortly after, the tub was already half full and you could smell the jasmine oil he had put in there to help ease the aches and pains away. If anything, you thought he deserved a bath more than you did, but he was adamant about attending to your needs first and foremost. “Please take as much time here as you’d like. I’ll get a robe for you in a bit.” He turned to take his leave but you stopped him, holding onto his hand and tugging him closer.

“Won’t you stay? You need to get cleaned up too, don’t you?”

He smiled, though the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. “Unfortunately, the tub is not large enough for two.” He reasoned.

Before you could further insist that he stay by your side, he was already through the door and off to change the sheets like he said he would.

You sighed, knowing you weren’t going to get anywhere else with him for the night and slipped into the bath. The hot water did wonders to your sore muscles. Whatever he put into it only aided in relaxing you to a point where you were quickly dozing off in the bath. Your mind was much more active than your body, replaying all the events that lead up to this moment. From the first hesitant time in that sunroom all the way to the moment he surrendered his body to you, your relationship and your feelings for him had only deepened.

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you as you mulled over the discussion you had with him so long ago, going through the things he was comfortable with doing and what he absolutely refused to do. Somewhere along the line, you had pushed aside his boundaries in pursuit of getting what you wanted out of your agreement. You ended up assuming that he desired you the same way you desired him. Upon this realization, it was no longer a wonder why you were being politely pushed away.

You lost track of how long you had been in the tub. Your disheartening thoughts pulled you down a deep rabbit hole where you analyzed every moment you shared, wondering where you had gone wrong and when you had become so inconsiderate. Your mind ran in circles while your body slowly shut down from exhaustion.

Simeon thought you died in the tub when he found you. Your torso was practically hanging out the side of the tub and you didn’t respond when he called your name the first time. To say he was relieved when he saw you twitch slightly after he called you again would have been an understatement. He sighed softly, setting the robe he brought in to the side and gently propped you up. “Come now, Little Lamb. You’ll catch a cold if you sleep like that.” He chided.

You blinked, clearing your bleary vision and grumbled at him, brushing his hands away. “Just a few more minutes.” You whined.

“The water is no longer warm, you’ll get sick if you stay in here any longer.” He was insistent, half dragging you out of the tepid water much to your dismay.

Simeon wrapped you in the largest towel he had, smiling softly the whole time you were turned away from him. The fluffy bath sheet smelled of lavender and something else you couldn’t quite place, but it was a familiar scent. You clearly did not seem to be in any state to properly care for yourself and he took it upon himself to properly dry you off. It wasn’t often he got to dote on you in the way he wished, and it seemed the only time he would get the chance was when you were barely conscious after being fucked out of your mind.

Seeing you barely able to stay on your feet, Simeon almost carried you back to bed. Stay distant. Do not meddle any further. Though he knew he was likely too far gone to return to the Celestial realm with any sort of good grace, he childishly thought it might not be too late to rectify his wrongs.

He took you by your hand, lead you back to bed and tucked you in. It took no time at all for you to fall asleep on the newly changed sheets. You hogged a majority of his pillows and the blankets, but he didn’t mind. Only when he was sure you were soundly asleep did he allow himself the chance to shower off the worst of the fluids which had caked themselves onto his skin. As he watched the water swirl down the drain, he wonder if he really stood a chance against Lucifer’s wiles and seduction. He couldn’t get the image of you being taken by another man out of his head no matter how hard he distracted from himself.

That dull, burning feeling spread across his chest once again. The ache of yearning for something he could never have consumed his being. And as the conflicting emotions warred within him, he sank into the corner of the shower, letting the water pelt at him until it ran cold. Even then, he didn’t feel like he he had the energy to drag himself out of the shower. The moment he left, he knew that he would need to decide between his devotion to you or to the…

Gods were known to be all benevolent. He had experienced and executed the outcome of such goodness to many before. He thought, perhaps the gods would remember his good deeds and forgive his few misgivings in the human realm. After he finally pulled himself off the chilled floor of the shower and got dressed, he reached for the rosary tucked in the back corner of his night stand and knelt in reverence to the Heavenly bodies above.

For the first time in a very long time, Simeon prayed before going to sleep. He pleaded for forgiveness and mercy. He prayed for a sign to save him from his inevitable fate somehow. Kneeling on the hard floor, he hoped his words could invoke the infinite benevolence of the Celestial realm to save his soul. He recited prayer after prayer, hoping that those above could excuse his lapses of judgment in his assignment to observe and understand humans. He was wrong, he had known that since the first time asked for your help. He had been so naive and confident, he had somehow lost his way.

Simeon had been so sure he could have anticipated the moment of his fall. He could have sworn all he had to do was abstain from defiling you. In his prayers, he apologized for being so simple minded, he confessed to the countless sins he committed onto your body without having tainted you. He had foolishly trusted himself too much and ended up falling for you in a way that was equally taboo.

Love.

He omitted his feelings from his prayers. If the other angels were watching, surely they would already know the truth behind his actions. It was all rooted in an intoxicating addiction to the temptation that was you. Outside of all the lewd acts, he adored you, cherished you and deeply wished he could give you the world on a platter if only he was allowed the chance to.

Yet his pride stood in the way. His stubborn need to cling onto what the Celestial realm deemed as divine kept him from sacrificing everything. Simeon hoped that his prayers would be heard as he implored the powers that be for forgiveness. If he received an answer, he could turn back. There was still time. His knees ached as he recited prayer after prayer. He hummed hymns and sang praises in a futile attempt to curry favor in his direction once more. He stayed in the corner of his room until the pain of kneeling became too much.

Ha, I must be getting old. I used to be able to do this all day...

He shouldn’t have been surprised when there was no reply from the heavens. It seemed that he was already beyond salvation in their eyes.

If he had been a stronger man, he would have practiced decorum and slept in a separate room, or at least on the floor that night. However, Simeon was weak; weaker than he had ever thought he could be. His muscles and joints felt like they creaked when he finally got up and made his way to bed.

He was careful not to rouse you when he crawled feebly under the sheets and laid next to you. He could hear your deep breathing and the light snore coming from you as you slept soundly. Curling his body behind your own and wrapping his arms around you felt so right. Whatever resolve he had for keeping human temptations at bay dissolved as soon as you were in his arms and his own breathing evened out. The gods above had forsaken him, there was nothing left but to embrace the beautiful dreams that came whenever he was with you.

He would see you off in the morning, tell you how much he appreciated you and how much fun he had the night before. In a rare show of affection, he kissed your cheek and hugged you tightly before you set off for the day. He kept everything cordial and guarded his feelings close to his chest while you were still around him. As soon as you said your farewells and walked through his door, he felt his whole world fade into a grainy shade of gray. With every step you took, the color evaporated from his vision until there was nothing left but a dull monochrome.

Alas, it seemed the most disgraceful thing to the gods was the feeling of…

Falling in love with Simeon was not something you expected when you first met him. Your intial impression when you first met him was that he did not fit your mental image of an author. You had expected someone much mousier and less refined. That first meeting changed your life. Not only did it begin your career, but it also planted a seed of affection deep in your heart for a soft spoken, eloquent, beautiful person. Pushing your feelings to the side had been easy enough in the beginning, you could pretend your infatuation was because of how star struck you were to work for the Christopher Peugeot.

Of course, you were young and naive to have thought those emotions would go away with time. Those budding feelings only took root and spread into what they were today. You were obsessed and hopelessly in love with a man who would never open up to you.

In the following days after you left, Simeon continued to distance himself. You didn’t blame him. You had a fair amount of thinking to do on your own. Life carried on as normal, or as normally as it could when there wasn’t a book being written. Simeon had requested a well deserved break from writing in order to brainstorm his next bestseller. There was the obligatory call that you had to make at the beginning of his break to ensure he would have something to present once his little vacation was over; but outside of that, you left him alone. It was likely for the best. Your one way infatuation with him had become an unhealthy obsession as of late and the distance would allow for you to properly sort your thoughts out.

You picked through a few freelance offers to edit short stories during the lull in your main work. It was boring and tedious, but it kept food on the table and your bills were paid on time. The shorter length and the sporadic nature of such work meant you had much more time to dwell on your thoughts. Without any outside influences like a nosy bartender or an overly familiar CEO, it was easier to sort out your feelings for Simeon and figure out how you wanted to proceed the next time you had a chance to meet him privately.

The fact that he still most likely had that chastity cage on his cock was not lost to you. Every time you thought about it, a pang of guilt ripped through your chest. You had done a fair number of things to push his boundaries and you couldn’t blame him if he hated you. There was a hollowness in his voice when he saw you off that rang in your head. You always thought his eyes had a bright life and joy to them, but if you thought too much about that day, you could recall how dull and dark they were even when he smiled.

You hated to think that you could be the reason why he was like that.

You wanted to contact him and maybe discuss things between the two of you, preferably without Lucifer. Your feelings and infatuation was with Simeon and no one else. After days of contemplating the events of your last session, you came to the conclusion that whether or not Simeon would fuck you was a negligible aspect of your relationship with him. You needed to stop pushing him and let him come to you when he was ready. Sure, it was frustrating when he didn’t express his needs, but you never considered that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t comfortable enough around you to do so.

He trusted his body to you. Upon reflection, it felt like you had taken everything he gave you for granted. The importance of his actions and words were all disregarded in favor of what you wanted. The guilt of such neglect ate at you from the inside. Now, the least you could do in repentance was respect his wishes and his need for space. You had expected him to reach out to you once his break started, but it had been a dead radio silence ever since he announced it. You worried about his well being constantly, checking your phone as soon as you woke and right before you went to bed for any messages. You caught yourself mindlessly refreshing your phone for hours on end, hoping that he would be the first to contact you.

Nothing.

Then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised when there was no reply to your wordless prayers.

The pain of distance you experienced now was a necessity. You needed to accept that and practice patience if you wanted to have another chance to make things right. The heartache from being so far apart for so long ate away at your soul, but you knew it was something that you deserved it. Day by day, as you continued to wait patiently, the color in your world drained away into a grainy shade of…

Grey skies were common at the end of winter. They fit well with his outlook on life these days. Simeon walked a lot, now. He let his feet wander and take him to no goal in particular. It was an odd sort of meditation in a way and it let him clear his mind in a way that his home could no longer do. Every surface and corner of his abode reminded him of you. Getting out and breathing in the crisp, cold air cleansed his mind and his lungs.

He’d wander until he couldn’t feel his legs or his nose. At first, the cold winds whipped and cut his skin, making his lips crack and bleed if he spent too much time out. However, he got used to it quickly. The mixture of pain and peace brought him a calm that couldn’t be achieved elsewhere. He loved the soft quiet that came with snow. It muffled the sounds of the city as well as the sounds of his heart beating. The peaceful atmosphere soothed the frazzled edges of his mind and amplified the hollow feeling of loneliness in his chest.

Simeon didn’t take a heavy coat with him whenever he went out. A sweater was sufficient for his needs. He may or may not have received odd stares, but he couldn’t be bothered. None of those people mattered to him anyway. He only sought the approval of two beings and one of them had turned their back on him when he begged for a bit of forgiveness.

Winter was letting up slowly, giving way to chilly rains which soaked him to the bone whenever he took one of his long walks. He usually didn’t mind it, but when the rain became a downpour, he had no choice but to seek shelter somewhere until the worst of the storm was over. Looking at his surroundings, he could have laughed when he saw his feet had somehow taken him all the way to your neighborhood.

He had maybe visited you a handful of times since he first met you. It wasn’t often he got a chance to go see you considering your work revolved around him. He wanted to see you, he wanted to hear your voice and hold you. That desire was enough to make him take a step towards your door. As he got closer, he could hear a part of him tell him to turn away before he fell any deeper for you.

Unfortunately for that rational part of him, falling didn’t scare him anymore. With the Celestial Realm averting its gaze from him, he was free to accept the darkness that he willingly cultivated within himself. If anything, it meant he was allowed to feel something besides emptiness. He didn’t deserve the chance to see you again, but it did nothing to stop the desires

Simeon was knocking on your door before he realized what he was doing. His body seemed to move on its own when it knew you were close. You drew him towards you like a moth to a flame and he would be forever entranced by you. As your door opened, a gust of warm air washed over his body and the gray world around him shattered into a thousand brightly colored pieces. “I… I’m sorry, I just didn’t know where else to go.”

His voice sounded foreign to him, the most familiar thing he knew was your soft expression as you lead him indoors away from the cold.

“You’re lucky I was in the middle of getting a bath ready.” you said as you hurriedly shuffled his soaked frame to the bathroom once his shoes were off. An inviting tub full of steaming hot water was waiting for him when you finally got him through the door of your bath room. He took a deep breath and the scent of sandalwood and oranges filled his lungs. He recognized it as the scent that always lingered on your clothes over your perfume. Just having his senses filled with something that reminded him of you warmed him much more than the balmy temperature of the bathroom.

“I think I have something that might fit you, if not I definitely have a robe.” you mumbled to yourself, already pulling out a spare towel out of a nearby cabinet for him. “Just leave the wet clothes on the floor, I’ll throw them in the wash for you when you’re done.”

You scurried off to dig through your closet in search for spare clothes, leaving him to him to his own devices. Simeon sighed, smiling for the first time in what felt like weeks. Finally seeing you in person, he needed to accept just how much he missed you and just how whenever you were around, his world was…

Colorful clothes of all sorts were strewn across your bedroom floor as you tried to find that over-sized sweater you swore you saw just the other day. You didn’t want Simeon to wear just a robe, the one you owned was likely too small for him, but it looked like you wouldn’t have a choice in that matter considering you didn’t think anything else you owned would fit him.

He had appeared at your door like the answer to your prayers. You were getting antsy from the dead air between the two of you and it had been shaping up to be another day of listlessly staring at your phone while you waited for a message. With the storm brewing outside, you had fancied a nice long bath to combat both the cold and the dreary weather. Just as you were ready to hop in, you heard the knocking at your door.

Seeing Simeon so drenched and pitiful broke your heart. It didn’t matter why, or how he had arrived at your abode, you immediately dragged him to the bath as soon as you could. He clearly needed it more than you. It also meant he deserved much better than a too small robe to wrap himself in after he was done soaking. Unfortunately, it seemed like there would be no other options considering you couldn’t find that damn sweater you were thinking about.

Tiptoeing back to the bathroom, you knocked softly before cracking the door open. “Hey, I found a robe, it… just might not fit you, sorry about that.” you apologized, feeling like a terrible host. You stuck your hand through the crack and laid the robe on the sink, ready to slink away and let him have his space. Even if you wanted to be near him, you needed to remind yourself that he would approach you when he was ready, you couldn’t rush or push him more than you already had.

You grew concerned though when he didn’t respond to your intrusion. Curiosity got the better of you and you pushed the door open a bit more to see if he was alright. The sight you were greeted with was not what you expected, to say the least.

Simeon sat in the tub, staring blankly at the tiles in front of him. He looked like he was in a daze, barely aware of his surroundings. Most concerning of all was the fact that he hadn’t even bothered to take his clothes off. He was still wearing the rain drenched sweater and faded jeans he arrived in.

“Simeon?” You called out to him, quietly padding closer to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep. He turned sluggishly and gave you the barest nod. The bright blues of his eyes was so dull and dark, you worried he had somehow gotten sick in the short time you had left him on his own.

Kneeling down next to the tub, you peeled off the sodden sweater off his torso, tossing the thing into the sink before looking down at his jeans. He didn’t say anything to you as you went through the clinical actions of stripping him for the sake of his comfort. Your hand brushed against the metal bindings around his cock and he let out a hiss, the first indication that he was really aware of what was going on around him.

“Simeon, are you--”

“I’m fine.” he cut in. “I’m fine.”

There was no conviction in his voice as he tried to reassure you. He repeated those words over and over again as if they were a mantra, mumbling them under his breath. “I’m fine...”

His voice cracked when he looked at you, unshed tears being barely held back. No matter how much he told himself that the Heavens didn’t care and all he had to do was just accept the fall, he couldn’t shake off the fear of the consequences. There you were, inches away from him, calling for him as if you could hear his desperate prayers for salvation.

If the Heavenly Father would no longer listen, he at least had you. With you, any consequence was bearable.

“I’m fine. As long as I’m with you...” He whispered, pulling you closer to him for a slow, tender kiss.

When his lips met yours, a warmth blossomed throughout him. The hollow ache in his chest was immediately filled with a pleasant fluttering that spread through his limbs. Your unique aroma overpowered the perfume of sandalwood and oranges in the water. The cloying combination made him dizzy and drunk with his affection for you. The smell would forever be connected to the last temptation that made an angel fall.

His cradled the back of your head as he kissed you like it was the first time. The taste of your lips was sweeter than the ripened celestial peaches that immortals coveted so much. He breathed out slowly through his nose before taking a deep breath, filling his lungs with the smell of love and his impending fall from grace.

You moaned softly against his lips, gasping for breath from how tender yet passionate it had all been. He took that moment to swipe his tongue across your lower lip before delving into the caverns of your mouth and deepening the kiss even further. The sounds Lucifer elicited from you would be nothing compared to the songs he would get you to sing under his touch.

When he finally broke the kiss on his own terms, your lips were swollen and glistened with his saliva. The light in his eyes had returned and you noticed the familiar hard glitter of desire in them. He pulled you into a tight embrace, half dragging you into the tub with him to kiss the rest of your face and whatever skin he could get access to. You squealed in surprise, stumbling to keep your balance and pressed yourself against him. His breath was hot against your ear as he continued to press his lips everywhere he could. “I… I want you… Will you have me?”

You could barely believe what you heard. You wanted to pull away and look at him properly, but his embrace was strong and held firm. The kisses he laid on your skin traveled down your neck and you held back a shudder when he brushed across a sensitive spot. “I… is this what you want?”

“More than anything.”

He let you have a bit of distance so you could look at sincerity in his expression. There wasn’t a hint of hesitation in his voice and the glitter of desire in his eyes had changed into a bright flame of lust. There was no way you could deny such a request. You had been waiting for him to say those words for so long. The weight of guilt on your chest crumbled away and there was nothing but elation left. All the anxiety, all the waiting, all of the trials and tribulations was so worth it for the moment he earnestly asked to be with you.

“Then you shall have me.”

The smile that spread across his lips was surely divine. No one should be allowed to be as beautiful as he was. Simeon could barely believe you had agreed. He knew he didn’t deserve you; but now, he had all the time in the world to persuade you otherwise. Heavens be damned, he loved you and he had the freedom to show you exactly what that meant to him.

Removing your partially wet clothes felt like unwrapping the best present in the world. He felt like he was truly seeing you for the first time. He memorized every detail of your body with his lips, followed by his fingers. Your soft, breathy moans would be emblazoned in his mind for the rest of his life as the most holy of hymns.

He was loathed to be separated from you for any amount of time; but your knees were beginning to ache from kneeling, your position was less than ideal, and the tub was much too small to fit both of you. Begrudgingly, he let you go, only to usher you to your room with a gently wave of his hand.

“Just a moment, Little Lamb. I will follow shortly.” He reassured, his voice syrupy and low. The promises that it held sent a shiver down your spine. You hurried to the room as he directed, eagerly divesting the rest of your clothes as soon as you got the chance to.

He arrived in your room shortly after as he promised. The robe you had given had been unnecessary as he opted to have a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. Even then, that was about to be a frivolous exercise in modesty as he tossed it to the side the moment he saw that you were also nude. In the dim light of your room, the metal cage he so obediently wore glimmered and the familiar feeling of guilt rushed through you.

You beckoned him over to you and you swore he purposefully put a little extra sway in his hips as he approached you. The bed dipped with his added weight and you immediately pulled him into another round of slow, sensual kisses. Now that there were no clothes in the way, you were free to explore his body just as much as he did to you.

It felt like a dream to share your bed with Simeon. You had only fantasized about the possibility of something like this happening. The moment was made more magical knowing he sought you out. He had been with you enough times to know exactly where to touch you in order to draw a moan from the back of your throat. However, there was a sort of intimacy this time around that couldn’t be denied. “Wait… Wait...” you breathlessly put a pause on everything to rummage through the drawer of your night stand.

Pulling out the tiny key to the lock on the cage, you were quick to undo the damned thing and toss it to the side. It had seemed like a great idea at first when Lucifer subtly suggested it, however it had brought nothing but anguish and guilt in the end for you. You were glad to be rid of it, the accursed thing clattered to the ground as you carelessly tossed it to the side before refocusing on the man before you. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long now...”

“And I’ve wanted you for so long.” He replied smoothly, pushing you down onto covers and resuming his ministrations. Having his cock freed from those dreaded confines meant he was free to take you as he wished. His resolve wouldn’t waver, not when he was already forsaken and he was staring love in the face. He felt like he was being reborn every with every second that passed.

Simeon’s knee pressed between your legs and you eagerly spread yourself wider for him. He contemplated for a brief moment the idea of burying his head between your legs and tasting you until you were a shivering mess from his tongue. However, the need to sate himself and lay his claim in you overrode his desire to tease you.

His hands smoothed down your thighs before he hooked your legs around his waist. “I want you. I want you. I want you so much.” He leaned forward to kiss your neck, your chest, your collarbones, your shoulders, everywhere he could get access to before his patience snapped and he finally, blissfully pressed the tip of his cock to your entrance.

Simeon took his time, watching your expression change as every inch of him sank into you. He let out a long, guttural groan when he finally, blissfully, bottomed out inside of you. You were his sun, his moon, his stars. You were all that was good and was divine to him. He would happily desert the kingdom of gods to make you his paradise. Without you, he wouldn’t have fallen. Without you, he had no reason to live.

“Oh God, Simeon.” You whined, your eyelids fluttered as he filled you. You knew he would have taken his time, but you didn’t expect him to slide in so excruciatingly slowly. He made your body feel every ridge and vein of his cock, forcing it to memorize his shape and size, molding your cunt to fit him and only him forevermore.

“There is no God, there’s just me.” He seethed at the mention of the Heavenly Father. “There’s just me and you, and what I’m going to make you feel.”

Simeon was everything you had imagined he would be and more. He was so attentive, sweet and he knew just how to make you moan. His cock hit every spot within you that made you see stars. Though the pace he started off was languid and slow, he was quick to pick up speed when he saw just how positively you reacted to deeper and harder thrusts. It seemed like he effortlessly had you clutching onto the sheets below you and crying out for him.

“Mine.” He growled, slamming his hips into you. “Mine.”

He wouldn’t let anyone else interfere. He had made his decision and he would make sure that you could never desire anyone else ever again. His kisses turned into bites, leaving intents and marks across your body as he laid his claim. He gave everything to be with you and the feeling of being so intimately connected with you was divine.

The way you moaned his name as he railed you was unlike any other. It was his name that fell from your lips. Not some other man, not some unintelligible babbling. You were calling for him every time his cock slid home and filled you to the brim.

His desire to see you dripping with his seed only increased every time you begged him to go harder. Simeon was more than happy to comply with your wishes, letting the sound of skin slapping against skin echo in your room. The smell of sandalwood and oranges was soon overtaken by the scent of sex as you met every one of his thrusts with a roll of your hips.

Sweat plastered his hair to his face, his breath came out in heavy pants and he could feel how close you were to your climax every time you clenched around his length. “Ah, Little Lamb, will you cum for me, soon?” He asked sweetly against your ear.

“Yes, soon.” You confirmed, wrapping your legs around him tightly, urging him to keep going. Finally being filled with him was an absolutely transcendent experience that you wanted to last forever. You were afraid that the moment it was over, he would once again return to holding you politely at arms distance. It all felt like a dream to you and you didn’t want to wake up. “Fuck, Simeon! Ahhh~”

It seemed as though your body had other ideas. With how Simeon rubbed against your inner walls, you couldn’t last for the eternity you wished for. You screamed his name as your climax overtook you, the edges of your vision going white from the intensity of it. Frantically, you pulled him towards you for heated kisses as you rode out the high of your orgasm. Your walls fluttered around his cock, milking him encouraging him to follow you into bliss.

He wasn’t far behind you. The way you pussy hugged him and pulled him even deeper into you was all the encouragement he needed to finish the deed. His pace stuttered and he rammed himself home, once, twice, thrice before holding your hips still as he spilled his load into you.

Outside, the rain storm had turned to snow. A quick, bleary glance over at your window and you could have sworn the big, fluffy flakes looked like thousands of white feathers falling from the skies. Simeon groaned in content and exhaustion, feeling the last vestiges of what divinity he had leave him only to be replaced with an all consuming devotion to you.

He collapsed gracelessly on top of you, unwilling to depart from the warm confines of your pussy as he reveled in the feeling of his fall. You caught him him, cradling him against your chest and waited patiently for him to ride out his own high. “I love you.” he murmured softly, getting up just enough to kiss your forehead softly.

“I’ve wanted to hear you say that for so long.” You admitted, your cheeks warming at the affectionate gesture. “I love you, too.”

“Say it again.” he demanded, kissing your forehead again. “Say it again and again and again. Never stop saying it.”

“I love you.” You reiterated, giggling and rolling over so you were laying on his chest. “I love you, I love you.”

“And I love you, my Angel.”

The descent to Hell was a long one, but as long as you caught him when he Fell, it was worth it.

#Swd Simeon #Shall we Date Simeon #Obey Me Simeon #Simeon x Reader #Obey Me smut #i'm trash you're trash we're all trash #This is it #thank you for reading and all that good sappy stuff

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sometimesitrytowritethings · 4 years ago

Text

Mountain Man: Part 5

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Mild sexual situations

Summary: You never thought you’d love again. Then Arthur Morgan came into town. Fate continuously has you meeting each other in odd ways, and a troubled past is something you are both familiar with. Perhaps that’s what will make this time different.

——-

You had headed home with Ben as quickly as possible after your discovery, ignoring all of your neighbors who tried to chat along the way. You walked with determination, caking your shoes and the hem of your skirt with mud and trying your best not to let any tears fall before you got home. Ben scampered along behind you, confused about what had made you so mad, but still not saying a word.

As soon as you had arrived at the door of the boarding house, you kicked off your muddy shoes and kneeled to hug your son, the tears that had been threatening to spill during your entire trek home finally running down your cheeks. You quietly cried, holding the small child tightly in your arms and cradling the back of his head with your hand. His small arms wrapped around you as well. He may not have known what was happening, but he knew enough to hug you back.

After a few minutes, you finally pulled away and moved your hands to Ben’s face, looking lovingly at your son. “Are you okay, Mama?” he asked, timidly, still overwhelmed by the sudden change in mood earlier.

You nodded and then pressed your forehead against his, closing your eyes. “I’m fine, sweetheart,” you told him. “I’m sorry if I scared you.” Your hands moved from his face to the curls on top of his head, as you moved to a kiss to his forehead.

Pulling away, you were relieved when he proceeded to reassure you. “I wasn’t scared, Mama,” he explained, looking up into your eyes. His own were watery as well. “I was just worried. Why are you so sad? Did I do something bad?”

This prompted you to pull him once again in a tight hug. “Oh no,” you said in his ear, comforting both of you at the same time. It nearly killed you that he could ever think that he was the cause of your sadness and frustration at that moment. “No, no, no, no. You didn’t do anything wrong, you wonderful, wonderful boy.” With another kiss to the top of his head, you pulled away from him to look him over. “You are so good, and I am so proud of you, and I love you so, so much. And I’m very very sorry about upsetting you.” You straightened his shirt and stood up to make your way into the house.

As you did this, Ben moved forward to hug your legs. “I love you, Mama,” he said, his voice muted by the fabric of your skirt.

You patted him gently on his curls, a small, sad smile on your face. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

The two of you stood that way for a couple more minutes in the hallway, your hand running through Ben’s curls as he held onto your legs as if for dear life. After finally re-gaining your composure, you knelt down and helped Ben take off his shoes, before opening the door and sending him up the stairs to change into clean clothes for dinner, which was luckily a much happier affair.

Ms. Chadwick and Mary joined the two of you for a meal of leftover stew from the previous evening and freshly-baked bread, courtesy of Jacob. Although you remained mostly in silent contemplation throughout the meal, Ben was more than happy to regale them with tales from the day. He spoke animatedly about all of the horses he saw, especially the “baby pony”, and of the Mountain Man who could draw “as good as a real picture!”

At one point, he had even run upstairs to grab the drawing and show it proudly to the entire table. Ms. Chadwick quickly oohed and ahhed over it, asking Ben questions about who this Mountain Man might be, all while looking knowingly in your direction. Mary, however, had suddenly gone silent, looking at the drawing with a sort of bittersweet recognition. Ben, of course, was not going to be satisfied with that reaction. When he turned to her to ask her opinion, her smile slipped back onto her face and she rejoined the conversation with practiced ease.

Not long after the stew had been eaten and the plates cleared off the table, the sun began to set. Bidding the others a good evening, you took Ben up to tuck him into bed before you left to meet Arthur. With a kiss on the forehead, you told him that Mary and Ms. Chadwick would be home, but you would join your friends for a few hours tonight, so he shouldn’t worry about you. He nodded, and after an exhausting, exciting, and overwhelming day, quickly fell asleep with the drawing tucked close to his chest.

You smiled and gently pulled the picture from his grasp to set it on the table near the window so that it wouldn’t be ruined as Ben slept. You then quietly slipped out of the house, luckily undeterred, and quickly made your way to the saloon. There was again a chill in the night air, as was common in Valentine in the spring, and you pulled your jacket tightly around your shoulders, contemplating what you would say to Arthur when you arrived.

If you remembered correctly, he had mentioned that he was going out to bring in a snake-oil salesman for a bounty the other day. It had to have been the same man. Should you mention it to him? Should you thank him? Would that be too strange? After all, he didn’t do this for you, he did it for the money. Before you had a chance to mull it over any further, you had reached the steps of the large, loud building.

Through the windows, you could see many of the same faces that graced the saloon on a nightly basis. You immediately spotted Margaret, in her bright yellow top and purple skirt, talking up a man by the bar. Anastasia was nowhere in sight, probably already upstairs with a lucky client. You continued scanning the room a bit more through the windows, but you didn’t see Arthur yet.

With a sigh, you decided to wait outside until he arrived, wanting to avoid talking to anyone as much as possible. You leaned against a pillar at the front of the building, watching as your breath crystallised in the air in front of you. As luck would have it, Arthur appeared shortly after you, dismounting his horse with a friendly wave. You were staring at the sky, so lost in thought that you nearly missed his arrival.

He called your name, and half-jogged to you once his horse was hitched, beaming. However, upon seeing the troubled look on your face, he immediately faltered.

“Before you say anything, I just…” you started, avoiding his gaze and not allowing him to speak first. “I want to thank you,” you finished, letting out a breath that you didn’t quite know you had been holding. Once again tugging at your jacket, you somehow managed to look Arthur in the eyes, tears threatening to spill again.

He immediately looked confused. “Woah, thank me? What for?” he questioned, coming over and stood next to you, leaning his hip on the same pillar. He was positioned slightly behind you as he pulled a cigarette out of his satchel and lit it. He took a drag of the cigarette first before holding it out for you. “Like I said, that picture weren’t nothin.”

You rarely smoked, but nodded your head anyway. Anything to calm you down. “It’s not that,” you replied, before pausing and inhaling the cigarette smoke. The somewhat familiar taste of tobacco entered your lungs and you handed it back to him, closing your eyes. It was all too much. “You… That man, your bounty? His name was Mr. Albright?”

Arthur nodded, eying you with confusion. He put the cigarette back between his lips.

It took a significant amount of effort to gather your wits together and explain everything to him. “He’s been here before,” you spoke slowly, testing out each phrase, making sure you were saying everything right. Closing your eyes and leaning your head back against the pillar, you continued, “About… about five years ago… Right before Andrew died…”

You didn’t need to say more. Contrary to his looks, and the rough-and-tumble attitude he usually tried to maintain, it was evident that Arthur was an empathetic person. He immediately understood. “Oh…” he pulled the half-used cigarette from between his lips and dropped it to the ground. WIthout another word, he had pushed himself off the pillar and turned to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

His strong arms wrapped around you. The smell of tobacco, trees and whisky overwhelmed your senses and you leaned into him, letting tears fall with less restraint than you had with your son. “We… we thought it was just the flu,” you managed, speaking through sobs into his shirt. “But it was harvest… and we had just had Ben... and he couldn’t afford to… to lay in bed for a week.”

You felt him nod reassuringly, and you continued, “So, this man came into town, boasting about this miracle cure... We weren’t sure, but there was just too much to do.”

One of his strong hands started rubbing your back in circles, and you thought you heard him let out a quiet shush. “It’s alright,” he said, his voice low and calm, as if he were talking to a panicked animal. “You don’t gotta talk about it if you don’t want. I understand.”

“He would have been fine within a week. I…” you finally managed to stop yourself, wrapping your arms around his neck with an exhausted sob.

Arthur shushed you again, his hand still rubbing your back. “You ain’t done nothin’ wrong,” he said, his voice still low and soothing. He pried you off of him and held you out at arms length, hands on your shoulders, looking into your eyes. “That man was a slippery, lyin’ sonovabitch,” he continued, trying to reassure you. “And now he’s finally gonna get what’s comin.”

You nodded and moved your gaze to the ground, unable to look Arthur in the eye. “Thank you,” you breathed, your voice trembling, almost a whisper. “I… I just… well, I came to terms with Andrew’s death a long time ago. But this… it just brings it all back somehow. Like it happened again.”

Suddenly, a large calloused hand gently took hold of your chin. Arthur lightly tilted your head back up to face him. “I know,” he said, training his eyes on yours again. “I know. And I’m real sorry. Losin’ someone you love… well, it never really goes away.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” you muttered with a sad smile, wiping the tears from your eyes.

After you had recollected yourself, Arthur finally spoke again. “If it’ll help, I can probably arrange with the sheriff for you to-“

“No!” You were immediately taken aback. Why on earth would you ever want to see that man? If he were to be hanged at the Valentine gallows, you would probably not even venture out of the house that day, just to avoid seeing those beady eyes. “Thank you,” you said quickly, once you remembered that Arthur was just trying to help, “but no, no, I don’t want that. It’s over. Hell, it’s been over for years now. He will get what he deserves and that’s it. I don’t want anything more to do with it.” Were you trying to convince Arthur or yourself?

He eyed you cautiously, curious about your reaction. “You shoa? Now, I ain’t sayin’ you should go in there and kill him or anythin’. But maybe seeing him, yellin’ at him a bit, would help?” he asked again, reaching over to wipe a missed tear from your cheek. His hand paused for just a moment, and even after he had pulled it away you could still feel his touch, lingering.

“I just…” you mumbled, swallowing down the lump that was working its way up your throat again. “I don’t know,” you breathed, dejectedly. Maybe he was right. Maybe you had mostly healed, but that wound had been ripped violently open again by this revelation. Maybe screaming at him, showing him how much he had hurt you, would help you heal again.

He resigned, letting you decide for yourself. “Well, you know I ain’t gonna force you to donothin’,” he reassured you, leaning down to pick up the still lit cigarette from the ground.

You watched him take a drag without hesitation as you contemplated what he said. “I know… and thank you. It's just…” you bit your lip, searching for what you wanted to say, “it’s hurting again. Like when it had just happened… I thought I was fine, that I’d moved on and was living my life…”

Arthur let out a small sigh and reached out with gentle fingers to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “And you are,” he didn’t remove his hand, instead he used it to cup your cheek and look at you in the eyes. You couldn’t place what you were feeling at that moment. It was strange. This man, who you had only met a few weeks ago, was making you feel safe. And heard. And valid. And it made you feel so incredibly guilty to feel this way with someone other than Andrew. “You’ve got a good life, a great boah, and there ain’t no need to feel bad about that. But you just found out that some greedy snake took what could have been away from you. I wouldn’t blame you for wantin’ to rip him a new one before he gets his justice.”

You paused for a moment, looking back into his eyes. It took effort to even breathe, but the feeling of his hand on your cheek was somehow comforting. Slowly, you nodded your head and whispered, “Alright. … Let’s go see him.”

“Alright,” he said back to you with a reassuring smile. His calloused thumb brushed your cheek again lightly. “I can talk to the sheriff in the mornin-“ You pulled away from him in a sudden burst of determination. No, not in the morning. It was now or never. You had no idea if you could will yourself to do this any other time. “-hey, what... you mean now?”

You looked back, and Arthur was standing in the same place, cigarette dangling from his lips, and his arms stretched to the sides as if saying, what on earth? “Of course! I’ve got the stomach for it now, you expect me to wait?” You called back to him, voice only slightly shaking.

He looked at you in shock before jogging to catch up with you. Mud squished under his boots as he ran, but he made it to you quickly. He put a hand on your shoulder to stop you for a moment, “Well, I-“

This time, it was your turn to reach up and caress his cheek. Which you did, before patting it lightly, embracing your newfound confidence. “Sheriff Malloy has known me for years. It’ll be fine.”

He paused for just a second, smiling and shaking his head in resignation, before tossing his cigarette on the muddy ground and stomping it out with his boot. After a moment, he gestured to the jail with his right arm and put his left behind you, his hand resting on the small of your back as he began to lead you to the small building. “Well alright then, let’s go.”

The Sheriff’s office, only a few more steps down the street, was nearly empty when you arrived. Looking through the window, you could see Sheriff Malloy sitting at his desk, writing by the light of the singular lit oil lamp in the room. On the left were two darkened jail cells: one completely empty, and the other housing a man, who was huddled in a dark corner, asleep.

Arthur knocked lightly before opening the door without an answer. Sheriff Malloy jumped to his feet, shoving the letter he had been writing quickly into a desk drawer. It was likely a letter to the lovely Mrs. Calthrope, with whom he was having a not-so-secret affair.

But that didn’t bother you at the moment, as your focus was immediately drawn to the man hunched over in the furthest jail cell. You heard Arthur explain the situation to Sheriff Malloy, who kindly left you to your business. With each step closer to the cell, you could feel your heart beating faster and your words threatening to catch in your throat. By the time you had reached him and grabbed ahold of two of the bars, you couldn’t speak.

Luckily, Arthur was right behind you to take charge. He banged on the metal bars with a metal coffee cup that he had picked up off the Sheriff’s desk, waking the cell’s resident with a jolt. “Mr. Albright!” he called, his voice deep and taunting. “I brought someone by to see you.” He held a hand comfortingly at your back as you looked at the man.

He was an older man, dressed in what were once, surely, fine clothes. His glasses, perched on his long nose, were cracked, and his beard and hair looked as if it hadn’t been washed in weeks. “You’ve seen the error of your ways, I hope!” he called to your companion, clambering to his feet, suddenly fully awake after seeing the face of his captor.

Arthur laughed, taunting the man. “I never been very good at that, I’m afraid,” he said, walking back to the desk to set down the coffee mug.

Mr. Albright, now beginning to panic again, dashed to the bars of the jail cell, pressing his face through them. You jumped back, not wanting to be near the man. “They’re gonna hang me! This is a gross miscarriage of justice!” he pleaded, his voice increasing in pitch with each phrase. He was terrified.

Anger bloomed in your face. This man, the man who murdered your husband, had the gall to claim innocence? He had the audacity to try to convince someone that he had done nothing wrong? You wouldn’t take that. “The only miscarriage of justisce around here is that you weren’t hanged five years ago,” you spat, voice coming out hoarse and full of venom.

He seemed to have finally noticed you at that, and turned his gaze to you without recognition. He didn’t know who you were. He didn’t have any idea what he had done to you - to your family. “Ma’am, you must be mistaken,” he explained, clearing his throat and trying his best to regain his composure. To convince you of his innocence. To con you into believing him, like he had done to so many others. “I am a healer! A medical man! I save people!”

His explanation made you sick. “Like you saved my husband?” tears threatened to fall again as you spoke, but this time they weren’t from sadness. They were from frustration, from anger, from pure, unadulterated hatred for the man before you.

“I- I am sure you must be mistaken,” he said, his voice getting higher. He slowly backed away from the bars and toward the other side of the darkened cell, treating you like an angry animal in the wild.

But as soon as his hands had left the bars, you lunged at him, getting as close to the man as possible. “No,” you shrieked, anger completely overcoming you. You reached into the cell, catching him by the shirt collar before he could fully get away. “I had accepted his fate. He was sick, and things happen, I thought. For so long I assumed there was nothing we could have done.” You pulled him roughly toward you, forcing him to look you in the eye.

“Ma’am, please…” his voice shook as he spoke. He raised his hands, palms towards you, in a futile attempt to diffuse the situation.

“You killed him!” you screamed, grabbing the other side of his collar with your free hand and shaking him in frustration.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about,” he managed, still trying to worm his way out.

You were having none of it. “Your miracle tonic was supposed to help him! But he took it and died overnight,” you hissed, lightly dusting his face with your spit. “Do you know what it’s like? To lose someone you love so dearly? To raise a child on your own after losing the love of your life? After being forced to sell your home? Do you?”

“I…” he stammered, looking towards the floor.

Even if he had been able to try to explain himself, you weren’t in the mood to let him. “How many other women are there like me out there? How many men have you killed for an easy payday?” your voice again rose in a steady crescendo as you questioned him, ending with you yelling the last phrase directly into his face.

He turned his face from you to look at the two men in the room, begging for help. “Please, someone get this woman out of here! She’s hysterical!” he cried. You roughly yanked on his collar so that his face was thrown forward and made contact with the metal bars.

Holding tight, not allowing him to move, you nearly screamed in frustration. “Hysterical? I finally realise that my husband was murdered, and I’m able to look the man that killed him in the eye only to have him deny everything?!” you shrieked directly into his face. He was pressed against the bars, his cheeks red. “You are damn right I’m hysterical!”

“Sheriff!” he called as best he could, pushing against the bars to escape your grasp. “Sheriff! Please get this woman out of my sight!”

You heard a sigh behind you and the scrape of chair legs against the wooden floor. “I’m real sorry,” came Sheriff Malloy’s voice from behind you, saying your name as his footsteps neared, “but I think you’d better leave.”

You knew you were about to be thrown out, but you would absolutely get the last word. “You sorry piece of shit!” you screamed again, shaking the man and forcing him to hit his head several times on the metal bars. You felt Arthur’s hands on your shoulders, pulling you gently away. “I hope you burn in hell for what you’ve done!” you spat, finally letting him go and stepping away from the cell.

Sheriff Malloy stepped up behind the two of you, also putting a hand on your shoulder. “Please,” he said calmly. “I think you should go now. He’ll get what he’s due. I promise.”

You finally acquiesced, letting Arthur direct you from the room and through the back door of the jail. Your heart was pounding, breath coming out in angry gasps, when you arrived outside. Arthur turned you to face him, shushing you gently and trying to calm you. “It’s alright,” his voice was calm, and directly opposite of how you were feeling, how you wanted to feel.

The adrenaline that had overtaken you was overwhelming. It left you with a red face, and desperately needing some sort of outlet for your increased energy. Arthur pulled you closer to him, still trying to calm you down with soft words and quiet shushes. Suddenly, your outlet had been found.

Without warning, you lunged for him. Your lips met his and he staggered backward. The kiss was needy and frantic, your hands on the sides of his face, keeping him in place and grazing over his stubble.

He paused for an agonizingly long moment, shocked, before finally kissing you back. Large, warm hands moved from your shoulders to your hips as he pulled you closer with a swift movement. You melted into him, leaning against the hard, warm panes of his body to keep your balance.

Nothing was said, but nothing needed to be said. The situation had gotten you incredibly worked up, and the two of you were inevitably acting on the sexual tension that had built up as high as a mountain over the course of your past few coincidental meetings. Lips still locked in a heated kiss, you reached up to run a hand through his hair and were pleasantly surprised to find it freshly washed. He must have had a bath before coming to dinner.

For some reason, the idea of him preparing for this, anticipating it, spurred you on. It was so incredibly thoughtful, incredibly attractive, that he would go to the effort for you. You moved one of your hands to gently stroke the back of his head, down to the nape of his neck where you took hold of some hair and gently pulled. He groaned into your mouth - the most erotic sound you had heard in years. You needed to hear it again. Determined, you made your move as he pulled away from your mouth and leaned into the touch of your hands at the back of his neck. You went for his throat.

Literally.

Your left hand slid to the collar of Arthur’s shirt, moving his bandana aside, and you stood on your toes to kiss and bite at his exposed neck. He breathed your name, voice like music in your ears. Slowly, his hands moved to the small of your back, helping you keep your balance and bringing your body closer to his, if that were even possible. He groaned again, tilting his head to the side, as you kissed along his jaw.

His hands moved from your hips to your backside, squeezing it and pulling you into him. A jolt of electricity shot through you as you pressed against his pants, feeling the hard, hot need at your waist.

His neck was giving you a goldmine of grunts and groans that you would dream about for the next month, but you wanted - no, needed - more. Slowly, you licked a line up to his ear before gently biting on his earlobe. Nothing mattered to you now except him - all of him.

Your fingers deftly unbuttoned his shirt, and then combed through the wiry hair on his chest. One hand then paused, sprawled across the middle of his chest, while the other moved up again to snake around his neck. You moved your mouth back to his, whispering his name, your voice trembling.

Meanwhile, strong, hot hands reached under the band of your skirt and under your blouse. He lightly brushed against your skin, hitching up your shirt until he could easily skim calloused fingers up your spine, forcing a needy whine from your lips.

Your other hand slid up his chest and again to the back of his neck, pulling him toward the back of the building. The aging slats of wood dug lightly into your back through the fabric of your blouse and jacket as you hitched your leg around his hip. A strong hand came to your thigh, helping you keep your leg locked around him. Your tongues danced, your hands pulled again at his hair, and he began to grind against you at an agonizingly slow pace. For just a moment, he pulled his lips away from you, and you got a look at him.

His cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, eyes glazed over with lust. You hadn’t seen something so handsome, so strong, so incredibly erotic in years.

Before you knew what was happening, he dipped his head low to the crux of your neck. His hot breath gave you goosebumps as he licked and nipped at your skin, leaving what would be very visible love bites in the morning. You hurriedly swung your arm up to your mouth, biting on your thumb to keep quiet, but not before you had let out a loud moan that sounded not completely unlike his name.

A dam had been broken and there would be no stopping you now.

Unless…

Arthur faltered at the sound of horse hooves headed in your direction, one hand on your thigh and the other balanced against the wall behind you. You took no notice until he started to reluctantly pull away with a drawn-out sigh. “You don’t want to do this, darlin’,” he groaned, unraveling your leg from his waist and stepping slowly backwards, away from you. The hand that had been on the wall was now massaging his forehead in frustration. “Not with me.”

You looked at him, confused, breathless, mind racing, heart still beating a mile a minute. What was he talking about?

“You‘re just worked up, ‘n’ I ain’t gonna take advantage of that,” he explained, having seen your confusion. He backed further away, face flushed, eyes closed.

“Arthur… what- what on Earth?” you started, but stopped yourself as you too came to your senses. He was probably right. You were incredibly attracted to him, that was true, but the two of you barely knew each other, not to mention that an alleyway behind the jail wasn’t exactly the best place for this to happen. “You’re… I suppose you’re right…” you groaned, leaning back against the wall and putting your hand over your face. “... but only about me being worked up.”

His eyes shot up from the ground to look at you, astonished, as if he didn’t believe you could want to be with him of all people. His shock was laughable. Of course you wanted him, how could you not? And how could he be remotely confused by that? “I absolutely do want to do this with you… but right now… behind the jail… maybe it’s not the best place for it…” the blush that stained your face after your adrenaline had gone down was impossible to hide.

You nervously glanced away from him and brought your hands together to fiddle with your wedding ring.

Maybe it was finally time to take it off.

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #f!reader #arthur morgan x f!reader

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kiribaku-queen · 5 years ago

Text

Home [2/10]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader, Kirishima x reader

Fluff, angst, werewolf!au

Word count: 2.6K

A/N:

Summary: Being called the beauty of the clan isn’t as nice as it sounds. The beauty of the clan is supposed to exude confidence, power, and well, beauty. You were quite the opposite, only possessing one of those traits. Yet, the older you got, the more you fit into the role you were given. After your brother and all the boys of age come back from their training period, it was time to find a mate. But who will steal your heart? Is it Bakugou, the rising leader of the pack, or is it Kirishima, the personal guard?

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Today was finally the day. Two years didn’t go as fast as you thought it would but you are so glad it’s over. The whole pack stood outside the entrance, waiting for the newly trained men to return home. You’ve never felt more nervous and excited at the same time. Your brother, your best friend, and your boyfriend are going to come back as completely different people: for the best or the worst. Whether their personalities change or not, one thing is always consistent when these boys come back from training. They come back with sculpted bodies. The beefy arms, hard pecs, yummy six-pack, powerful, broad shoulders, shredded back, the thunder thighs? Ladies and gents, let’s not forget about those bootylicious buttocks. Now you’re not one to fall for looks but you’d be lying if you said that this wasn’t a plus. More than anything, you just wished Bakugou would come home already so that you can spend morning and night together.

You stood at the back of the crowd, regretting that you slept in on one of the most important days. How was Bakugou ever going to find you now? But thank god you weren’t standing there alone. Throughout those two years, you made a few friends that helped you become more confident and helped you fulfil the title of Beauty of the pack. One in particular helped you see the beauty in yourself as well as being your new best friend: Uraraka Ochako. After the boys left for training, three new girls joined the pack shortly after. They came from a neighboring pack with the intention of trying to merge so that we can become stronger together. Many were against the idea at first, but when the clan leader agreed, he let the girls stay so that they can get used to how the pack works. There’s no going against the clan leader, unless you want to get a real beating, so whatever he says goes. But that didn’t stop some people from talking and acting up. You didn’t really have an opinion on the matter, but when you see newcomers being spat at and talked bad about, you couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. They reminded you of yourself when you were younger. A rush of confidence hit you but as soon as you took a step forward, you stopped. Anxiety hit you as fast as that confidence came. You didn’t want to let that stop you because someone was in trouble. You took a deep breath with closed eyes.

If Kirishima and Bakugou can do this, so can you.

And as you opened your eyes, the rest was history. Nothing could separate the 4 of you. You helped them get accustomed to the way of life in the pack and in exchange, they helped you overcome your insecurities. They helped you see that despite being picked on at a young age, you never failed to forgive and be kind to them. Despite your lack of skill in some things, you never let failure get to your head. Instead, you worked hard until you got to where you wanted. Despite not being the skinniest girl around and being insecure about your looks, they helped you see that it didn’t matter if you didn’t look like everybody else. You became the Beauty of the pack because of how kind and sweet your personality is. And how your entire face lights up whenever you smile or how you just radiate good energy. Plus you started to like how your chubby cheeks added to your appearance. And, despite having all the insecurities and yet you still helped those that you didn’t know? Those are the best qualities to have and that’s why you are the Beauty of the pack. With this new profound confidence, you became a totally different person. You were happier, more social and emit even more beauty than before.

You waited at the back of the crowd, playing with your fingers. They should be here any minute now. Nervousness surged through your entire body but calmed down with a pair of soft hands laid on top of yours. You turn to see Uraraka gently staring into your eyes.

“Calm down, they’ll be here soon,” she comforted you. You couldn’t help but sigh.

“I know but they sure are taking their time coming back. You’d think they’d all be running down that hill like a bunch of excited, small children,” You pouted. She laughed at your remark.

“I’m sure they’ll come running once they see everybody. Are you waiting on someone in particular?” she asked. Ah, you realized that you never mentioned that you had a boyfriend. Everyone in the pack already knew that you two were destined to mate so it wasn’t mentioned in conversation.

“My boyfriend,” you answered shyly, “Why, are you waiting on someone?” you teased back, not expecting a real answer.

“I am actually! My fiancé,” she said while biting her lip to stop a smile from appearing. You could only look at her shocked and wide eyed. Fiancé? Since when? Who? She came after the boys left so who did she meet? So many questions were running through your head and before you could even get one question out, her phone rang. She was quick to answer. Only a few okays were exchanged before hanging up. “Whoops, gotta go. Father-in-law is calling,” she turned around to leave, but not before she gave you some words of encouragement. “Don’t forget! Unclench those fits, stand tall and relax those shoulders! Be excited not nervous! I’ll see you later!” And with that, she gave a wave and disappeared. You watched her run off in the direction that went straight into the heart of the town. Everything was forgotten when you sniffed the air and a flood of familiar smells entered your nose and a roar of cheering filtered in your ears, making your head spin. They were back.

You shimmied your way through the crowd, in hopes to find Bakugou first. The group of potential alphas walked through the entrance, and it was as expected: eye candy. Shaking your head and scolding yourself for looking at other men, and also taking a mental picture for yourself, but mainly to scold yourself, you tried to find Bakugou within the crowd. This was getting harder by the second because familiar members and loved ones were coming up to the boys, hugging and welcoming them back. You even tried to smell out his scent but this was proven to be difficult because all these different smells was too overwhelming. Your head spun left and right, body spinning in circles just to spot your favorite blonde hair. A pout laid on your lips and frustration was building inside you. Now you felt like the worst girlfriend because you can’t even spot your own boyfriend. You were about to give up and just wait until the crowd dies down before looking again, when you felt someone wrap their arms around your waist and their chest tightly pressed against your back.

“Looking for me, babe?” a hot breath whispered dangerously close to your ear. All the frustration disappeared and was replaced with pure joy. You turned your head and your eyes immediately lit up when you saw vermillion eyes staring lovingly back at you.

“Katsuki!” you screamed, jumping into him, arms embracing his neck while he hugged you tight around the waist. “I missed you.” You said, your voice small enough for only his ears. Your throat tightened as tears threatened to fall out. You missed him so much. His smell, his presence, his hot personality, his laugh, his smile, his frown, everything. You missed everything about it and the wait was finally over. His face was buried in the crook of your neck and he inhaled your scent.

“I fucking missed you so much,” he admitted. You two embraced for a while, just enjoying each other’s touch. Bakugou finally pulled away to get a look at you. He scans your body up and down and lets out a low whistle. “Is it me, or did you get even more gorgeous?” he smirks when you lightly hit him on the chest, embarrassed by his comment.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t! Looks like I’m not the only one who got an upgrade,” you joked. But were you joking? It was your turn to give Bakugou a good look and you the sight almost had you gasping. He was in a tight, black tank top which showed his rippling muscles. He might as well not be wearing a shirt because you could see everything. The shirt looks like its begging to be ripped apart from that godly body. His chest and shoulders got massively defined, his arms were twice the size you last saw them, but what surprised you the most was the tribal tattoo band that was wrapped around his shoulder. You poked at it, not believing that it was real.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, not realizing that you cursed. When you realized what you said, you quickly covered your mouth with both hands. Before Bakugou left for training, you never cursed. You even hit Bakugou whenever he did. But you were so used to the girls saying it, and eventually you ended up saying them, and now it was in your daily vocabulary.

“Woah, looks like somebody’s got a potty mouth,” Bakugou was genuinely surprised, but now he can tease you all he wants.

“Stop! It was an accident!” you swore. Now you’re going to have to watch what you say around him, or else he won’t live it down! But if he was going to tease you about it, you’d have to tease him right back. “You know, that’s not the only thing my mouth can do,” you looked straight at his lips and bit your lip. Bakugou cocked his eyebrow and a smirk slowly creeped up.

“Oh yeah? What can it do?” he challenged. He looked at your lips and started to inch forward. Just as your lips were about to touch, someone coughed loudly next to you. Both of you spun your head in that direction but had totally different reactions. Sero was standing there, arms crossed against his chest, a frown on his face and giving Bakugou a deadly glare.

“What did I say about being touchy-touchy with my sister?” he questioned. Bakugou only sighed and looked to the side. “If you don’t want to face your doom, do it in the bedroom,” he said dejectedly. Bakugou backed away for a second and you just jumped into your brother’s arms. Breaking his glare away from Bakugou, as soon as he laid eyes on you, his face glowed up. He caught you in his arms and spun your around, making you scream and laugh like you were a little girl again. Sero wasn’t a big as Bakugou but toned enough that it was still noticeable. He had an undercut that was similar to Bakugou’s. The only difference about Sero was that there was no tattoo.

“Missed me little sister?” he asked but he didn’t have to hear your answer. He already knew.

“Of course I missed you! Mom and dad will be so happy you’re back. They are already prepping a huge meal for your return!” you exclaimed. And now you were excited about food!! “I can’t wait to hear all your stories.”

“Trust me, there’s a ton. But I need to rest up first!” he took a step towards Bakugou and patted him on the back. “Take care of her for a bit?” he nodded in response which made Sero smile. He knew he could trust you around him and he wasn’t worried one bit. He turned to ruffle your hair and started to walk back home. Right when you thought that you were alone with Bakugou, another sigh could be heard.

“Man, what’s a guy got to do to get some attention around here?” you turned and another smile found your face.

“Eiji!” you ran up to him and immediately hugged him. He had grown his hair out quite a bit. Instead of spiking it up like he did before, his hair lay flat and he tied it into a ponytail. He was just as muscular as Bakugou with a tribal tattoo on the right side of his chest. Kirishima was a little shocked at first, but relaxed into the hug, hugging you back even tighter than before. If he hugged you even tighter, he swore you could hear how fast his heart was beating. Before it got too suspicious, he let you go and placed both hands on your shoulders.

“How has the princess been holding up?” you rolled your eyes.

“Wow, I really didn’t miss that,” you joked, but continued to play along. “The princess has been swell. She wasn’t lonely for she had made close companions and maybe replaced you two as thy best friends,” you mumbled fast towards the ends, hoping that they didn’t catch it but they 100% did. Their jaws dropped in disbelief and before they could bombard you with questions and tell you couldn’t drop and replace them, you started walking away. You didn’t get too far before Bakugou picks you up and slings you around his waist.

“Katsu!” you whined.

“Nuh-uh princess. No one can replace us. We are gonna bring you back to the palace so that no one can be your best friends besides us. Right, Kirishima?”

“Damn right! We’ll beat your new friends up cause they can’t protect you like we can!” And the entire walk back, both of them were telling their stories of their training, the fights they had and how much they missed you.

When the three of you arrived to Bakugou’s house, his father was already waiting there for you. Bakugou set you down and walked towards his father. When he was close enough, they both grabbed onto each other heads and connected their foreheads together. That was the manlier way of greeting instead of hugging.

“I’m home, dad,” he greeted his dad. He grunted in response.

“So?” his father questioned. You were confused by this question but Bakugou already seemed to understand. He nodded his head once which earned an approving smile and a pat on the shoulder. “That’s my son.” He said in a proud voice. The boys were away to train to see who would be come the next alpha leader. Turns out that Bakugou was deemed to take that position. Your eye lit up and you couldn’t be more proud of him. He waited his whole life to become the next clan leader and it was finally coming true.

“Now then,” his father continued, “Since you are going to become the next leader, we must start looking for a mate,” this comment caused both you and Bakugou to blush, leaving Kirishima in an awkward position. To save everyone from this awkward silence, Bakugou cleared his throat.

“About that, I-”

“And luckily, I have already found one for you,” Bakugou’s father said, sounding like he was proud of his decision. Bakugou’s face went from confusion to anger and Kirishima had to hold him back before he could do anything. You, on the other hand, could only open your mouth in disbelief, hurt could be seen in your eyes. What did he mean that he already found a mate for Bakugou? What about you? What about those two years that you spent together? What about the other two years waiting for him? For it to be wasted like it was nothing? Disregarding the many emotions floating around in the air, Bakugou’s father opened the door to the house and out stepped his fiancée. Bakugou still had a snarl on his face as he looked at the woman in front of him. He wasn’t thinking about anything, but you? This had to be a dream. Or a prank. Your fists clenched at your side, causing your knuckles to turn a deadly white, as you couldn’t believe at who was standing in front of you.

Uraraka Ochako?

tagged: @superblyspeedydragon

#bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #bnha kirishima #bnha bakugou #Katsuki Bakugō #bnha bakugou katsuki #bnha kirishima eijirou #Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima imagine #bakugou imagine #bnha imagines #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years ago

Text

The Girl with No Heartbeat Pt.7 ⊰JJ Maybank⊱

(gif not mine! all credit to to kitaplarinicindeyasayankiz!)

find the first 6 parts here on my masterlist!

word count - 6.0k warnings - some swearing, mentions of a fight and the aftermath, mentions of death and typical siren stuff (eating people and what not) synopsis - The hunt for the truth behind Big John’s disappearance is on. An impromptu dinner goes exactly how Mera thought it would. a/n - What is this??? Real plot?? In my mermaid!au?? Impossible. Well, here we are, bridging into canon material. It’s gonna be super different than actual canon, but it will have a good portion of the same stuff that happens. Also, my difference of opinions on Big John really comes out from fic to fic. Sometimes I hate him, sometimes I love him. It’s very interesting.

~~~

“What’s in that room?” Mera asked as she passed through the hallway, following closely behind John B. He had wanted to show her something, but when they passed by the locked door that she had seen so many times before, she let her curiosity get the best of her.

John B froze. The light and airy demeanor he usually carried around hardened and she watched him go stiff. Mera thought about taking her question back, but before she could, John B turned, looking at the door. There was a distance in his eyes, a deep pain.

“This is my dad’s office,” he said and set a hand against the chipped wood. Mera remembered that he said something about losing his dad when they first met. Her heart sunk. Reaching out, she put a hand on his arm, making him flick his eyes toward hers. “They said he was lost at sea. Do you think….”

His painful pause and the shaking of his eyes as he looked at her told Mera exactly what the rest of his question was.

“Show me a picture of him,” Mera said. If John B wanted to know if she had eaten his father, she would do anything to settle his mind. It would also make her feel better to know she hadn’t killed her new friend’s dad. John B walked back down the hallway a little more toward some pictures that were hung on the wall. He looked at one, a smile starting to pull on his lips.

“Here,” he said, tapping on the glass. “That’s my dad.”

Mera peered around John B’s shoulder and into the picture. Staring back at her was a kindly looking man with a soft smile on his lips. His hair was long and a scruffy, peppered beard grew from his face. A pair of round glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. Looking at him made Mera smile.

“Hello,” she whispered the the man behind the glass. “My name is Mera. I’m your niece.”

John B looked down at her, an eyebrow raised. Mera wasn’t sure why staring at this man’s face made her feel so welcome and yet so sad at the same time. His was a face she felt like she should know, but she didn’t.

She didn’t recognize him. That was good. There wasn’t a single soul she had dragged the depths that she didn’t remember. Looking over at John B, who was staring down at her expectantly, she shook her head.

“It wasn’t us,” Mera said and looked back at the picture. “If your father is dead, it wasn’t one of us who killed him.”

John B let out an exasperated growl, turning away from her and running his hands through his hair.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” She asked. “He still might be alive.”

“I don’t really care if he’s alive or if he’s dead, Mera,” he said. When he turned back to look at her, tears in his beautiful eyes. “I’m just sick of not knowing. I wake up every morning half expecting him to be passed out on the couch or working in the backyard and every morning it hits me again that he’s not here and I don’t know why.”

Mera let out a slow sigh through her nose and nodded her head.

“Then let’s find out,” she said firmly.

“What?”

“You and me. And the others if they want to help. We’re all smart enough together to figure this out.” Mera crossed her arms, determination set.

“What can we do that the cops haven’t already done?”

Mera scoffed.

“What are enforcers good for? All they’ve ever done in my line of business is terrorize people,” Mera said. John B almost cracked a smile as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“To be fair, your line of business was theft, murder, and general swashbuckling.”

Mera nodded her head and pursed her lips.

“Fair.” Mera took a step closer to John B, putting a hand on his arm once again. “Cos, you want answers and I want to help you get them, anyway that I can.”

“What could we do? Where would we even start?”

“Well,” Mera turned to look at the closed office door. “What was your dad working on before he went missing?”

John B sighed, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“He was looking for the Royal Merchant,” he said. Mera remembered him mentioning that too. She nodded. “I can help with that. I knew the survivor, Denmark Tanny. We worked together,” Mera said. John B’s eyes widened.

“There was a survivor?” He gawked. Mera looked at him and nodded.

“One. A slave. He lived and supposedly took the gold and-”

John B was pulling the keys from his pocket before she could say anything else, walking toward the lock.

Once the lock was free, John B paused with his hand on the doorknob and let out a calming breath.

“We could call the others and wait for them,” Mera told him. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

John B looked back at her with a soft smile.

“I’m not alone,” he said. “I have you.”

An unfamiliar feeling bloomed throughout Mera as John B turned back toward the door and pushed it open. A smile pulled gently at her lips and there was a sting of tears in her eyes. She’d only known John B and the others for a few days. How was it that they trusted her so much? And how was it possible that she had grown to trust them?

Mera followed after John B as he stepped into the dark and cluttered room. For a few moments, there was absolute silence as the two looked around. It was only broken by John B’s sharp intake of breath. He reached out and took Mera’s hand in his. She looked down, shocked at the sudden movement. When he squeezed her hand, she realized he was just looking for an inkling of comfort in a place that was so full of monsters and memories.

“This looks like my father’s quarters,” Mera said to break the second silence. “His thoughts were always all over the place. No one could really ever understand his methods, except my mother.”

John B let out a little laugh.

“Yeah.” He walked forward, letting his hand slide out of Mera’s as he stepped up to the desk. He ran his hand over a stack of dusty papers. “He never made sense to anyone else but me.”

“So, let’s figure out what he was working on just before he went out on that boat, who was he working with, everything.”

“My dad didn’t work with anyone,” John B said, sliding into a chair and scooping a pile of papers into his hands.

“Maybe something changed,” Mera replied settling herself in a chair across from him. “You never know. We need to go through every possible option.”

“Then we’re going to need more hands.”

“I’ll call the others.”

An hour later, JJ, Pope, and Kie were all standing in the office, looking around in awe.

“I’ve slept over a million times,” Pope said as he spun in slow circles, taking in everything. “And I’ve never once seen that door opened.”

“Me neither,” said JJ, who was poking at a board of old pictures.

“What can we do?” Kie asked, putting her hands on the back of Mera’s chair and leaning over her shoulder to read the papers she was holding.

“We’re just trying to find out what he was doing before he left,” John B said. “Just read anything you can get your hands on. Whatever seems important put in this pile over here.”

Kie nodded her head.

“Will do, Boss.” She picked up a stack of papers, hopped up onto a counter and started reading. Pope followed suit, but JJ kept wandering.

“Aren’t you going to help?” Mera asked, peering up at him. JJ shrugged, picking some paint off of the wall.

“My attention span doesn’t like sitting and reading for extended periods of time,” he said with a playful smile. Mera raised an eyebrow.

“Well, here. Look through these pictures then. See if anything stands out to you,” she said, shuffling through some of her papers and handing them to him. He smiled at her.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said in a southern drawl.

“Thank you, darling,” she mocked before returning to her papers. Once again, she missed the red tint of JJ’s ears as she looked away. What she didn’t miss was the way John B cocked a brow at her when she glanced up at him.

“What?” she said. John B shook his head and let out a little laugh.

“Nothing, cos.”

They spent the next few hours doing nothing more than this. Except JJ, who had to go outside and kick a tree for a few minutes to take out his pent up energy. Eventually, John B set down his papers and let out a heavy breath.

“Anyone else starving?” he asked.

“God, I thought you’d never ask,” Pope groaned, putting his papers down.

“I call shotgun!” JJ pulled himself all the way into the house (having been sitting in an open windowsill, one leg outside and one in) and ran for the front door. Kie rolled her eyes as Pope raced after him.

“The Wreck?” Kie asked, sliding off of the counter where she’d been perched.

“Sure,” John B said. Kie nodded her head as she lifted her arms, stretching out her back. Mera pushed herself out of the seat and dropped a hand on John B’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“Thank you,” he said to her, staring down at a picture of him and his dad. Mera just gave him a smile before falling in step with Kie.

~~~

It wouldn’t be a day on Kildare Island if everything went perfectly to plan.

As soon as the bus pulled up to the Wreck, JJ let out an over-exaggerated groan from the front seat. He stopped flicking his lighter lid.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” he said. Mera turned and peered out the front window. Her stomach dropped when she saw Rafe standing out by his motorcycle with Topper, Sarah, and another boy that Mera hadn’t yet met.

“We’ll just ignore them and they’ll ignore us,” Pope said confidently.

“Because that always works so well,” grumbled John B as he put the bus in park.

“As long as JJ doesn’t say anything stupid and Mera doesn’t punch anybody, we’ll be fine,” Pope said, his tone no less confident than before. Mera and JJ locked gazes and both rolled their eyes.

Kie was the first to open the side door, uncharacteristically silent. Of course she was. Sarah was there. Mera fully intended on getting to the bottom of their fued, hoping that she could somehow help to mend it, but now was definitely not the time, especially not when Rafe was standing right there.

Their secret friendship had to stay secret, for her sake and for his. All Mera could do was pray that he wouldn’t call attention to her as she clambered after Kie, who spared no time in strolling up to the Wreck as if the other group of teens weren’t there.

“Oh, hey, John B,” Topper said, smiling as the boys got out of the car.

“Ignore him,” Pope whispered. Mera slowed to a stop, turning just enough to indicate she was waiting for her friends. Her gaze passed over Rafe’s briefly and she stiffened. They both looked away.

“Hi, Mera,” Sarah said with a smile. “How are you?”

“I’m going well,” Mera replied with a smile. Topper snaked an arm around Sarah’s waist. Mera heard Kie suck in an irritated breath from behind. “Just hungry.”

“Aren’t we all,” Rafe said, putting his hands up in the air. “What if we all ate together? My treat.”

There was a series of eyerolls from everyone present. The only one who seemed to like the idea was Rafe, who was smiling. He met Mera’s gaze again and she pressed her lips together, doing her best to communicate how badly she did not want to be doing this.

“Come on.” Rafe elbowed Topper, who knocked into Sarah, who sent her brother a death glare as she wrapped her arms around her stomach. “It’ll be fun.”

Everyone was frozen solid, rooted where they stood. Mera glanced over at JJ, whose jaw was clenched tight, his gaze fixed on Rafe in a glare.

“I don’t care what we do,” Pope said tentatively, speaking as if he was walking on glass. “I just wanna eat.”

“So it’s settled.” Rafe walked forward and clapped JJ on the shoulder with one of his large hands. Mera flinched. Rafe turned toward her, walking up the ramp right past her. “This will be fun, yeah?”

Mera gave him her best glare as he walked by. Topper, Sarah, and the other boy followed after him quickly, but it took the others a little bit longer.

“So much for ignoring them,” John B grumbled to Pope who sighed and dipped his head.

“Why can’t we just have one normal meal?” He whined as the two of them walked toward the glass door.

“Are we really doing this?” Kie asked, arms crossed as she watched Sarah and Topper slid into the booth that her father had led them to.

“Do we have a choice?” Mera replied, her eyes fixed on Rafe who wore the biggest innocent smile she had ever seen. Her hands clenched into fists and she heavily considered punching him in the face again.

“I vote we make a break for it,” said JJ, standing on the other side of Mera.

“You’re really gonna run away from free food?” Mera asked him. He sighed and his stomach rumbled in response to her question. “Right. In we go.”

“Hey, Dad,” Kie said as she pushed the door open.

“You want to explain to me what exactly is happening here?” Mike Carrera said, leaning over the counter.

“If I could, I would tell you,” Kie said and rolled her eyes, making her dad chuckle.

“Mera,” Mike said, turning to look at her. “How are you doing?”

“Better, thank you,” Mera told him. She had come up with an easy lie that she ate too many Swedish Fish and they gave her strange dreams and that nightmares weren’t usual occurrences for her. Still, he seemed to worry.

“You ever need anything, you let me know,” he told her before nodding over at JJ. “JJ.”

“Hey,” was the boy’s response.

Mera followed Kie and JJ to the table. Kie sat as far away from Sarah as she possible could, sitting in between John B and the edge of the table across from Pope. JJ sat between Sarah and John B, leaving only one spot for Mera. Right across from him, in between Rafe and the other boy. She gave JJ a quick glare, but he didn’t see it.

Mera slid into her seat as quietly as she could, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

“I’m Kelce,” the boy said, extending a hand for her. Mera shook it amicably and gave him a strained smile. She turned her back almost completely on Rafe to give Kelce her full attention (and to pretend that Rafe was not there).

“Mera.”

“Rafe says you’re new around here.”

“Yeah, I just moved from California.”

“Really? Why would you trade California for this?” Kelcce laughed.

“Oh, you know, family or something like that,” Mera glanced over to John B with a smile, who pretended to be way too interested in the menu.

“You have family in the OBX?” Kelce asked as he took a drink of water.

“John over there is my cousin,” Mera said, pointing at him. Kelce choked on the water he was drinking, forced to cover his mouth with his hand.

“No fucking way.”

Mera laughed as she watched John B roll his eyes and mutter something under his breath.

“Yes fucking way.”

“Well, damn.” Kelce and Mera both laughed for a moment. “I’m glad to finally meet you. Rafe talks about you all the time.”

Mera felt ice run through her veins and she felt her cheeks heat up. Rafe spluttered through his own drink from the other side of her. Across the table, JJ tightened his grip around his knife.

“All good things, I’m sure.” Mera tried to keep the sneer out of her voice, but she wasn’t sure she succeeded.

Mike came over to take orders just after that. JJ asked for the most expensive thing on the menu, sending Rafe a cocky smirk which made Mera huff angrily. Rafe seemed completely unphased and ordered the exact same thing.

Rafe ignored Mera most of the night, so she was caught in pleasant small talk with Kelce, which wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. Considering who his friends were, he wasn’t the worst person to have a conversation with. She felt JJ tap her shin from underneath the table, making her look at him. She had to stifle a bout of laughter when she saw two straws sticking out of his nose.

“Watch this,” he said, leaning the straws into his almost completely full water cup.

“JJ, no,” Kie pleaded, dropping her chin into her propped up hands. Mera just watched on with an amused smile on her face. He sent her a wink just before blowing as much air out of his nose and through the straws as possible. Mera nearly shrieked with laughter as the water started to bubble as if it was boiling, spilling over the rim and onto the table.

“Classy,” Rafe said, his voice tight.

A waiter brought out their food. It was a mad scramble to get all the right things, but when everyone finally had their meal, the tension started to build up once again.

“So, Mera,” Sarah said, twisting her fork around the shrimp pasta. “There’s a party at my house this weekend and I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go.”

“Oh, um-”

Kie slammed her water cup down on the wood table.

“You’re just going to invite her and not everyone else here?” Kie asked, gripping the glass in her hand so tight that Mera was afraid she was going to shatter it. Pope and John B ate slowly, their eyes flicking between Sarah and Kie. Kelce seemed completely unbothered, minding his own business as he ate. JJ and Rafe were caught in an eating-slash-glaring contest.

“It’s Top’s birthday,” Sarah said, placing a hand over Topper’s that made Kie glare even harder. “I didn’t think you would come if I asked.”

“You could have asked anyway.”

“Kiara, do you want to come to Topper’s birthday this weekend?” Sarah asked, her voice tight and rising steadily.

“No, I fucking wouldn’t,” Kie hissed, shoving her chair backward and storming off. Mera cringed, standing to follow her. For the first time since sitting down, Rafe acknowledged her presence by grabbing onto her elbow.

“Don’t touch her,” JJ said.

“I can speak for myself, JJ,” Mera snapped. She snatched her arm from Rafe’s grip. “Don’t touch me.”

“My sister asked you a question, Mera,” he said, looking up at her. Mera sighed.

“Sarah, thank you for the offer. I’ll have to think about it,” Mera said, trying to give Sarah an honest smile. Sarah just nodded, pulling her hand from Topper’s and leaning back in her chair, looking defeated. “Happy early birthday, Topper.”

“Thank you, Mera.” The smile the boy gave her felt fake, but she wasn’t sure why.

Pope stood up from his chair, obviously still thinking about Kie, and went to find her.

“This fish is really good,” John B said, looking at his plate as he tried to fill the awkward silence that followed Pope’s departure.

“Yeah,” Kelce agreed. Mera had barely even touched her food, but her stomach was rolling with discomfort.

“You wanna take this outside?” Rafe growled, suddenly standing up.

“Let’s fucking go, dude,” JJ snapped in return.

“What-”

Mera didn’t even have time to ask a question before both boys booked it for the front door.

John B and Topper glanced at each other for a moment before following after their friends.

“Topper!” Sarah cried. Soon, she too was gone. Mera let out a sigh, slouching in her chair while Kelce continued to eat his food in peace.

“They’re fighting, aren’t they?” Mera huffed, looking at her food. Kelce nodded slowly.

“They’re definitely fighting.”

“How’s the fish?” She asked, picking up her spoon again to start eating. Somewhere outside, there was a scream and a loud crashing sound.

“It’s amazing. Mr. Carrera always makes the best food.”

“Could I try a bit?”

“Sure, as long as I can try some of that soup.”

Kelce and Mera swapped dishes as the sounds of shouting grew louder.

“Man, that is some good soup,” Kelce said.

“Right?” They swapped plates again. “And that fish is cooked to perfection.”

“It always is.”

“Do you think Sarah would mind if I…?” Mera nodded toward Sarah’s nearly full plate. Kelce shook his head.

“She’s not likely to come back for it.”

“Great. You want some?”

“Hell yeah.”

The two picked food off of the left over plates, chatting back and forth and moaning over how good all the food was until the front door burst open once again.

“Mera,” a sweaty and bloody faced John B said. “We’re leaving.”

Mera stood up quickly, grabbing one last roll of bread.

“It was wonderful to meet you, Kelce,” she said as she shimmied around him.

“And you too,” he replied. “We should do this again sometime.”

Mera looked outside and grimaced.

“Maybe not.”

“Nah, probably not.”

“See you around?”

“Yup.”

With that, Mera rushed outside to join her friends in the bus.

“Fat load of help you were,” JJ huffed at Mera as she held an ice pack to his eye. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t want to the food to go to waste,” she said.

“You sat there and ate with Kelce while we got beat up?”

“Yes, because I try not to act like a child,” she snapped at him. JJ grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest. Kie drove and Pope was in the passenger seat, leaving Mera in the back with the bloodied up boys. It wasn’t anything too serious, just a few bruises and a busted lip or two, but they still looked miserable.

“Well, that was delightful,” Pope mused in a mocking tone. “And I didn’t even get to finish my dinner.”

“Trust me, it was really good,” Mera told him. He turned around and stuck his tongue out at her, making her laugh quietly. “On the bright side, Rafe still had to pay for everything.”

That didn’t really make anyone else feel any better.

“What’s going on with you and Rafe anyway?” JJ asked. Mera scowled down at him, her heart starting to pound.

“Nothing. I work at his house, that’s all,” she told him as she moved over to John B to help him clean the blood off of his nose.

“I work at his house and there’s nothing weird between us,” John B said.

“Hate to break it to you, buddy,” Pope said, “but you’re not a smoking hot girl.”

Mera’s face flushed as Kie scolded Pope, who didn’t really seem to understand what exactly he had said wrong until it was too late.

When Mera looked back at JJ, he was still watching her carefully. He wasn’t glaring like he was before, but he definitely wasn’t happy. He was getting suspicious. She did her best to smile at him before finally settling down. They were mostly silent all the way back to the Chateau. The only sound to be heard was the rumbling of Pope’s stomach.

~~~

Pope and John B raided the fridge when they got back, nearly fighting over the only non-expired can of yogurt. Kie went straight home. JJ flopped on the couch, pulling a magazine out from under his pillow. He refused to look up at Mera as she leaned against the wall, laughing quietly as Pope and John B bickered.

She had a feeling that JJ was mad at her. Part of her wanted him to just come out and say it so that she could just explain everything without feeling like an idiot. Another part of her wanted to ignore him right back. She went with the latter choice. The rest of the night, Mera and JJ didn’t speak to each other, talking instead through Pope and John B, who were far too hungry to notice.

By the time everyone was ready for bed, Mera could barely keep her eyes open.

“Night,” she called sleepily to the boys, who had all elected to sleep on the pullout together, leaving her the spare room.

“Night,” Pope and John B chorused, already half asleep.

“Night, princess.”

Mera was almost too sleepy to hear JJ. Almost.

~~~

Going to work the next day was probably one of the most nerve wracking things she had done in a long while. Even if Rafe blamed her for how last night ended, Mera didn’t care. He had started it. She was more than prepared to take him on in a duel if that was what he wanted. She was mostly afraid that word would get back to Ward and he would fire her or that Sarah wouldn’t want to be her friend anymore. Neither of which sounded fun to her.

Luckily, Sarah greeted her with the same smile she did every morning and Ward was nowhere to be found.

“Did you think about coming to Topper’s birthday tomorrow night?” Sarah asked, helping Mera move a large fridge out of the way so she could dust off a wooden nightstand.

“Not yet,” Mera said. “Last night was a little bit crazy.”

Sarah rolled her eyes.

“If my brother wasn’t such a dick all the time, I think I could actually make friends with you guys. I just wish his reputation hadn’t tarnished mine.” There was a real sadness in her voice as she spoke.

“I don’t think it’s your brother,” Mera told her truthfully. Sarah froze.

“What?”

“It’s Kiara. Whatever happened between you two, that has to be fixed before there’s any hope at all of you being friends with the others.”

Sarah seemed to deflate.

“Kiara will never forgive me,” she said.

“I don’t believe that.”

When Sarah looked up at Mera, there were large tears in her eyes.

“I fucked up, Mera,” she whispered, her words shaking and full of grief. “Real bad. And it’s been so long and I let the bad blood between us go on for too long and I don’t think I can ever make things right with her again.”

Mera sighed and put a hand on Sarah’s shuddering shoulder.

“Do you want to make things right?” Sarah nodded vehemently. “Then don’t give up. Kie will come around eventually.”

Sarah nodded again, slower this time, and swallowed.

“Do you want me to find you some stain or something for that?” Sarah asked, pointing at the nightstand. “It’ll make it look better.”

“I would really appreciate that, Sarah,” Mera said with a smile.

“Be right back.”

Rafe didn’t come to see Mera at all that day, or the next day for that matter. Mera was disappointed only because she wanted to fight at him so badly. JJ was warming up to her again, but still really only spoke to her on the rare occasion. Mera was also ready to fight him too. Hell, she was prepared to fight them both if it came down to it. All she would need was a sword….

“So, Mera,” John B said from across the table, pulling her from her thoughts. “You decided if you’re going over to Sarah’s tonight?”

“Um, yeah, actually,” Mera said, shaking her head. “I was going to head over in a bit. Sarah is going to lend me something to wear.”

John B nodded his head slowly, but JJ just crunched on his burnt toast.

“You’ll be careful, right?” John B said. Mera watched him carefully for a few seconds.

“You’re not seriously going to father me right now.” “What?”

“My own father has said those exact same words to me before a party,” Mera said, now trying to hide a smile. John B scowled, flustered.

“I’m not...I just wanna make sure...I mean, you’re kinda my responsibility and I want you to be safe,” John B said, crossing his arms. Mera couldn’t help but laugh as she stood and stood next to him.

“Sure, Dad.” Her comment made John B roll his eyes.

“Be sure to bring protection,” JJ said almost bitterly. The light atmosphere dampened as Mera and John B both turned to look at him.

“I don’t have a sword,” Mera told him. JJ’s eyelids fluttered shut and she could tell that he was trying not to laugh at her, which made her mood turn sour.

“That’s not the kind of protection he means,” John B said with a slight upturn of a smile. She scowled down at him, not really wanting to ask for an explanation but hoping he would give one anyway. “He’s talking about condoms, dear cousin.”

“I’m unfamiliar with the term.”

“You’re telling me you went out tapping without condoms?” JJ asked, leaning forward on the table, crossing his hands in front of him. “Yeesh.”

“Will one of you please act like a grownup and explain to me what you’re talking about?” Her tone was harsher than she had meant it, but it seemed to snap John B into order.

“They’re for sex, Mera. You...wrap your willy with it to protect from diseases and to keep the girl from getting pregnant,” John B said, refusing to look at her.

“Oh. Hmm. That sounds rather useful. I’ll be sure to bring one of those then,” she said. “Thank you, JJ.”

He blanched at her statement.

“No, you weren’t-” He froze and scowled. “Fine. Whatever. Do what you want.”

With that, he pushed him out of his seat and walked out the front door.

“I’m extremely confused,” Mera said. “Do you mind explaining to me what just happened?”

“I may be thinking that JJ doesn’t want you sleeping with anyone at that party,” John B explained, his eyes fixed on the door, a small smirk on his face. He looked up at Mera, who continued to scowl.

“I don’t see the problem,” she said. John B heaved out a sigh and pushed himself out of his chair. He dropped a hand on her shoulder and pressed his lips into a fine line.

“I don’t either. I mean, JJ goes after any one who has a heartbeat. I can’t imagine why he’d be upset with you for doing the same thing.”

With that, John B walked toward the back of the house, leaving Mera alone in the silence, painfully aware of the dead heart that refused to beat in her chest.

~~~

Mera stood scowling in front of the mirror. Sarah stood off to the side, trying to hide an excited grin behind her hands.

“Do you like it?”

Mera hummed quietly to herself. She didn’t quite know yet if she liked the outfit. Sarah had put her in a loose white top with long, flowing sleeves, almost similar to the kinds of blouses that Mera was used to wearing. But the sleeves came off the shoulders and the collar dipped a little lower than Mera may have been comfortable with. Sarah paired the shirt with a brown skirt that twirled beautifully, but was rather short. It was the color and the fabric type that Mera might have worn as pants, but never this cut. There were sandals on her feet, but she was sure she was going to take them off. Her hair was braided and Sarah had even put makeup on her. It was completely different from what she remembered makeup being like.

Somehow, the person staring at her looked like her, but didn’t look like her at the same time.

“Wait, I have an idea,” Sarah said, running toward one of her dressers. “It’ll just tie the entire thing together.”

She returned with a thick, dark brown belt. It was less of a belt and more of a corset. Mera’s eyes widened at the sight of it. She had always wanted a corset, but her mother had never let her get one.

“Turn around.”

Mera did as she was told and Sarah wrapped the thing around her, clipping it behind her back. Mera expected there to be some tightness or discomfort, but she felt perfectly fine. Turning back toward the mirror, Mera nodded her head. It did really pull the entire outfit together. The large buckle in the front reminded her of a belt that she used to wear almost daily. The smile on Mera’s face became real as she smoothed out the skirt.

“I love it,” she said, looking at Sarah. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Sarah said with a wave of her hand. “Anything for you. Come on now, the boys will be waiting for us.”

Sarah hooked her arm through Mera’s and started to pull her toward the door.

“The...the boys? Why?”

“They’re our protection for the night.” Mera scowled. That was the second time she had heard that word and this time, she didn’t think it meant a sword or a condom.

“I’m confused.”

“Listen, two beautiful girls like us can’t go to a party alone, not even in our own house. You need someone to always hold your drink while you’re in the bathroom. You need someone watching your back while you’re dancing or playing games. Topper is looking out for me, obviously, and Kelce said he’d look out for you. Naturally, that means they are our dates.”

“Wait, what? Drinks? Dates? Kelce?”

“I asked Rafe to watch out for you, but he said he wasn’t coming, so I had to ask Kelce. Haven’t you gone to a party before? Always make sure someone is watching your drink so you don’t get drugged. It’s rule number one.”

“God,” Mera breathed as Sarah pulled her down the stairs.

“Yeah, crazy world, right? Girls can’t go to a simple birthday party without being afraid of getting attacked.” It was a serious subject to Mera, something she had seen happen so many times that she was almost shocked to hear how casually Sarah was talking about it. But then she realized that Sarah spoke so plainly because it was so rampant. Sarah had desensitized herself to the reality of the world so she could still enjoy a night with her friends without the crippling fear of being assaulted.

“I’ll protect you,” Mera said seriously, pulling Sarah to a stop. “No one will hurt you.”

Sarah gave her a soft smile and squeezed her hand.

“Thank you. I will always have your back, too.”

Even though Sarah looked calm, Mera could feel her heart pounding through her hands.

“Come on, the boys are waiting,” Mera said, a smile spreading across her face.

“Damn right they are.” Walking up the stairs was Topper and Kelce, both dressed spiffily.

“Baby!” Sarah cried, running forward to embrace her boyfriend. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, babe,” he said, putting his arms around Sarah’s shoulders and giving her a kiss.

“Happy birthday,” Mera told him as Kelce walked forward to stand beside her. Topper barely heard her, too occupied with Sarah’s lips. “They’re not going to talk to us for the rest of the night, are they?”

Kelce sighed and shook his head.

“It’s unlikely.”

“Great.”

“You wanna head down? Everything’s in full swing.”

Mera sucked in a deep breath, calming her nerves the best she could before nodding.

“Why the hell not?”

Kelce walked beside Mera as they made their way down the steps. Mera’s eyes scanned the crowd of people waiting at the bottom and she felt her breath hitch.

“You good?” Kelce asked. Mera nodded, but her teeth were sinking into her lower lip until she tasted blood.

“I just haven’t been around this many people in a long time,” she told him honestly. “It’s a bit overwhelming.”

“I take it you weren’t a party girl in California.”

“No, I definitely was. I’ve just been...away…from the lifestyle for a while.”

“Well,” Kelce said with a heavy sigh. “Why don’t we just walk through these people to that bar over there and drink until we’re drunk. How about that?”

Mera felt herself smile and she nodded.

“I would love that.”

~~~

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