#just imagining him at a fancy dinner party shit talking someone to their face. but in a Hannibal way yk

[tantamounttoflirtation]

Ok so here's my question. Does post-fall Hannibal have a hard time putting his person suit back on? He spent 3 years in jail being as bitchy as possible and now he has to go back to pretending again. He would probably be alright but I feel like every once in a while he wouldn't be able to stop himself from being a cunt to someone; not in a rude™️ way but definitely not in a subtle way either.

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 11

WC: 2077

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: full on angst, discussions of emotional trauma, mild depictions of blood/gore, mentions of self h*rm & su*cide, mentions of child abuse, discussions of physical disabilities, institutionalization, some dialogue & plot canon to TV show, hurt/comfort

🧠

The rest of the conference went by much like the first day did. Both you and Laszlo bought a few books for your collections. An ease had settled over your conversations with the help of Sara and John's presence; you spoke more freely with each other. You tell yourself it is not because he's going soft on you or vice versa, but rather that you have found yourself in this imaginary bubble where you happen to get on well. It's inevitable that it will pop once you’re back at school and Laszlo will revert back to his usual callous state.

Laszlo. It still felt odd to think of him like that, rather than by his title. You couldn't lie, it gave you a sort of thrill. Even in your dreams you had only called him by his honorific. Thankfully you didn't have another dream after Friday. You couldn't escape the feeling that you'd said something incriminating in front of the man in question. So you chose to pretend it didn't happen.

Monday morning came and you headed to the train station. Once again he had secured a private cabin for the journey. This time you came prepared with a book since you had yet to replace your broken phone.

"Thank you again for inviting me to this, I really enjoyed myself. It was really nice of the department to foot my travel expenses, the hotel was really fancy. I may have helped myself to a mini-bottle or two," you joked.

"There is no need to worry about the department's finances; they were not involved."

You pause. He paid for you? Laszlo did say he would take care of the arrangements; but the four-star hotel, the private compartment train tickets, the admission to the conference, and every meal? Shit, that must have been a fortune, hundreds of dollars at least.

You don't know what to say, so you settle for an awkward "oh." A moment passes before you add "I appreciate that, um, I can pay you back. Might take some time but I can."

The professor is flippant in his reply. "There is no need, it was well spent for the research and knowledge acquired." He opens his book signaling the conversation is over.

You lick your lips. Fine then, I'll just consider it payment for emotional suffering and damages of the last eight weeks.

The first few hours of the journey were spent reading one of the new books you picked up at the convention. Occasionally you would peek over the pages at the professor. He was engrossed in his own selection; sometimes he would pause to write down a thought.

Around the seventh hour of your journey you had given up on reading anymore in favor of looking at the fields outside. The silence was comforting.

Laszlo had trouble concentrating on the book in his hand. He saw you as a conundrum. One minute you could be sociable and teasing with your comments, then next you were biting at his throat with your quick wit and fierce ideals. He decides that he wants to know what made you into who you are today. Now is as good a time as any.

His eyes on you cause a tingle up your spine but you ignore it. Laszlo breaks the silence; "may I ask a personal question?"

"You just did," you answer, still peering out of the large window. He huffed once, amused. At his following silence you face him. You raise your eyebrows to signal him to go on with his question. Curiosity grows at the thought of what he intends to ask.

"Twice now you have made implications of a traumatic past," he begins.

Bubble popped.

Interrupting, you snark "is this the part where you psychoanalyze me, doc? Because trust me, I've been through enough of that." You pick at the lint on your jeans.

Laszlo tries to choose his words more carefully the next time he speaks. "What I mean to say is, the first afternoon in the classroom where you defended that student you implied you had been witness to a trauma. You then displayed signs of anger and embarrassment before leaving prematurely. Yesterday you mentioned having entered a psychiatric facility. As an alienist I can't help but find myself curious about your experiences."

You slide your eyes to meet his from across the cabin. Your face is devoid of any emotion. "We all have our demons. Even you can't argue with that."

Your jaw clenches. Everyone had warned you. They all said he would try to worm his way into your head to figure you out. All the reviews, the gossip, everything. It was a big fat 'I told you so'. You give a pitiful laugh at the situation. "You know, everyone told me that you would pull this stunt."

He seems confused by your statement. "And what is that?"

"That you'd get inside my head and try to figure me all out or whatever. You already know I googled you beforehand, what everyone says about your methods. By now I assume you've done a little research yourself. I promise you there is nothing exciting here," you scoff and point to yourself.

"You would be correct in your assumption." You chew at your cheek as he starts. "I do know some of what happened in your past. Yet I also know that society likes to dilute the truth into something either more palatable, more entertaining, for people to consume greedily. What I want to know is what you have faced. How you have not allowed the experience to overcome you so much so that your humanity is erased like the characters I lecture on."

Eyes closing of their own volition you are thrown back in time to that night so many years ago. You didn't talk about it anymore. Bitsy knew of course, but that was the extent.

Laszlo waits. He knows this is likely to push you over the edge if your history with him means anything. Quite frankly, anyone would be tossed to their limit at his interrogation had they gone through what you had. John always told him that he needed to work on his bedside manner; that he had a habit of coming on too strong in his pursuit of learning the intricacies of the human mind. But your earlier comment about being sent to a so-called 'nuthouse' rubbed him the wrong way. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He needed to know. He needed to understand.

Laszlo can imagine the reprimand that he would receive from John and Sara for this. Just as he considers apologizing for his intrusion you open your eyes.

"She was fine. None of us suspected anything was wrong. I came home from having dinner with some… boy, and she had locked herself in the bathroom. She- she must have started over the sink and moved to sit on the side of the tub. She was hunched inside it when I got the door open. I pulled her out. Blood was… everywhere." Your voice is clinical as you explain.

"After, I shut down. So I checked myself into a psych ward a few days later when I couldn't get the feel of her blood off my hands. It's slippery, you know. And it smells. You wouldn't think so but it does." You clear your throat. "I did the therapy, took the meds they prescribed, all the standard treatments. Later I started watching true crime documentaries. I'd heard about exposure therapy so I figured the more I saw the gore, the less the image of my dead roommate would bother me. And it did help. The nightmares stopped after a while, I came back to school. I was better, just not the same.” You had watched the passing landscape as you explained. Turning to face him you speak again. “That's why those pictures didn't bother me. They weren't anything I hadn't seen before."

He contemplates you. The discovery and subsequent loss of your friend in this manner would no doubt cause lingering effects to your psyche. A stain that would forever remind you. "I offer my sincerest condolences. I do not presume to know what that would be like to experience, but I am glad you sought help afterwards. To make the choice to alleviate yourself of your own suffering where possible.”

As he says this he realizes that your anger towards the idea of being enslaved to unconscious impulse makes perfect sense. It explains why you focused so much energy on defending your belief in free will. That you have the power to choose how you carry your joy, your anger, your healing. It reminds him of how he held onto his own guilt and hurt, ignoring how it festered within him for so long. He feels as though he needs to share a piece of himself with you.

“I played piano as a child, quite well too. My mother hoped I would someday make a career of it. I vividly remember playing Mozart’s Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D Minor at a holiday party when I was seven years old. It was my favorite to play.... It requires two hands." You finally look at him. "My father...” He pauses to gather himself.

Now it is the doctor that cannot meet your eyes. As you listen you feel your confusion grow. How could he have been a talented pianist if he only had full use of his left hand? Unless..., the realization dawns on you just as he continues, his words slow.

“My father had two sides. One loving and the other brutal, the two often coexisting. It was something as trivial as putting me to bed, I recall... A game of tug of war. We were laughing…” He inhales a sharp breath. Already you can feel the tears begin to blur your vision. “I don't remember if he was drunk or if I said something that offended him. He must have pulled my arm behind my back.” Laszlo exhales shakily. “In small children, fractures can often affect…” he trails off, unable to finish. You can hear how he barely holds himself together.

Your heart aches for the broken man that sits in front of you. He never let on how much his arm bothered him, at least not within your presence. Suddenly you don’t see him as this rude, insufferable, obsessive man, but instead as someone that spends his life trying to protect himself. He projects his own anger and hurt so that he may, just for a minute, forget about his own demons. He wants to help others even when he feels he cannot bear to help himself.

But unlike you, he has to live with the physical reminder of his past every day of his life.

You stand and move to sit on his right side. Before allowing yourself to think too much of your actions, you place your hand atop his own, curling your fingers around his palm and squeezing delicately. You don’t bother wiping away the tears on your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Laszlo;” the whisper is barely heard above the sound of the train. A second passes where you fear you have overstepped and offended him by touching the affected limb. When his thumb tightens against the backs of your fingers you know he is not. He holds you in place.

“You asked me how I kept my humanity. How does anyone really? We learn to take what we get and we carry it in a bag. Sometimes you have to drag the damn thing behind you. But eventually the weight gets less and less if you allow yourself to move forward, even if it’s still there with you all the time. I dealt with what happened years ago and it does still haunt me. It’s easier now than it was, but… I- I suppose I’ve learned from you too. Sitting in those lectures and hearing you talk. We can either let it haunt us for the rest of our lives… or we can accept it… and use the memory of our pain to help ourselves and others.”

“I’m not sure the choice is entirely in our hands.” His tone is mournful.

You turn to smile at him through your tears. His own eyes are bloodshot. “I disagree. If it weren’t, if we didn’t have the freedom to choose that, we’d all be murderers.”

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[sugar-petals]

:: random things about boyfriend yoongi

↳ ♡ NOTE I saw this format floating around the fandom and thought it was cool and sweet (just like our honey boy so here it goes) 😊  includes an sfw and nsfw bit, both can be read independently.

words. 3k

SFW

First off, Yoongi is laid-back and casually sexy the way we know him. But he also has spikes of energy where he actually gets a little clingy. Any opportunity he will use to hold hands or jump around like a madman with his gummy smile because he got excited about something that you never could predict would make him so happy. He truly is an epiphany.

He’s your most eager personal chef but funnily enough a little unsettled by onions so you end up helping him. Yoongi hates to be crying in the kitchen because of some evil little vegetable but hey, perfect time and place to spend half an hour huddled together cooking or baking. And Yoongi is secretly longing for a cheesy scene, he finds it romantic when you wipe the tears from his face.

His way of speaking to you is a mix of mumbly Korean, high-pitched pouty cat speak, and old-school English slang phrases that he learned somewhere on social media or award shows back in 2018. Most of the time he takes things seriously but is up for some joking anyway. He is sure to giggle every now and then which is really adorable of him. Yoongi is also the person who gets every nuance of your humor and reacts to it.

After being single, you really have to get used to someone waddling around the house. Like— oh, he’s there! And it’s none other than him! Since Yoongi isn’t noisy when he concentrates on his laptop, it really stands out when he morphs from his unmovable rock-like being to a slow rolling stone headed towards the kitchen from time to time. You have to blink every time. And how could you not look up, he’s walking by with his cutest oversized sweaters and striped fluffy socks.

He cannot hide things that normal people would try to keep secret — because of their own discomfort, but he is good at blocking out things that serve your comfort. I’ll explain what I mean. If you have been keeping up with Yoongi postponing the reveal of his surgery until it was successful, you know what I mean. In short, Yoongi is pretty much an automatic filter for things that disturb you. Knowing the right time and place to inform you is the key. As is disregarding things that don’t concern you as a couple, unnecessary drama and opinions. He’s really good at that without ever trying to sugar-coat the important things because he remains a frank and honest soul.

Yoongi has an easier time giving random presents for simple occasions rather than making a big deal out of traditional festivities. So, big celebrations are often kept simple — unless the rest of BTS is there advocating their ‘a little party never killed nobody’ motto — while Yoongi focuses on getting you something attentive or useful every other day pretty much. He’s still a frugal type, you know him. It’s more about inexpensive things that catch his eye because he heard you likes this or that type of snack or want this or that sofa cushion. 

There’s always something new and surprising in the fridge and it’s hardly ever empty because Yoongs takes care of the groceries, really thinking it through. Just personal chef things. Being Yoongi’s partner must be the most destressing thing. He takes responsibility for the worldly things, the ironing clothes and the trash cans. He himself thinks that’s the easiest shit ever and is ready to put time into it (he sees the merit, it drives him) while thinking your side — the sheer act of being in love with him, being there for him — must be hard. Which it isn’t. 

Yoongi thinks emotions and relationships are tough and complicated while daily life runs smoothly at the snap of a finger. You think maintenance is a drudgery while love is not the maze your boyfriend assumes it is. Deep down Yoongi thinks he’s unlovable and a bad person, that’s why he believes he doesn’t have the burden but you have. That your affection then blazes past the barriers in Yoongi’s esteem is something that he finds incredible. It catches him off guard there, you burst the bubbles of the flaws he falsely imagines he has.

You bet your ARMY bomb you’re watching cat videos together.

Guess who’s the first person to hear all of Yoongi’s upcoming hit tracks? Even Namjoon gets the first sample ten minutes later. You gotta be really advanced at keeping secrets and avoiding accidental leaks with your phone or something.

Yoongi hesitates with the analogy because it’s a little funny and you’re evidently not a steaming liquid made of beans, but he claims you really are like his daily americano. Makes his every morning better. 

Now, in all seriousness. What means the most to him is that you take him how he is and are stable company. Yoongi is afraid of betrayal and stupid games so he has to be sure to have a safe bet going. I think that’s why he fancies marriage, it’s a sign of commitment and some degree of permanence to him. And yes, he is a bit jealous in nature since he’s easily invested in someone with a purity of feeling, almost in a naive way. Yoongi easily idolizes his partner and puts a lot of energy into a bond. He wants to protect that, take the risk, and he has watched for someone who radiates genuine trust and faith. He is sure to have found it in you without any illusions and he is right. Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty.

Playing the piano for dinner or date night is a must, he practices constantly to advance to a great standard. He secretly finds a lot of satisfaction in you cooing at his skills and melodies. Those ten bony fingers gliding over the keys with such a technicality and focus, and a passion that makes you hold your breath, it’s great to watch.

Did you see that one coming? He will compose and produce a designated mixtape only for you personally. Yes, with a little self-filmed, self-cut music video for the title track. 

Now those things never see the light of day, they’re all for you. But what about your couple life once it touches the social realm? As one might expect, Yoongi is very ‘eyes turn narrow’ with people who bring disharmony to your dynamic and the relationship in general. In fact, he is grumpy and disappointed, and should someone give him a reason, distinctly brutal. If someone even attempts to test you or plays manipulative games, Yoongi is relentlessly turning them from the inside out with his words that never miss the mark. They’re efficient. As I said, he hates playing annoying games, he’ll do any shortcut and be Yoongi.

I guarantee you can lean back and will never the fazed by stupid people and time wasters again. No need to lose face. Yoongi does the dirty work and is the best possible defender to have on your side. He handles that. Invasive opinions and useless phrases he will shove right up some trashtalker’s ass and leave. Let’s squarely say he is unafraid to be a armchair critic of your and his haters and doesn’t want any of that nuisance to disturb what you have together. He cuts very quick and makes sure not to get tangled up in trouble.

Yoongi will also debunk a whole bunch of weirdos on weverse asking about your private love while he’s at it. Prepare for some very entertaining snide remarks. Oh my god, so many entitled people will be pissed off. Many will also celebrate him for stepping up. What’s actually important to Yoongi is that nobody taints what is like a treasure to him.

It won’t be hard to overlook that Yoongi is very proud of you as well. He looks confident and revering when he hangs out with the group and you’re somewhere close by, even just doing something trivial.

He’s also pretty touchy, sometimes publically to demonstrate something, but mostly in the relative calm and safety of a hotel room. When the lights are out, all barriers crash, the utter romantic takes over. His favorite types of kisses besides those onto his hands are when you kiss his lashes. And yep. Yoongs is such a cozy little spoon. A very curled up one with cute shooky pajamas on most likely.

Talk about clothes. Believe it or not, Yoongi’s fashion goes through a significant change due to the relationship. He knows that you are touchy and thinks about what kinds of flannels are the biggest cuddle magnet, after all. And oh wonder, he will also show some level of skin when he accidentally hears your praises for his arms and legs and collar bones and glowy skin while talking to a close friend of yours. So, look forward to that in summer (he still dislikes the winter cold and wraps himself into scarves twice his size, mind you) though it’s still for your eyes only, he covers up when going out. Truth be told, he enjoys when you casually touch his skin. Especially the arms. Which hold up the firmament to you, and your world, too, and guard it.

BTS will know about how excited he is about you because he often boasts about for how long you’ve been living together by now. We all know this is Yoongi’s favorite way of bragging and it further shows that loyalty, dedication and longevity is the spice to his every meal.

Yoongi is probably going to quit the bottle because you naturally make him feel at ease and upbeat. In fact, he simply forgets about his wine. I don’t have to convince you that Yoongi will be very immersed in any interaction with you whether that be watching movies or discussing his latest tracks. 

Those discussions come with extra back massages for him because he spends a lot of hours in his chair. Especially around the neck, it’s no secret that this is in every cat’s top 3 favorite massaging areas. Yoongi is gonna make some really raspy, sleepy sounds and just melt in your hands. He’s gonna sleep like a baby afterwards every time. Sometimes, he says funny and cute things while he dozes. He looks very content.

Say goodbye to the 21st century adulting annoyances in your life because Yoongi has a grip on those without a word. Those six specific chores that always plague you take him only a dozen minutes and he is eager, the forms to fill out are already sent off, the list of people to e-mail is weeded through. The taxes are paid, the bank account is full, the meals are on the table, garnished to perfection. Roof over the head, and it’s a sturdy one, Yoongi bought a sound haven house to inhabit a lot of happiness for two. 

He’s probably the only person who doesn’t see it as a loss of dignity if you want to hold on tight to him during a dentist visit as a grown ass mf. Why all of this? Yoongi cannot not strive to feel needed in his actions. He wouldn’t like himself if he couldn’t contribute something reliable and useful. That you find things worthy of your time is priority. You complement each other, what you think is a waste of energy makes him work and strive and vice versa. That way, in the end all things are taken care of.

Giving is more important than taking in Yoongi’s world. He thinks of everything because he considers it an offense to have you in a pile of duties, that is, if you don’t like ‘em. It’s his form of dedicating his efforts and showing respect. He doesn’t need much in return. The things he expects if at all don’t feel like a duty: Much like he doesn’t consider doing those acts of services for you likewise.

Work horse he is, he needs something on his daily to-do plan. Which includes making you feel unbothered by the occasions of an incoming strict world when it’s getting to you. You’re supposed to do what you feel like doing just like him and not slave away at fifty deeds. That you torture yourself with daily life hassle is the thing he dislikes seeing the most. He enjoys doing these things so he’s happy to get going.

What’s not a daily life hassle: Holly is a big fan of yours. Instant friendship. Just wanted you to know.

He always knows how to preoccupy himself and finds something to improve. Getting on your nerves, and that’s no surprise, is the last thing Yoongi will ever do. In fact, you sometimes have to search for his napping spot because he got lost somewhere in the house. 

He either sleeps or works, his philosophy is simple. If you need him, he does appear seemingly out of nowhere. And, he spends as much time with you as you enjoy, not always prioritizing his producing unless it’s urgent or he’s on an inspiration streak. Which is great anyway, you can sit next to him listening. It’s the right balance of work and play.

Yoongi is not above blatantly showing off. Actually, he goes for an act of stunning pretty often. You know how cats parade around whatever they just caught. He wants to impress you with assets and accolades and appraisals, the boy can’t help it. That you only lightly nod at most of it with a little smile will confuse him but he will get the point later on. You wanna signal Yoongi that you anchor your love for him not in shifting numbers and chunky metal pieces. 

That you don’t confuse his signs of outward worth and fame with the core of the guy you find the sweetest in the world is very important to him. He will take some time to see through that because he’s used to being loved through status and its symbols by people close and afar. 

The way you throw yourself at him to give a big smooch in random situations — especially when he doesn’t feel great about himself— rather than only when he say gets a new car is sending him a message. Again, he has to grow into that. He will retreat at the beginning because he feels worthless of your affection on days where he doesn’t feel big and bold and successful. But since he sees you jumping on him because you need only his kind and squishy presence and see him as no different than usual because he’s always Yoongi underneath, your boyfriend will change his mind about it sooner or later. He learns that your presence makes him feel like a billion dollars yourself.

You don’t wallow in the regrets of other people missing the point of Yoongi and instead focus on always understanding him rather than enabling Yoongi into wrong directions. And there are many of those, his mental health can tell you a thing or two about it. He begins to get that you really know what you’re doing and are in it for the real him which makes him feel really loved far underneath all surfaces and images. You accept his fame and admire his work with music which is what he’s truly doing it for but also don’t forget that the most vulnerable Yoongi is the one that you’re there for and not a facade.

NSFW

I know you’re curious. That Yoongi’s sexual style is more than just interesting goes without saying. To give you an idea. Anything steamy with Yoongi means him taking his time. You know, for making it quality. Yoongi wants to grow into the right balance of activity and staying relaxed. He is good at keeping cool and bringing some focus to the madness. He wants to figure out how to be more casual instead of tense and overly preoccupied which he’ll be at the start of the relationship. But the fast learner he is, his nervousness fades way faster than you think. 

Yoongi is extremely afraid that he can’t please you or starts to become awkward slash clueless so he darts to the opposite of the spectrum and overperforms, even plays a character. You have enough cool yourself to tell him what to do in the pace that works best. That he stays centered in his body is important for you to teach him. When he gets grounded and juggling his confidence is out of the equation, he fucks the best.

His favorite position besides giving oral — with you on your back — will be doggy style. Man, we gotta talk about that. Slow to upper moderate pace, nothing too all over the place. Yoongi moans very slowly, too, all drawn out. Get ready for a frequent session of some anal to unwind. You heard that right. First, Yoongi will get the two of you into the right rhythm with his hands at the sides of your waist, then, ride it out in slow mo with his right hand properly stimulating you from the front. 

By habit, he will add some lube here and there but not use insanely dripping amounts so everything gets messy or he can’t touch you without sliding off anymore. Just enough to slide well. Yoongi is so good at this I swear, it’ll be your favorite thing to relax. He has the restraint and technique to pull it off rather than pulling out, huh. Yoongi is gonna stay inside you for ages. It feels like he’s massaging every spot for some extra time. It’s amazing to slack off your muscles, cool off, and get many a gentle but fulfilling orgasm. 

He’s not gonna put you through the hassle of dealing with an anal creampie cleanup so he keeps it wrapped, and mostly focuses on your movements altogether while keeping his own climax smooth and more relieving rather than something that relentlessly knocks him out in one go. Yoongi is good at observing and doesn’t feel the need to chase a violent high which is why he is so great at sex. Fucking with Yoongi leaves a wholesome feeling and you never feel ashamed or guilty, or a sense of being dirty and ruined. 

He enjoys having sex to make you feel really good and works his hands on you very respectfully. His goal is to have you wet and pulsing after a long while of getting you there, and putting you to a good night’s sleep. He’d feel terrible if he left you sore or disturbed. He is really passionate, especially with his kisses or when you ask him to slide into very deeply, but Yoongi being brash and controlling is an image out of sight.

Besides giving you the number one heavenly assfucks, Yoongi also likes to work his tongue as we know, and he’ll work it all over. Few body parts of yours have not made contact with that glorious mouth and I say that in the best of ways. You can instruct him to do whatever, Yoongi obliges with radiant joy. And here again, he takes minutes upon minutes. Kissing and kissing and licking and maybe even teasing once or twice to make you smile. You know, a little signature wink. Honoring your skin and every shape is not something that Yoongi has to talk about, he will physically show it and I swear it’ll finally get into your head with every little move, Yoongi has totally surrendered his tongue to your body and worships it.

[peakascum]

On the Edge of Eden

@slither-in-a-half​ hope you like this love! 

Click for song inspo! Moodboard?

His eyes traced your figure in a manner that could only be interpreted as boyish. His ears turned red, voice stammering with a little treble at the end, and his feet moved as if he were a newborn foal. He lacked confidence, his posture told you so- but could you blame the kid? You carried yourself with a graceful stance as if each wave and step were predetermined with consciousness and care. You were the talk of the gala, the name that slipped during tea time, the whispers that made it to the dirtiest corners of Small Heath. The youngest of the family, as was he. Common ground, he thought.

His feet carried him across the room, arms missing his aunt’s fingers by an inch and his brother’s angry whispers for him to stay put. They wouldn't care in a second, they would go back to their champagne and pretend that new money could buy them class and a new identity. He didn't think so or even care, not really; in fact, he didn't even try to hide his brummie accent or pretend to know which fork to use during dinner, even John struggled with that. 

Your eyes had been trained on him for a while, being there to catch his missteps and the occasional excessive laugh he’d hand out before the punchline was delivered. You too were conditioned to laugh at such jokes. At the meaningless banter that resonated through parties between nobles and esteemed families who had always looked down upon new money, like the Shelbys, which set the tone for your dislike towards your kin. Your mother groomed you to be a proper lady, bred to breed the finest that England had to offer in order to purify your name and- what else? How vain. 

The littlest Shelby had stammered his way through the entirety of the gala and held improper posture, which would only, and exclusively, be rectified when you tossed a wink or a silly face in his direction. It entirely went by his family’s head, but you did receive a proper kick to the shin from yours. It was just silly banter and perhaps a tad entertaining, much to his dismay, not in a way that would embarrass him completely, but just enough to taint his cheeks and further earn a glare from his siblings. 

The sillines, although flustered him, spoke volumes as to who hid beneath the expensive jewels and stoic expression. A girl, just a girl, who was anything but proper in the most intriguing and tasteful way. And it was in that utter lack of propriety that ignited a fire in his new dress shoes and sent him treading in your direction. 

He swiped two glasses from a nearby table and situated himself beside you. With a confident smirk he thrusted the glass in your direction, only slightly coating the floor beneath you, “A lady such as yourself shouldn't be drinking alone.” 

“A lady wasn’t, you just offered me a glass.” Your brow quirked in his direction.

“Y-yes, you seemed- thirsty. Had two in hand and you, glassless, appeared- uh-“

Your grin widened and brows shot up to your hairline, “-Unsatisfied?”

“I was going to suggest bored, but unsatisfied works too.”

 You giggled and took the glass from his hand, fingers grazing his smooth ones. You wondered just then how they would feel against your body and craved the touch of his fingertips, even just the the single caress of the tips, to edge across your face, to underline the blemishes that made up your young skin and maybe even leave a mark or two if they pressed hard enough against your hips. 

“For someone who seems to have it all, ‘unsatisfied’ is an odd word to use.”

“How so?”

“You're dripping in diamonds and you seem to walk as if you’d ‘ave a gun to your head.” He said it mindlessly, unbothered even, by the mere thought that you would immediately leave after such a remark. That’s why he detested these things. Upper class women seemed to be put off by talks of guns and mud. 

“Correct,” you hummed, “or a stick right up my arse.” His eyes darted to your face and then everywhere else to see if they heard. You just scanned the room. “My blood is blue and I shit diamonds, Mr. Shelby, doesn't mean I’m happy, or content, or-“

“-or satisfied.” He finished for you, staring intently at your profile. A small smile etched itself on your lips, “Or satisfied.”

“I’m Finn,” he said thrusting his hand in your direction, “Mr. Shelby is my brother.”

“Which one?”

“All- but really the one who does seem to have a whole tree branch up his arse.” This earned a whole hearted laugh from you, prompting a small chuckle from him. He made you laugh, genuinely. You turned in his direction and took his suspended hand in yours, and shook his hand with all the seriousness you could muster. 

“Well Finnegan Shelby it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now, how about we drop this act, ditch the snobs and you show me how Small Heath does it.”

You welcomed the cold slapping of the wind as you would a warm hug. For a second, stillness and crickets. For a second, wires turned in question as to where should you go from here. Glancing towards his moonlit face you let out a heavy breath and hastily took your heals off, making you a couple of inches shorter than you already were. Finn offered you his arm for balance as the other clutched a whisky bottle he managed to snatch from the bar. With heals in hand, you raced through the filled and into the night. 

The skip in your step created a soothing rhythm with the howling wind, a melody you could get used to, one you prayed would come as often as life would allow it.

You lay on the ground surrounded by ramsons that had just started to bloom as Finn sat by your side, bending down ever so slightly to better view your features. Your hands nervously touched the diamond clad necklace that adorned your neck as you felt his eyes scan yours. For a girl whose entire life was spent under attentive eyes, his were the only ones to bring a jolt to your chest and an exuberant vitality to your entire being. 

“Watchful eyes you’ve got there.” His gaze shifted a little, as they did whenever you caught him watching.

“I can’t help myself.”

You cocked your head to the side and eyed him steadily, “Are you staring at my diamonds, Shelby? How pretty they shine under this light?”

“Shining rocks got nothing on you, love.”

“How flattering.” You scoffed. 

“You sound offended.”

“I despise lies, half truths. Men think that’s all that women want to hear. And some do, some eat it up and out of their hands as if they could never eat from their own.”

“You seem to take great interest in other’s concerns,” he said as you shook your head, “in matters and thoughts that imply your worth”

“I care not! I- I do not. It’s just a pity women are eyed like cattle and assumed to be foolish and of fallen grace!” You said, now agitated. Finn fancied the dark glow that came from your eyes, knowing he hit a nerve. You sat upright unlocking the necklace’s  hatch at the back of your neck. The rocks hit the limestone floor with a small thud no louder than that of a bird’s wings, and created a shimmering glare that adorned your face like small, expensive teardrops. 

“Your fit won’t change my mind if that’s what you're aiming at,” he provoked. You stood up with furrowed brows and hastily undid the back of your dress. His posture remained stoic but eyes widened in concern of your hurried movements. 

“What’s the matter Finn, aren’t women more rabid than men?” You chuckled as the dress slid  under the curve of your breasts, past your belly, and further pooled by your shoeless feet. Finn visibly gulped at the sight of your body in the delicate, silk slip. You stood proudly like a painting, a muse, waiting to be challenged and admired for his eyes, and only his. 

His head turned towards the house, which was only a dot in the mere distance, swallowed by music and acres of field. You stepped towards him towering over his sitting frame, took his hands in yours and placed them on your thighs, just below the seam of the slip. His cheeks turned a deep crimson that reminded you of the red pygmies that swam in the pond near your feet. ���Suddenly at a loss for words, Shelby?”

He got up clumsily and towered over your body. Hands blended together in a pool of questions that should not and could not be answered with words, but with the mere touch of light grazes against his skin. How did he ever muster the courage to approach such a creature full of such beauty, whose aggressive approach to life had to be masked by the authoritarian glare of wealth and class. 

He knew where this was headed by your hurried kisses and the race of both hands. He halted your movements causing you to peer at him in a daze. “It’s not a race Y/N,” he said in a hushed manner.

“What’s the difference? You want me, you'll have me, and then leave,” you spat. 

“I want you, I’ll have you, and I’ll be back for more of you,” he paused to kiss your swollen lips, “for this,” he traced his lips over her breasts, “for more nights,” lips trailed to your belly, “no champagne, no diamonds. Just give up control, for once.” 

Your head tilted back as he nuzzled his head between your legs. His hands grazed the curves of your thighs while the wind nipped at your cheeks and flowers tickled your shins. The stars winked as the sky seemed to open up, all witnessing the spectacle that was just commencing. An exciting origin to an undoubtedly sublime love story. 

His soft fingers gripped your leg as he swung it over his shoulder, just as you imagined when you first accepted the glass in your empty glassless ones. 

Your sighs of pleasure mixed with his groans as he savored your juices, drinking you up like expensive cabernet. His tongue grazing the inside of your walls, kissing and nipping your bundle of pleasure, humming at your whines and muttering small praises full of lust and adoration. A garden of sinful pleasure built for the two.

*BONUS SCENE*

In the distance Tommy and Arthur stepped out into the balcony to get some air, the room suddenly seeming stuffed with snobs and meaningless conversation. They shared a cigarette and nursed their drinks, for a moment appreciating the quietness that spring brought every year. As Tommy dragged on about titles and politics, Arthur fixed his eyes in the distance, squinting and questioning if his mind was finally going mad. 

“Tom?” He stuttered. His brother held a hand up, “I know it’s the same shit with Mosely. Like a fuckin’ riddle-“

“Tom,” Arthur interrupted again, eyes widening as he stared at the distance. 

“No, it is! But if we ever catch-“

“Jesus fuck Tom, shut the hell up ‘bout the coppers and the bloody earls!” He said agitated. Tommy swirled his head to look at his brother’s rigid body. Arthur pointed into the distance, “There, Tom. There. By the tree, over the pond.”

Tommy followed his finger, having to squint his eyes to see the clear image.

“Fucken’ hell is that-“

“Fucken’ Finn!” Arthur cackled, choking on his own spit in the process. 

Tommy’s jaw slacked in complete and utter shock, “This fuckin’ kid I swear to God,” he muttered under his breath. Brow furrowing as his eyes scanned the property, suddenly worried that his brother’s laughter would attract attention to the scene that unfolded before them in the mere distance. “All right, all right Arthur- fuck,” he said as a small smirk formed on his stoic face. 

“Tom I can’t breath, I mean this is-“ Arthur howled, “this is almost fuckin’ biblical!”

“Arthur shh, okay okay just don’t-“

“Fuckin’ Adam and Eve shit Tom!”

[moonyblackwerewolf]

The Letter Ch. 3 - Sirius Black

Betrothed Ch. 3

Sirius Black x fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: Sirius and Y/N meet at a family dinner and have some fun, later she finds out she is betrothed to some pureblood boy so Sirius comes up with a mental idea to save them both.

Warnings: Kissing, hints of sex, 'aggressive' parents, underage drinking, idk my writing and English? lol

a/n: I don't really know how i feel about this, so i hope you guys like it. Feedback is always welcome too :)

Xxxx

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch. 2.5 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch. 5 

The exams were now over, Y/N and Lily were at the Great Hall eating breakfast, the smell of bacon and fruits invading their noses, they could enjoy the morning Saturday sun and the pancakes without worrying about the exams.

“What did you think about the Potions test? I can’t stop thinking about that last question I think got it wrong” Lily mumbled while picking up an apple.

“Oh Lils, you are so cute” Y/N laughed at her friend’s worries. “I can’t remember, but we can go to library today and check, but I’m sure you got it right, Slughorn has his reasons for inventing you for his little club” Y/N/N pointed out and Lily nodded, while looking at her sister who was staring suspiciously at her “At least you got in for pure talent, not because he wanted to suck up to your father” she chuckled, trying to avoid her sister’s gaze.

“That’s a lie, you’re one of the best Potions student Y/N/N i’m sure you-” Lily was cut off by Diana standing by her sister’s side.

“Got your mail yet Y/N/N? I’m so delighted for you, when Mother and Father told me I started planning the party already, Slytherin common room Sunday 8 p.m, also if you need help getting your hair done you can ask me.” Y/N was scared, her sister was never this nice to her, something was going on.

“Why Sunday?” But she was interrupted.

As if Diana knew when the letter would arrive, an Elegant snowy owl showed up carrying a letter from her parents. “What’s that” she was now genuinely scared as she saw Lucius looking at her from the Slytherin table. Lily who has calmed her down on several sleepless nights after the Malfoy incident looked between the two girl worried, connecting the dots about the letter’s content, as her friend read the letter and stormed out of the Hall. Lily tried to follow her but she just vanished. She looked for Y/N everywhere but she seemed to be nowhere to be found, she was feeling scared and even desperate, what could’ve made Y/N so upset, her family of course, but what did they do?

Y/N was in the only place in the castle Lily didn’t look for, the Hufflepuff common room, her friend Amos Diggory, a handsome boy, who would was loyal and would do anything for his friends, let her in and stay in his room, since it was Saturday and everyone was outside. She laid in his bed, heart racing threatening to jump off her chest, she felt sick and completely and utterly alone and unloved, she felt stuck in a life she never asked for and an inevitable future, this feeling of despair was too much for her to hold, like she would always do. Y/N buried her faced in Amos’ pillow and cries the life out of her, she couldn’t believe and in the same time she always knew this would happen, but it didn’t make it all less painful.

“Hi” Amos knocked on the room’s door delicately earning a jump from the girl. “I’m sorry, but you seem like someone who desperately needs a friend” he said with a sympathetic smile.

She smiled warmly at the boy and let him sit by her side, he offered her his shoulder to cry on, soothing the girl, even though he didn’t know why she was so sad. Eventually she told him everything and he was as disgusted as she was, his heart ached for his friend, he couldn’t imagine what was like to have her parents and go through what she was. He could only help.

“You should go tell your friends, they never leave your side, they’ll probably want to know about this, you should trust them Y/N/N” he suggested with a reassuring smile, wrapping her in a hug. Y/N loved that on Amos, he was so sweet and helpful and never asked for anything in return, he was a true Hufflepuff, she always teased him.

“But I don’t want them to worry, it’s not really easy for me to trust people and it’s nothing really, I don’t want to be dramatic” she sighed looking troubled.

“Y/N/N, i can assure you, you’re not being dramatic” he paused looking at her with a concerned smile “You have all the right to be upset, i’d be too in your situation, i’d demand justice for me and the other person too, it’s not fair, but you should tell your friends, they must be really worried”

“You’re right badger, thank you for letting me stay here, if you ever need something you know where to find me” she mumbled quietly still trying to hold her tears desperately.

It was nighttime by the time she was heading to the Gryffindor tower. The marauders were at the empty Gryffindor common room, they had just finished packing and were siting by the fireplace talking, Lily looking worried whispering to herself places she might’ve forgotten to search, when y/n entered the room the girl stood up fast and wrapped her in the tightest hug she could give only letting her friend go after her arms became sore, y/n mumbled a thank you hugging Lily again and then gave Sirius a kiss on the cheek and laid on his chest, she was looking completely broken, that made the boys get concerned too. 

“Hey guys” she said with voice of someone who has been crying. Sirius started caressing her hair, the group was now completely quiet until.

“Y/n-” Remus Lupin said softly “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?” His question made everyone look at her and she shifted in her Sirius lap a bit, his hands still caressing her hair patiently waiting for her answer, Lily was sitting next to them in the sofa, she grabbed her friend’s hand reassuringly.

“I got this letter from my parents today- at breakfast” she said, her voice completely numb she sounded like someone who had abandoned all hope. She then took  a letter with a fancy wax seal with an “W” from her coat, she couldn’t say it so she handed it to Sirius. The seal was already broken from when she read it earlier and the parchment had stains that suggested crying, he started reading the letter, Lily peaking too, while the other boys were curious and he’s blood was boiling with anger.

He stood up abruptly and screamed “No way they're making you do this- Over my dead body, Y/n”. Sirius’ reaction startled the boys, but he was so angry he didn’t even notice James taking the letter and reading it aloud.

Dear Y/n,

Your father and i are delighted to inform you that after a few meetings with family friends, we have decided, together with the Malfoys, that you and their son, Lucius, are now engaged and the marriage will happen soon after your graduation.

Lucius has already talked with his parents and he is more than happy for taking your hand in matrimony if you accept him, in our meeting with Abraxas Malfoy this evening, he has told us how Lucius cares about and wants to protect you. Therefore we were shocked to hear that you’ve been spending many nights in the Gryffindor tower and been ignoring your fellow housemates including Lucius.

In light of theses events we’ve decided that you will be spending Christmas break in the Malfoy manor, so you and Lucius can seal each other’s promise contract and get used to each other and future married life.

Now Y/n, you are going to listen very carefully what i’m going to tell you, young lady, you are going to behave AND accept this proposal, the Malfoys are a very respectful pureblood family, they were extremely delighted to know about your interest in their son. The Watson name carries weight in our world, I don’t want you doing anything that could compromise that. Now you are going to sleep every night of the rest of your years at Hogwarts in the Slytherin dorms, we already talked with Lucius and he is going to stay with you the whole night if necessary.

With Love,

Charles Edward Watson and Louise Helena Watson

“Holy shit y/n/n” James gasped “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe your parents would do that” he paused pondering if he should joke or not, and figured it could help “but is that their way of making you shag Malfoy?, Godric they’ don’t even try to be subtle” y/n chuckled humourlessly.

“Really? because I do, that’s what all these crazy purists families do, they breed their children, they don’t care about love or anything of the sort, I can’t believe how much time I spent putting up with their shit, pretending to agree with them” she hissed starting to sound more angry, she couldn’t believe it herself she just couldn't admit.

“Y/n we won’t let that happen” Remus reassured her grabbing other her hand “we’ll do anything to help you” all the boys and Lily agreed, except for Sirius that was on a weird kind of angry trance. Lily jumped from her seat and hugged her best friend with all the love she could give again.

She was happy to see her friends helping her, she didn’t feel as alone as she felt this morning, but still, reality was rough, she’d have to marry that prick Lucius Malfoy that she and the Marauders hated so much, he was a real blood purist just like their parents and that made her feel suffocated.

Suddenly Sirius burst out of his trance and went to his dorm, which scared the remaining group on the common room, making Y/n follow him. The common room went silent. After she left they sighed “I can’t believe she’s having to go through that, she doesn’t deserve it, this year she’s been nothing but a good friend, she even helped you study Moony and she became your best friend Lily, we all know you talk about us when you’re alone” James sighed “I wish we could do something for her”.

“Yes, we sure do Potter” Lily shrugged a bit absentmindedly, wondering what was happening in the other room.

“Siri, what’s going on with you?” She asked a bit startled by his sudden weirdness, while standing in the threshold. He was searching for something frenetically in his trunk. “What are you searching for Sirius?” 

“Y/n/n- Y/n” he turned to her seriously “there’s no way i’m letting you marry Malfoy” he stared so deep into her eyes that she felt a shiver run down her spine. 

“Thanks you Sirius, I love you for that, but there's nothing me or you can do to help, believe me i’ve been trying to find a way out since i read that letter, but there isn’t” she sighed her voice cracking “All I can do is enjoy the little time i’ve left before i’m Mrs. Malfoy” she ran her hand in her face and looked at Sirius “But I appreciate your efforts” Sirius made his way to where she was and caressed her cheeks looking at her with a determination Y/n couldn’t understand.

“I’m going to do everything i can to help you- even if I’ll have ask my monster of a mother for help” he revealed.

“What?” She gasped, surprised and confused at his revelation to say the least.

“I hate to say it out loud but- I’m still a Black, from the Noble house of Black” He paused and Y/n began to catch up with his plan, still a little shocked “I bet it’ll be easy to convince my mom, if i Sirius Black, her hopeless case of a son, tell her he wants to marry Elena Watson the daughter of the Royal house of Watson, she would finally be at least pleased with me” 

“WHAT?! No way Sirius, no- no! absolutely not” she almost choked on her words, shock written all over her face. “I’m not letting you ruin your life for me! No way! Do you even know what you’d be doing? You’d be committing yourself for the rest of your life and you know your parents AND mine wouldn’t let us divorce till the day they die at least! There is no going back and they certainly won’t let us escape, never” She was not going to let him ruin his life too.

“I know that perfectly well, but would it be that bad? we’re best friends and it’s not like we never slept together before” Y/n was in shock, left without words, Sirius Black wanting to commit with someone, he truly was a good friend but she looked at him with a gaze that said ‘no’ “Y/n… if you don’t accept this, then i’ll help you escape” he grabbed her hand and held it tightly in his chest, for a moment he wondered what about it made him feel so angry, angrier than the other boys, he felt this urge to protect her so much it almost hurt “I- just- i can’t stand seeing you suffering from this and being forced to sleep in the same bed as Malfoy- it makes me so angry, i want to protect you- I promised I would protect you, you’ve became one of my best friends this year I can’t let you go through this” he was looking at her with desperate eyes, almost imploring her to let him help her, it made Y/n’s heart jump from her chest.

“I don’t know what to do Sirius” her eyes were filling up with tears again, she was trying hard not to cry, as a wave of courage hit her and made her stop, she needed to grow up. “But I can’t escape my home, my parents would find me and probably-” she paused reconsidering if telling Sirius about her parents’ ways of parenting was a good idea, remembering Amos’ words, but even though she decided against it, she didn’t want him to worry more then he already was “I’m going to be okay, everything’s going to be fine. I’m going home and i’ll tell my parents that i won’t oblige, that I won’t be a pawn on their sick game of blood purity” she finished, more determined than she had been during the day, knowing that it’d be a foolish mistake, but it was confrontation or marriage.

“Are you sure Y/n? You want me to go with you?” He asked concerned, not feeling confident in her idea, it seemed dangerous and reckless, normally he’d love a little danger, but the fact that she could get hurt made him opposed to it.

“Yes, you don’t need to come with me, I think its better if I go alone, my parents can get- irritated. I’ll send you letters and i’ll keep you updated i promise” with that she kissed his cheek.

“Y/n/n are you really sure? I don’t think it’s- I don’t know your parents but I know mine and they wouldn’t react really well if I confronted them that way” Y/n knew what Sirius meant, but she had to try, so she whispered a yes burying her head in his neck as he wrapped her in a tight hug.

They both returned to the common room, updating their friends about what had happened and then they tried to have a pleasant last day at Hogwarts, the boys reassured Y/n even more and promised they’d be there for her if she ever needs them. The rest of the day they tried to forget all of their problems and talked, James kept trying to invite Lily out and she kept saying no while everyone laughed at the boy, Y/n laid in Sirius’s chest enjoying this little interactions while she still could. Sirius’ plan never left the back of his mind, he wasn’t sure if she’d be able to convince the Watsons, they didn’t strike him as understanding people. Little did he know how right he was.

The next day went by fast, everyone finished packing and met at the train station. The group left the Hogwarts Express and entered platform 9 3/4 everyone said their goodbyes, hugging and wishing Y/n worried good lucks, then heading to their respective families.

“I wish you could meet my family, Y/n/n, expect my sister, she’d be mean to you” Lily pouted as Y/n hugged her tightly for the last time in two weeks. “I’m gonna write you ok? with the names we planned” the both best friends chuckled, they had created nicknames so Y/n’s parents wouldn’t suspect about Lily.

“Oh Lils thank you, I’m gonna miss you so much, wish you could visit me” Y/n whispered sadly leaving Lily’s embrace after she said she would miss her too, heading to Sirius.

“Hey beautiful” Sirius murmured while wrapping her in a hug and lifting her making her laugh. “Wanna meet mommy and daddy Black, they’ll love you?” 

“Of course” she chuckled in his lap, being so close to him made her heart jump faster, she didn’t want to let go, never “And of course they will, how could they not like me” she joked.

Sirius put her in the ground slowly, heart jumping too, grabbed her wrist and the two of them walked to where his parents and brother were waiting, he hated his parents but he wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. “Mother, Father, this is Y/n Watson” he mocked his parents, who were clearly shocked their son had perhaps grown some sense into his head.

“Miss Watson, what a pleasure to see you again, darling, how are your parents doing?” Mr. and Mrs. Black asked politely. Walburga was a tall raven haired woman with an elegant appearance and stern face, she was quite scary, Mr. Black looked just like his wife but older and more serious.

“Suck ups” Sirius whispered in her ears making her giggle, she could feel his breath against her ear and it made her shiver.

“They’re alright, thank you Mr. Black, how are you?” Y/n asked, looking so much like her mother that it scared Sirius, he had to hide his laugh.

Before Mr. Black answered, Mr. and Mrs. Watson showed up, with angry faces. Mrs. Watson grabbed Y/n’s wrist strongly making her wince, pushing her to their side.

“Walburga, Orion, what a pleasure to see you” Mr. Watson offered his hand to the couple, softening his face a little, Mrs. Watson smiled, while whispering.

“Y/n, where is Lucius? Haven’t you been seeing him? You should be here with him young lady” her mother hissed at her, angry with the lack of effort from her daughter to make the marriage happen.

Sirius looked at Y/n’s wrist and suspected, he felt angry at Mrs. Watson, something was wrong, but he couldn’t do anything in front of their parents, so he just looked reassuringly at her.

“Pleasure to see you too Charles, we hope to see you and Louise at the Rosiers later this week” Mrs. Black politely suggested.

“Of course” with that the Watsons said goodbye and the both families headed their separate ways, breaking Sirius’ and Y/n’s grasp on each other.

[bored-mumma]

MASTERLIST

TITLE: The bad guy

CHAPTER NO/ONE SHOT: One shot

WORD COUNT: 1673

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Requested

NOTES/WARNINGS: Swearing. Verbal abuse (tried not doing too much). Manipulation. Toxic relationship. Domestic abuse. Boyfriend is called Chris but isn’t based on any actor. Leave that to your imagination. 

scorpionchild81  -  Hi - wondering if you would write a Tom Hiddleston x friend reader, how Toms reaction/response to her abusive boyfriend would be - maybe not in a physical way, but more verbally abusive (rude, sniffy remarks/comments and other disrespecting behavior) yes, I have been a victim to this and was stupid enough accepting it for a very long time... 

Tom sat on the edge of his bed, slipping off his shoes as he pressed his phone between his ear and shoulder, waiting for your answer. 

“Hello.” Tom smiled a little as he heard your voice finally come through. 

“Hi,” He replied, “Fancy a takeaway tonight?” Tom heard you shuffling around, a little sigh coming from you. 

“No thank you.” Was all you said in a much quieter voice than usual. Tom's face fell slightly, instantly knowing somethings wrong. 

“You ok?” He asked

“Always am.” You said, a small amount of sarcasm coming through your tone. “I’ll see you later.” Tom opened his mouth to reply, but you had already hung up the phone. 

For the last few weeks, you had seemed completely off with him. Barely taking his calls, never replying to his messages and cancelling the plans you two had already made. Tom knew his best friend though. He knew you wouldn’t tell him what was wrong even if he was on his hands and knees begging you. You were too stubborn for that. So instead, Tom slipped back on his shoes and stood to pull on his jacket. If you weren’t going to tell him what’s wrong, the least he could do was try and make you feel a little better. Besides, he missed you. 

Tom knocked on your door with one hand, the other holding a bag with pizza, chocolate and some beer in it. He waited patiently for you to answer but when you didn’t he pulled out his keys - you both have a spare set for the others apartment in case of emergencies. He knocked again before opening the door in case you didn’t hear the first time. 

“You know, when someone doesn’t answer, it tends to mean go away.” He heard your voice coming from somewhere in the dark room. Reaching over, he turned on the lamp. You were lying on the sofa, phone in hand, eyes a little red from staring at the screen and wearing some tatty old pyjamas. Tom didn’t say a word. Instead, he walked over, placing the bag on the coffee table and pulled out a beer. Handing it to you, he sat next to you and let out a small sigh. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or are we just going to pretend you haven’t been acting very unlike yourself for the past month or so,” Tom said gently, looking over at you. You were yet to make eye contact with him. Instead of replying, you took a sip of your beer. “I can’t promise I can make it better but I can promise I’ll try too.” You looked over at him at last, seeing the concern in his eyes. You contemplated for a moment before speaking. 

“You really shouldn’t be here.” You stood, taking the bag of food and hanging it back to Tom. “You should go.” Tom didn’t move, only looked up at you with a frown. “Chris will go ballistic if he finds out your here.” You said with a little more desperation. 

“What do you mean go ballistic?” Tom tilted his head, finally getting something out of you. 

“I mean he’ll flip Tom!” You held out your hand for Tom to take so you can get him to stand from the sofa and leave, but he wouldn’t take it. 

“Talk to me, Y/N,” Tom said softly. You looked around the room, almost as if trying to find anything else to talk about. You bit your tongue slightly, trying to rack your brain with what to say. 

“I mean,” You started slowly. “He doesn’t like it when I have men over my house late at night without his permission-”

“You need permission to have dinner with your best friend?”

“When that friend is a man, yes!” Tom shook his head in slight disbelief. “Look, I’m tired of being blamed for stuff constantly by him. It’s just easier if i-”

“Blamed for what?” Tom stood now, feeling his blood start to boil. But before you could reply, you both heard a key in the door turning. Your heart sank, realisation hitting you at how close you and Tom are standing. You quickly jumped back and Tom noticed. Walking in, Chris looked between the two of you, eyes landing on the alcohol sat on the table. 

“Having a party are we?” He said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Wish I got an invite.”

“I only had a sip-”

“I didn’t ask.” Chris interrupted you. Tom looked between the two of you, noticing how your aura had changed drastically now. It’s now one filled with worry and like it’s permanently on edge. “Get out.” Chris pointed to Tom, not even trying to hide the look of displeasure on his head. “I thought I made myself clear?” Chris said, turning his attention back to you. “I told you how I feel about this, why would you go against that?” He slowly started to walk towards the two of you. “I told you I don’t like it. I told you seeing you with other men makes me feel like shit, so why would you do it?” You opened your mouth to talk but no words came out. “Does it make you feel good about yourself? Huh? Whoring about? Does it make you feel pretty? Attractive? Well, news flash baby you’re-”

“That’s enough!” Tom snapped at Chris, rage started to edge up into his body as he listened. You had mentioned a few months ago how you had started to see someone called Chris, but he never knew it was this guy. He certainly never knew this was the kind of men you were getting stuck with. He thought it was weird when you didn’t want you boyfriend and best friend to meet, but now he understood.  “I think we should go.” Tom turned to you but you were rooted to the spot/ 

“Yeah, go with your lover.” Chris let out a dry laugh, making shivers go up to your spine. “How insecure does a woman have to be to fuck a new guy every night?” Chris’ voice was getting louder now. 

“That’s not true.” You said, voice so small it was barely above a whisper. 

“What was that, darling?” Chris said in a mocking tone. “Speak up dear, neither of your boyfriends can hear you.” You opened your mouth to speak again but Tom got there first. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re an asshole,” Tom said, more to himself than to Chris. “This is how you treat a lady?” 

“No, this is how I treat Y/N. There is no lady in this house.” Tom chewed on his cheek so he wouldn’t start yelling at this absolute prick stood in front of him. Instead, he took off his jacket and handed it to you. 

“Put it on, we’re leaving.” He said. You hesitated, but seeing the look on Toms face made you realise he wasn’t going to go home without you. Slipping the jacket on your shoulders, Chris laughed dryly again. “Excuse us,” Tom said, almost mocking Chris with his politeness. 

“You’re not leaving me,” Chris boomed. You flinched slightly at his words. Chris had never laid a hand on you and you highly doubt he ever would, but that doesn't mean he couldn’t beat you emotionally. You had tried to reach out before, to try and leave him. But he had threatened to drive his car into a lake with himself trapped inside. You were too deep into this abusive relationship to see how that was a controlling lie to get you to stay. However, in fear of Chris’ safety, you stayed. Now and again you would want to leave, be tempted to reach out to friends and family but Chris would turn again. He would be the kindest of men for a week or so. Would adore you, worship the ground you walk on, buy you beautiful gifts. Of course, once those few weeks were over, back came the abuse. - the name-calling. The picking on your appearance. The constant accusations of cheating. Chris was a master manipulator. He knew how to make you stay with him. But Tom wasn’t falling for any of it. ”You remember what I said right? I’ll do it.” Chris yelled, dangling his car keys in front of you. “I’ll fucking do it Y/N.”

“Walk.” Tom took your wrist gently, making you walk in front of him but so Tom was still stood between you and Chris. “Don’t say anything just walk.”

“You think you can find someone better than me? Guess what, you can’t. You’re a whore-”

“If you come within two miles of my home, I’m calling the police,” Tom said almost too calmly, nearly pushing you out the door and slamming it behind him. He kept his hand on your wrist as he walked you towards his car. No words were exchanged. None were needed. 

You slid into the passenger seat, head resting against the window. You felt like you wanted to cry. You felt the heavy feeling in your chest and how your body ached, fighting for so long to just stay strong. You had convinced yourself that Chris will get better. That one day, he’ll be that good boyfriend again. But you were so sick of pretending. 

“You deserve better than that,” Tom said softly. You didn’t reply, just stared out the window. The thing with narcissists like Chris, they make themselves seem like the victim. And you were feeling like the bad guy.

Authors note: Obviously you’re not the bad guy but i felt like that since that;s the way narcissists tend to make their victims feel that it would be an appropriate way to end it. 

ALSO! If you’re experiencing any type of abuse, please please reach out. Abuse isn’t just physical.

[delaber]

Just Friends (Part 3)

Story Summary: After moving to America for a 3-month long internship, you meet two interesting characters on a boring night out.

Word Count: 2.2K

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, minor drug use, smut, slight dom!Rafa, swearing, and loads of British references (sorry not sorry lol).

Chapter Note: let me know what you think

Tag List:  lonelydance mysearchforgratification

Other Parts: See Masterlist

FIVE WEEKS LATER

With the amount of work you had had in the lab in December, five weeks passed by easily, and before you could truly process what had become of time, you had spent your first Christmas ever away from England.

Still, even though five weeks had passed by, you caught yourself thinking about this guy, this Rafa, annoyingly often. 

You couldn't believe that you had fallen for (what you assumed were) his regular normie cad tricks: He had talked you up, walked you home, made you feel special, and then he hadn't given you any sign of life since then - and now the complete lack of contact was driving you insane! You knew that he was only interested in the shag, and so were you to be honest, but it still annoyed you immensely that the mere thought of him roughing you up had taken over most of your thoughts.

As if Rafa was a professional womaniser, it had only taken him a couple of hours and an obnoxious fuck boy-attitude to etch himself into your brain. And five weeks later, he was still on your mind?! What was going on with you? If you'd only invited him inside to boff back then, he probably wouldn't even have been the least bit interesting here five weeks later.

Thus, irritated with yourself and your flair for the dramatic, you often cursed yourself for having left him on the pavement that night back in November. On the night in question, however, the need to stand up to his spoiled attitude had been stronger than the urge to let him win and shag him senseless - and as a result, you often found yourself fantasising about him when you lay in bed at night. So in a way, he had won anyway.

And you hated it. You hated that he had somehow gotten to you. The way he had acted around you had made you aware that this boy was an avid smooth talker who was probably used to get whatever and whomever he wanted by any means necessary.

And you were having none of it. Forgetting about him was definitely for the best. You needed someone to knock the naughty thoughts of him out of your mind. By any means necessary.

You had never really cared much for New Years Eve, but this year, you found yourself in the right spirit for the first time ever. You had changed into the most form-fitting, festive dress you owned in the hopes of meeting a cute guy with whom you could spend the night. A guy who could knock the last thoughts of Rafa out of your head.

In the mood for an eventful evening, you had showed up for Miranda's all-girls pre-party right on time, tagging your roommate Samantha along with you. The first part of the evening passed by quickly; you had loads of champagne and ate a fancy dinner at Miranda's place surrounded by all of her best friends and some of your colleagues from the Hospital. You had all clinked to the new year as the date shifted to January 1st and you soon found yourself in a taxi on the way to an exclusive party downtown that Miranda's friend had secured you all tickets for. Big, fancy parties like this wasn't normally your scene, but you could make an exception for tonight. It was New Years, after all.

You had arrived at the club, had had a few drinks at your private table, and had even talked to some pretty cute guys, but for some reason they all bored you. At one point you found yourself cornered by a handsome - but particularly boring - gentleman when Samatha finally saved you.

"I just flirted my way to a bottle of champagne!" she squealed as she came running towards you with a magnum flask in hand.

"You did what?" you laughed at your bubbly roomie, the bore of a man by your side already forgotten.

"I just asked a random guy at the bar if he wanted to buy a table of pretty girls a drink - and the patsy did," she laughed, "not in my wildest imagination had I ever expected him actually to do it," she squealed as she twisted off the cork with a loud pop.

"So you just let the poor guy pay for it and then you ran away?" you laughed at her while holding out your glass, waiting for her to fill it.

"I reckon he did it to make me go away - I think he may have found me annoying," Samantha laughed, "He told me to take the bottle back to my friends' table and clink his glass from a distance. Look, it's him over there," she raised her glass to a guy that you recognised immediately; you would've recognised those fluffy black curls anywhere.

Rafa's friend Diggs.

When he noticed you looking at him, he too raised his glass and sent you a warm smile, silently telling you that he definitely recognised you too.

"Hey; I know that guy," you said slowly, "I met him when I'd just moved here."

"You know him?" Samantha stared at you with a sly smile, "Probably why he was so eager for me to bring the champagne back to the table instead of drinking it at the bar with him. How well do you know him if you don't mind my asking?" Samantha wriggled her eyebrows.

"Not like that," you laughed, "I only talked to him for a couple of minutes."

Samantha nudged you with her elbow, "you should go thank him."

"Yeah," you hesitated, turning away from him, "I'm honestly surprised he even recognises me."

"Well, you must've made quite the impression," Samantha was still looking at him from over your shoulder, "Oh shit, he's coming over here right now," she squealed in a whisper.

"Be cool!" you laughed before turning around, suddenly face to face with Diggs.

"Happy new year," he smiled and squinted his eyes slightly, "I think we've met before."

You nodded, reciprocating his wide smile, "we have. You're Rafa's friend," the words escaped your mouth before you could stop them.

He nodded, "...and you're Rafa's girl."

You could feel your cheeks getting warm now, "I've had like an hour long conversation with him. I would hardly refer to myself as his girl," you squinted your eyes at the handsome man in front of you.

He shrugged and laughed, "you know what I mean."

You cleared your throat, "well thanks for the champagne. You really didn't have to."

"I wanted to," he smiled, "I was hoping to catch your attention."

"Why? We've exchanged about ten words..."

"Yeah, but I'm sure Rafa would love to see you again."

"He's here?" your eyes widened. The mere thought of meeting Rafa again tonight was making your heart beat faster. You reminded yourself that you needed to keep your cool. He may be handsome and charming but he was also loud and obnoxious and a sleaze.

"We have a table in the back," Diggs nodded and pointed to an area that was cordoned off with red rope, "you should come with me."

"I don't think so," you managed to say with as much clarity as you could muster. You needed someone to help you get rid of Rafa - not indulge further in him. He was dangerous.

"Aw, come on," Diggs smiled charmingly.

"What makes you think he even wants to see me?" You tried, "as I said; I've had an hour-long conversation with him over a month ago."

"Trust me," he smiled convincingly, "I know my best friend. Are you coming or what?"

You weren't exactly sure whether it was a good idea or not. You were quite sure that if Rafa was acting just half as charming as last time, you'd be throwing yourself at him at the first chance you got and you were scared that his bad boy demeanour might lead to you wanting more even though you were going home in a couple of weeks. ..But then again, you were on the prowl for someone who could knock Rafa out of your head. Maybe actually being with him would be enough to finally close that chapter.

"Oh, she's coming!" Samantha said loudly while giving your back a small shove.

"Great!" Diggs shot you a blinding smile and stretched out his hand for you to take.

"Uhm, okay..." you said, actually glad that Samantha had made a decision for you.

As Diggs pulled you towards him, you looked back at Samantha who was looking at you with huge eyes and moving her lips without any sound, "who's Rafa?" she mouthed.

"I'll tell you later, okay?" you whispered to your friend.

Samantha tilted her head and whispered back, "well, if all of his friends are just as handsome as that guy," she nodded towards Diggs, "you're coming back for me!"

You laughed at her, "of course. I'll see you later," you said before taking Diggs' hand, following him straight through the club's dance floor and towards the closed off area.

When he reached the bouncer, he pulled up his sleeve and showed him a stamp on his wrist. "She's with me," he nodded towards you and the bouncer stepped aside, letting both of you enter the scene behind the red rope.

"Is this some sort of VIP area?" you asked Diggs as you took in the room that had been closed off to the rest of the party. The tables back here looked far more fancy and were lined with much more expensive booze than what had been available where you had been sitting only moments before.

Diggs looked at you with a weird expression, "Uh yeah..."

"It looks very expensive."

"Yeah, well..." he looked a bit uncomfortable, "we  - uh - we have a good friend who's a bit over the top with these things, but we just roll with it."

He sounded weird. Almost as if he was lying. You quickly shrugged it off, however, telling yourself that of course he was being honest; it would've been a weird thing to lie about. "Must be a good friend for you to spend this amount of money on his comfort," you mumbled as you watched a girl open up a bottle of ridiculously expensive vodka.

"Yes, well... come on," Diggs said and urged you to follow him.

You scanned the room as you tagged along Diggs, noticing several low-key famous people that you were sure were known for something semi-popular but that you couldn't quite place your finger on. You'd never really been the type to care for fame. Still, you turned to Diggs and asked, "hold up; are you famous or something?"

Diggs sent you a shrug, "...or something," he said mysteriously and pointed to a table in the far back, "our table is over there."

Slowly, you turned your gaze away from him with a feeling that you were definitely missing out on something. You followed the direction that he was pointing in and found a table lined with people. You quickly scanned their faces, eyes landing on Rafa almost immediately.

Just as you had expected, he was laughing obnoxiously loud, his Adam's apple bouncing up and down in his throat in time with his vociforous outbursts of laughter. He was wearing a dark suit and he had his blonde hair slightly slicked back, making him look particularly dark and handsome. It was pure sex.

Okay, you definitely needed to keep your cool.

He was chatting up a very attractive girl who was twirling her black hair between her fingers and smiling suggestively at him. His signature charming smile was in place as he leaned closer to her and whispered something in her ear. Whatever he was saying was definitely working as she kept touching his arm and batting her eyelashes seductively. He seemed to enjoy the attention, scooting closer and closer to the beautiful woman with each passing sentence. The sight of it made your stomach drop slightly.

You contemplated turning around and go back to Samantha before Rafa had had the chance to see you. Clearly, he was busy. You told yourself that you didn't want to be the reason why he was striking out with this girl who he was clearly trying to charm the knickers off - when in reality, you were angry with yourself; It was stupid of you to think that he actually wanted to see you when he hadn't stopped by since that night five weeks ago.

You took a step backwards to go back to Samantha but immediately felt Diggs standing behind you like a concrete wall. His palm came into contact with your back as he gave you a light shove between your shoulder blades, pushing you towards the table. "Hey Rafa!" he called out, "look who I found!"

[dumbass-mha-simp]

Hawks x Reader

This is very self indulgent tbh. Mostly gender neutral but does mention make up. Also the reader has mega family trauma cuz same.

Warnings: mentions of food, alcohol, reader is drunk but keigo is vv respectful & doesn't try anything, reader doesn't talk to their family, past family abuse, reader is kinda mean to him at first

I wrote this at like 4am and my phone is wonky and keeps autocorrecting "you" to "he" for no reason but i did like one quick pass through before posting so hopefully it's good enough, this is probably one of the first times I've actually published my fanfiction so hopefully it ain't shit,

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

For the last couple months you've been teasing him. Practically any other girl in your position would swoon in your position. But where's the fun in letting him get what he wants so quick?

Pro Hero Hawks, had seemingly everyone wrapped around his finger. With eyes pierced in deep gold and, blazing, ruby red wings, it's hard for anyone to not be attracted to him.

You stood in the back corner of a "special hero party," trying to discern if you should sneak out and do anything more interesting than standing with a bunch of other heros.

"Hello there, beautiful." A thick and sweet voice called as you turned your head to them. "Looking lonely all alone back here, let me join?" Hawks, the number two hero was offering to stand with you. Staying it is I suppose.

"I admire your work, you're really dedicated kid. I like watching your stuff." He says taking a slow sip of his drink.

"You? You watch me?" The disbelief of it rung through in sarcasm. How were you to expect someone like him watched your work. You continued sipping from your drink, even if it was a boring party there was free fancy alcohol and that's all a hero could ever need.

"I wanna see more of you, and not just on the screen or anything. I want to get to know you, you know, maybe take you out a bit, hottie." He uses his middle finger to gently lift your chin up.

"And why do you think I'd immediately just accept some date from a guy I've never even talked to?" You dryly laugh out taking another sip.

"C'mon pretty thing, you know me. Your friendly neighborhood Hawks. The hottest, and most loved person you'll ever meet."

"Ah that's what you are, the hot, amazing, charming, hero to any and all." You scoffed

"The one and only."

You spent the rest of the night either playing hard to get, or annoyed at him. You couldn't exactly tell.

This carried on for months, every event you attended, he was right there on your heels like an abandoned, clingy puppy. He's even started patrolling with you.

"Say when are you gonna quit and just accept a date dollie?" He charmed up behind you.

"I'm at work, Hawks." Your boots cracked on the wet pavement as the last bits of rain desperately clung to the air.

"Why do you play so hard to get?" He questioned in a more serious tone. He was genuinely curious about you. "Most people would kill to have me begging for them, let alone after giving me to cold shoulder so many times." You could hear the upturn in his lips as he spoke.

"Why do you happen to find me the one person worth going for?" You retorted back.

"You interest me. There's very few people I'm genuinely curious about, but one of them's you, kid." He looked up into your eyes from the street. Something you'd never thought you'd see in Hawks' eyes was sincerity over such a topic. He genuinely wanted to know you.

".........Let's just say letting people in isn't my forte." You say quickly but with a slight hint of pain. You begin to walk off again and he doesn't question. He doesn't push you to tell him why. But you could see the way he processes your words on his face.

A bar, on a Thursday night, alone. How pathetic of you. Luckily you had no work tomorrow, a big mission the week before let them cut a couple weekends longer. As you downed your refill you questioned how many you've had.

"How long have I been here?" You whispered slightly to yourself before bringing it to your lips.

The warm rush reflow through your body as you let yourself fall to it. The bartender looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"I'm cutting you off for the night." He looks earnestly at you.

"Now that's not very nice there." You laugh back at him.

You pull out your phone and attempt to call some friends but lucky enough for you, you chose a night they were all at work to recklessly get drunk in the middle of the city. The only other contact you could think of was Hawks.

There's no way he'll pick up. He's gotta be busy. I could find literally anyone else to do it. You mutter in your brain as you go into his contact and start a call.

It rings twice before his voice calls out to you. "Hey this is hawks. ... (Y/h/n), are you there?"

Okay act cool and sober. "Heeeeyyy bird." Shit.

You could practically feel his shit eating grin across the phone. "You in need of a hero babe?"

"Can you please pick me up?" A whine took over your voice. You hated being drunk in front of people like him. That soft affectionate side seems to burst its way out when the alcohol takes control.

"Tell me where you are birdie." He said as you heard some ruffling. "(Bar name idk)." You rough out tiredly.

"Be right there angel." He called before hanging up.

You put the phone down on the counter and groaned. Why him? You try so hard to make sure you don't fall for people. They always end up like the last. You feel like they stop caring once they really meet you. Like they don't want the cake after the first bite.

Used, alone, and forgotten. It's a stabbing feeling that your used to. A feeling of burning heaviness in your stomach.

You sit slumped down onto the bar contemplating your feelings for the winged hero for awhile. Why can't emotions just be controlled?

"Hey-o!" You heard a voice from behind you break through the thoughts corrupting your mind. Hawks smiled and thanked the bartender before reaching his arms around you and helping you off the stool.

I didn't know he could be so gentle..

He walked you out the door and held your arms softly, but supportedly as he looked you in the face. "I'm gonna fly us okay? Don't wriggle to much." With that he picks you up and starts beating his wings.

"Hawks?" You call slurred and quiet.

"Yeah, kid?" He glances down at you with a light smile.

"What's your real name?"

"Well why would I tell you that when you refuse to tell me yours so often?" He chuckled.

"(Y/n) (y/l/n)"

"W..what?"

"My name. It's (Y/n) (y/l/n)." You replied back.

You could see the confusion of your open demeanor. But there was something else in his eyes. Something you couldn't put your finger on.

"Soooooooo....." you trailed off with a smile.

"Keigo Takami." He chortled at your ridiculous smile.

"That's a lot prettier than I thought it would be." You stared into his face. How could anyone not find him attractive. The perfect mix of facial hair, jawline, that dumb grin that was insanely attractive, those eyes that were the perfect gold.

"You're gorgeous, Keigo." You whisper more to yourself than him.

"And you apparently drank a lot more than I suspected." He tried to brush off but you could feel a bit more heat from his face.

"Here it is." He lands gingerly and places you down on the ground, wrapping his arm under your shoulder and holding onto the small of your back. "Let's get you in bed."

"Have you eaten today?" He calls after setting you on the couch and going to the kitchen to get you some water. You shake your head and he looks a little concerned but doesn't push it. He hasn't either so late take out it is.

"What do you want?" He looks to you above the old paper menu he has saved from a place not to far from here. "Cuddles." You pout looking through your phone.

"I meant for dinner (y/n)." He laughs at you. "Oooh that makes sense." You laugh too, "anything with noodles and shrimp, I reaaaaally like shrimp." You smile at him wholesomely as he looks at you with the same missing thing as earlier in his eyes.

He orders for the both of you then takes you to the bathroom and sits you on the counter with your bag. "Makeup remover?" He asked placing your bag on your lap. You pull out some individual wipes as he gentle pulls them from your fingers and moves the bag to the side.

He softly wipes at your face as you close your eyes and focus on the feeling of his hands. After wiping the makeup off he wipes down your face with water to make sure there's no remover left either.

"Beautiful. Now do you want to go watch something while we wait for the food?"

His eyes gleamed at you and it filled you with that feeling of admiration. He was being so considerate and kind. Nothing like you imagined. You were safe. Safe here with him by your side.

You placed a kiss to his cheek.

"(Y/nn)," he closed his eyes softly taking in the tingle of where your lips pressed. "You're drunk off your ass, baby. Lets get you fed and in bed, dear." You nod tiredly as he pulls you down from the counter.

You sit back down on his couch as he answers the door and takes the food. "Someone order shrimp?"

"Oooo!" You clap your hands rapidly and look to him excitedly. He giggles at you and hands you the food.

You sit and eat together. Talking about whatever comes to mind first and building on from wherever it wandered.

"So, what's your family like?" He asked innocently enough. "Eh." You brushed off. A subject you never liked was family.

"I get that." He tried to laugh but it seemed forced. "I was born with two parents and couldn't get a single one to even care about me." You laughed to him.

"Do you talk to them?" He looks like he wants your answer. Like he cares about what you say.

"I try not to. I cut them off when I was a teen, everyone blamed it on me being a dumb rebellious kid. No one ever tried to see what happened in those walls." You trailed off.

"Were you hurt?" He tilts his head as concern covers his features. "That's an understatement." You force a smile back at him and take a bite.

"I...I think I kinda understand what you feel in a way." You meet his eyes as they lazily traveled to the floor. His thoughts stiring from behind his pupils.

"No parent buddies?" You put out your hand for a fist bump. He laughs and fist bumps you, "Yeah, no parent buddies."

You lean a bit closer to him. "I'm sorry you were hurt. They didn't deserve the control they had over you." You went a bit more serious as you draw your eyes up to him.

"Im sorry for you too." He breathed out to you. "Now let's get you in bed." A smile took over as he moved your empty food package onto the table and picked you up.

"PUT ME DOWN KEIGO!" You laugh and softly hit your hands against him. He laughs with you then throws you onto the bed.

"Why am I on the bed?" You frown. "Why wouldn't you be?" He looks as he places your water on the night stand next to you.

"It's your bed."

"And I get to choose who sleeps in it."

He places a feather-light kiss on your temples then goes to the door.

"Keigo-" he turns, "cuddle me?"

"I'll clean up and be back here soon okay?" He smiles at you. "Okay"

After twenty minutes of struggling to keep yourself up you feel a weight press into the mattress, keeping some distance.

You roll up next to him and wrap yourself around him.

"Sweet dreams Keigo."

"Goodnight, (y/n)."

And there he was when you woke up. Right beside you. After awhile you got used to seeing his face when you woke up. Always being able to see the look in his eyes you tried so hard to put your finger on. The lovestruck stupid he was for you.

[flowerfan2]

We’re getting close to the end, folks!  Chapter 17 of 20 is up.  This one features some cuddles/comfort, a trip to NYC, a sparkling holiday party, and a romantic dance.  Enjoy!

David x Patrick, A03, 5k this chapter.

Chapter 17

David is sitting outside on the lanai, drinking his coffee and ignoring Alexis’ texts.  He doesn’t know how to answer her question.  He’s not sure why she thinks that texting him about the same thing over and over will make any difference, when he clearly told her, three days ago, to stop bothering him about it.

The problem is that he’s running out of time to make a decision, although in a way that’s a decision in itself.  He knows that the adult thing to do is to talk to Patrick about it, but if a little more time goes by, he won’t have to.

It’s only a few days away from one of his family’s most honored traditions, their annual holiday party, which has now become the Rose Motel Group holiday party.  This year, it’s at a trendy club in New York City, and it promises to be even more spectacular than ever.  David is expected to attend, whether he’s working remotely in Florida or not.

Of course, his parents would understand if he didn’t come… but he’ll pay the price, he knows it.  His father will have that sad look of disappointment, and his mother will be hurt, but hide it under fancy words and an extra ridiculous outfit.  And he really can’t stand the thought of upsetting Alexis.

It’s not only guilt, either.  David misses his family.  For better or worse, they have continued to be close since their days in Schitt’s Creek, and it’s not all due to concern about David’s mental health.  David genuinely enjoys their company, most of the time, and he’s come to rely on them.  Especially Alexis.

David had managed to put the holiday party completely out of his mind until Alexis started texting him about it.  Apparently his father finally caught on to the fact that he hadn’t committed, and put her on the case.  It’s been easy not to think about it, or anything to do with his old, sad, non-Patrick life, here in sunny Florida where the Christmas decorations look wildly out of place on the palm trees.  Even Patrick’s thoughtful gift of a menorah hadn’t overcome David’s willful not-thinking-about the holidays, annual festivities included.

He’s so happy here, with Patrick and no one else, in their bubble of suburban domesticity.  They pretty much do whatever they want, no one stopping in to put demands on them, no one asking questions.  Sure, they spend some time working during the day, but they’re never more than a few feet apart, unless one of them leaves the house to run a quick errand.  It’s not very realistic, and it might well have backfired, but so far it hasn’t.

Frankly David finds it comforting that Patrick is here, safe from all the demons that have been troubling him.  Although now he has to rewrite that story a bit, seeing as Marcy’s heath scare happened here in Florida.  But at least Patrick is far away from the site of his employment melt-down and his ill-fated night on the town with his cousin, cocooned in this little bubble where David can keep a close eye on him.

He worries about Patrick.  Over the past few weeks the Patrick he used to know is making his appearance more and more, but he’s still not the same.  Almost worse than the quiet sadness he sees in his eyes when he thinks David isn’t looking is the tentative surprise he shows when something goes right.  

It’s ironic, David thinks, that now, more than three years after their break-up, Patrick is the more damaged one.  It’s not what he ever imagined, when he thought about their future.  In the hazy mist of his imagination, Patrick was always and forever steady, guiding David through the stormy waters of his turbulent life.  (David acknowledges that his imagination is prone to purple prose.)  But life didn’t turn out that way, and he can only thank the universe that fate and shitty weather in Milwaukee brought them together again.  

David finishes his coffee and goes into the house, toeing off his shoes just inside the door.  He makes a cup of deliciously scented jasmine tea for Patrick, and heads back into the bedroom.

Patrick is still in bed, curled up in a ball with the duvet almost covering his face.  He hadn’t wanted to get up when the alarm went off, muttering to David that he didn’t have to do any work until the afternoon, and burrowing back down into the blankets.

David puts the tea down on the nightstand and slides under the covers, spooning up against Patrick’s back.  He moves slowly, trying to gauge whether his presence is welcome or not.  He knows Patrick isn’t actually asleep – his eyes flickered open when David entered the room.  The fact that he’s still in bed despite this isn’t a tremendously good sign, but David knows all too well how sometimes just getting out of bed can seem overwhelming.

To an outsider, he thinks that Patrick probably seems fine.  He is taking care of himself, doing what needs to be done in the house, and even starting a new job.  He gives the impression to others that he is completely in control, friendly and capable – and David thinks that more and more, it’s not a façade.  But David sees these moments, too, when it’s all just too much.

He curls his hand around Patrick’s arm, gently.  “Hey,” he whispers.  “I brought you some tea, if you want it.”

No reaction.

“Or you can just nap for a while.”

Patrick stirs, inching back towards David.  

“Okay if I nap too?”  David asks.

Patrick takes David’s hand and pulls it to his own chest, tucking his arm around David’s.  David can feel Patrick’s heartbeat against his palm.  

“Mmm.”  David presses a kiss to the back of Patrick’s neck.  “Sweet dreams, baby.”  David closes his eyes and breathes in the familiar smell of Patrick’s skin.  There are a lot worse things to do than cuddle his boyfriend through a difficult morning.  David can handle this.  He’s starting to think there’s quite a lot he can handle, when it comes to Patrick.

He knows Patrick was up late last night, going down rabbit holes on the web.  At some point David had woken up and peered at the screen of Patrick’s laptop, so he knows he was reading about depression.  He hopes it helped.  The internet can be a scary place; he’d probably be better off talking to someone.  David would talk to him about it, if he let him, but ever since their first few conversations Patrick hasn’t wanted to discuss it.  

David has almost fallen asleep when Patrick turns over and squints his eyes open.  

“You don’t have to stay here with me,” he says, blinking at David.

The sentence seems to carry more weight than he intended, and David shakes his head and puts his arm around Patrick, pulling him close.  “I’m not going anywhere.”  David shifts on to his back, and Patrick tucks himself against David’s chest.

“You have work.”  It’s a half-hearted protest at best, mumbled against David’s sweater.

“I already told Rory to move my meetings to the afternoon.  I’m fine.”  David presses a kiss to Patrick’s head. “I’m exactly where I want to be.  It’s a perfect day for sleeping in.”

Patrick is quiet, while David rubs his back and shuffles closer until they are entwined just right, legs and knees and arms all pressed together.  

After a few minutes David feels Patrick’s breath slow, and his hold on David relaxes.  He’s about to drift off himself, when Patrick jerks himself awake again.

“You okay, honey?”

Patrick nods, his chin digging into David.  “Yeah.  Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.  It’s all right.”  David strokes Patrick’s shoulder and back, making lazy circles, hoping it will help.  

“Thank you,” Patrick whispers, his hand flat against David’s stomach.  It’s the last thing David hears before he falls asleep.

When David wakes up, Patrick is gone, but the shower is running so there’s not much of a question as to where he went.  David drags himself upright and checks his phone.  Rory has indeed moved his meetings, one to this afternoon, one to tomorrow, and one he had taken care of all by himself.  Maybe there won’t be coal in his Christmas stocking after all.

David is in the kitchen sniffing various take-out containers to figure out if he can stand eating any of them for lunch, when Patrick shows up.  He’s wide awake and smells delightfully like David’s favorite body wash, so naturally David has to kiss him before anything else.  When they separate, Patrick is smiling sweetly at him, and David feels his whole body light up.  If there’s something better than Patrick’s fond attention, he has yet to discover it.

Patrick insists on making lunch, and they pull together a salad with some bagged lettuce, leftover grilled chicken and an overlooked cucumber.

“We have got to get something better for dinner,” David says, as they lean against the kitchen island and eat their food.  

“There’s an Italian place in a new shopping center that I haven’t tried yet, but it looks good.”  Patrick sends David the link to the restaurant’s menu, and David is checking out their desserts (they have cannoli, which is a definite mark in their favor), when Patrick’s phone chirps several times in a row.

“David?”

“Hm?”

“Why does Alexis want my measurements?”

David freezes, his good mood draining out of him.  “What?”

“Alexis wants to know my-”

David yanks the phone out of his hand.  “Let me see.”  He scans the messages.  The party isn’t directly mentioned, but there’s no getting out of it now.  He’s going to kill Alexis for pulling this shit and going around him.  “I can explain.”

“Okay, go ahead.”  Patrick takes a bite of his salad, then looks up at David.  “What’s going on?”

Time to bite the bullet.  “This Saturday night is the RMG holiday party.”

“Okay…”

“And my parents want me to come.”

Patrick looks… disappointed.  “Oh.”

David realizes his mistake instantly.  “Us – they want <i>us</i> to come.  But – you don’t have to.  I didn’t think you’d want to.”

“Do you want me to?”

David stands up from his chair and paces, to the patio and back, wishing it wasn’t raining so he could go outside and pace there too.  

“David?  Is that a hard question?”  Patrick is standing now, too, and there’s a tinge of anger in his tone.

“I don’t want you to feel like you <i>have</i> to come,” David says, coming towards him and gripping his arms. “I don’t want to rock the boat.  We’re good here.  There’s no reason to risk it.”

“To risk what?”  Now Patrick just sounds confused.

“Anything.”  David tilts his head back.  “I know I sound crazy, that’s why I didn’t bring this up.”

Patrick pulls them towards the couch, and they sit down.  David leans his head in his hands.

“David. Tell me what’s really going on.”

He sighs.  “What if you don’t like it?”

“The party?”

David looks up and rolls his eyes at him.  “No, not the party.  What if you’re mad, about why I didn’t say anything?”

“I don’t mean to dismiss your concerns, David, but you might be overthinking things.  Why don’t you just spit it out?”

“Fine.”  David straightens his shoulders and looks at Patrick.  “I like being here with you. I like the <i>us</i> we have.  I don’t want anything to mess that up.”

“Agreed, one hundred percent,” Patrick says, winding his fingers through David’s.  “Go on.”

“I don’t want to go to New York without you, and have people… talk at me about it.  Put thoughts in my head, about how it might not work.  And I don’t want you to come and have the same thing happen.”

“So, you’re afraid that if we leave here, and see anyone else, they’ll be able to convince us that what we have isn’t going to last?”

“All right, all right, I know that’s silly.”  David squeezes his eyes shut.  “Also I don’t want you to get upset.”

There’s a pause, and when Patrick speaks, his voice is quiet, his slightly teasing tone gone.  “Upset about what?”

David shrugs, his eyes still closed. “Things that might… upset you.  Strangers.  The city.  A crowded club.”  He can feel Patrick go still next to him.  “I don’t know if that’s why we keep to ourselves down here.  But if that was any part of it, if this is your safe space, I don’t want you to feel you have to leave.  Not for something as dumb as a holiday party.”

Patrick breathes in and out, audibly, and David opens his eyes.  Patrick’s looking down at where their hands are entwined, studying them, his lips pressed tightly together.  David reaches over and cups Patrick’s head with his hand, bringing them closer.  “I hope that was okay to say,” David says softly.

Patrick nods.  “Yeah,” he says, “yeah.  That was okay to say.”  He looks at David, and his eyes are wet.  “You’re right.  This is my safe space, here, with you.”

David feels his chest clench, and he nods back.  “I’m glad.”

Patrick inhales deeply, and blinks away a tear.  “But I don’t think your family’s holiday party is necessarily a dumb reason to leave.”

“No?”

“No.  I think it might be good for us.  Especially since Alexis is apparently finding me a really nice suit.”

*****

It sounds easy – Patrick says sure, they should go to the party.  But there are a dozen decisions to make after that, and by the next night, David is really wishing he had found a way to just say no.

When to leave is easy enough – there’s no way he wants Patrick to have to take Friday off, not with a brand-new job, so they’ll fly into LaGuardia on Saturday morning.  But will they come back on Sunday – Christmas Eve?  Or spend that night with his family and come back on Christmas itself?  Spend yet another night to avoid traveling on Christmas?  And how is it fair to Patrick’s parents, to make this special trip to be with David’s family, and not see them?

Add to that figuring out where they’ll stay (one night on Alexis’ pull-out couch is barely tolerable, but more than that, forget it), what social events David will agree to while there, and who is going to pay for the whole charade, and it’s a giant mess.

“Ok, I’ve had enough,” David says, when their dinner of take-out sushi has been completely dominated by debating the pros and cons of the various options, each of them trying to anticipate what the other wants and as far as David can tell, defeating the point of the entire conversation.  “Let’s play rock, paper, scissors.”

“What?”

“I can’t stand it anymore.  Whoever wins, chooses.”

“That won’t solve it.”  

Patrick’s right, it still doesn’t mean whoever wins will actually pick something reasonable, and not just what they think the other person wants.

“But you might be on to something,” Patrick continues, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Please, tell me, and put an end to this so we can get on with our lives.”  And pack, David thinks.

“On the count of three, put out a finger for how many nights you want to stay in New York.  No more debate, no more thinking about it.”

“Each of us puts out a finger for how long <i>who</i> wants to stay?”

Patrick glares at him.  “Don’t make this harder than it is.  The conversation is over.  Ready?”

David nods.  Whatever happens, at least then they can move on.

“One, two-”

“Wait, do we put out a finger on three, or are you going to say one, two, three, go?”

Patrick smacks David on the arm.

“Ow!”

“I’m going to say one, two, three, go.” There’s a twinkle in Patrick’s eyes when they meet David’s.  “Ready?  One, two, three, go!”

Both of them put out one finger.

“Oh, thank god,” David says, sagging forward, his forehead against Patrick’s.

“Why didn’t you just say that?”

“Can we please not talk about this anymore?”  David didn’t want to stay in New York any longer than necessary; he didn’t want to have any other days to worry about what his parents might want him to do versus what Patrick might want to do, he didn’t want to have to manage any of it any longer than he had to.  But he also didn’t want Patrick to feel like he was cutting David’s time with his family short, or that David was giving something up for him.  Because right now, all David really wants is whatever is best for Patrick, and what’s best for him and Patrick together.  And his gut is telling him that getting back to Florida on Sunday, and then spending Monday (even though it’s Christmas?  Because it’s Christmas?) together, alone, with no work and no family for a whole day, is what’s best for them both.

Patrick laughs.  “Sure.  And you know what’s great about our decision?”

“That it’s done?”

“Yes, and now we can just stay at Alexis’ place, since it will only be one night.”

“Thank god for small mercies.”

*****

They wake up at a painfully early hour Saturday morning and drag themselves to the airport, which is packed with Christmas travelers.  But everything goes smoothly, and by noon they’re in an Uber on their way to Alexis’ place.  When she opens the door she ignores David completely and envelops Patrick in a hug that goes on for so long, Patrick signals to David for help.  It’s unbearably sweet, and David is suddenly, overwhelmingly happy that they decided to come to New York.

Alexis gives Patrick a tour of her tiny apartment, and Patrick appropriately oohs and ahs over everything.  Alexis is especially proud of the little corner of her room that serves as an office, with its mood boards and tastefully decorated shelves.

“So this is where the magic happens,” Patrick says, and Alexis beams.

“Yes, Patrick!”  She sits down at her computer and pulls up a file to show him her latest spreadsheet achievement, when David sees a glossy looking envelope on her counter with Patrick’s name on it.

“What’s this?”  He picks it up, admiring the heavy paper, when he recognizes the ice blue logo.  “Alexis, why do you have-”

She plucks it out of his hand and does a little shimmy.  “It’s not for you, David.”  With a flourish, she hands it to Patrick.

Patrick exchanges a “what can you do” glance with David, and opens the envelope.  David crowds close, too excited to wait.

“It’s from your mom,” Patrick says.  

“It’s a lil’ couples massage,” Alexis says, practically bouncing on her toes.  “She specifically said to tell you that <i>there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself</i>.”  Alexis points with an impeccably polished nail to where it says that on the card, and David rolls his eyes, remembering the day Patrick reassured his mother that she wasn’t responsible for the dead guy in Room 4.  He <i>knew</i> she was being purposefully obtuse about the scone.

“Do we even have time for this massage thing?” Patrick asks.  “It’s for today.”

“Um, yes, we have time.  We absolutely have time.  This is one of the most exclusive spas in the city.”  David grabs Patrick’s coat off the couch; his own leather jacket is barely warm enough for New York in December, but at least it’s appropriate, unlike Patrick’s down monstrosity.  “Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m coming with you,” Alexis says, linking her arm through Patrick’s.  “Maybe we can make it a trio.”

“Not unless you are ready to walk out this door in thirty seconds.”

“Ugh, David.”  

Luckily Alexis takes only fifteen minutes to get ready to go, and they’re on their way.  Despite the fact that David has never heard of a trio massage (and he shudders to think of how expensive that might be), he doesn’t dissuade her from coming along.  He’s got barely twenty-four hours to hang out with her, and he’s going to soak up every one of them.

In the end Alexis drops them at the spa to do some shopping of her own, while David and Patrick are pampered to within an inch of their lives.  During the initial consultation with the massage therapists, they are fed chocolate covered strawberries and cucumber water.  They agree on the massage oils, and the music, and then are led to a dim room which smells delightfully like eucalyptus and jasmine.  David tries to keep his eyes open so he can watch Patrick melting into jelly on the table next to him.  It’s without a doubt the best massage David has ever experienced.  He can practically feel the oxytocin swirling in the air between them.

Afterwards they are helped into fluffy white robes, and then collapse together onto a wide, padded lounger.  “That was really nice,” Patrick says.

“Nice?”  David asks.  “Just nice?”

Patrick snuggles into David’s shoulder.  “Mmm.  I can’t think of words right now.  Full review later.”

David noses at Patrick’s hair.  “Okay.”

“Love you,” Patrick says muzzily.

“Love you too.”

They dose together, boneless and content, until a soft chime wakes them.  Reluctantly they find their way to the changing rooms, and then out into reality.

Alexis is buzzing with excitement and wants to immediately go back to her place to get dressed, but David insists that they find something to eat first.  It’s still hours away from when dinner will be served tonight, and as lovely as the chocolate covered strawberries were, he needs some real food or things will get ugly.

Luckily, they spot one of his favorite places to get a quick snack (it’s a chain with pretentious communal tables, but David has spent many hours here and he loves it anyway), so they load up on quiche and avocado tartine and mochas before returning to Alexis’ apartment.

When they arrive it’s fashion show time.  Because Alexis loves dressing up, she had agreed ages ago to let David keep some clothes in her closet – just a few choice outfits for when they were in New York together and felt like going out.  But David can feel Patrick hovering next to him, all the afternoon’s relaxing threatening to disappear, so he suggests they look at his options first.

Alexis beams and starts chattering about what she got for Patrick, and David leans in close, a hand on the small of his back.  “You don’t have to wear any of that if you don’t want to,” he whispers, as Alexis pulls out a silver shirt with a shiny gleam.  “You can wear what you brought.  Or what you’ve got on right now.”  David gives Patrick’s jeans-clad ass a little slap, and Patrick snorts out a laugh.

“What?  You don’t like this one?”  Alexis asks.  “You’re right, it’s too flashy.  How about this?”  She reaches airily into the closet, and David can tell by the way she’s standing, like she’s posing for a photo, that she’s presenting her top choice.  It’s a dark navy blue suit (Tom Ford? How did she get a Tom Ford suit for Patrick?) with a deep, rich purple shirt.  She holds it up to Patrick, and he nods carefully, then looks over to David for approval.

David pets it, and looks inside for a label.  The suit isn’t a Tom Ford, although it looks damn good.  And now that he examines the jacket more closely, he can see it has its own distinctive style.  “Where did you get this, Alexis?  And who made it?”

Alexis preens.  “One of my friends has a connection with an up and coming designer,” she says.  “She’ll be at the party tonight.  I’ll introduce you.”

“And we don’t have to pay for this, right?”  David asks.  The cut is classically elegant, and he thinks it’s going to fit Patrick like a glove.

“Nope,” she says, popping the ‘p’.  “She’s just happy to have someone wearing her clothes.”

“I’ll try it on,” Patrick says, and Alexis shows him to the bathroom.  When he comes back out, David can’t help but go to him, running his hands up and down his shoulders and arms.

“You like it?”  Patrick asks.  

“I like <i>you,</i>” David says, and presses a quick kiss to Patrick’s lips.  “And you look amazing in this suit.”  He unbuttons another button of the shirt, liking the way the open neck shows just a little bit of Patrick’s skin.

“It doesn’t need a tie?” Patrick asks.

“No, you’re perfect just like this.”

“Yay!”  Alexis cheers, coming over and booping Patrick on the nose.  “I knew this was going to work!”

David decides on his black and white Armani short jacket, with a sharp collared white shirt underneath and slim black ankle-length trousers.  He likes the contrast with Patrick’s rich colored but still traditionally styled suit.  Alexis twirls for them in her dress, a silky blush colored gown that makes her look like a 50’s movie star. They’re finally ready, and they pile into a waiting Uber and head uptown.

The back room of the club is already crowded, and David can’t help but feel a little swell of pride at how RMG has grown.  Stevie waves to them from where she’s standing across the room with Ruth, but David doesn’t have a chance to get over to her before his parents descend.  There are hugs all around, and when the wave of familial affection finally recedes, David can’t help but notice that Patrick looks a little overwhelmed.

He weaves his arm through Patrick’s and leads them away, finding an alcove where they can catch their breath.

“You okay?” he asks, a palm to Patrick’s chest.  He can feel his heart beating a mile a minute.  This is exactly what he was worried about, this is too much for Patrick, too many people.  “We can leave anytime, we made our appearance, I’ll call a car-”

“No, David, I’m fine,” Patrick says, taking David’s hand.  “Really.”

David searches his face.  “Are you sure?  Because you seem a little…”

“David,” Patrick says firmly.  “I’m fine.”  He slides his hands around David’s waist, under his jacket, and David can feel the warmth of his fingers pressing against him through the thin fabric of his shirt.  David slings his arms around Patrick and leans his head against his shoulders.  “Your parents are very enthusiastic, but it’s great to see them,” Patrick says.  “Everything’s okay.”

“You’re fine,” David repeats, willing himself to believe it.  Patrick really is.  Nothing’s wrong.  

“Could it be, maybe, you’re a little nervous too?”  Patrick says, his voice gentle.

David wants to deny it, but realizes instantly that Patrick is right.  He feels a little fizzy, a little unsteady.  “Maybe.”  Patrick isn’t the only one who has been enjoying their little Florida bubble.  

Patrick hugs him closer, and then steps back, inclining his head out towards the party.  “Come on.  Alexis said there’d be crab puffs.”

“Crab cakes,” David corrects.  

“Crab cakes, then.  And baked brie.”

“I still don’t see any coherency in the hors d’oeuvre selection,” David gripes, back on solid ground.

“But you’re going to eat all of them anyway.”

“I am definitely going to eat all of them anyway.”

They’re grazing by the cheese platters when David sees a few familiar faces coming towards him.  This is going to be fun, he thinks, a smile tugging at his cheek.

“David, hi!”  

“Vanessa, you look radiant.”  She does, her dark skin set off by a metallic pantsuit and glimmers of gold around her eyes.  

“Most beautiful woman in the room,” rumbles her companion, a huge man with a barrel chest who towers over both David and Patrick.

“Patrick, meet Vanessa, my favorite gallery employee from back in the day, and her husband Rory, my current favorite employee.”

Rory laughs, his deep voice probably setting off small earthquakes somewhere.  “I’m not your employee, Rose.”  He holds out his hand to Patrick.  “Nice to meet you.”

Patrick turns to David, and the reveal was definitely worth it.  “This is your assistant Rory?  The one you bother all day long about your schedule?  The one you sent to pick out your clothes?”

“Mmm-hmm.”  David <i>knows</i> Patrick thought “Rory” was some college kid, he just knows it.  Instead he’s a thirty-five year old sculptor who wanted a day job for a steady paycheck.

“What, you don’t think I can be trusted with David’s clothes?”  Rory asks.  “I admit, I was surprised, too.  But I guess he had a good reason to ask me to go through all of his drawers.”

“Drawers?  My knits aren’t in drawers, where did you-” David sees the look on Vanessa’s face, and abruptly changes course.  “You made Vanessa do it, didn’t you.”

Vanessa laughs, and tucks her arm through her husband’s.  “I’m sorry, David, but come on – you send Rory an emergency text telling him to Fed Ex you extremely specific selections from your warm weather clothing, and you think I’m not going to get involved?  I’ve known you for years and you never let me into your closet before. It was an experience I was not going to pass up.”

Patrick is giggling into his glass of seltzer, and David has had quite enough of this.  “Fine.  Tease me if you want.  But I think we can all agree it was a successful mission.”  He hooks his chin over Patrick’s shoulder, his arm snug around him.

“From the way you two look together, I’d say so,” Vanessa says.

“Here here.” Rory raises his glass, and they all follow suit.  “To David and Patrick.”

“Oh my god, enough with that,” David says, and buries his burning face in Patrick’s neck.

Rory and Vanessa excuse themselves, but David has hardly had a chance to visit the buffet again when Patrick tugs at his arm.

“What?” he says, looking up from a particularly delicious egg roll.

“Come dance with me,” Patrick says, his eyes wide and warm, and David drops his plate on a table and follows him.  

“What brought this on?” David asks, as he loops his arms over Patrick’s shoulders and starts to move in time to the music.

Patrick shrugs a little and pulls David closer.  “My parents always dance to this song,” he says into David’s ear.

David feels his chest expand, and he presses a kiss to Patrick’s cheek.  “It’s a nice song.”  

<i>Moon river, wider than a mile</i> <i>I'm crossing you in style some day</i>

<i>Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker</i> <i>Wherever you're goin', I'm goin' your way</i>

David listens for a moment to the bittersweet melody.  “Is it a love song?” he finally asks.  It’s not as if he’s ever given <i>Moon River</i> much thought before.  

Patrick slides his fingers up the back of David’s neck, into his hair.  “I think it’s love for the journey, rather than a destination.”

<i>Two drifters, off to see the world</i>

<i>There’s such a lot of world to see</i>

David glances around, and now his parents are dancing too, along with a handful of other couples.  He nuzzles against Patrick.  “Not to quote my sister or anything, but… I like this journey for us.”

Patrick turns his head and finds David’s lips, kissing him sweetly.  “Me too, David.  Me too.”

[thesolotomyhan]

Narcos México: Dating them would include: (5/7)

Tags: @fandomnerd16​ , @visintaes​

Warnings: NSFW

Miguel:

Miguel Ángel ,, this man needs someone he can wholeheartedly trust,,

Your able to keep him focused on only one thing and forget everything else, one step at a time motto

He loves having your full attention and love,,

Por eso esta perdidamente enamorado de ti

He can also always count on you for being on his side and giving him advice on hard decisions

Whenever he feels like he’s gonna explode because of the pendejadas his employers are doing, he’s automatically calling you

It de-stresses him when he hears about your day and what you’re planning on doing later,

honestly your voice just soothes him as he closes his eyes and listens to you

I feel like, when that’s not enough, he’s inviting right on the spot if you want to visit the cafe nearby or something

He loves taking you out for dates at fancy places/restaurants

Miguel feels like your love grows stronger when he takes you out because you’re spending time together

He’s also always making sure you enjoy your food, surroundings, etc, he wants it to be perfect for you,

Like, if you even mention that your food is a bit cold, he’s snapping his fingers and making orders,,

“Ay, pendejo, como se te ocurre darle a mi esposa su comida todo frío, es una dama, orale, apurate a traerla otro plato, cabrón”

 he can’t help it, he wants everything to have your approval.

He wants to treat you with what you deserve and more

Miguel goes soft when you smile at him for a gesture he did, it might be something you said you wanted a long time ago or just him buying a big ass bouquet of roses because we all know Felix can be extra 💅🏼

So he’s definitely bringing you a serenata where you live and giving you that adoring smile he does when he sees your face light up

Serenata Sin Luna by Jose Alfredo Jiménez just screams this, let me go sob

God, the way he overachieves expectations when it’s your birthday or something

Like this man thinks his birthday parties are casual, but when it comes to you, he has to have them fancy and extravagant,,,

“Miguel, que es todo esto?”

“Pues es tu cumpleaños tesoro, y apenas vamos empezando”

It’s just jaw dropping the way he goes all out for you

You can’t tell me otherwise that this man lives for taking walks with you,, either late at night after a date or just a normal walk to talk about anything and hold your hand- ugh

He’s one to give you his coat so you don’t freeze as he hugs you into his side

“Ya vez, te dije que trajeras un suéter, mija”

While he pulls you into him, smiling and kissing the top of your head🥺

Miguel’s also asking every time you see a carrito de comida if you want anything, without fail

I can definitely see you guys sharing food, just feeding each other as you smile to one another and the heart eyes you both give each other- I can’t 

HAND HOLDING, again,,,I- he just really loves holding your hand ok, like apart of him makes him feel  strong when he’s holding your hand, he’ll give you an occasional squeeze when he gets excited, stressed, or worried about something

I can also see him fiddling with your wedding ring as he holds you hand, whenever he’s bored or nervous at a party dinner,-

God, this man spoils you every minute he can,

He states that it’s the least he can do after you put up with him, -the softness that is showing is astronomical

But you’re always telling him that you’re sticking around because your love for him is endless, 🥺

That statement alone makes him die of happiness

Every time there’s a party that he needs to attend, he’s already sending you a new dress for you to wear to accompany him

This man is complimenting every second he can,

He’s worshipping the ground you walk on

“Te ves tan hermosa, mija”

I can definitely see that people only walk up to him when you’re next to him because he’s actually approachable and happy when you’re around,,

Styling his hair back to normal after he ruins it when he stresses out,,

“Ya, mi amor, tu sabes que no me gusta verte así, tu eres mejor que ellos”-

The way he looks at you makes me cry, you can just see his worries go away as he smiles up at you🥺

Or even when he needs reassurance that you do love him after Felix visits Neto in prison, like the part where he tells him that he’s alone in this world

“Cuídate Flaco, la única persona que te queda es tu mujer; un milagro que ella todavía esta contigo”  That really got to him :(

That’s when he’ll spend the whole day with you, like a lazy day... never wanting to let go of you...

“Si sabes, yo hago todo esto por ti, verdad? Este es tu imperio tesoro, y de nadie mas”-

Soft cuddles in the morning and before you go to bed together because Miguel is on that soft shit

You’re what makes him a better man at the end of the day, your relationship is so beautiful, I’m crying

NSFW:

Miguel Angel Felix Gallardo,, this man is making you feel things, 

Let me put this out there,,, Miguel lives for seeing you blowing him

It’s one of the only good things that come out for him when he’s stressed tf out because you’re always willing to help him relax

I feel like you’ll grab hold of his face and kiss him as his hands grip your clothes like an anchor,,,

“Ven”

You’ll lead him to sit down as you get down on your knees and begin to unbuckle his pants as he lets out a deep breath

He’ll let you do all the work as he lets his head fall back while he lazily thrusts into your mouth,

“Como me sabes cuidar, verdad tesoro?” 

As he smiles down at you- 

El Jefe de Jefes, look there’s a reason why he’s given that name, 

he’s definitely a dom, he wants to see as you fall apart beneath him, it’s such an amazing sight for him

The way you say his name and scratch his back while he just fucks you into the bed

He chuckles lightly when he rubs your clit with his fingers as he keeps thrusting into you, just the way you gasp and say his name a little louder-

The build up to having sex is something else entirely, I can see him desperately kissing you as he grips you clothes while you’re quickly unbuttoning his shirt

He’ll lay you on the bed as he moves to start kissing your neck and moving his fingers in between your thighs,

Oh yeahh, this man is into fingering you, like holy shit, the way he’ll look into your eyes and hoarsely speak to you

“Mira lo fácil que te hago sentir, amor, como eres de obediente para mi” as he’s curling his fingers into you- okk

I feel like Miguel would not give you time to adjust to him, like he’s too desperate, ya feel?

Like, you’ll stutter his name out and on the verge of tears from pain and pleasure but he’s just brushing your hair out of your face and cradling your face, nodding his head

“No, no hagas eso, yo se que puedes, tesoro”

He’ll silence you by kissing you and just pounding into you more harder

Wow, the way he’ll have you not thinking straight anymore with your head thrown back, excites him-

 one of his absolute favorite positions is having one of your legs lifted on his shoulder, as he fucks you, because that’s hella erotic

The marks he leaves behind makes you feel so many emotions, too

He’s always leaving them on your chest, a spot where only he can see and no one else-

Speaking of exciting emotions,,,, Desk Sex

Like, c’mon you know this is a thing 

Miguel’s ass fantasizes about this

Like, either you bent over his desk or laying, spread out on his desk as he clasps his hand over your mouth, wow

When you're bent over his desk with one of your legs resting on his desk and the other leg on the ground, he’s tangling his hand into your hair as he pulls you back and moves to wrap it wrap your throat,

“Calladita, amor, no quieres que nos encuentren, verdad?”, as he’s thrusting deeply into you from behind and moves his other hand to rub your throbbing clit -ok, someone escort me out

Balcony Sex -that’s for another time,,

I feel like, the times when he comes home from his out of country/state trips, you’re already waiting for him on the bed with his favorite lingerie

He pauses from the door and lightly chuckles,

“Imaginate si alguien más o el pinche Clavel entra y no yo, amor”

Uggh, i can just see you lightly laughing as you get up and walk up to him and lead him to sit down on the bed

“Te extrañaba, mi amor”

You’re straddling him as he grabs hold of your hips and desperately kisses you-,

now usually he doesn’t prefer to be bottom, but when my baby is tired, he can’t even think

He’ll let you have your fun on top of him, like grounding your hips onto his and gripping his shoulders

The way you both let out deep breaths in sync when he’s inside of you-

Loves the way you’re desperately bouncing on him-

He’ll steady you on top of him once your hips start to stutter and your creasing your eyebrows,, he knows your going to stop soon

So he’ll move his hands to grip your ass and thrust up into you,,

“Dime cuanto me extrañabas” -wow

I just know this man can last the whole night making you see stars and only remember his name.

[louiseleblancdiggory]

"I could never leave you behind." + "I know you're scared" + Rowan + Aelin = Angst Fest = Happy(?) Reader

You guys get happy with sad shit I will never understand this. I usually listen to songs while writing angst so I will attach it here. Anyways, here you go..... Enjoy I guess?

Warnings: death, blood, mentions of war, illness

La Vie en Rose

- -

Aelin was exhausted.

Her golden bangs were sticking to her forehead, and it didn’t matter how many times she swiped them away with the back of her hand, they always seemed to go back. She should have listened to Lysandra and not have cut them. If she hadn’t, then maybe she would have been able to tuck them into the white cloth headband holding the rest of her hair back. It was made out of the same linen as her dress and apron, but it was probably the cleanest garment she wore these days.

Before, Aelin was never seen with a speck of dirt on her, always wearing beautiful and fancy dresses. Her fashion style was commented among the elite of Terrasen, and she prided herself in her own beauty.

Beauty didn’t matter these days, she supposed. Neither did beautiful clothes, or how clean you were. No, those things seemed so far away now that Aelin felt rather like a foolish little girl when she remembered them. When this all started, the government, the people on the streets kept saying how this would change their men forever, but no one seemed to warn the women how it would affect them too.

Aelin was sitting on the floor, an old metal water bottle in front of her. She had drank until the last drop after treating one of the soldiers, the work harder than usual. It had required so many stitches, that Aelin didn’t know how she had managed to do it all without her hands trembling terribly. Usually, Elide or Lysandra did the stitches— Aelin had always been better in the calming part, in keeping the soldiers company until they got better.

Or until they passed.

But Lysandra had been transferred to a camp on the other side of Terrasen, and Elide had fallen ill five months after arriving at the camps. She had been her cousin, had been someone Aelin knew her whole life, so after she didn’t recover from the illness, Aelin became much more numb to the job. This wasn’t like the movies she had seen. No dramatic scenes, no happy ending in sight. Only death, and pain, and blood. Sometimes, Aelin looked around and wondered if Elide’s death hadn’t been a blessing to the sweet girl.

Perhaps this was Gods’ way of taking the good souls with them until they abandoned this world once and for all.

Most nights for the past years, Aelin would pray for death too.

She never died, though. She woke up everyday and made sure these men didn’t die either. She made sure that they would wake up with her in the next morning, in blinding pain but glad that they had another chance, another speck of hope of ever going back home. That is, if there was a home to go back after everything.

Despite all the death and destruction around her, Aelin had also grown rather fond of some soldiers. It was foolish, she knew, to get attached to people who walked into battlefields everyday. It was foolish to sit on the cobblestones of the little infirmary whenever no one needed her, watching the horizon and hoping they would come back. Despite its foolishness, though, Aelin supposed everyone needed some hope these days.

Hers was Rowan Whitethorn.

Rowan Whitethorn had been her hope since Elide had died and Lysandra had been taken away.

He was one of the Lieutenants around, and despite his seriousness and brooding nature, he had always been kind to Aelin. Always visited her after finishing reports, always came to drink with her after a good day.

Always came by the bad days too.

He always made sure to check in with her after coming back, just so he would let her know he was still alive. He was still there.

His friends became her friends, and now whenever Aelin looked over the horizon, she wouldn’t wait only for Rowan. Her heart also hurt whenever she thought about the Moonbeam twins, Vaughan, Gavriel or Lorcan not coming back. Always felt unbelievably afraid she would go back home alone one day.

No, getting attached was foolish but hope was needed indeed.

Aelin hoped for so many things, but also always kept all that bottled numbness around just in case.

Hope was all they had these days.

Fenrys hoped he would go back to Doranelle one day, he would always say. He had met a beautiful woman weeks short of being drafted, and although years had passed, he still hoped she had waited. Still hoped he could have a normal life after this. 

Years later after the war was over, he would discover that the city of Doranelle had been attacked and the beautiful woman hadn’t made it out.

Vaughan and Connall hoped they both would survive so, once they went back home, they could get properly married. Connall would always announce to the lower ranking soldiers that they were all invited to the ceremony, a party so big it would be more memorable than this war. Vaughan would smile at him, but fear and sadness always clouded his eyes. Hope was never enough to erase fear, it seemed.

Years later after the war was over, Connall would sit alone in an empty house, mourning for a man he never had the chance to marry properly.

Lorcan had loved Elide. Although only together for five months, Aelin knew Lor had loved her cousin. After her death, Aelin believed he wished for death, wished to join Elide in a place better than this. She discovered months later that Lorcan still had hope, still had dreams. As strange as it was to imagine that man with kids, Lorcan hoped he survived enough to do what Elide had always dreamed of. A small orphanage that would treat kids right until a loving family came by— a thing Lorcan hadn’t had when younger.

Years later after the war was over, Lorcan would decide to remain in the army, too scarred from years fighting to ever go back to the normal world.

Gavriel hoped to be alive so he could see Andromeda again. His lover, he would sometimes quietly tell Aelin while she stitched him up. Beautiful like no one, a terrible dancer who loved to dance with her whole heart. Gavriel hoped he could see her dance one more time.

Years later after the war was over, Gavriel would go back home to a grave with a woman inside that he would never see dancing again. Same illness as Elide, he would discover. He never talked to Lorcan after that, as if the other man was a mirror he refused to look at.

And then there was Rowan. In the beginning, he would tell her he didn’t have anything or anyone waiting for him. That dying in this war wouldn’t be terrible, wouldn’t crush his hopes because he didn’t have any.

That had been years ago, because two weeks ago, during a summer night while they all sat around the fire, Rowan told that his mind had changed. That he had something to hope for.

“Once this war is over, Aelin Galathynius, I hope I can take you out.” He said with a small smile, whispering so no one else would hear his dreams. “Any flashy or expensive or fancy place you want to go. And then I will take you to a bar and we will dance all night , just like Gavriel says his wife likes to do. And then, only then, I will kiss you.”

Aelin had smiled, arching an eyebrow at him. “Only then?”

He nodded solemnly. “Only then.”

The thought of it always brought a smile to Aelin’s lips, a new sort of lightheartedness taking over her body. Even amidst the war, imagining a life with Rowan— a normal life— always made her see the world a soft and lovely pink.

“Galathynius.” Rolfe calls from the infirmary. “They need you at the shock ward. Sorry, sweetheart, I tried to get them to give you some rest.”

“It’s fine, Rolfe.” Aelin said, getting up. “We are all used to it by now.”

Aelin had worked all day, seeing the sun slowly set, painting the world pink and orange. It was about time for dinner, and she was just finishing talking to a boy no older than seventeen who had broken his arm when rushed steps sounded. Hell broke lose in the room as a group of men hauled another one in one of the tables, shouting things to one another and to anyone around them.

It took Aelin a whole minute to realize who was on top of the table.

She didn’t know if she should cry or laugh bitterly. Maybe the Gods hated her, maybe the Gods did hate them all.

Aelin walked calmly to the table, willing all that bottled numbness to take over the hope in her body.

“How am I doing, ma’am? I tried telling them I was ok, but apparently they wanted a nurse’s opinion.” Rowan asked, his face in a grimace. Aelin knew that Rowan knew enough about injuries to know the answer to that. She looked back at the boys, all suddenly quiet as they watched Rowan.

Aelin decided to ignore his question, smiling at him instead. “Came back to check in? It was getting late, I was worried.”

Rowan didn’t complain about her changing the subject, instead grabbing her hand. “I could never leave you behind, Fireheart.”

Her throat twisting but not a single tear appearing. “Good, you still owe me a flashy, expensive, and fancy dinner.”

“Some dancing too, if I remember correctly.”

She nodded, cupping his face in one hand and rubbing his cheek with her thumb. “And a kiss.”

He nodded too, the tears that were missing on Aelin coming out of his eyes. “I know you are scared—“

Aelin bent down to kiss him on the forehead. “You are doing just fine, sir.”

Rowan smiled at that, lovingly and through tears. “I was just confirming.”

Ten minutes.

It had taken ten minutes until he died, nothing anyone could do.

Aelin left the room without a word to anyone. She walked and walked and walked until she knew no one would find her.

And only then she cried.

Because despite having just lost another person, she was a nurse. And nurses never cried in front of their patients or patients’ families. Never in front of the soldiers.

But now she was alone. Truly and wholly alone.

And so Aelin cried.

And the pink world became gray again.

Tags:

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @lexflame @sleeping-and-books @annejulianneh111 @perseusannabeth @linshryver @mu-si-ca-l @camilamartinezdunne @dank-queen7 @minaidss @starborn-faerie-queen @booksofthemoon @loveofbooksandwine @jesstargaryenqueen @bluejaberry @multifandommess-blog @yesdreamblog @abookishfreak @faerie-queen-fireheart @maastrash @morganofthewildfire @queen-of-glass @heirofthenightcourt

[thelittlestcheshire]

Self Para 008: I Don’t Pretend to Know the Challenges You’re Facing Word Count: 2024 words When: July 2020, in the early hours of July 19th during Ches’s birthday trip Note: I decided I’m going to queue up and post one of the old self paras I never posted, Feel free to skip it, since it’s a past event and stuff. TWs: Rape (mentioned / discussed), Anxiety Attacks, Alcoholism / Drinking, Hangovers, Vomitting, Death, suicide (not exactly but there’s a definite apathy towards the idea of death this as well so better safe than sorry), murder (her mother)

There was a loud thud as a purse landed on the suite’s floor as Ches stumbled through the front door. She knew she shouldn’t have gone to galaxy edge before closing for drinks, but she was desperate to feel good. Yet, no matter how much she drank today, she didn’t feel the happiness that tended to run through her veins. She felt worse and worse. Even the sight of the balloons in the living room from Emmett and his girlfriend didn’t bring any sort of joy.

It was her fault her mother died; she should have been here instead of Ches. And the more gifts she received, the more she thought back to why her mother was dead. If she hadn’t gone to get gifts for Jonah... it felt like the room was spinning as the thought came back. Wait, no, the room was definitely spinning.

“Hey Ches, sorry I needed to- fuck.” Zander had just come out from the living room, likely taking her up on his offer to hide, but his attempt to avoid people is forgotten by the time he reaches her. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” There were two of him by the time he wraps an arm around her to support her. “It’s been a long night.” He starts to lead her to her bedroom, and it’s hard to keep her feet under her as they walk. But he saves her from crashing to the floor and manages to get her on the bed.

“It wasn’t a night.” She slurs at him as she rests her head against her pillow. “Sky and I, you know. Club 33.” She knew the look on his faces even through the intoxicated haze. She knew he wasn’t happy about this. “I’m okay.” She informs him, starting to sit up. The room begins to move again, and for a moment, she feels like she might just be sick. She moves quickly, barely making it to the toilet before she vomits. Zander quickly behind her to hold back her hair. “See, fine.” She gets out weakly as she flushes the toilet.

“Definitely not fine.” He disagrees as he smooths out her hair. “I’m staying with you tonight, at least until you feel better.” It’s obvious she had no say in the matter, and she doesn’t waste the energy to protest. She slowly gets up, nearly falling face-first as she attempts to reach the bathroom sink to brush her teeth. He’s there in an instant to keep her from tumbling. Perhaps he had a point. She accepts the assistance as she brushes her teeth and doesn’t fight him as he leads her back to the bed and messes with all her pillows to ensure she’s propped up on her side.

“I hate you.”  

The words just slip off her tongue. Not how she genuinely felt in the slightest. Zander doesn’t seem to take offense. However, he just runs his fingers through her hair. “I know, I know. I’m the worst. Time for you to sleep.” He whispers back to her. She frowns, but she shuts her eyes, anyway. She’s not sure how long it takes: perhaps it’s minutes, maybe it was hours, but eventually she falls asleep.

—

Opening her eyes felt like literally crawling out of a grave when she finally does wake up, the only light shining was from a phone beside her. “Turn that damn thing off. It hurts,” Ches grumbles, the man beside her laying on top of her blankets complies. “What time is it anyway?”

“4 am, give or take.”

Zander’s answer only causes her to groan as she fixes her pillows the way she likes them. “Shit. No wonder I feel like I was run over by a freight train.” She continues to adjust her pillows, settling into a comfortable spot as she rolls over onto her back.

“No, I think that’s thanks to Club 33.” Zander gives her a pointed look. How did he even know she’d gone drinking there? That she had a membership at all for that matter. “I could pay for the entirety of my college tuition with how much you’ve spent on this trip. Couldn’t I?” There was something about his tone that feels off, that despite his words, it wasn’t the Disneyland trip he was frustrated with at the moment. “You’re spiraling again. The fancy trip, the mass text about Leo, the drinking. Fuck, everything that’s occurred since you came back to Luxor. Spring break, prom, open house. What’s going on?” Of course, he’d notice things weren’t right. Her luck couldn’t get any worse, could it?

“It’s the tenth anniversary of my mother’s death.” The excuse slides off her tongue quickly. But even in the dark, she could make out the look on his face. He knew she was lying, and yet she didn’t change her tune. She couldn’t. After what happened with Lucy, she wasn’t going to tell anyone about that ever again. “Zander, that’s all there is to everything. Drop it.”

He opens his mouth as if he had something to say, but he quickly shuts up. After a few seconds where it looks like he’s not going to push, she takes a breath. But her relief is short-lived when he finally speaks. “Has anyone ever mentioned you crinkle your nose when you lie?”

“I do not!” She protests immediately. Did she really have such an obvious tell? “I’m not lying. That’s really all there is to it. Please.” The word sounds like a plea, and as she hears it, she can’t help but dread him picking up on it. She didn’t need to give him more to question when he was already treading into territory she couldn’t stand to think about. How could she discuss it again? She barely got through it with Lucy.

“Okay, I just have one more question then. Why is your father spending so much money on you lately? Taking the entire school to Disneyland, a suite just for you to hide in, him showing up to graduation. Your Club 33 membership cost could be a household’s entire annual salary, There has to be a reason he’s tossing money at you so aggressively.”

The question causes her blood to run cold. What was she supposed to say? That his father suddenly saw the error of his ways became invested in her life. The lie didn’t even seem plausible, let alone believable. The entire truth hurt too much to think about; she didn’t want to get into the reasons. The best she could offer was the truth, without any details. “He feels guilty.”

“About your mom?” Zander’s voice is so soft, and as the slight hint of guilt starts to leak into it, she can feel her heart starting to break. He was too good to her, too safe, and he doesn’t even hesitate as she moves closer to him on the bed and tries to crawl into his arms. As she starts to sob, he just accepts that right now she needed someone to hold her. “I’m sorry, Chessie. I-”

“It’s not about maman, Zan. When I was home I had to attend his dinner parties, and his VP, he-” She can’t even finish getting the words out as she starts to sob, as the panic sets in and she clings tighter to him. The thought of that evening made her wish she could carve off her skin as if it’d erase the memories of that night from her mind. The more she remembers, the harder it feels to gasp for air, and the faster she breathes as her eyes rapidly search for the nearest escape route.

“Ches, hey. It’s okay, you’re okay.” His voice is gentle as he starts stroking her hair again. For a moment, she goes completely still as she tries to remind herself this was Zander. “You’re safe, I promise. Nobody’s going to hurt you here.” She focuses on the sound of his voice as he tries to comfort her, and slowly, but surely, oxygen is easier to catch. The fear was still lingering; the urge to flee and never look back was overwhelming. “You don’t have to say anything, okay.”

“Look where not saying anything got me, Zander.” She snaps at him, the words just coming out suddenly. “He fucking raped me, and I have to- no, I’m expected to just stay quiet and move past it. Sometimes I’m not sure if the money is because my dad is upset it happened or to keep my mouth shut. You know, he was the one who made me drop the charges.” She still could remember that talk with her father. She could shut her eyes and picture it as if it was five minutes ago still, her father pacing around the living room in their penthouse looking almost as disheveled as he had at her mother’s funeral, practically begging her to let him handle this behind closed doors because he didn’t think she’d survive a trial. “Said he thought I’d kill myself if we went to trials, he handled it behind the scenes.”

“It’s out of love, either way, I think,” Zander says gently as if he’s not sure he’s supposed to speak at all. Honestly, Ches isn’t sure she wants him to talk either. The last time she’d discussed it, she hadn’t felt any better. In ways, she felt worse - guilty for burdening Lucy with something so heavy she couldn’t explain to anyone else.

“I know.”

The words are hard for her to get out, even if it’s the truth. She knew that her father loved her, even when it sometimes felt like he didn’t care nearly enough. Perhaps, in its own fucked up way, this was his way of showing he cared. Her father’s actions weren’t out of ill intent.

“I’m sorry that you’re going through this, you had a horrible year.” He wasn’t wrong about that, the more she thought about it, the more she realized seventeen had truly sucked. “But, you can’t destroy yourself in your attempts to cope. I can’t figure out how you got back without hurting yourself. That’s an issue.”

“It’s not a deal-breaker.” As Ches continues to calm down slowly, the realization she’s trembling begins to dawn on her. “I don’t care if I die, you know.”

“Well I do. Lucy and Avery do, and Elliot would be devastated, so that’s not an option, for starters. So this shit needs to stop.” Zander’s voice is firm, almost like when Logan had no other choice but to scold them. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but this isn’t the answer, Hailey.”

For a brief moment, she considers saying something about her first name, but she doesn’t. She was too drained to fight with him over it. The use could be tolerated for one night. “You can’t tell anyone, Zander. The only person who knows is Lucy.” She says instead as she pulls herself out of his arms to lay in bed again.

“And your therapist?”

“Doesn’t know anything either.” She shuts her eyes as she says the word. Of course, she didn’t go to her therapist about this; it felt too painful to revisit, too heavy to bring words to at times. “Just promise me, Zander.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.” She can feel him moving on the bed beside her to start to get up as he says the words, her arm quickly reaching out to stop him. “But, I think you need to talk to your therapist. And-”

“Okay.” She agrees. “But, can you stay? I don’t want- I can’t be alone right now. Please?” The boy stops trying to move at her confession, the admittance she needed someone there. “I think being alone is a bad idea, and I don’t think I can ask Elli to-”

“I’ll stay, as long you need me to.”

She doesn’t say anything as she moves her arm back to her side of the bed. For a moment, she wonders if he’ll question it, but soon the only noise is the sound of his phone unlocking as the two settle into a comfortable silence.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

reader being best friends with carter while he's chasing serena but also being in love with him?

CARTER BAIZEN APPRECIATION SQUAD ASSEMBLE! (i promise i’ll get to non carter requests)

y/n and carter had known each other for a while

they had met during a summer at the hamptons when his parents invited her family over for dinner

she had helped him inside the house after returning from a particular night out which to his parents was a meeting with some of his friends to go over stuff for the new school year

from then onwards carter and y/n became friends

he would meet her in the back of her parents apartment and the two would drive around the nights of new york talking about their problems

it hadn’t taken long for y/n to fall in love with him

he was an attractive, smart man who seemed to have more goals other than the vapid boys she knew from st.judes

it wasn’t like she expected him to return her affections. she was his sister’s age, 3 years younger. she knew he wouldn’t be interested so she hid it deep inside her heart where no one would see it

after all she’d rather have a tiny bit of his heart than have to pretend he never existed

maybe she should’ve seen it coming that he would leave, but she didn’t and one afternoon as she knocked on his door to pick him up to go for their weekly lunch at his favourite spot was the moment she wished she could’ve avoided it

it was his mother who had opened the door, tight smile on her face, pity in her eyes as she stared at the girl in front of her “do you not know, sweetheart?” “am i supposed to know something?” “he left. says he doesn’t want anything to do with this family anymore”

her heart stopped for a while, the buzzing sound of her mind wondering why, why he wouldn’t tell her

it had been his sister caroline who had helped her through it, telling her he wasn’t even worth the hazzle, to instead focus on the much more attractive boys her age attending st.judes

y/n wasn’t interested but as time flew by she slowly learned to accept that he wasn’t returning

she had built a life for herself, becoming one of constance’s shining stars holding near perfect grades

she had also built a friendship with blair waldorf after serena had left her, both of them bonding over having someone leaving unexpectedly 

“my mum was supposed to host a tea party for CeCe and she went to paris. usual” “do you need any help?” “wanna come? might make it less boring besides you still need a date for cotillion“ “well not everyone can have nate archibald for a date” “i am pretty lucky aren’t i? but you need a date, you cannot not have an escort. even serena is taking ... dan” “alright, i’ll go to the tea party” “perfect”

she should’ve not gone. she should’ve just accepted caroline’s invitation to go shop for a cotillion dress but she didn’t. she couldn’t see the future.

as she walked off the lift into the van der woodsen’s apartment, a familiar face showed, sat in a couch surrounded by girls 

“y/n” blair rushed over to her side “i don’t want to frighten you but ... carter’s here” “i’ve seen.” “i want you to know that i didn’t invite him. cece invited him, she wants him to be serena’s escort.” “that’s fine” “are you sure? i could kick him out” “that’s fine”

it wasn’t fine. 

she spent the whole tea party as further from him as possible, not sure of what to say to him or how to even react

although she had to admit it broke her heart that he wasn’t interested in even talking to her, instead looking her way and immediately turning to receive the praise of several girls

“he’s not even that attractive” blair rolled her eyes at her minions which were fauning over him “urgh, imagine being attracted to a wannabe matthew mcconaughey” “you don’t have to make me feel better, blair” “look at that last season suit. disgusting” 

she stayed until the end of the party, chatting up with several people who came to ask about her family business and by the end of the party she had even started to help the maids bring dirty dishes into the kitchen

“you were always an odd one, i have to give you that” a voice made her drop the porcelain onto the soapy water and turn her face towards its direction. carter. “y/n, i’m really sorry” “yeah i could tell since you didn’t call or write after you left” “i didn’t have any way to contact you” “you didn’t even tell me you were leaving carter. do you know how it felt walking up to your house and having your mother tell me you left?” “i had to go y/n” “so have i, carter.”

she didn’t want to speak with him, she didn’t want to fall back into the state

at least she had decided not to speak with him until nate punched him at cotillion 

“you look like shit” “thanks, y/n.” “i gotta say, i wanted to do that myself. nate stole that away from me” “how long are you gonna be upset with me, y/n?” “as long as i want” “c’mon, let’s do something together” “i said i would act civilised with you not lobotomised” “c’mon, y/n. i’ll pay” “do you even have any money? didn’t your parents cut you off?” “i’ll find a way” “... fine. the bar of the lotte new york palace

blair and caroline had told her not to go but she thought that it would be better to get it over and done with. to call it water under the bridge and not have him haunt her what ifs anymore

she found him at the bar of the palace, black suit on. he never used to wear suits, she still remembers him in his messy st. judes uniform, undone tie all the time

“you came” “i said i would” “i know you have every single reason to hate me but i miss you, y/n. i really do. i have so much to tell you” “some people would use a journal” “i fucked up, i know but ... second chance? you can punch me too if you want” “that’s a really good offer, i think i’m gonna pounder it” “how about i pick you up tomorrow night? late driving around new york” “you got yourself a deal, baizen”

soon enough she found herself in the same situation, still in love with him

he was still the same man, still the same chuckle, talking passionately about his projects, making stupid jokes

but one thing still was the same, the same thing she didn’t want to accept, he still would never reciprocate her feelings

“y/n, i can’t pick you up tonight. i have a date with serena.” “serena van der woodsen?” “yeah, do you mind?” “uh ... no... sure, go on”

her blood boiled out of jealousy

she always thought the reason he would never reciprocate her feelings was because she was younger but serena, serena was the same age as her and it stung, it stung so badly

she ended up at the house of the same person who could understand being jealous of serena : blair waldorf’s

“oh, please, y/n. seriously? carter? he’s so ... boring. god” “well i’m sorry blair not everyone can have their first time in the backseat of a limo with chuck bass” “hey now that nate is single maybe you should go out with him” “i’m not gonna go out with nate” “why you two would make such a nice couple” “i’m not in love with nate” “i’m sorry, y/n.” 

she pretended it was okay

she would smile whenever he talked about serena

she would be next to him when she undoubtedly got him inside her petty little games with chuck

she would be there when he quit her and she would be there when he took her back

she was there for everything until one morning where she was woken up by someone banging on her door

“nate?” “something happened and you might want to sit down” “what happened? are you okay?” “serena left with carter last afternoon” “what do you mean?” “they left y/n, together.”

suddenly she found herself in the same spot she had been years ago abandoned

he returned later that summer during the races but this time she didn’t forgive him

she spent the day with dan and blair, mindlessly listening to serena talking about how carter followed her but she knew better

she knew they’d be back together and surely again they were

carter should feel happy, serena was back but he didn’t feel better

he felt ... empty, like something was lacking

whenever he laid down next to her and feel asleep he dreamed of y/n

he dreamed of her vintage oversized tees reaching her knees as she read her favourite books in his study 

he dreamed of her laughter whenever he took her to a driver in theatre, fingers holding popcorns to her lips

he dreamed of her red tinted lips during festivities, dancing under streetlights singing showtunes, bitting her lips whenever she had a test

he convinced himself it was just missing her but part of him knew it wasn’t that

he should be with serena, her family approved, his family approved

so he stuck it out, convincing himself this was a phase just a phase

as serena dumped him on the side of the street he looked at the streetlight, remembering y/n in an oversized cardigan jumping puddles over it, twirling around it playfully

“what am i doing?”

he rushed down the streets of the upper east side like a mad man

he’d never walked this long

but he kept on walking, he kept on walking until he saw her apartment

he knocked on the door for what felt like a hundred times 

“i’m coming” he could hear her sleepy voice from the other side and sure enough, soon enough the sound of her steps became too loud and she opened the door “carter, what are y...” “let me just say something okay? then you can shut the door” “it’s 1 AM” “please” “20 seconds” “i’m sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry, i should’ve told you when i left years ago, i shouldn’t have left with serena. i should’ve stayed with you. you always listened to me, you always believed in me and i always let you down. i miss you, i miss having fights with you about star wars plots, speaking with you on the phone at 5 AM, trying to make you laugh when you were upset. i miss seeing your sleepy smile every single morning, i miss you” “carter” “all this time being with her i just kept thinking about doing those things with you. taking you to cotillion, dance with you, be at your graduation and help you move into college, take you to fancy bars and restaurants, buy you flowers and everything else money can afford and i missed out on it, i missed out on it and i cannot give them to you. but here’s what i propose ... i wanna be there when you graduate from college, i wanna be there to help you move into your very first apartment, i want to be there when you start your first job, i wanna be there for you.” “you’re not one to stick around, carter” “let me try, please let me try” “isn’t this your third chance?” “i will ask you for a million chances as long as i get to see you for the rest of my life” 

[gallavictorious]

”You going out? I thought you weren't working tonight.”

Mickey looks up from his tie to see Ian leaning against the doorframe, in uniform and with his hair neatly slicked back.

”Nah, it isn't work. Well, not exactly,” he says, finishing the knot and taking a step back to admire the result in the mirror. He's getting pretty good at this. Lots of practice in the last few months, ever since he took the bodyguard gig officially on the road. Clients like it when he wears a tie. ”You know the chick I've been babysitting for the past few weeks, the one whose stalker I caught trying to climb in through the fucking window? She and her dad's taking me to some fancy place, uh... Piccolo something, to thank me. Since you're working the late shift, I thought – ”

Ian interrupts, straightening: ”Piccolo Sogno? Like, that really romantic place down in West Town? You telling me the girl who has a crush on you is taking you there?” He pauses, looking at Mickey with a cross between disbelief and bemusement. ”Are you going on a fucking date?”

Mickey stares at him. ”What the hell are you talking about?” he demands. Crush? Date? What?

---

The chick's name is Charlotte Eckerton.

He was supposed to call her Ms. Eckerton, she insisted he say Charlie, and what he actually went with was usually some classic television reference that she didn't get, or – when she's was being particularly annoying – ”hey, brat”. She was probably no worse than any other spoiled little North Side princess, but Mickey sure as hell didn't get why anyone, no matter how loony, would want to stalk her, because literally all she did was go to class, study, shop, and party with her equally irritating friends. Oh, and endlessly updating her Instagram stories with every last detail about her fascinating life, of course. He put a quick stop to that, because continually announcing your location to the public when a deranged psycho was stalking you was... well, let's face it, it was about as stupid as he expected from these people.

She threw a tantrum when he swapped her phone for one with restricted access to social media apps, and she tried to give him the slip at least twice a day for the first four days, going as far as paying some other goons to attack him while she made a run for it. She was not completely stupid, he had to give her that, and he was beginning to understand why her father had come to him rather than hire a more well-established firm. The girl was a complete nuisance, and occasionally quite clever about it. Clearly needed someone wise to all the tricks, and unafraid to rein her in and tell her in no uncertain terms when she was being an idiot.

Mr. Eckerton was loaded, having made his fortune doing some IT-shit or other, and for the kind of money he was offering, Mickey was prepared to put up with a quite a lot of hare-brained shenanigans, as well as hanging out at the Magnificent Mile afternoon after afternoon, and listening to the brat's endless babble about... hair? Make-up? Bands? Whatever. He didn't really pay attention; he'd have needed to be paid hell of a lot more than he was to do that.

After a week or so of thwarted escape attempts Charlotte had exchanged overt defiance for a more subtle approach, trying to throw him off his game by suddenly gifting him stuff, like a dark gray shirt ”that goes really well with your eyes”. He took the shirt, because it was pretty nice, as was the watch and the stupidly expensive hair-product she produced in the following days. He was a little insulted she thought he could be bought so easily, though; she'd have needed to double her father's money, at the very least – or gotten him a nice car. He had said as much to Ian, who had eyed the gifts with an unreadable expression on his face, and had failed to comment.

When bribery too proved a failed tactic she started asking a lot of personal question instead, fishing for weaknesses to exploit. Her strategy was pitifully obvious, however, and Mickey gave her nothing but monosyllabic responses. Finally, she resigned herself to being stuck with him for the time being, and mercifully stopped pestering him about letting her go to whatever concert or party was happening that night. She still dressed up and put on elaborate make-up every damned evening, though, even if it was just the two of them chilling at her place, but he supposed it was something for her to do. Fuck knew he could sympathize with the boredom of being locked up.  

So that was Charlotte, spoiled and stubborn and maybe a little bit clever underneath it all. Not the worst person he could imagine babysitting, not by a long shot, but not one he'd think back on either, now that the job was done. He probably wouldn't even have accepted her and her father's invitation to take him out for a meal, if it hadn't been for Ian's occasional insistence that he needed to be ”nicer to his clients” and ”cultivate professional contacts”. This only made his husband's reaction to the whole situation all the more annoying –

”It is not a date,” Mickey says flatly, irritation coloring his voice, because Ian is smiling at him in all too knowing way. ”I probably saved her fucking life, she wants to buy me dinner. That doesn't make this a – Listen, her fucking father is going to be there.”

”Yeah, sure he will.” Ian crosses his arms, still smirking like an asshole, but there's just a hint of an edge to the smile now. ”Does she even know you're gay?”

Mickey rolls his eyes. ”Of course she fucking knows, because I open every damned conversation with 'Hi, I'm Mickey and I love cocks' like a normal fucking faggot. Jesus. It hasn't come up. She knows I'm married.”

”Like that's gonna – ”

They're interrupted by the door to Liam's room opening, the boy stepping out to give them his very best judgemental look. ”Why are you yelling? I need to study.”

”Oh, it's nothing,” Ian says casually. ”Just Mickey having a date tonight. With a teenage girl.”

”She’s nineteen, and I am not – !”

Liam frowns. ”Is this like when he was fake-dating Byron to make you jealous? Are you going to go on a fake date too? With a girl?”  He pauses, frown deepening: ””Is there a Grindr for straight people?”

Ian's spared a reply as Lip comes up the stairs with Freddie in his arms. He pauses on the top step, brow furrowing as he takes in the scene: Mickey, dressed to the nines and with a scowl to match, Ian smiling with his arms crossed, and Liam wearing his trademark look, the one that says that everyone else is a bit of an idiot. ”What's going on here?”

”Mickey's going on a date with a woman.” Liam offers it readily, a true believer in the free dissemination of information. Probably something he picked up at private school.

Mickey gives a half-choked groan. ”It's not a – ! You know what, fuck you.” With one last glare and an extended middle finger, Mickey grabs his jacket and storms off.

Ian, Liam and Lip watch him go, nonplussed. Lip glances at Ian: ”Huh. Less than a year of marriage and you've already turned him off men.”

”Yeah, well. Have to admit I didn't see that one coming.”

---

The restaurant is fancy as hell, linen cloth and candlelight, one person to take his coat and another to show him to the table. Charlotte is already there, blonde hair pulled back in a strict ponytail, something expensive glittering around her neck and drawing attention to the generious helping of skin her lowcut black dress offers.

The table is set only for two. Mickey frowns as he takes his seat. ”Your father coming?”

”No.” The smile she gives him is very innocent. ”He got held up in a meeting, so he called to say he can't make it. He said to tell you sorry, and to thank you so much for your service.”

Listen to those alarm bells going off all at once... Mickey tries to mentally shake it off. It's nothing to worry about. Just Ian putting weird ideas into his head. ”Uh, yeah. Don't worry about it. Just doing my job.” He waves for the waiter to bring him a beer. He does need a drink, quite urgently.

Charlotte leans forward, looking up at him from under half-closed lids with a very intense expression on her perfectly moisturized face. ”You were so brave when Smithson attacked me. I don't know how I can ever thank you enough. You know, my father is paying for this meal, but if there was something else you wanted... ?”

And that's her grabbing the olive from her drink and very deliberately pushing it past her lips and that's... that's her foot, sans shoe, slowly sliding down his calf.

Oh. Fuck. This is a date. Inwardly groaning, Mickey rubs a tired hand over his face, before looking straight at Charlotte: ”You know I'm fucking gay, right? Like, married to a man?”  Jesus, Ian is never going to let him hear the end of this...

Charlotte reels back just a little, mouth falling slightly open. He's prepared for shock, disgust even – but instead a dreamy look appears on her face. ”Oh my god, that is sooo hot!”

What?

---

He feigns sleep when Ian returns home a quarter past midnight, but his husband isn't fooled. ”How was your date?” he murmurs as he slips in under the covers and wraps his arms around Mickey from behind.

”Shut the fuck up.”

A quiet laugh, a kiss pressed to his shoulder. ”I take it you're sticking with cocks for now then.”

And sure, there's a teasing edge to the words, and sure, he'll hear about this for-fucking-ever, but... Mickey turns around, facing Ian. ”I guess I am,” he agrees, reaching up to run his thumb over Ian's cheek.

Whatever mischief is there fades from Ian's eyes, from his voice: ”I'm glad,” he says simply, and pulls Mickey in for a kiss.

Yeah. So is he.

---

This one goes out to @starkcravingmad​  who suggested a teenage charge crushing on a clueless Mickey, in a reply to this post. I know you didn't ask me to write it, and I have no idea if this is even vaguely related to what you had in mind, but for better or worse you planted the seed, and here we are. Didn't intend for it to get this long, or this silly, but yeah.

[ladyanput]

Seeing Green Ch.3

Well, here we go guys, a double chapter in one. I would like to thank everyone for having patience with me.

[[MORE]]

Marinette smiled to herself after her date with Damian. It had been so wonderful, he was wonderful, a perfect gentleman. His smile had sent her heart fluttering, something that hadn't been accomplished since… Since Adrien.

Mari's smile dimmed slightly, but she shook her head. No! Adrien would not ruin this for her. At least this guy, this wonderful, handsome guy had an actual romantic interest in her. It would be different, she wouldn't be chasing a dream, she'd be chasing a reality, something within her reach.

"Tikki, I think I want to go out for a bit. Clear my head before bed. That date with Damian… I'm a bit restless now." Marinette stretched, now dressed in comfortable pajamas. The teen headed to her hotel room window and opened it. She winked at her Kwami. "Alright, Tikki, Spots on!"

As Ladybug leapt into the night, pulling herself to a ledge cross from her room. She knew she shouldn't be Ladybug, not in Gotham, as she should be in Paris, but it just felt so odd not to be out on patrol. She thanked whatever god there was that she had gotten Viperion and Ryuko back on as full time heroes. It had made her stress of leaving Paris on this trip a little less stressful, and having Klaaki helped when she had to purify the akumas. 

As she landed on the rooftop, she barely avoided landing in some kind of white substance on the ledge. She frowned at it, silently noting that this must be a popular place for birds, before she took that moment to step onto the center of the roof and take in the city. It was such a condensed place, full of tall buildings, of noisy cars and pollution. It was worlds away from Paris.

So lost in her thoughts, she almost didn't hear the sound of someone landing on the roof behind her. She turned and spotted a red and black caped figure. Her brows rose as she realized that this was one of Gotham's vigilantes. She wracked her brain right quick, and a name came to mind; Red Robin.

"Can I help you with something?" He began advancing towards her, and Ladybug's defenses went up. Shit, she wasn't supposed to be spotted. His frown was more evident as he drew near, crossing his arms. "I don't think I've ever seen you around Gotham before."

"Please, I… I am friendly. I just came to America for a small vacation." Marinette groaned mentally at the lie as she held her hands up, showing she wasn't armed. But she could see he had weapons on him, and that made the hairs on the back of her head stand on end. She could probably take him in a fight, but she didn't want to risk hurting one of Batman's partners, especially since he was part of the Justice League. Whether they believed her situation in Paris or not, she still needed some help. "A- and to speak to Monsieur Batman. I am Ladybug, a hero from Paris. We really need help, things are getting out of hand!"

"What do you mean? What's going on in Paris?" He was silent the entire time Ladybug spoke, explaining in detail what had been going on for the past few years. She could feel as Red Robin glanced her over, calculating something. He then tilted his head, as if listening to something, before he uncrossed his arms and they dropped to his sides.  "Well, Ladybug, while that tale seems hard to believe… Batman will meet you here tomorrow. If you get up to any funny business, we won't hesitate to take you out, understand?"

"Oui, Monsieur. Merci." Ladybug's shoulders sagged in relief. It had been a split minute cover story, but now it had probably given her the opening she had so desperately needed. She smiled at him, and he brushed past her, heading towards the ledge facing the hotel.  "Oh, be careful! I think some birds made a mess there, you wouldn't want to step in it!" 

Red Robin froze and glanced down at where he was about to step. He stared for what felt like several minutes, before he tensed and let out a curse that made Ladybug flush. He knelt down, holding what she saw was a cotton swag, swiping up some of the substance, then putting it in a glass vial attached to his belt. Without another glance back at her, he was gone, leaving Ladybug standing there, very confused. With a shake of her head, she turned around and went back to soaring across Gotham with her yo-yo.

…

Nino frowned as he watched his girlfriend sitting across the table from him. He had wanted a nice dinner with her, at the hotel's restaurant, but here she was, either typing away on her cell phone, or telling him about something new Lila had told her. He felt himself getting a headache. It was just non stop with his girlfriend and Lila, the world never seemed to go still, it was constantly in this spiralling vortex.

"I mean, I can't believe she's help Batman! THE Batman!" Alya exclaimed, her eyes lit up with excitement and eagerness, as she finished posting the story on the Ladyblog. She didn't notice Nino's blank look as she squirmed in her seat, beaming. "Imagine helping in take down Two Face in such a way, Nino! She's so awesome, I just can't believe she chose me to be her best friend! I mean, she could have chosen anyone, but she chose me! She's even going to let me do another interview with her tonight, about the time she got all streamy in a hot tub with Damian and his brother Tim…"

"Alya, babe… Can you please put the phone away? I wanted to have a nice dinner with you, it's been forever since we had a nice date." Nino reached out and took her free hand, giving it a light squeeze. Alya gave him a warm smile and set her phone aside, and they both glanced at their menus. "See anything you'd like?"

"Oh, steak frites would be nice. Did you know Lila has an uncle who runs a farm that gives every high end restaurant their meat? She's met all of the world famous chefs, maybe next time she can get us into a fancy restaurant for another date!" Alya grinned at Nino, who felt his headache worsen. They rarely had alone time together, but even when they did, Lila always seemed to somehow come up, whether it be in conversation or her calling them in the middle of the date. 

"I think we can manage without Lila, babe. I think the salmon would be nice." Nino looked up from his menu, only to see Alya back on her phone, hearing the notifications dinging frantically. "Babe, your phone.."

"Hold on, Nino, Lila's just telling me that Damian's going to take her to a high class party tomorrow night! She's sooo lucky, having him take her to the fanciest restaurant in Gotham."

"Alya, can we-" 

"Do you think maybe she'll introduce us to him? I'd love to get an interview with THE son of Bruce Wayne! I'd be the first to get his photo, the Ladyblog would blow up on a national level!"

"Alya-"

"Maybe I could get interviews from.the entire Wayne family! And when her and Damian get married, Lila will let me cover their wedding-"

"ALYA, ENOUGH ABOUT LILA!"

A pin dropping could have been heard in that restaurant. Nino had jumped to his feet and trembled with visible annoyance, while Alya sat there, clutching her phone tightly in her hands. She frowned and opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Nino stormed out of the dining room, leaving its patrons staring in his wake.

Once out of the dining room, Nino felt like crying. He had planned a nice evening, he had combed his hair back, had dressed up nicely, but it still wasn't enough. He didn't feel like enough for Alya anymore. She always seemed to be grasping for whatever big and shiny thing came next, whatever would make the most tantalizing news story.

He soon came into the bar area, leading to the hotel lobby, when he spotted Miss Bourbon. She was sitting at a table, nursing a glass of wine as she looked miserable. He hesitated, telling himself to continue back to his room, to cool off. He had never actually talked to the TA personally, but he thought she seemed nice, though very tough. He had felt bad when Lila had told Alya that the woman had been trying to escape Canada, to escape a scandal with sleeping one of her male students. Boy, that rumour had spiralled out of control and had nearly cost the woman her job, but soon seemed improbable when it was found out she worked at an all girl's academy.

Nino found himself walking over to her, meeting her inhumanly purple eyes as he took a seat across the table from her as she sipped her wine.

 "Mr. Lahiffe, is everything alright? You seem rather miffed." Eva set down her glass of wine and sat to attention. It sort of surprised Nino at how quick she was to come to his aid, that she actually did care, despite the poison Lila had spread. He clenched his hands ever so slightly, looking down at the table, frowning. "Nino?"

"Miss Bourbon… You know Lila is lying, right? I've known for a long time, but she made Alya so happy, but when things got out of hand and I tried suggesting things might be false…" Nino shut his eyes tightly, letting out a shuddering breath. "I don't recognize my girlfriend anymore. I'm just so drained all the time, and I feel like my thoughts and interests don't matter anymore."

He opened his eyes again, when he felt Miss Bourbon take his hand and give it a small squeeze.

"Have you told anyone else about this, Nino?" Eva's voice was soft, non judgemental. "Now, usually I'd say try talking to her about it. But from what I've seen,she brushes you off, huh?"

"I tried talking to Adrien, but he keeps saying that it'll turn out, that since we really love each other, we'll make it through." Nino glanced at the glass of wine between then, and sighed, putting his head in his hands. Silence hung over them for a long time.

"Now, I don't have a track record of relationships I can give you advice from, but I think you already know what to do, Nino. You don't need me to tell you."

Nino glanced up and smiled at her, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. The duo never knowing a certain Italian girl watching them from the lobby.

…

The next morning, Marinette was still grinning as she made her way down to the lobby. She practically skipped her way out of the elevator, her mood slightly lifted more when she saw that some of her classmates were already there, meaning she hadn't been left behind again. 

"Good morning, Alix." Marinette grinned as the girl spotted her and headed her way, though her steps faltered slightly when she spotted Kim, Juleka and Rose were headed her way. She tensed, dread clawing its way up her spine as they were upon her. "Oh.. Hello, everyone."

Their expressions were unreadable, before Rose's eyes flooded with tears and she threw herself into Marinette's arms and began to sob. It was then she realized that their expressions were not guilt ridden.

"I'm s- so-o sorr-ry Marinette!" Rose blubbered out, the tears dripping down her sweet face rapidly. Marinette opened her mouth to speak, but found herself speechless. 

"We were really stupid, Marinette." Juleka spoke up as she awkwardly rubbed Rose's back, meeting Mari's gaze. Then her voice trembled as when she spoke again. "We were horrible to you, over something that could be easily disproved."

"We all did some very stupid shit." They all glanced over to the elevators, just as Nino stepped into the lobby, his face clouded with shame. "I was the worst, dudette… We've known each other for so long, but… I threw that all away, didn't I?"

"We all should have listened to you, Mari. You'd have no reason to lie, we just all thought it was because if Adrien at first, but then things escalated so fast." Kim muttered, running his fingers through his hair, looking rather distressed.

"Yeah, you all should have listened to me." Marinette finally spoke after a few beats of uncomfortable silence. She gave Rose's back a gentle rub before she stepped away to cross her arms, closing herself off to them. Her expression hardened as she glared at her classmates. "Most of you had known me for years, yet you thought I'd act that way? While I appreciate your apologies, I'm not forgiving any of you. Yet."

Tikki was proud of her Chosen in that moment. Marinette knew she had grown a spine, she wasn't going to be the people pleaser anymore, she had started thinking for herself for once. 

"I might, keyword being might, forgive you guys, eventually. But right now, nothing has really proven you guys won't turn on me again. I mean, honestly, look at Alya, Ivan, Mylène, Nathaniel, Max, and Sabrina. They're still lapping it all up, and one of them used to be my best friend! So I'm sorry, but I'm not going to forgive any of you just yet." Marinette shrugged at their slightly crestfallen expressions, ignoring the guilt in her gut. "But you guys actually have some redemption, at least you guys didn't know since the beginning, like Adrien."

The following silence as almost deafening, then Alix grabbed Marinette by the shoulders, her expression murderous. Marinette flinched, feeling her skin bruise under the girl's fierce grip.

"That son of a bitch knew this entire time?" Alix's voice was soft, but deadly, promising whoever would face her fury would taste blood that night. Marinette merely shrugged once again, looking indifferent to the fact.

    “He’s known ever since she came back to school. He told me to not expose her, that her lies would expose themselves.” She set her hands on her hips, a cold smile spreading across her face as she met Alix’s eyes. “Well, they’re sure as hell taking their time to expose themselves.” 

    Alix and the others looked as if they were about to explode, but it was cut off by the arrival of Lila and her court that were still trapped under her spell, while she hung off of Adrien’s arm. 

    ��Funny,’ Marinette smirked at the ground, raising a brow ‘,for a girl engaged to Damian Wayne, she’s very friendly with other guys.’

    “So Damidarling took me to this amazing restaurant, the lobster was absolutely divine!” Lila cooed, while her noticeably smaller court showered her with praises. She soaked it all up, beaing, though her eyes narrowed when she saw the people surrounding Marinette. Marinette could see the girl sharpening her claws as she sneered at them, “Oh, Marinette, how was your date with the intern? I hoped you enjoyed whatever rundown café his salary could afford.” 

    “I don’t think they even went to a café, they probably ate out of the trash.” Sabrina chuckled, with Alya letting out an amused snort. This was all white noise to Marinette, so she turned away and met Nino’s pained gaze, and it was obvious what he was going to do, once he got up the nerve. 

    “Good morning, everyone!” Miss Bustier strode in, beaming at her students as they watched as Miss Bourbon followed soon after, looking exhausted and drained. “Now, I know you’re all rather excited to be in a new city, so I thought that since we’re not leaving for Gotham City Park until around lunch time, I made arrangements for us to go to one of the shopping malls, so you all can have a morning of free time.”

    Many faces lit up with excitement, and Mari couldn’t deny that the thought was really enticing. She had wanted to see the fashion of Gotham, maybe see if she could get any inspiration for some new designs, maybe something gritty and rock ‘n’ roll for Uncle Jagged.

    The class soon arrived at the mall ,Miss Bustier giving them a time and place to meet at so that they could go to their planned picnic. 

    Marinette wandered off on her own, not wanting to be stuck with listening to Lila and her tales of Damian Wayne. She felt bad for the guy, she’d hate to see him meet Lila at the gala and get taken in by her lies.

    “Marinette?” Damian had just stepped out of a store, his eyes widening a fraction, before his face melted into a smile. He strode over to her, carrying a wrapped box under one arm. “Good morning, Angel. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

    “D-Damian!” Mari’s cheeks burned red and she grinned, stode towards him, letting out a giggle as he pulled her into a hug. “My teacher decided to let us have a free morning. I’m glad she did, now that I got to see you.”

    “You’re making me blush, Angel.” Damian’s smile widened, his cheeks going faintly rosy. When Marinette hooked her arm with his, she bit her lower lip when she felt the muscle through the material of his shirt. She felt bad, she was practically ogling him, but it was a physical attraction, right? Something completely natural. “Well, since you’re here, how about I accompany you until you have to leave? Maybe a fun little morning date?”

    “I’d love it.” Her heart fluttered, walking with him towards a clothes’ store. She shyly watched him from the corner of her eye as they entered. “I was hoping to see the fashion of Gotham, maybe I could make a new outfit design out of it.”

    “You’re into fashion design, right? I mean, last night you said you had designed some stuff for Jagged Stone, right? I looked it all up, you’re really talented, Marinette.” Damian’s voice was warm, gentle. He leaned down, kissing her softly on the cheek. At her look of surprise, he chuckled. “I never got to kiss you back last night, thought I’d return the favour. I hope I didn’t cross a line.”

    “No, not at all! I really liked it.” He smelled nice too, whatever his cologne was. Mari pressed her hands to her burning cheeks, trying to calm down the blush, only to nearly run into a mannequin. She squeaked, then took a step back .Her gaze sharpened slightly, and she pulled a sketchbook out of her purse, much to Damian’s surprise. God, she was adorable, with the spark of inspiration that lit up those blue eyes of hers. “Gotham fashion has a lot more dark colours, it’s more elegant, yet practical.”

    Damian smiled as he watched her sketch and mutter to herself, feeling himself feel content simply watching her. He had never felt this way around another girl before, he found most girls boring and annoying, as a matter of fact. But Marinette, she was different, he had never had the urge to kiss a girl before, but he found himself want to kiss her until she was breathless, but also to protect her from any harm. But he knew for a fact he shouldn’t rush into anything, that could be a grave mistake, he wanted to know everything about her first.

    “Marinette, I see you called your intern boy toy to join you!” Lila stepped from behind a rack, her smile sharp, ferocious, with Alya and Nino close behind. She fluttered her lashes at Damian, smiling prettily. “Wow, Mari, you must be really desperate to get Adrien’s attention if you decided to call an intern here.”

    “Mari, girl, this is getting a bit ridiculous. You need to learn that Adrien isn’t interested  in you, you need to stop using guys to make him jealous all the time.” Alya rolled her eyes, then returned her gaze to her phone, typing away frantically. Nino scowled at her, but said nothing.

    “I know how you must be feeling, Marinette, having both Adrien and Damian Wayne after me, but this jealousy of yours has gone too far.” Lila sneered down, her green eyes glinting with cruel intent. “But I guess a girl like you does deserve an intern, you both kiss ass to get where you want to be.”

    “Lila, that’s enough!” Adrien was storming up to the group, roughly shoving Damian away from Marinette, before taking the girl’s arm and pulling her close. “And you, leave Marinette alone! She’s not going to fall for your ploy, pretty boy. I won’t let you hurt her!”

    Adrien dragged the protesting Marinette out of the store, Damian and the others close behind. Adrien held Marinette close, then beamed down at her.

    “Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever. That guy won’t make you another notch on his belt, I promise.” Adrien smiled and cupped Mari’s cheek, failing to see the fury flaring in her eyes. 

    “Adrien, you have crossed a line…” Marinette whispered, fury radiating every from every word. She grabbed the wrist that was near her face tightly, squeezing it so hard that Adrien winced. “I don’t need protection, I am quite capable of taking care of myself, thanks.”

    “Marinette, stop hurting Adrien!” Lila screeched, drawing eyes from everyone. She soon burst into crocodile tears, leaning to Alya for support. “Alya, someone, stop her! Her jealousy is getting out of control! I knew she was bitter about me dating a Wayne, but this is too much!”

    “You’re not dating Damian Wayne, you little twit.” Damian snapped at Lila, advancing towards Adrien, his green eyes now ice cold. Marinette wrenched free from Adrien’s grip, only to rush to Damian, trembling in his arms as he pulled her close. He met Adrien’s gaze. “You’re Adrien Agreste, correct? I will have to have a talk with my father about having business with your brand in the future…”

    “Who the hell do you think you are? I don’t even know you!” Adrien snarled, his hands clenched into fists. That was HIS lady, HIS princess. Every part of him wanted to claw the boy’s eyes out and take Marinette somewhere safe, someplace private. She had been in love with Chat Noir once, she’d definitely love him again.

    “Do you not recognize a Wayne when you see one?” 

    Marinette blinked at the unfamiliar voice, seeing the horror on everyone’s face, then froze as she felt cold steel press against the back of her head.

    “Now, which one would be a better target? A Wayne, or his pretty little girlfriend?” Two-Face sneered down at the teens, while his goons had Lila, Alya, and Adrien at gunpoint. He slid a coin from his pocket and flipped it into the air. He caught in one hand, then grinned down at Marinette, then grabbed Damian and held a gun to the boy’s temple. “Rich boy it is. I must say, I’m surprised to see Damian Wayne out in public like this. Your girlfriend must be really special…”

    “Damian Wayne?” Mari met Damian’s eyes and felt the blood drain from her face. He was no intern, no… He was Damian fucking Wayne. She would have laughed, if not for the current situation. Her mind racing, her eyes quickly darted around the mall plaza. There was nothing within arm’s reach of her, so she had to deal with her smarts. But first, she had to get everyone else out of here. While Damian was shouting at Two Face, Marinette took the opportunity to tackle the only damned henchman the villain had brought with him, and pinned him to the ground. She looked up and met Alya’s face. “Go, get out of here, now!”

    Alya was immediately in gear, grabbing Adrien and Lila’s wrists, taking off towards the exit. Marinette’s relief was short lived when the guy smashed her across the temple, sending her crumpling to the ground. 

    “Marinette!” Damian shouted and tried to struggle from Two Face’s grip as he watched the blood ooze from his angel’s temple, spilling across the white tile floor.

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[myhockeyworld87]

One Year Down - Jamie Oleksiak

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 1,838

POV: Reader

Warnings: Maybe language

Notes: This was requested with the prompt:  I can't believe I got the first date, let alone a year. I hope you guys enjoy it. Happy Reading!

When you'd met Jamie at a party, the first question you asked was who was he? Then when you found that out, the next question was, if he was single? As luck would have it, he actually was. Which gave you, your next dilemma, how did you get him to ask you out? Well, it was the twenty-first century, you could take the initiative and ask him out instead. It took you two beers to build up enough courage to go up and talk to him. You waited for the perfect opportunity when he was over grabbing another beer and you just so happened to be empty as well. "Do you mind?" You asked as he reached into the cooler to take out two beers. "Thanks."

As he handed over the bottle, you saw him take in your appearance. "Not a problem, I'm Jamie by the way."

 "Nice to meet you, Jamie, I'm (Y/N)." You held out your hand for him and he shook, the contact sending a shock between you. It wasn't just static electricity either, it was that connection that you sometimes just got with someone and you hoped that he felt it too.

 "(Y/N)" He tested your name on his lips. "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl." You couldn't help the blush that rose to your cheeks. "You're even prettier when you do that."

 "And you're quite full of compliments." You tried to come off in a flirty manner, as you touched his arm.

 "Only to you."

 You were just about to say something super witty and clever, but then Tyler came up and threw his arm around you. "(Y/N), thank god you've finally made it. I've been playing beer pong with Katie and she's horrible. Please say you'll save me and be my partner."

 "You're the one who's horrible at beer pong. I swear you lose on purpose."

 "That's so not true. Jamie tell her, how awesome I am won't you?" Jamie seemed to be eyeing Tyler a bit skeptically, but eventually, he did answer the question.

 "What can I say, Tyler's a great guy."

 "See I told you, I'm the best."  You playfully swatted at his chest. Tyler was the reason you'd come to the party, the two of you had been friends for a while but it was never anything more. Which was your choice, you knew his reputation and didn't want to be another pawn in his little game. "Now come on let's go play." He hauled you away from Jamie and you were somewhat disappointed. It'd had taken you so long to get up the courage to talk to him and now, well now beer pong was taking precedence. You looked over at Jamie, and there was a slight frown on his face, which you supposed was a good sign.

 Throughout the game, you would try to steal little glances at the man that you'd rather be chatting with, but it seemed Tyler was intent on keeping your attention. Seggy by nature was a natural flirt, and even though you knew there would never be anything between the two of you Jamie obviously didn't. So when Tyler would grab you around the waist, you'd do your best to wiggle out of his grasp. Though you couldn't avoid him kissing you on the cheek and swinging you around in his arms when the two of you won. Drunk Seguin, was even more touchy-feely than he was sober.

 Now that the game was finally over, you thought you'd be able to make your way over to Big Rig, but it didn't seem to be in the cards. You'd plied his nickname out of Katie during beer pong, though she didn't reveal any more information as you two headed into the house to take on Chubbs and Seggy in a game of ping pong. As you walked passed the kitchen you noticed Jamie, hanging out with a couple of the other players and gave him a smile. The fact that he gave you one back, had your heart fluttering a bit. Katie had insisted that it was girls against boys, so this time you didn't have Tyler touching you all the time.

 Halfway through the game, you noticed that Jamie made his way into the room with a couple other guys. Katie pulled you aside, on the disguise of discussing strategy for the game. "Don't look now, but I think someone is checking you out?" Of course, you looked; isn't that what everyone did the moment someone said to not to? Jamie was smiling at you, eyes semi hooded, and you felt yourself blush under his gaze.

 "Do you really think he's interest?"

 "Please (Y/N) he'd be crazy not to be."

 "Are you two going to chat all day or play?" You heard Chubbs yell from the end of the table.

 "Keep your pants on, hot stuff." Katie shot back to her boyfriend. "Let's finish up this game and then we'll go talk to him."

 "Deal." The two of smacked ping pong paddles in solidarity then continued on with the game. It was down to game point, one more point and you and Katie would be declared the victors. Katie whacked the ball, sending it over the net straight to Tyler, who returned it with a spin that sent you stumbling back in order to get the victory. The paddle connected with the ball, just as you felt your foot slip on something leaving you off balance. Before you could hit the ground, strong arms caught you up, and you were hauled against someone's rock hard chest. As you lifted your eyes up you saw Jamie's face. "You ok?"

 Blinking rapidly a few times, you finally answered. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you."

 Katie turned around then shouting. "Yes, girl! Great shot we won!!!" She quickly took in that you were wrapped in Jamie's arms and winked at you as she headed over to Tyler and Jamie. "Nice game, losers!"

 Jamie steadied you on your feet finally, but let his hands linger on your hips. "Well looks like you got the winning shot."

 "Yeah, I guess it was worth the sacrifice. Though thanks to you I'm still in one piece." You realized; you still had the one hand on his bicep while the other clutched the paddle to his chest. "Sorry, for being such a klutz." You went to pull away, but his grip on you tighten.

 "Hey don't run away just yet. I thought maybe we could continue that conversation we started."

 "I'd like that. Just let me put this back." He let you go then, so you could drop the paddle back on the table, then the two of you headed outside, where you laughed and talked for the next couple hours. The party had pretty much come to an end, without either one of you noticing. "I really should be going." You admitted reluctantly.

 "Yeah me too. I didn't realize the time." He slid his hand over to take yours in his. "So I uh….I really had a nice time tonight." The two of you started walking out to where the cars were.

 "Yeah me too."

 "You wouldn't…I mean would you want to go out…like on a date…maybe tomorrow if you're not busy?" he'd alternated between looking at you and looking at the ground as he asked you.

 "I'd like that. I'd actually like it a lot."

 "Oh great." He stopped and smiled down at you then, his confidence back up, now that you'd said yes. "I'll pick you up, say six o'clock?"

 "Sounds perfect."

 "Great, I'll see you then." He made a move to leave, but you stopped him.

 "Uh Jamie, you kind of forgot something." He looked at you curiously. "My phone number maybe." You added with a small giggle.

 "Shit, so much for playing it cool." The two of you exchanged numbers and then went on the best first date of your life. Which then lead to an even better second date, and well now, you'd lost track of all the number of dates the two of you had been on, but tonight was something special.

 Jamie had planned the whole date out, he even bought you a fancy dress for the occasion and as you exited the bedroom, ready to head out for the night; he expressed his appreciation. "Wow babe, you look absolutely gorgeous. That dress is so much better on you than I ever imagined it would be."

 "Thanks, Jame. You have amazing taste."

 "I picked you didn't I." He stated as he looped his arms around you.

 "I could argue that I was the one who went after you. After all, I did come over to you first." You teased him back, running his tie between your fingers.

 "In the end, I was the one that asked you out though." You couldn't really argue with that, so you just nodded, agreeing with him. "I can't believe I got the first date, let alone a year. I thought for a while I'd lost you to Seguin."

 A slight chuckle escaped your lips. "You could never lose me to Tyler because he was never in the running. The minute I saw you, I was yours." He bent his head and kissed you then, his tongue twisting with yours until you broke apart. "You're going to ruin my lipstick if we keep doing this."

 "I plan on ruining a whole lot more tonight on our anniversary than just your makeup."

 "Mmmm, are you sure we're going out? Maybe we should just stay in." Your hands slid inside his suit coat to feel the hard muscles on his chest.

 "Even though I'd rather stay here, we are going to celebrate our one-year anniversary in style." He playfully smacked your ass then. "Now come on, let's go before I throw you over my shoulder and take you back to the bedroom."

 He laced his fingers with yours and the two of you headed out for the evening. He had rented out the back room at one of the fanciest restaurants in Dallas. There were flowers everywhere, beautiful roses you hoped you could take home. "Jamie, this is too much. These flowers are gorgeous."

 "There's three hundred and sixty-five of them. One for each day that we've been together." Jamie had to be the sweetest man on the planet, and you were so lucky that he was yours.

 "I love you, Jame."

 "I love you too, (Y/N)."

 Dinner was amazing, then afterward Jamie had someone come in with a guitar and serenade you, while the two of you danced. It was absolutely surreal. Dancing in his arms was magical and you were so thankful for two things. One, that you'd worked up the courage to make a move on Jamie that night, and two, you were glad you were a klutz and landed in his arms one year ago; for it had you in the same place right now, and there was nowhere else you wanted to be.