#my inner 11 year old has never been so happy in her life

[yourheartinyourmouth]

husbeast has been working a TON of overtime (going in two hours early most days, working six days a week every week for the whole summer…), and so insisted i be spoiled on my birthday and i got a birthday HAUL

so not only did he take me and our dear friend to see Barbie, i got this

SCREAMING the door on the Barbie dream house bag opens!! and i finally stopped being worried abt being a 36 year old who loves kuromi. cringe is dead, long live our interests and joys

[wardenparker]

Bones Full of Words, ch 11

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 11.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia, internalized fatphobia, self-esteem issues, canon typical violence* Fluff, sass, flirting, two very similar people finally on the same page. Vaginal sex, unprotected sex. Summary: Booted back to the States after the DEA puts him on notice, Javi runs into an unexpected and familiar face at his cousin's wedding. Notes: We are finally explicit for sexy soulmate reasons!! ✨🎉🎆 We're almost at the end of this one, my dears! Most likely one more chapter and then the epilogue.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10

Being back on Laredo is almost surreal. People know him, both from the somewhat reckless younger years spend here, and the scandal of leaving his fiancé at the altar, to the notoriety of hunting Pablo Escobar down. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t been there when the man had finally been shot down like the dog he was, he had been a part of it.

When he got the call, he had been in his second favorite place. The bar. Drinking and smoking, again, trying to not feel sorry for himself. Still on leave from the DEA, his hand slapped and his punishment was being left in limbo as he watched the news for anything Steve hadn’t told him.

“Javier.” His father’s voice finally cuts through his inner thoughts after the third time of having his name called. “You gotta get dressed, mijo.” The elder Peña insists. “Danny’s wedding is in an hour.”

Javi sighs as he blinks away the memories and looks over at the concerned frown on the elder Peña’s face. “Sure pop.” He doesn’t know why it really matters considering he’s not going to be wearing a suit. The event is very Texas, cowboy boots and jeans required, with the excepting of the happy couple.

“You should shave.” His father comments, more an instruction than a suggestion, as he moves through the living room and collects both his and his son’s forgotten coffee cups. “Three day stubble doesn’t look good on anybody. Your Ma told me that once.”

Javi sighs and swipes his hand over his jaw. He should shave, trim his mustache. “Yeah.” He agrees. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

“We have time.” Chucho chuckles. “I gotta look good too, you know. That takes longer.”

Javi snorts and slaps his father’s shoulder as he walks by. “Nah.” He teases. “You have natural beauty, pop.”

“Never hurts to put in a little effort, mijo.” Chucho reminds him, watching his son stride down the hall on long legs. Javi’s been adrift since he got sent home. He won’t talk about what happened and he doesn’t socialize with any of his old friends despite their best efforts. He needs to get out of the damn house, and his father is not above using his cousin’s wedding as a good excuse.

In the bathroom, Javi sighs as he stares a that mirror. The dark circles under his eyes have gone away, but there is a haunted look in them. Maybe since the day he put you on a plane to the States. That’s what Steve kept bugging him about since you left, telling him that he was an idiot for letting you go without working things out.

His cousin’s wedding is as much distraction as it is anything else. He spends his days on the ranch and not much of anywhere else, mostly to avoid the questions.

He turns away from the mirror and reaches into the bathtub and turns on the water. He might as well shower and get ready. His dad won’t leave him alone until he goes to the wedding and drinks at least two beers at the reception.

Besides, Danny had been insistent about wanting Javi to come. His older cousin had been a big influence on him and he had wanted to share this day with the man he privately called his hero. Not that he would ever say that to Javi’s face.

Stripping down, he steps into the shower and closes the curtain, groaning quietly at the heat from the water. He has spiraled. Closing his eyes, he leans against the wall.

When you had gone missing, he had gone to Don Berna and Judy Moncalo for anything they could give him. Willing to skirt the line of morality and legality for you had ended up biting him in the ass. He had gotten in too deep, trapped by that helping hand until they had turned on him. The bad thing is, as much as he regrets leaving Colombia in disgrace, he would do it again for you.

Murphy tried to help, in between being a pain in the ass. But the way everything ended up was just fucking ridiculous enough that there was no real way for him to help. So now he gets through each day at a time. Wondering if he’s ever going to figure out what the fuck comes next.

Cleaning up quickly, he steps out of the shower into the steaming bathroom and wipes the mirror clear. Staring at his reflection again. Licking his lips as he wonders what you are doing right now.

******

"Yes I promise to make it abundantly clear that I'm not your girlfriend." You roll your eyes in the hotel room's bathroom mirror as you carefully apply your lip liner. Make up isn't exactly a natural skill for you, but you've learned. "Nor will I cockblock you if you meet a cute girl. But if you bring somebody back to the hotel, I expect your ass to get a new room. I will not be locked out so you can get laid." He had begged you to come when the invitation came through. He'd been invited to the wedding of his best friend from his unit and he'd promised to pay every single dollar of the trip if you came as his plus one. As much as your brother wanted to be there to celebrate with his friend, he hated doing social things without a safety net.

"You're gonna love Danny." He promises, leaning against the door and grinning at you in the reflection of the mirror. He's wearing his white undershirt and his white dress trousers. "He's going to get drunk and call out 'Doc! Doc! I need an IV!'"

"And you will be nice to him because it is his wedding day," you remind him. After lip liner is lipstick, and you inspect yourself in the mirror. In the last few years you've lost weight and kept it off with a strict diet, and while you're not exactly thin you're definitely closer than you used to be. It's easier to be satisfied with your appearance, at least. The babydoll dress that you picked out for today looks cute with a pair of cowgirl boots and you've even been careful doing your hair.

It's just being in Texas that has you feeling on edge. Being so close to Javier's hometown.

“I’ve promised to make sure he’s sober enough to have a wedding night.” He snorts, shooting you a grin. “Does that count?”

"Yes, it is." Smoothing one hand down your dress, you do your best to mask your anxiety by shooing past your brother and heading out to grab your wrap and the happy couple's gift from your suitcase. "Are you ready?"

“Let me put on my blouse.” He huffs, moving over to where it is hanging up to keep it clean.

"I take the least amount of time to get ready of anyone in our family, I swear." It may or may not be true, but right now you feel like you sped through getting ready out of pure anxiety. Ever since you touched down on Texas soil this morning, you've been jittery.

“What’s got you all out of whack?” He frowns slightly as he pulls the blouse on and moves to the mirror to adjust.

"I'm fine," you huff, flopping down on the bed next to where you were just standing and dodging his skeptical eyebrow raise. "I'm fine, Michael."

“And that definitely means you are not fine.” He turns from the mirror and walks over to you, crouching down and taking your hands. He’s become a little bit of a worrier since you’ve come back from Colombia. “Talk to me, sis.”

"It's just...weird." Both of your brothers have doted on you since you came home, taking opposite strategies in helping you resettle yourself into a new life. Almost everything has changed for you in the last few years, but they have been there for everything. And since they've been there with you, they know everything, too. "It's...he's from here. I guess it's more awkward for me than I expected."

“Oh shit.” His face falls, feeling horrible about basically bribing you to coming with him. “I didn’t- we don’t have to go.” He promises you. “I can just go to the wedding by myself and come back and we can rent movies and eat pizza?”

"I said it's awkward, not that I'm going to abandon you to be a socially awkward wallflower." Even though you huff and roll your eyes at him, you reach out to give your brother a swift, tight hug. "I can manage. But you're taking me to the most absurdly Texas bar ever before we leave, so I can line dance and ride a mechanical bull. Then we'll go home and I'll be mopey for a week or two trying not to think about my soulmate. Deal?'

You’ve been hesitant to give anyone a lot of details about your soulmate, and that concerns Michael. You had always had an attitude about it, but he had assumed it was fear that your soulmate wouldn’t live up to your expectations. That somehow the universe would get it wrong and you wouldn’t have what mom and dad had. But when you had come home from Colombia, you had just said you had met him and parted ways. Refusing to tell him more than his first name, Javier. That secrecy had been even more worrisome, since you never normally kept secrets. “Okay.” He agrees, sending you a reassuring grin. “I think we can do that. But try not to mop on the bull, that could be bad.”

"No moping on the bull." The half-smile you offer your brother in thanks is the best you can do right now, but you know he understands. Or at least that he's doing his best to be supportive. Your brothers may have razzed you when you were kids but as adults you've gotten closer than closer. "I promise."

“Oh shit.” Turning back, Michael grabs a small pack off the bed, his medical bag. “Almost forgot the IV’s.” He huffs as he grins at you and holds out his arm for you to take. “Can’t be the ‘Doc’ if I can’t cure the hangover.”

"Dishonorable discharge if you forget. Obviously." You tease, and push yourself off the bed with determination. The Marine unit that your brother serves with means the world to him — they're his other family — and you won't disappoint him today by chickening out. You're just going to do your damnedest not to think about Javier Peña today.

******

Sitting with family, he’s surrounded by people. People who thankfully won’t ask him questions about his time in Colombia or his soulmate status. That one would be particularly bittersweet as he watches Danny exchange vows with his own soulmate.

The involved Catholic ceremony is anything but brief, leaving kids squirming and some adults stifling yawns, but all attention snaps to the couple for their vows and that eagerly anticipated first kiss of marriage. It stings for those of you without soulmates but no one would begrudge this beautiful couple their happiness. Not when it shines so brightly.

Javi ducks his head down, sighing softly but he claps with everyone else. Standing when the couple starts back up the aisle along with his pop. He didn’t really listen to the ceremony, lost in his own thoughts and thinking about the worn out letter in his wallet.

"Come on, mijo." Chucho shuffles down the pew to wave Javier out into the aisle as the church empties out. He's not looking to be late to the reception and miss out on getting a prime seat where he can watch all the action.

“Sure thing.” He sees someone who has been wanting to hear ‘war stories’ headed his way, so he is hot on his dad’s heels. “Fucking Budweiser is calling my name.”

"And you're gonna bring your old man one, too." The elder Peña chuckles, clapping his son on the back as they walk together.

Javi chuckles and nods. “Of course I will.” He snorts. “You’ll be too busy socializing.”

"Course I will." That makes his father laugh, and Chucho ropes his arm around his son's shoulder as they walk along to the truck, chuckling all the while. "You got you mother's quiet disposition, kiddo. I don't know what to tell you."

“Mom was better a reading people.” He points out, thinking about the woman most would have considered quiet. She was, until she had something to say, then she let you know it. “Just don’t want to talk about the same shit the entire time. This is about Danny today.”

"Could always try to talk to some new people," Chucho suggests when they get out to the truck. He climbs behind the wheel and Javi gets in beside him. "Danny's unit are all coming, and his girl— wife's work friends. You don't know any of them yet. Might be nice?"

“They are all kids.” Javi scoffs quietly. “I remember when Danny was running around taking his diaper off. Now he’s married.” He shakes his head. “I woke up old, pop.”

"Yeah, I know." He laughs again. "But at leas you're honest about it."

“Thanks, pop.” He rolls his eyes and reaches into his pocket for a piece of nicotine gum. He’s been trying to stop, but it’s been rough. “That makes you really old.”

"Yeah, I know." There is more laughter in the truck shared by the two men as Chucho pulls out onto the road again, and the older man just shrugs one shoulder as he shifts gears. They head to the outside of town to Danny's bride's family ranch with music playing and decent – if introspective – moods between them. Both Peñas find themselves think about their soulmates in the aftermath of the ceremony, though neither will push the subject.

“Do you ever regret finding mom?” Javi asks, looking out the window at the rolling grass and weathered fences. “I mean, if you had never known about her, it wouldn’t have hurt so much when she died.” Both men had mourned the loss of her heavily.

“Never.” His father’s answer comes immediately. There is not a single ounce of hesitation in his body. “But…I was lucky enough to love her and cherish her for almost fifty years.”

“Yeah.” His parents had been very early in their discovery of matching scars. “Do you ever think the universe gets it wrong?” He asks after another moment. “Soulmates, I mean.”

Chucho knows what his son is asking, but still he clenches his jaw and tuts, glancing over at Javier as he drives. “I think sometimes the right person can come along at the wrong time.” He says finally. “But we don’t always get a second chance, and that is the unfair part.”

Javi sighs softly, swiping is hand over his face and nodding. “Yeah.” He had told Chucho he had met his soulmate after coming back, but that you had left Colombia a few years before and there had been no contact. He had been disappointed in Javi but hadn’t said much. “Life’s not fair at all sometimes.”

“No.” Chucho agrees, and he shakes his head again as he pulls the truck into the field along with the other party guests. “It isn’t. But going through your life never taking another chance doesn’t help, either.”

“I don’t think she would want that.” He admits softly. “I think I’m more of a reminder about a horrible time in her life.” He had read your article, it was amazing and thought provoking, but he had read the unhappiness between the likes. The relief that it was over. He wouldn’t take you back to that place. Especially since it seems like you’ve fallen off the face of the earth since winning your Pulitzer.

“I’m not saying you have to take a chance on her, Mijo. Not if you don’t want to.” With the truck’s engine cut, Chucho huffs a sigh and turns to look at his son. “But you need somebody. Somebody to spend your time with and grow old with.” When Javi opens his mouth to object, Chucho holds up a finger. “And I don’t count, Javito. I’m gonna be gone soon enough and it’ll be you and the dog. That’s not enough.”

He’s right, even if Javi doesn’t like it. “You can grumble at me on the way home when you’re drunk.” Javi jokes and opens the door, wanting to shelve the conversation for now. “Let’s go celebrate the happy couple.”

The reception is very homegrown, with coolers of beer and dispensers of sangria on either end of a buffet of favorite foods and plenty of space to dance and drink and chat. It’s homey and welcoming, And the DJ is playing good music for everyone as they trickle in.

Javi lingers with his dad. Helping him choose a seat and putting on his sociable smile. He can be charming and engaging when he wants to be and he decides to grin and bear the inevitable questions and remarks about his work and his own botched wedding.

For the most part the other guests are family or close friends. They know the stories already or know that making Javi rehash his history is cruel. But there are always people who are curious and today that includes the first young woman to corner him at the drinks table.

Javi picks up two beers, turning and smiling at the younger woman who is obviously waiting for something. “The punch is good.” He offers, keeping that his cousin always makes the sangria his tía loves.

“Why don’t you grab me some?” The girl can’t be more than twenty-one, batting her eyelashes and sticking her chest out without an ounce of subtlety.

He wants to sigh, but he nods, moving over to the punch bowl and pouring her out a smaller cup of the fruity, spiced wine. “Here you go.” He offers.

“You’re not going to have one with me?” She pouts.

Javi moves down the table and bends down to pick up two beer bottles out of one of the coolers. “Beer.” He tells her.

“Gross.” Is the only comment he gets out of that and she’s gone again without further comment. Apparently off to find some people more to her taste.

He snorts to himself as he twists off the caps to the beers, thankful that his apparent bad taste in drinks had saved him from an awkward conversation. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He hums to himself as he tilts one bottle back for a sip before taking his dad his beer.

“She was cute.” Chucho offers, accepting the beer from his son, but chuckles when Javier looks dubious. “Too young. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” He drops down into the seat next to his dad and looks around, drinking the beer and smiling when someone glances over at him. “Good turn out.”

“Danny’s a good kid.” The commendation from Chucho is as warm and proud as if he had raised the boy himself.

“Can’t believe he’s grown.” Javi admits, glancing over at where Danny and some sailor are laughing and hugging. “And a Marine.”

"Give it a second before you go and say hi." Chucho grunts under his breath and motions for Javier to look to the right of where Danny and his service friends are laughing together. He's fairly certain that Javier won't want to spoil the day with running into Lorraine and the woman that tried to trap his son into marriage is standing nearby the group of men with another woman.

******

“So how you know everyone here?” The slim blonde gives you a friendly, wide smile and gestures around the hall. “I don’t guess I’ve seen you around town before.” Curiosity has always motivated Lorraine, and it’s rare that she has someone new to meet. Even if she’s avoiding the other side of the room right now, not quite brave enough to approach Javi.

"You wouldn't have." You clutch the glass of sangria that your brother had gotten for you and hold onto the little glass like an anchor. "It's my first time in Texas at all. I came with my brother." You motion to where Michael and his friends are chatting a few feet away. "He serves with the groom."

“Oh really?” She follows your finger and hums. “His uniform is different?” She gives a small laugh and shrugs. “I don’t know much about the military, but I think that’s the Navy?”

"It is." Small talk isn't necessarily your forte so you're glad to actually have something to focus on. Being proud of your brothers is at the top of the list. "He's green side." When she has no reaction to that term at all, you explain further. "He's the medical officer with their Marine unit."

“How interesting!” Her brows shoot up and she looks over at the group of men with a hum. “My husband, Randy, is a lawyer, I hear complaints about judges and bailiffs and court reporters.” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head slightly. “So you are keeping an eye on your brother tonight?” She’s already discreetly looked down at your left hand and didn’t spy any kind of ring, leading her to believe that you aren’t married. Randy has a brother that might find you attractive.

"He didn't want to come alone and I like to travel," you explain, laughing a little out of pure discomfort. Not that this woman is rude or anything, she's just a stranger. "Are you family? If you don't mind my asking, I mean. It seems like a tight knit community around here."

“Almost.” Her laugh is both slightly brittle and self-deprecating. “I was engaged to one of Danny’s cousins a million years ago.” She waves it away as if it’s not something that would prompt more questions. “But I’ve known Danny his entire life.”

"Family by association, then. That's really nice." It's sweet, and it reinforces your idea of the community around here being very close.

“Maybe.” She shrugs slightly. “I didn’t expect my ex to be here, but I guess we will have to have that awkward meeting at some point tonight.” She snorts. “Hopefully I’ll be a few glasses of sangria in by then.”

"Oh?" That sounds a bit like a plot point in a book to you, but your mind always has worked like a writer's more than anything else. Even when you don't write anymore.

“Yeah.” She glances around the room and spots Javi handing his father a beer before she looks back at you. “I thought he would still be in the jungle, honestly. But I guess that’s over now.”

"That sounds dramatic." Jungle is not exactly a place you want to be thinking about ever, but the conversational door is open and you can't just walk away from it, so you bite your tongue on anything but letting this woman talk.

“Javier can be dramatic.” She hums in agreement. “But I guess you have to be when you were trying to catch Pablo Escobar.”

Javier.

Your throat tightens and your legs turn to lead, heart pounding out of your chest so that your blood is screaming in your ears the second you realize who you have been aimlessly chatting with.

Javier's ex-fiancée Lorraine. The woman who drew his tattoos onto her skin to trap him into marrying her. The woman who made him so fearful of a soulmate connection.

Arguably? The woman who ruined your chance at a meaningful relationship with your own soulmate by abusing him out of his trust.

"I suppose it's easy to be dramatic when the people around you lie to you at every turn." You intone, still smiling and appearing as bubbly as ever, as if you were accusing Escobar of lying and not her.

She frowns for a moment, tilting her head as she thinks about your statement and tries to ascertain if you are insinuating something about her. “That’s an interesting way to look at it.” She agrees when your smile seems innocent. “I just want him to happy.” She tuts. “He’s been single since we broke up and I heard that he has been suspended by the DEA.” She drops her voice and leans closer, whispering that last part to not let her voice carry far. God forbid someone accuse her of gossiping.

"It might surprise someone how little a person's single status has to do with their exes." Trying not to frown or cross your arms, you clutch your cup a little harder. "People can be perfectly happy without being married. And there is often so much more than meets the eye behind government decisions." Without thinking, your instinct has been to jump to Javier's defense even though your mouth has run dry at the idea of him being in the same room after literal years apart. She said she saw him. He's here.

“Of course.” She smiles, a little uncomfortable with your sudden vehemence and she glances past you. “Oh darn.” She huffs. “My kids need my help.” She shoots you an apologetic glance and skitters by you to go help a little girl around seven years old with her plate at the buffet.

"Shit." Hissing under your breath, you manage to set your cup down on the table next to you and try to get yourself under control again. Maybe you'll just leave. Michael is fine, right? He's perfectly fine with his friends. You can just go back to the hotel and hide. Yep. Hide. Like a coward. That's exactly what you're going to do...

******

It was supposed to just a quick glance. A survey just to see where Lorraine was while he decides if he is going to speak to her here or not. He’s leaning towards not, just because he knows it will make tongues wag. His eyes flicker over in the direction his dad had indicated and he freezes, hand gripping the bottle tight in his fist when he sees you.

Not just you, a smiling version of yourself. You’ve lost weight, an observation that immediately makes him frown and wonder if you have been taking care of yourself. “Fuck.” He hisses, the ache that had been pushed down until it had become dull flaring to life in his chest.

“What?” Chucho asks, glancing back at Lorraine and not understand why his son would curse. “Just avoid her.” He councils, talking about Javi’s ex-fiancée.

That shakes Javi out of his stupor and he picks up the bottle and tosses back the rest of his beer. Pausing only to shake someone’s hand when they reach out before he stands up. “Not this time, pop.” He claps his father on the shoulder and moves through the crowd towards you.

In the second after you decide yep, time to run away back to the hotel room, you abandon your sangria cup and turn around to get Michael's attention but come face to face with an entirely different man. "Javier..."

His smile is lopsided, a little shy, and he scrubs his hands on the side of his jeans as he stares at you. The haunted look in your eyes that was there when he put you on that plane is gone, but you look like you’ve seen a ghost. “Small world.” He jokes, eyes roaming your face, apparently starved for the sight of you.

"Seems like it." It's a good thing you didn't pick up your drink because now your hands are shaking. It feels like all of you is shaking, in fact, and all you want to do is rush to his arms and hug him. He's clean shaven with his mustache trimmed neatly, dressed in possibly the most casual outfit you've ever seen – used to seeing him in suits around the apartment back in Bogotá. "H—how—um...how are you?"

He shrugs, looking around the room and then back at you. “Could be worse.” He admits before he frowns. “How about you?” He asks softly. “You look- good, real good.” His normal charm and smooth words with women falters and his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth. The only comfort is that you seem just as startled by his presence as he is with you.

"I've lost some weight." You shrug dismissively. The fact is, you're far more conventionally attractive this way but still self-conscious about your appearance. At least it's easier to get clothes that fit properly. "It's uh...it's good to see you." So fucking good. You had no idea how relieved you would feel until he was right in front of you again.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, unsure how in the world you ended up at the same wedding reception small town Texas as him. “I mean- it’s good to see you to, but how?”

"Danny." Taking a deep breath, you wish you had pockets to shove your hands into. "Apparently my brother serves with your cousin." You hadn't put it together before, because despite living in the same town, Javier and Danny have different last names. "So...the universe is having fun with us, I guess."

He chuckles quietly and shuffles closer to you. “Congratulations, by the way.” He murmurs. “Your article was amazing. You really deserved that Pulitzer and every other award you won.”

"It felt dirty." He is really the only person you can admit this to. He's closer to the thing than anyone else in the world. "It's what he wanted — for interviewing him to be worth that prize. But I couldn't not publish the story." Because you knew it would help him. To have all of that written down as clear as day. A first hand account of Escobar's cruelty. It helped fuel the US government's fire to get the mangey bastard. Which is bittersweet in its own right. "I watched the footage. It's...I'm sorry that..." You sigh softly. "You deserved to be there and it's shitty that you weren't. I'm sorry."

“My fault.” He can admit that, even as he shrugs away the sting of bitterness that needles through him every time. “I don’t regret it. I would do it again.”

"Whatever you did, you still deserved to be the one to shoot the bastard." A slight, soft sigh escapes. One of resignation if nothing else. "For both of us."

He hums in agreement, chewing on his gum and wishing he had a cigarette. “You didn’t read the interview Judy Moncalo gave?” He asks curiously, struck by the ‘whatever you did’ comment. Did you really not know?

"No." You admit quietly. "It, um...it made me too mad to read about you being sent home. So I didn't." What a horrible lie. It absolutely tore you up to read his name anywhere because you missed him so much, but you can't say that to his face.

He tics his brow up in surprise. He had the completely opposite reaction. It had taken everything in him to not constantly look you up. To keep tabs on you. He sighs and looks away again. “When you were….kidnapped, I went to Judy Moncalo and Don Berna.” He admits, shuffling slightly before he looks back at you. “I promised them a favor in the future if they could tell me where Escobar was holding you.”

"Oh god..." The air rushes out of you all at once and your eyes sting, but instead of drawing away from him you instantly give in to your first instinct when you saw him and end up throwing your arms around his shoulders to squeeze him tightly against you. "I'm so sorry," you murmur quietly, letting it all sink in and settle in your bones. He did it for you. To save you. "I can't—I—I'm so sorry and I'm so grateful."

He wraps his arms around you, holding you tight against him and he buries his face into your shoulder and neck, inhaling your scent. “Don’t apologize.” He grunts. “I would do it again.” He repeats. “In a heartbeat.”

"This is..." Sniffling back the tears that will stain his shirt and ruin your makeup, you still hold on to him like a lifeline for a few more seconds. "This is not at all what I thought this weekend was going to be like."

He chuckles, fully aware of that and feeling the same. “I understand.” He murmurs, pulling back when you do and looking into your eyes again. “You look like you need another drink.”

"I haven't even had the first one," you admit, motioning vaguely behind you at the cup you abandoned. "I got distracted meeting your awful ex-fiancée."

This time he winces. “I saw that.” He admits, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Guess that means that she wasn’t her normal charming self?”

“You dodged a bullet.” That is your honest assessment and you’re not afraid to give it.

That pulls a smirk out of him, glancing around to where Lorraine was seated with her kids. “I’d like to think so.” He admits. “Thought about kids with her at one point, now I couldn’t imagine.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” You tell him honestly, before thinking better of yourself and tacking on: “If only for your sake.”

Licking his lips, he wonders why that added comments irritates him. Why he isn’t satisfied with it. He reminds himself that you had left Colombia and never reached back out again. You are only here because of a coincidence. “Yeah.” He nods, looking back towards the coolers and wanting another beer. “So where are you writing now?”

“I’m not.” A fact which nags and frustrates you, but you pick up your cup and nod toward the drink table. This is not a conversation to be navigated without some kind of assistance. In this case, that’s alcohol. “I got out of that game after the award.”

No wonder he hasn’t been able to find your articles. “Really? Can I ask why? You are an amazing journalist.”

The compliment warms something hollow in your chest, but you still shrug one shoulder as you start to walk together. “I don’t know what I expected, really. I should have known Escobar’s men would retaliate after what I wrote. Coming after me? I get that. It was coming after my mother that made me stop. No matter what, it’s not worth putting my family into that kind of danger.”

“What?” He turns and grabs your elbow, making you face him again. “You- what happened?” Anger and guilt swirls in his stomach. You were in danger and he didn’t even know.

“Everybody’s okay.” You sure him, seeing a flash of panic in the depths of his eyes. “I’m fine. My mom is fine. The guys they sent got busted. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” He shakes his head and growls in frustration. He should have had someone watching over you. He hadn’t told the DEA about your soulmate connection between the two of you because he hadn’t wanted to cause any more undue stress. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Startled slightly by the vehemence of the question, you look away and have to take a steadying breath. “I…didn’t think you would want to hear from me.”

“Anytime you need anything, you can call me.” He softens, hating the way you tense up slightly under his hand. “I didn’t reach out to you because of the same thing.” He confesses.

“We didn’t exactly promise to keep in touch.” Which is as much your fault as his. Maybe more. You had been so determined to leave clearly and let him get on with his life.

“No, we didn’t.” He lets go of your arm and shrugs. “I— I should have called though. I was afraid that you would just remember the kidnapping .”

“There hasn’t been a single day of my life that I haven’t thought about it,” you murmur, eyes downcast and already missing the warmth of his small, reassuring touch. “But you saved my life.”

“I’m sorry it took so long.” He’s apologized many times, but he needs to again.

“Me too.” Although you’re not quite sure what to do with the fact that he’s here in front of you know. It feels like a joke being played on you by the universe at large — knowing how you still feel about him but having given that up years ago.

He turns and starts to guide you back towards the drink table. His hand comes around you and rests on your lower back.

It’s a searing sting and the most wonderful ache in the world all at the same time, reminding you of movie nights on his couch and navigating each other in the kitchen. The tantalizing promise of things that never came to be and now never would. At least he doesn’t hate you. That’s more than you could have asked for, as far as you’re concerned.

Javi barely resists the urge to caress your skin over the back of your dress. Biting his lip as he guides you and he wonders if he’s ever told you how pretty you are.

“Beer?” There’s no whiskey, otherwise you would have poured that for him instinctively. But it’s all you can do right now not to think about the heat of his hand ghosting over your back.

“Yeah.” He shoots you a grin. “We promised that we wouldn’t go overboard and stuck with beer for the reception.” He informs you. “Although I know Danny has a bottle of whiskey outside.”

“We?” The corner of your mouth ticks up in amusement. “Are you a wedding planner now?”

He snorts. “Nah. But I paid for the alcohol as a wedding present.”

“Hell of a lot nicer than my brother’s idea.” You snort and hand him a bottle. “Taking him out of buying a sexy music cassette was not a conversation I ever expected to have.”

“Oh fuck.” Javi chuckles. “Nothing wrong with making love to music, but that is personal preference, not a gift.”

“Not at all.” Laughing with him is soothing. Calming. And you’ll take this moment for whatever it is worth. “Which is why I banned him from buying the gift and got them some kitchen stuff instead. Michael said they like to cook together.”

“That’s a better idea. Danny likes to cook. He makes his mom’s recipes.” He smiles. “I remember someone else likes to cook too. Miss that.”

“It’s…actually what I do now.” Don’t read into it. Don’t read into it. He’s just being nice. “I got a job on the line at my dad’s old restaurant.”

“Really?” He looks impressed because he is impressed. Happy that you have found what makes you happy. “How do you like it?” He asks. “I know if you opened up a restaurant here you would make a killing.”

“It keeps me busy. And it makes me feel closer to my dad, so that’s always a bonus.” The comment about being here, though, feels like so much warmth coursing through your heart even though you’re sure he didn’t mean it to be. “Not too many Italian places in southern Texas?”

“Not like yours.” He huffs, rolling his eyes slightly. “You have a gift.”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to put him off. To deny the compliment. To dismiss it. But a split-second hesitation has the truth pouring out of you instead. “Thank you I— I loved cooking for you.”

He almost asks you to cook for him and his dad, but that would be rude – even for him. Instead he twists the cap off the beer you had handed him. “How long are you in town for?”

“We only planned on the weekend.” Suddenly you wish it was more. Running into Javier had been such a fear and now all you want to do is bask in it. “We got in this morning and we’re flying back Monday morning.”

He takes a sip of the beer and nods. “Time to recover from a hangover and get bored.” He jokes.

“Pretty much.” That had been the logic in the planning anyway. “I made my brother promise to hunt down the most gimmicky bar possible with me.”

“José’s.” Javi answers immediately and without any irony. “It’s this little country bar with a bull that services Budweiser and tequila shots.”

“It has a bull?” You perk up at that — it’s all you wanted out of this stupid little excursion and you don’t feel like hiding it. “Do they do line dancing too?”

He chuckles, “It wouldn’t be a country bar if it didn’t.” He promises. “It’s lively on Saturday nights and Sunday nights.”

“You should come.” The offer comes tumbling out of your mouth fore you can stop it, but you won’t take it back. Not when seeing him again feels relieving instead of awkward like you had been dreading.

He is very surprised that you offered, lifting a brow for a moment and searching your face to see if you are just being nice or if you mean it. “Sounds like a plan.”

"We never really had much time for fun in Colombia." You sip your sangria, humming softly at the sweet, tangy, alcoholic brew. Somebody has put some real thought into this recipe. "There was work to do."

“Plus, you never really seemed like you wanted be out in a social setting with me.” He hadn’t commented on it at the time, just taken it as further proof you hated him being your soulmate.

"I didn't figure you wanted to be out in a social situation with me." Rehashing those months together might not be pleasant, but apparently you're in a particularly honest mood this afternoon.

“When the clubs were filled with sicarios and informants who would snitch to narcos?” He shakes his head. “No. I didn’t. But under other circumstances? I wouldn’t mind it at all.”

"It's different now." For better or for worse, your circumstances in life have changed drastically. Both of you.

“Yes it is.” You’ve managed to finish your sangria, so Javi puts his beer down and refills your cup before handing it back to you. “We both are different now too.”

"Maybe not too different," you admit with a laugh, willing yourself to ignore the way your fingers burn when they brush his. "I'm still a stubborn pain in the ass sometimes."

He snorts, glad that hasn’t changed. “I almost didn’t recognize you.” He huffs, slightly disappointed by your weight loss, but that’s not any of his business. You just need to be happy with yourself.

"I know. I look different." Better, but different. But him? He looks as gorgeous as the day he brought you to the airport, which is making your stomach flip. "You look the same. Which isn't a bad thing at all."

He scoffs at that and shrugs. “You lie, but thank you.” He hums. “Have you eaten yet?”

"Why would I lie about that?" Even though you ask the question, you still shake your head. Before being snagged in conversation by Lorraine and then spotted by Javier, you had just been following your brother around like a tail.

“Come on.” He urges you towards the table that is groaning and straining under the weight of all the dishes. “You should try some of this food, all family recipes.”

"If I ever turn down family recipes, take me to a doctor because I am very unwell." The change of topic and focus is welcome, and you walk side by side with him in a moment of comfortable silence.

Javi can see the eyes on the pair of you, some of them assessing and some just curious. He catches his dad’s raised brow but he just points out the dishes to avoid discreetly.

"I'll have to apologize to my brother for ditching him later." You joke, passing over something Javier describes as Texas lasagna that just makes you long for your own homemade dish. "But he'll be fine."

“Do you want to go back over there with him?” He asks, suddenly unsure if you want to spend this wedding reception chatting with him. Maybe you had hoped to meet someone.

Glancing back, you can see over Javier's shoulder that your brother has not only one but two very attractive people captive to a story he's telling — one of them being another member of his unit that you know he has a crush on and the other being a beautiful woman close to his same age. "Nah." You decide, shaking your head and looking back at Javier. "He's fine. Unless..." A startling thought occurs and makes your stomach drop. "You'd rather I leave you alone?"

“No.” He’s quick to shake his head, frowning at the thought. “Not at all.” He promises. “I just didn’t want you to think you had to talk to me if you would rather mingle.” It feels like you are both going around in circles and he huffs at himself in amusement.

"No." Your answer is almost as quick as his, and your cheeks burn with a flutter of something like tension in your chest. Just because it's one-sided doesn't mean the flush of attraction isn't still there. "No, I mean—I'm good. I'd rather be here."

He flashes you a quick grin, lighting up his face and showcasing some of that Peña charm. “Sounds good, sweetheart.”

******

It's easy to lose track of time when you're actually enjoying yourself. Sitting and eating a meal with Javier again feels like coming home in the most sentimental of ways. It's comfortable and has your chest tightening with every laugh. You've found yourselves at a table in a corner away from the rest of the party where you can just sit and talk, and it's such a fucking relief. So much so that neither of you notice when your table is approached halfway through the reception.

Javi sees the edge of a floral dress come into view, pink shoes that match the large flowered peeking out from underneath. He knows who it has to be, she hasn’t changed that signature scent Estee Lauter perfume since they had been together. “Lorraine.” He acknowledges her, not even taking his eyes off of you.

"Javier." Her smile is pinched, looking down at the pair at the table with as much insatiable curiosity as judgement.

He wonders why she is here, but he glances up at the woman. Technically, she’s still beautiful, but he doesn’t see that. He sees the lies and manipulation she had tried to use to get her way. “What a pleasant surprise.” He lies, smiling at her.

"We would never have missed Danny's big day." She bristles at the implication that she ever would, in fact, but puts on a pleasant false smile instead. "I just came to say hello and see how my new friend was doing."

Her pointed gaze is directed entirely at you and you sit back in your chair with pure amusement. She came to be nosy, but that's fine. "I'm enjoying myself immensely," you tell her with a broad grin.

She stiffens slightly and looks between you and Javier, trying to decide if the two of you know each other. “He can be such a flirt.” She agrees. “Weddings are fun places to meet new people.”

“Yes.” You agree with a pleasant, if intentionally vacant, smile. “It was very good to meet you, Lorraine.”

Javi smiles slightly, seeing the confusion on her face, and he wonders if she had told you her name. “You know me, I’m sociable.” He lies, chuckling when you snort.

“That’s us.” You smother more chuckles with sip of sangria. “Always so sociable.”

Lorraine narrows her eyes slightly, lips pinched together and Javi wonders why she’s so irritated. “How’s Randy, Lorraine?” He asks mildly. “The kids? You’ve got two now, right?”

“We’re all wonderful.” She claims, with the right assurance of someone who is absolutely lying. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

He shrugs casually and picks up your now empty glass. “Trained to retain even the most useless information.” He quips before looking over at you again. “Need a refill?”

“Please? I may have to beg your tía’s sangria recipe off of you. It’s amazing.” There is so much familiarity, so much comfort, in the way you interact. It very obviously can’t be the first time you’ve met, which only makes Lorraine’s pinched frown deepen.

“Don’t count on getting the recipe.” Lorraine tuts, sending you a sympathetic look. “It’s a family recipe and she won’t get it out to just anyone.” Javier had been about to walk away, but her comment made him turn back. Only taking a second before he decides to open his mouth. “I’m sure she would count my soulmate as family.” He declares firmly.

The way the air is sucked out of the conversation is instant and smothering. A pin could drop and the sound would reverberate between them until the end of time. Lorraine's jaw unhinges in shock at the same instant that you have to force all the determination in your entire body into not reacting.

He said it. He said it out loud. He acknowledged it to his ex-fiancée. Instead of a stomach that flips with nerves or anxiety, you positively beam with pride.

"Your—?" Lorraine sputters, when she can finally breathe again.

“Soulmate.” He repeats with a nod, reaching out and placing his hand on your shoulder. He knows that he shouldn’t have revealed this so casually, he hasn’t even told his father, but it seemed fitting to acknowledge his connection to you to the woman who had tried so hard to convince him that she was his soulmate. “We discovered the connection in Colombia.”

A smirk slowly crawls across your face, tucking itself in the corner of your mouth. "In the jungle."

Javi watches a myriad of emotions play out over Lorraine’s face, the prominent one being utter disbelief, but he just hums. “I guess I should thank you.” He makes it sound like he had only put two and two together right now, even though it has been a thought in his head since meeting you. “If you hadn’t lied to me and tried to haul me to the altar, I would have never accepted the job in the DEA and gone to Colombia.” His hand squeezes your shoulder gently. “And I don’t know if now wouldn’t have been our first meeting instead of then.”

Your eyes close briefly against the thought — mostly because you're certain that you wouldn't have survived Colombia if not for Javier — and you reach to place your hand over his on your shoulder. You give it a firm, affectionate squeeze and when you open your eyes again you're looking up at him with such fierce fondness that it crashes over you like a wave. "Forget the drink," you decide, blocking out everything around you including Lorraine. "Dance with me."

His response is immediate, setting down the cup and turning his palm to hold yours. “Absolutely, sweetheart.” He murmurs, not using the endearment for Lorraine’s sake, but for the way you are gazing at him. Like you are his sweetheart, like he deserves that affection.

The dust left in the wake of your exit from the table might have choked her but you wouldn't care. The only thing you care about is the song that is changing over to something slow and sweet as you walk out to the dance floor together. Hand-in-hand as though all the fights and all the frustrations didn't matter at all.

Javi feels like there’s been some unspoken turning point. Facing you once you reach the dance floor, he shoots you a grin and pulls you against him. Fitting you along his lean body and humming when it seems like you just click into place, your hand on his shoulder and on his arm as he winds around you to guide you through the song. “Think she’s still trying to find her jaw on the floor?” He muses, even though he couldn’t care one bit what she thinks or how she reacts to the news.

"Probably." The giggle — actual, real, amused giggle — that bubbles out of you is as amused as it is aghast. It feels like you've floated up onto a cloud somehow. "You know she'll tell everyone, don't you?"

“Oh yeah.” He snorts, fully aware that everyone in the room will know within the next five minutes, maybe even before the song is done. Unless she’s somehow magically struck mute or decides that she’s going to keep it to herself. “Do you mind?”

"No." Surprisingly you don't mind in the least. Not even when the people who are going to find out are his family. His friends. His community. "No, I don't mind. It serves her right for sticking her nose in, and..." You shrug slightly but keep close to him as you turn slowly around the dance floor together. "And things are different now then they were then. There's no one to keep that secret from anymore."

“They are different.” He can agree with that. “Hell, I don’t know if I still have a job.” He admits. “I’ve been told to stay here until they call me to Washington.”

"The investigation will go as long as it needs to." Which stings in a particularly tender way, now that you know why he did what he did. "I wish there was something I could do to help."

“Actually…” he smiles softly at you. “This has helped a lot.” He confesses. “I will never doubt that I did the right thing.”

"I'm sorry it's cost you so much." Of course you won't claim to be sorry that he did it. That he saved you. But you do wish it hadn't cost him everything else in the process.

“Don’t know if it cost me much.” He has been thinking it, but he’s never said those words aloud. “I think you saved my soul.”

Whatever you expected him to say, that certainly isn't it, and you tilt your head slightly in utter surprise. "That's quite a thing to say."

“It’s true.” His fingers flex on your waist, bringing you closer just a bit. “I had forgotten what it was like to care about more than the job. Or my next drink, or next fuck.” He licks his lips and sighs softly. “I wanted you to stay, I just couldn’t say the words. Not when you wanted to leave so badly.”

"As long as we're being honest..." Moving together automatically and oblivious to any-and-everything else, you only find yourself drawn in closer to Javier as you move through the dance. Your hand on his shoulder squeezes a little tighter without realizing it. "I didn't want to leave you. I just couldn't handle staying in Colombia while he was still out there."

“Oh.” He hadn’t realized that but he can see why you would want to get as far away as possible from the man who had kidnapped and tortured you. “You would have stayed if we had killed him that day?”

Somehow, with all the people you had ever talked to about that night in so many different capacities, no one had ever asked you this question. And that might be why it startles the truth out of you so easily. “If you had wanted me to.”

“Yes.” He murmurs softly, looking into your eyes and wondering why the hell he hadn’t said anything about how special you had become to him then. “I’m selfish enough that I would have wanted you to.”

"We...weren't good at talking about things then." Not like you apparently are now. Maybe it's just that enough time has passed. Maybe it's that the pressure in your lives is so much less now. That the world doesn't seem to be pressing down on both of your shoulders as it falls apart at the seams.

“No, we weren’t.” He can admit that, even though he’s not great about talking now. But you should be the one he’s willing to make an exception for. “Maybe we just needed time.” He ponders. “Or maybe it’s needing to lose you to find out how much it would hurt.”

"It wasn't supposed to." The tempo of the song that's playing is slow and sweet and you swear it's lulling you into some kind of dream — or maybe it's the way Javier's hand is inching around your waist that's doing that instead. "It was supposed to let you live."

“That’s why I put you on that plane.” He agrees. “Because I wanted you to live how you wanted.”

You practically choke on the irony, shaking your head to banish the rising instinct of tears in the face of so much revelation. "Stubborn, self-sacrificing idiots." You almost manage to laugh, but not quite. "Both of us."

“Yeah.” He huffs, frowning slightly, but it’s a soft frown. “So what do we do now?” He knows what he wants, he knew it the moment he saw you, but he wants to know where you stand.

"I have no idea." The only thing you really know at the moment is that the song is ending but you don't want to let him go, and you're not too sure what to do with that information.

Javi hums, staring at you for a moment before the tiniest smirk starts to curl the edges of his lips. “Wrong answer.” He grumps, right before he reaches up and holds the back of your head and slants his lips against yours.

******

The sound of moaning coming from Javier Peña’s bedroom is not exactly unusual. It’s who is moaning that makes this particular evening so extraordinary.

Your back hits the doorframe as his bedroom door slams open, and maybe if you had been able to see where you were going, it might have been more graceful of an entrance. But it feels like you haven’t been able to stop kissing Javier since that moment on the dance floor. Behaving yourself on the drive back to the ranch had been excruciating and the second he threw the truck into park he had dragged you out of your seat to head into the house.

Javi chuckles into your mouth, pulling you away from the door and spinning you around so he can kick it closed. Not breaking contact for a second when he feels like he will die if he doesn’t slide inside you. Even at his most needy, he’s never been this frantic. If he didn’t think you might hit him, he would haul you against the door and fuck you right there. No he wouldn’t, your first time deserves more than that, but he feels like it.

The closed door means privacy at last and even though you could easily have pulled over to the side of the road at any time on your way back, there was an unspoken agreement here — that the first time you did this, no matter what else happened, you're going to do it right. "Javi..." Whining this name is definitely one more right thing, even if you're too far past the point of desperation to finish any kind of thought when one of his hands slides up your side to cup your tit over your dress.

“Yes.” Whatever your question is, whatever demand you have, the answer is yes. He grins when you gasp into his mouth, his fingers twisting around the tight little nub under your bra. Squeezing and kneading you before he moves to your zipper at your back, knowing he has to touch skin.

"That." You groan in deeply frustrated, tightly wound, near-relief as he tugs at your zipper and you start to pull the tails of his shirt free from his jeans.

He hums in agreement, knowing exactly what you mean as he immediately starts to unhook your bra, his tongue sliding against yours as he undoes it.

It's the first time in your life you've ever cursed buttons for existing, but you're fumbling with his shirt as his overlarge hands seem to span every inch of your skin at once and you're still craving more. Your fingers stumble over each nub of plastic, pulling his shirt open one by one, and your swear your cunt flips all over again when you find hot, bare skin underneath instead of an undershirt.

“Goddamn.” He shudders when your hand touches his stomach, nail scratching over a flat nipple. Your panties are next, pulling your clothes down to where you have to let go of him for them to fall so he can have more of you.

"Could not agree more." You manage to gasp out, shuddering with an almost painful lack of his hands on you. Having left your boots at the door, you're fully naked before him for the very first time but all you can think about is stepping forward to undo his pants and nudge him toward the bed.

You are soft, curvy. You might look at your body and see the stretch marks, the skin that isn’t as firm as you wish it to be. He just sees you and how fucking perfect you are. His cock twitches painfully when you bump against the bulge in his jeans and he groans when his fingers find the thatch of curls between your thighs.

The barest touch from his fingers is enough to make your knees wobble but you have a firm hold of his jeans and peel them away with shaky hands. Every new touch is too much and not enough, making you burn and ache in ways that you never knew possible. Too much, not enough, and completely perfect, that's the barely coherent thought in your head when you sink down to your knees in front of him and tasty the silky, salty weight of his cock on your tongue for the first time.

“Shit.” He hisses loudly, cupping your cheek and groaning when you hum around him. “Sweetheart- fuck….” His lashes flutter, watching you under hooded lids as you lick down the side of his length.

"Mmhmm." Your hum of agreement is low and indulgent as your fingers wrap around the base of him. The salty, musky tang of him fills your senses and wipes away the rest of the world in a way you never thought possible.

He’s imagined this scene more than once. A man who enjoys sex as much as Javier has imagined a lot of different things. This blows away everything he had ever thought of while his hand was wrapped around his cock. “Fuck.” He grunts again. “You are talented, sweetheart.”

A moment of cynicism might have had you convinced that he’s said that to every girl before you as well, but the thought never even occurred to you. It doesn’t matter what he’s done with or said to anyone else. The only thing that matters is that you’re finally here together — and that he already sounds even more wrecked than you had ever imagined.

It’s been a lot longer than you probably imagined since Javi had had sex, so he’s quickly closer than he would want to be. Rocking his hips back to pull his cock out of your greedy mouth. “Goddamn— I can’t- get on the bed.” He growls, wanting to make sure you enjoy yourself before he loses control.

The thin string of saliva and precum that pulls from the corner of your mouth is only barely thinner than the thread of your self-control at this point, but you manage to only whine a little when he pulls back and follow his direction to climb on top of his bed. As long as he comes with you, you’ll go anywhere he wants.

Kicking off the pants piled at his feet is the only thing left and then he can climb into bed with you. He pauses, staring at you for a moment before he frowns. “Condom?” He asks, wanting to know what you think. “I- had a physical when I got back. I’m clean.”

“I am too…” He doesn’t need to know that the work up you had when you got back to the US years ago was a new kind of torture or that you haven’t slept with any of the women you’ve dated since coming home. This is not the time for those details. All that matters is now. “I don’t—I don’t care. I just need you.”

Javi growls, jaw clenched and anyone who didn’t know him would think that he’s furious. That he’s about to lunge at you for reasons completely opposite what makes him spring forward and grab you. “Fuck.” He hisses, slamming his lips against yours again. “I’ve needed to hear that for so goddamn long.”

“For years.” All you can do is gasp. Moan. Beg.

So many fucking years have been wasted. So much time lost. Javi makes up for it. Learning your curves like he will be tested on your erogenous zones and only graded on those that are most sensitive.

His hands and mouth trace every inch of you, memorizing and committing to pleasuring every part of you in every way possible just as you do for him. It’s a glorious game of give and take where you are both the winners, never losing anything but breath and composure until he kneels between your spread legs and lunges all over again to kiss you while pushing inside your body at last.

He should have gone down on you. He had meant to. He had meant to lap at your clit and feel smug while you thrashed above him, but the soft stroke of your hand around his cock had driven him crazy. Just as interested in fucking him, your cunt is slick and damn near too wet as he slides through your folds and inside the heat of you. "Fuuuuuuuuuuck."

Your keening wail would have been heard across half of Bogotá, but the whimper that follows out is just for him as he stretches your pussy to hug the veiny length of him. In a world so full of noise and chaos no matter what the age, any lover with the ability to narrow your focus is worthwhile. But him? It feels like the rest of the world has ceased to be.

Javi’s eyes are closed like he is praying. Lips ghosting over your chin, your cheek, anywhere he can reach as he bottoms out inside you. “God.” He huffs silently, twitching and trying to resist the urge to start moving just yet.

“Nope.” You tease. You can’t help it. With one of your hands cupping his cheek, you squirm under him but hold his gaze. “Just me. Just us.”

He would snort, shoot back some sarcastic retort, but the look in your eyes stops him. The teasing mirth is mixed with real affection and he’s nodding with you. Melting into the realization that this is real, for both of you. “Just us.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss you again. The passion is still just as fierce, but there is a complex layer of something else mixed in.

The shift in mood from hungry to almost reverent is palpable. From a desperate demand to a blossoming prayer. So that when he draws his hips back for the first time and slowly pushes them home again, you could nearly cry along with crying out.

He shudders a groan into your mouth, absorbing your sounds and sighing in response. Pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you, holding you close while he slowly starts to rock in and out of you.

You melt into the mattress together, a mess of rolling hips and grasping limbs, sweat damp from the Texas heat and burning desire. Every cry is poured into more kisses, every moaned sound of encouragement swallowed up by the sweep of a tongue or nip of teeth. The heavy weight of him on top of you feels somehow like the missing end of your limbs, and you press in closer with every arch of your back — ink to ink, scar to scar, soul to soul.

Javi can’t get enough of you, every dip of his hips, every time you squeeze his cock tight, it’s like coming home. His nose presses against your pulse and he groans your name.

Waves of pleasure wash over you again and again, merciless in their tempo and determined to carry you away with them. So you cling to him. As if he were the anchor you did not know you needed to seek. As if he is the only thing capable of seeing you through this storm of emotions regardless of the fact that he’s caused them. He rocks into you at a steady tempo that has you sobbing his name, half moon marks biting into his shoulders when you crest that mountain of pleasure and fall apart for him.

It’s searing. Burning with how hot, how perfect it is. Making him crave the way you sob his name, gasping out in pleasure. The throbbing of your walls and the wet heat of your pleasure wrapping around him and drowning him in you. He only has one thought and it bursts from his lips when he pushes deep and gives in to the incessant need to fill you. “I love you.”

If it were any other person — any other — you would have teased. The instinct would have been too great. Professing to love someone the first time you cum inside them could be construed as so immature or inexperienced that it would have been easy to at least question it. But this moment is so honest and so vulnerable that you wrap your arms tight around him and stroke his sweat-slick back, pressing an earnest kiss to his lips instead. “I love you too.”

Acceptance, it’s something that he’s never thought he would be so fucking relieved to receive. You love him too. It’s not one sided, it’s not built up in his head with layers of guilt and yearning. It’s not twisting into falsehoods and teaming with expectations. It just is. He groans into your mouth and slides his tongue against yours when you open your mouth for him.

You lie tangled up in each other like that for as long as you can. Sharing kisses and holding onto each other like the other will evaporate if you let go. You’ve loved him since before you left Colombia. You have and you do. For it to be shared? Is your most far fetched dream come true.

He knows that a conversation has to happen, probably several of them. Right now though, he just wants to hold you. His fingers trace your shoulder and down your spine when you twist into his side. He had frowned when you didn’t throw your leg over his and had reached down to pull it up on his body. “That’s better, baby.” He hums before he had started his little teasing touches. “Fuck, I need a cigarette.” He chuckles.

“Same.” You laugh right along with him, snuggling into his side. “Except I can’t remember where I left my purse.”

“I’m trying to quit.” He admits. “But I think it doesn’t count if you share a cigarette, right?” The mood is light, almost playful and he feels more relaxed than he has in years.

"Definitely not." Your sage agreement comes with a kiss that you press to his chest. "I quit when I got back to the States but then everybody at the restaurant smokes, so I slowly picked it back up again."

“I’ve got a pack of cigarettes in my nightstand.” He motions towards the side closest to you. “Light us one up and we should probably have a long overdue talk.”

------

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

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[gingerbread1177]

It isn't every night.

But, of course, many night, I am up at night just thinking about my mom.

I experience many emotions. Guilt. Shame. Anger. Sadness. Joy. Love.

So on, so on. A plethora. She is my mother, and I assume this is normal.

I'm noticing the pattern is within the nights I am up with issues concerning my body dysmorphia. Body image issues. Whatever.

Fuck if I know, if it's actually body dysmorphia. I see myself. And I'm not going to see myself the same way everybody else does, reguardless. And not everyone is going to percieve me the same way.

I've stopped worrying about these things and healed these things long ago.

But everyone comments on my weight, my size, what my body looks like. I'm either too skinny or too fat. I look unhealthy, either way.

There is a mold to fit.

This is part of the generational curses amongst women in my family, and most (if not all) women, in general.

And, oh, the demons that it has been riddled with.

My inner child, my five year old self on to around ten, loves her mother. Her mother is sunshine and her hero.

My inner teenager, from twelve onward to my early twenties... Confusion, trauma, rage, pain, angst.

From that point, it has just been lessons, Awakening, lessons, Awakening.

Not always. Just in experiences of growth both Spiritually and in the mundane.

Life. Human experience.

The entire thing has led to this massive lesson I am experiencing, now.

My current situation is getting past the feeling of not wanting to deal with it at all. This is a big one, and I don't want to face it.

But somehow, my Spirit Guides are laughing and say I always do this. And yet, I am facing it head on. 🩷✨️🙏🏻🧿🪽

Pushing through the thought patterns, pin pointing the things that have made me feel this way, and trying to change my perspective and re-wire my brain, without losing myself, doesn't seem like an easy task to the human aspect of myself. But I seem to just be doing it, somehow. Without even really realizing it. Even through the times it seems as though I'm not. Even when the illusion of failure plays around with the environment, and me.

Is that not how God? 🩷✨️🙏🏻🧿🪽

It's another transformation.

I have to navigate cautiously, but I have to simultaneously allow God (or the Christ Conciousness) to handle it.

But this is one that makes me so angry.

Body image, beauty standards, lust, love, perception.

My autocorrect attempted to say, "ugh".

"Ugh", is right, Spirit Guides.

I am tired too.

My Divine Masculine is correct, and I do need to take a deep breath. I do need to see the ways I overthink, and that I am hypocritical.

There are breaks screeching outside that sound like screaming, and something in my stomach is growling.

Everything screams when it dies, and this is within my Sacral Chakra and my Solar Plexis.

"You need to eat more."

"Establish" ?

Whatever it all is, it's in God's Hands. There's nothing more important than you .

(Another sudden surprise from the autocorrect. I was attempting to say, "there is nothing more I can really do, besides take it all one day at a time.")

4:11am, I get to a point where I may be able to fall back asleep, and I can see these bright little twinkles in my peripheral vision.

They are yellow, and to the right.

Yellow is the color of joy, light, happiness, sunshine. Yellow reminds me of my mother.

The right side of the body represents the Masculine. A place of Honor.

It's unfortunate that I feel as though it is the right side of my body I feel is physically nostalgia ??

....

It is unfortunate that I feel as though it is the right side of my body, the Feminine, that is most unattractive. Or falling apart.

But I do not always feel that way. But I do pay more attention to that side of my body, and give it the most grief.

The time, 4:11, represents spiritual growth on the horizon. It is a representation of 11:11:11.

How funny.

Do I hear an animal whimpering? There's also moving in the room in dead silence. But, I'm never surrounded by anything with malicious intent. Especially during these times. I pray them away too often.

I live in an apartment, so I am going to hear sounds. But it is generally very quiet and sounds breaking through during the dead silence of 4:00am become signals.

11:11:11 also equals to 222.

Alignment, Love, Partnership, Teamwork, Balance.

4:22am just as I look at the clock, considering how sleepy I am starting to feel again.

Funny. And if you know, you know, I guess.

The sound of the motorcycle I hear is my signal to finally go back to sleep. Shut off the avatar, and send my spirit back to work.

[back-and-totheleft]

Oliver's Twist

DECEMBER SUNLIGHT GLINTS OFF the bald, bronze head of a statue of the ever-serene Buddha, sitting in the lush backyard of a Mediterranean villa in Santa Monica. A few paces away, in a living room filled with Asian antiques, two more personages—also plump and sparsely haired—radiate inner peace. One is Tara Stone, 5 weeks old and deep in slumber. The other is her father—upon whose chest Tara sleeps as he lounges on an overstuffed sofa.

While Tara's mother, Chong Son Chong, 36, a Korean émigré and former actress and model, putters elsewhere in the house, the father smiles with deep satisfaction, dipping a finger into one of Tara's white booties to touch her baby skin. "She can feel my heart," says director Oliver Stone. "She's made me a happy man." He speaks again, examining the word like a flower: "Happiness."

Wait, wait—who is this zen, beatific puppy? The Oliver Stone we know is an angry, self-described provocateur. The familiar Stone is the one who, a couple of years ago, dismissed those who doubted the baroque conspiracy theories behind his film JFK as "chick s-t." He is a director so notorious for on-set tirades that Anthony Hopkins, who plays the title role in Stone's latest dive into history, Nixon, has said he expected "a kind of caveman." But while Stone doesn't deny there are brutish aspects to his character, he insists they are mere brush strokes—not the whole portrait. "There's no appreciation," he says, "that there's another side of me."

Stone now wants the world to see that other side. Chastened by the acrimonious end in 1993 of his 12-year marriage to his second wife, Elizabeth, 46—who lives with the couple's two sons, Sean, 11, and Michael, 4—the director insists he has embarked on a fresh, clear path in life. He has a new child, and a new relationship, with Chong. In their generally positive reviews of Nixon, critics, while not defending him against persuasive claims that he has taken his customary liberties with historical fact, have praised Stone's newfound "restraint." A Buddhist since he embraced the religion while making his 1993 saga of the Vietnamese experience of the war, Heaven & Earth, Stone says he has also found a degree of spiritual tranquility. In short, Oliver Stone wants us to know that at age 49 he believes he is growing up.

There are some signs it may be true—one being his decidedly un-Stone-like response to criticism of Nixon. Before it opened—to very disappointing box office business—the late President's normally private daughters, Tricia Nixon Cox, 49, and Julie Nixon Eisenhower, 47, read a script and issued a statement through the Nixon Library in Yorba Linda, Calif., decrying the movie as "character assassination." Since then, seemingly every Nixon Administration official, and a number of historians and neutral observers, have weighed in in a similar vein. "It is a despicable fairy tale," says former Treasury Secretary William Simon. "This is a vicious attack on a man," says onetime White House Chief-of-Staff Gen. Alexander Haig. Though Stone hasn't shrunk from defending his work, his responses have been far more measured than in the past. He wrote this month to John Taylor, head of Nixon Library, to suggest he convene a symposium on the late President's image, adding, "I understand the feelings you have about [the film]." In his turn, Taylor—who calls the movie sadistic—says he will invite Stone to a planned conference on movies about recent U.S. history.

Ironically, there are numerous parallels between Stone's life and Nixon's. Nixon, no matter how successful, never found personal peace; Stone has seemed equally driven. Growing up in New York City as the only child of Louis Stone (a stockbroker who died in 1985) and his wife, Jacqueline, Stone, like Nixon, rarely received much affection from his father. "Louis would never kiss Oliver," says Jacqueline. "He would shake his hand." Stone says his mother was loving but caught up in New York's arty social whirl. "When she was [home], she was perfect," he says. "But it was continual abandonment."

Compelled, perhaps, by a child's sense of powerlessness, Stone sought control. "He was not like other children—he was conscientious, tidy," says his mother. At age 6 on family visits to France, she says, he called upon his cousins to perform in sketches he wrote—and charged adults two francs to attend the show. "Oliver was the leader, and his cousins did the work. Oliver likes to have it his own way."

Behind it all, Stone says, "I was very insecure." The feeling intensified in 1960 when Stone was sent off to the Hill School in Pottstown, Pa., where he never felt he fit in. "I was nobody special," he says. "I felt invisible." Then, in his sophomore year, his parents divorced amid accusations of mutual infidelities, and Stone learned his father was deeply in debt. Stone's biographer, James Riordan, sees this as a formative moment. "After that, the whole world is like his parents," says Riordan, whose authorized bio, Stone, appeared last month. "There's always something deeper than the surface truth."

Hoping to find that something deeper, Stone says, "I took off into the world alone." He left Yale after his freshman year in 1965 to teach English in Vietnam. But he became bored and, craving to know "the bottom of life," enlisted in 1967 as an Army infantryman and was sent back to Vietnam. After a few weeks, he says, "I was becoming a jungle animal. I started out cerebral and civilized, and within two months I was operating on instinct."

Like many other soldiers, he was also operating on a range of drugs, from marijuana to LSD. After his discharge in 1968 he returned to the U.S. a heavy and indiscriminate user—a problem that plagued Stone, he says, until 1981, when he kicked a cocaine habit cold turkey.

Soon after he came home, drawing on a talent for writing stories and looking, he has said, for a way to "channel my rage" at the injustice he perceived in Vietnam, he enrolled in New York University's film program, graduating in 1971. After years of writing while getting by on odd jobs, he hit it big, winning the Best Screenplay Oscar in 1978 with Midnight Express.

The rage didn't disappear. James Woods, who starred in Stone's breakout film as a director, 1986's Salvador (and who plays White House Chief of Staff H.R. Haldeman in Nixon), recalls how he and Stone would pound one another's heads on the floor of their Mexican inn over artistic disagreements. "He bends you out of shape," says Woods. "He keeps you on edge—but he gets performances you didn't know you had to give."

Anger has made an imprint, in one way or another, on every Stone project, from Platoon, Wall Street and Born on the Fourth of July to JFK, Natural Born Killers and, now, Nixon. Stone himself sees its source as fear. "It has taken many forms in my life," he says. "I can get a stab of fear anytime. Sometimes you can handle it, sometimes you can't. I can get moody and defensive." Or, friends say, turn it on others. When he filmed her autobiography in Heaven & Earth, says writer Le Ly Hayslip, Stone could be a bully. "His energy is too strong," she says. "He knows he can make people respect and fear him."

Which may be why he received such a comeuppance in his wrenching divorce from Elizabeth Cox, whom he met when she served as an assistant on his 1981 thriller, The Hand. (Stone's six-year first marriage to Najwa Sarkis, 56, an attaché at the Moroccan mission to the U.N., ended in 1977. They had no children.) During the last few years of their marriage, Stone had numerous affairs, and, in an act of colossal hubris—one Richard Nixon would sympathize with—Stone kept graphic accounts of his extramarital relations in his diaries. Elizabeth found them.

Today Stone's sense of chastisement is clear. "You lose your kids—it is so sad," he says. "I only get a little portion of them now." Then a bit of his old sense of grievance creeps in. "American divorce laws are very tough," he says. "For whatever reason, the system is geared to destroy people." Still, he hopes to rebuild some trust with his ex. "We're trying to work out a friendship," he says.

It is one project among many. He is busy revising an autobiographical novel he wrote at 19. There is Memphis, a film he is developing about the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.—lest we think the new Oliver Stone will be moving on to romantic comedy. And there is Tara, named for the Buddhist deity of compassion. As Stone plays with the child, his face splits in a gap-toothed grin. "I've got a bond with her," he says. "There's a special relationship between a daughter and her father."

Tara's mother, whom Stone met at a New York City nightclub in 1994, says little about herself, except that "the baby makes me happy." Their pairing is, for Stone, uniquely honest. According to Jacqueline, her son has been frank with Chong. "He's said he will not marry her." His need for love, she says, "has been filled by Tara."

Stone would agree. "Love kills the demons," he says, standing, as Chong enters the room and reaches to take the child. But Stone pauses, bends over and kisses their baby girl—once, twice, three times—on the forehead. "I love these moments," he says. "I just don't have enough of them."

-Gregory Cerio, "Oliver's Twist," People magazine, Jan 22 1996

[maboroshi-no]

Hamefura LN11 - Katarina’s post-confession talk with Geordo

Hello! 

This is not a scanlation, but as I was reading Volume 11 of the Hamefura light novel, I felt the need to translate the scenes where Katarina decides to give respectively Geordo and Keith some kind of reply in regards to their previous love confessions.

So first, Geordo’s ! Enjoy!

Context: 

Katarina had a talk with her father the previous day. He advised her to figure out her feelings sooner rather later, else she might realize one day she has already lost the one she loves.

Katarina and Maria had been summoned by the King who wanted to tell them about the succession struggle which occured when the previous king died, and how dark magic had been leaked then

Before meeting the king, Katarina had met a gorgeous blond young man at the shut-in uncle building, who told her she is a horrible person who toys with Geordo’s feelings. Katarina wonders if he might be the shut-in uncle.

After they meet the King, Geordo and Alan met up with Katarina and Maria. 

Geordo and Alan were worried Katarina and Maria might despise them after hearing about what their relatives did. They felt relieved when Katarina and Maria told them they don’t think of them differently

While they escort them to their carriage back, Geordo tells Katarina she has forgotten her bag (which contained the Dark Covenant), so the two of them returns to the parlor to retrieve it.

Katarina’s POV

Katarina: "Thank goodness my bag is here! Thank you for coming with me, Prince Geordo."

I said this after taking back my bag . Prince Geordo smiled, and

Geordo: "No, it's quite alright. I did it on purpose, so please think nothing of it."

he said. Huh? "He did it on purpose?" But what? Looking at my confused face, Geordo made a suggestive smile.

Geordo: "Actually, I realized when we left the room that you were not carrying your bag, but since I wanted to have some alone time with you, I pretended I didn't notice."

I can't believe it! What a schemer! I was taken aback and then Geordo continued. 

Geordo: "*chuckle*. I would also like to thank you once again for the words you said earlier. Since it was you, Katarina, I thought things would probably be alright even after you learn about the royal family's unsightly struggle, but hearing such gracious words really made me happy.

As he said this, his smiling face looked truly happy, which left me dumbfounded. Oh, so that's why! He just wanted to thank me once more! This is what I thought, but

Geordo: "Really, I fell in love with you all over again."

As he said this, he smoothly grabbed my back and stared directly into my eyes.

Katarina: "Eh?!!"

I involuntarily let out a weird yell but Geordo ignored my reaction and with his dazzling prince's smile,

Geordo: "My fiancée is the best! I want to hurry up and marry her!"

This is what he said. I could feel the temperature rising on my face at once. At the same time, what Father told me the other day popped into my head: "Supposing that in the future Prince Geordo really ends up being the one you love, if you keep delaying your marriage then he might break off the engagement in the meanwhile and marry another person. This is even more true since Prince Geordo has to uphold his position as a royal.", "You may lose the one you love while you are still figuring out your own feelings, so you should give it some serious thought so that it won't happen." I couldn't figure out my feelings... But I...

Katarina: "Umm, Prince Geordo, I..."

As I got flustered, I opened my mouth to say something and...

Geordo: "Are you scared?"

he said.

Katarina: "Huh?"

As I stared back at him in shock, his face didn't show his princely smile from earlier anymore, but an expression which looked somewhat painful.

Geordo: "Are you really scared when I approach you like this? I didn't notice it at first but since you shrivel more and more as I approach you, I started to think that maybe you are terrified of me. Am I wrong?"

I was lost for words as the "terrified" word stuck deeply into my heart. From my reaction,

Geordo: "Based on your reaction, I guess I was right. So you have been scared of me approaching you. I am sorry for not realizing it until now.

As he said this, he looked like he was about to cry. Looking at Geordo, this time it was the words of the young man I met earlier that crossed my mind.

Young man / Uncle Stuart?: "Even though he is begging for your love, you always ignore it, hurting him without even knowing it. You are the worst."

He is right. This can't go on like this. I readied myself and said:

Katarina: "Umm, no that's not it. Well, no, you are kinda not completely wrong... The thing is... I am not scared of you approaching me, I..."

For the first time, I expressed in words the feeling that I had buried deep inside my heart all this time.

Katarina: "I am scared of falling in love."

Geordo opened his eyes wide out of shock. Well, that's a given. Of course he would be shocked hearing such a puzzling answer. But this is the truth which has been inside me. At 8 years old, I regained the memories of my past life and soon after, I realized that I was inside an otome game and that I was the villainess in it. And also that my future was filled with doom flags. Katarina's doom was caused by her love for the prince. Seeing the prince she loved falling for another woman (the protagonist), she became jealous, engaged in cruel harassment and doomed herself. After realizing this, this is what I thought. Katarina's love led her to her doom. That's why Katarina must never fall in love. If she falls in love, she may become mad. And then this would be the end. Even while I was completely unaware of it, this feeling had always been deep inside my heart, and because I could not allow myself to be affected by love, I kept away from it. I, no, Katarina Claes can support the love of others, but she will never fall in love herself. She must not. This is how I had been doing, and then Geordo suddenly confessed to me. The prince I had been yearning for before I regained my memories confessed to me. But this feeling, "Katarina must not fall in love. She will be doomed if she falls in love.", had always been deep inside my heart and so I completely dismissed Geordo's feelings. That is why I unconsciously chased away from the corner of my mind the feelings that he had finally confessed to me. And then before I knew it, I forgot about it. I was scared of it. Falling in love, that is. And because of this, I made Geordo sad. It is just like that young man said. I am truly the worst. I must precisely tell him my feelings. I will not run away anymore. This was the first time I saw Geordo with a hurt expression like this, like he is about to cry. Looking at him I hardened my resolve. I picked the words to face the person who went to great trouble to confess his feelings to me.

Katarina: "I have always thought I might be doomed if I fall in love."

Geordo made a puzzled face, but still kept quiet and listened.

Katarina: "This is still true even now. I am scared of falling in love. That's why I couldn't face your feelings and ended up chasing them from the corner of my mind. I am really sorry."

Since I couldn't tell him about the otome game, the content of my explanation was filled with vague terms and I even thought "What is that supposed to mean?!". Even so,

 Geordo: "Thank you for telling me, Katarina. I feel relieved knowing you are not scared of me."

 he said, smiling at me gently, so I felt relieved.

 Geordo: "But the fact that you are scared of love is quite troublesome."

 He was right. "Katarina's love is a scary thing which is connected to her doom". While holding this feeling all this time, I didn't want to recognize this weak part of me and pretended I didn't see it. I did this unconsciously. That's why, even after Father asked me to seriously think about it, my fear took precedence and I delayed the task. But thanks to Geordo I have now fully realized it, so I want to change.

Katarina: "Until now, I had locked my fear in my heart and pretended I didn't see it. But I won't do this anymore. I will properly face my feelings... And then I'll do all I can so that I can face your feelings too, Prince Geordo.

As I said this, Geordo was beaming with happiness. As for me, whom he was looking at, I was now feeling embarrassed. I ended up feeling bashful and then I realized something. I declared I would properly face my own feelings, which is great and all, but then I remembered that right now, I had my doom in sight. The doom I am met with in the FL2 game. If I get doomed, I won't be able to face my feelings. Or more precisely, if things don't go well, I will just disappear from this world. Even at my best, I am the kind of person who can do only one thing at a time. Right now, I won't be able to face my fear of love upfront. 

Katarina: "Umm, Prince Geordo, even though I just said I would face my feelings, I am actually facing some serious trouble right now, and it is only after I overcome them that I will be able to seriously get down to it, so..."

Suddenly taking back my words after making him this happy made me feel terrible, but after I said this, Geordo smiled.

Geordo: "Oh, that's right, you seemed somewhat uneasy since you joined the Ministry of Magic. I don't mind. I have waited all this time already, so a little more won't make a difference. So please rely on me whenever you are in trouble, okay?" 

 Hearing him say this, I felt relieved and thanked him. He had noticed the anxiety I felt since I joined the Ministry, along with my inner feelings. I was shocked. He was a bit off regarding my deeply hidden fear of love that, myself, wasn't aware of, but he still guessed right. It seems like, more than I thought, Geordo has always been watching me. He has always been by my side since I met him at 8 years old. One way or another, he has always helped me whenever I was in trouble. Even if I am now aware that I have been connecting love to my doom, I am still scared of love and I still don't understand it really well. But looking back, Geordo definitely is someone very precious to me. That's why, even if it is embarrassing, I want to tell him my honest feelings. I mustered all the courage I could and then said:

Katarina: "Umm... I am scared of love and I still don't understand this feeling very well, but your confession made me happy. I was really happy that someone as wonderful as you would tell me he loved me."

Handsome, brilliant, kind, reliable. There is no way I would not be happy if such a dreamy man confessed to me. That's right. At that time, when Prince Geordo confessed his feelings to me, I was actually happy. But my fear of anything related to love was stronger, so I immediately locked this feeling deep inside my heart. After I somehow managed to tell him this after all this time, I got so flustered that I dashed out of the parlor, leaving Geordo behind just like that. I want to do something about both my fear of love and this strange bashfulness that I feel because of my lack of immunity to love. My face is burning hot. It must be bright red right now. I ran full speed because I felt so embarrassed, and when I joined up with Maria and Alan, they thought my face was red because I ran. I was glad they did. "Where did Geordo go?" Alan asked me with a quizzical look, "It seems like some business came up", I lied. Right now, I was so embarrassed I couldn't see their faces really well. Finally, Maria and I left the castle and returned to the Ministry of Magic. The feelings that were deep inside my heart that I realized after Geordo pointed them out. I remembered that there was one more person whom I had to convey these feelings to. But I wonder if I'll be able to do it properly. With all the embarrassment I got today, I got a fever so high I could be bedridden.

Geordo POV

I, Geordo Stuart, was summoned by my father the King, Owen Stuart. He informed me that he would tell my fiancée, Katarina Claes, and the Wielder of Light, Maria Campbell, about the royals' unsightly succession struggle which took place in this castle before I was old enough to understand, how dark magic was used and leaked then, and how he would apologize to them as a royal from that time. It wasn't long ago since I heard, got shocked and felt ashamed as a royal about the details of how dark magic was leaked. Hearing this, I also felt terrible in regards to Katarina. I have admiration for my father as a king, I respect his attitude showing resolute fairness, and as a prince, I thought that what he is doing this time too is wonderful. But as simply "Geordo Stuart", my feelings over this were complicated. This is because, upon learning about the errors and the shame of the royals who are also my relatives, I thought Katarina would maybe hold me in contempt or give me a look full of mixed feelings. I had talked a little before to Katarina about the previous king and how there had been deaths occurring during the struggle. At that time too, I was afraid she would hold me in contempt, but with her straightforward eyes, Katarina told me: "You and the previous king are different people. Even knowing about the previous king doesn't change how you are in my eyes". I was so happy then. So things should probably be fine this time too. This is what I hoped. But would she really say the same thing even after hearing about these unsightly killings among relatives? If it were me, I am not sure I would be able to look at the relatives of the people who caused this struggle without holding it against them. As I thought this, my face naturally turned stiff. The time felt horribly long while the King was talking to them. And then, finally, I heard the King leaving. Right after, I and my younger brother Alan who, like me, had been waiting in the room, headed towards the room where Katarina and Maria were. I felt tense just knocking on the door. It was the first time that I felt like this. After hearing familiar voices from the inside of the room, I opened the door. When I entered the room, Katarina and Maria had their faces close, talking about something. They didn't seem to have realized right away that it was us when we entered, so when they saw our faces,

Katarina: "Prince Geordo! Prince Alan!"

Katarina shouted with a surprised face. I told the two of them with my usual smile the words that I had prepared. And then I did what I had to as a royal: I apologized to them for dark magic being leaked as a result of the unsightly struggle of my relatives. I couldn't allow this to end with only the King apologizing. My younger twin Alan also felt the same way. As both Alan and I lowered our heads, a dignified voice replied to us.

Katarina: "I accept your apology."

All while thinking it was extremely improper in such a situation to feel charmed by Katarina's resolute look, Alan and I both expressed our gratitude. And then, as "Geordo Stuart", I asked her a question I personally needed her to answer. 

Geordo: "And so, what do you think of us?"

Alan added to my words.

Alan: "You heard the story, right? That was some horrible stuff. Do you despise us now?"

Silence fell for a moment in the room. I couldn't see Katarina's face.

Katarina: "I already said this before when you told me about your grandfather, but the two of you and the royals who took part in this struggle are different people to begin with. My opinion of the two of you cannot possibly change after hearing this story. Besides, I know each of your personalities very well." 

Her answer was the same as back then. In her eyes that were looking straight at us, I couldn't see any falsehood, nor the contempt I was so worried about. Ah, Katarina really was the woman I imagined.

Maria: "I share the same opinion as Lady Katarina. Hearing this story didn't change my opinion of the two of you."

Maria, who was next to Katarina, also said this, which made me feel relieved once again. We thanked the two of them and told them their carriage back was ready. I escorted Katarina back for the first time in a while, and during that time I noticed she had forgotten the bag she was carrying. At first, I thought of telling her and picking it up myself, but then I reconsidered after this came to mind. If things went well, I could have a chance to be alone with Katarina. And then, things did go well, and my plan to be alone with Katarina succeeded. 

Katarina: "Thank goodness my bag is here! Thank you for coming with me, Prince Geordo."

Katarina picked up her bag, and as she innocently looked back at me, I smiled and

Geordo: "No, it's quite alright. I did it on purpose, so please think nothing of it."

As I said this, she looked extremely shocked. Katarina is so pure, she could have never expected this.

Geordo: "Actually, I realized when we left the room that you were not carrying your bag, but since I wanted to have some alone time with you, I pretended I didn't notice."

As I said this, smiling, Katarina froze up with her mouth agape. This face too was cute.

Geordo: "*chuckle*. I would also like to thank you once again for the words you said earlier. Since it was you, Katarina, I thought things would probably be alright even after you learn about the royal family's unsightly struggle, but hearing such gracious words really made me happy.

After I said this, Katarina's mouth was now closed and she seemed lost in thoughts. She was probably thinking I wanted to be alone with her only because I wanted to apologize. It would be troublesome if she thought that, so I continued with this.

Geordo: "Really, I fell in love with you all over again."

As I said this, I grabbed her back and stared directly into her aqua blue eyes.

Geordo: "My fiancée is the best! I want to hurry up and marry her!"

In front of me, Katarina was now bright red. It seems like I could properly convey my intentions, so I felt relieved. However,

Katarina: "Umm, Prince Geordo, I..."

I sensed "that sign" from the now flustered Katarina, which made me sad. And then I finally asked her about the thing that I had been worried about.

Geordo: "Are you scared?"

As I asked this, Katarina yelled "Huh?!" with a shocked face. 

Geordo: "Are you really scared when I approach you like this? I didn't notice it at first, but since you shrivel more and more as I approach you, I started to think that maybe you are terrified of me. Am I wrong?"

Since I confessed my feelings to her, Katarina would often stiffen up whenever I approached her. I was happy at first since I thought it meant she was now conscious of me, but lately I have the feeling that this stiffening withering condition is a manifestation of her fear. I couldn't accept a reality where the person I love the most in the world would be scared of me, so I always pretended I didn't notice it. And today I realized this was wrong. Even after hearing about this horrible story about my relatives, Katarina didn't look at me differently and wholeheartedly accepted it, like it was natural. So I want to properly accept her feelings too. Even if doing so would be oh, so painful to me. So I finally confronted her about what I have been averting my eyes from. I'll ask her myself and get hurt. And then, looking at Katarina who was lost for words, I knew my guess wasn't off, and I felt like my heart was torn to pieces. While I thought I might shamefully end up in tears, 

Geordo: "Based on your reaction, I guess I was right. So you have been scared of me approaching you. I am sorry for not realizing it until now.

As I said this, Katarina looked like she realized something and then said this.

Katarina: "Umm, no that's not it. Well, no, you are not completely wrong... The thing is... I am not scared of you approaching me, I..."

Katarina thought a little and...

Katarina: "I am scared of falling in love."

This is what she said. I was extremely shocked by this completely unexpected answer. She is afraid of falling in love? To begin with, I have never seen Katarina being scared. She has always been cheerful and bright, and acted like there wasn't anything she was afraid of. Besides, she reads romance novels and has been enjoying them. As a result, given she is dense whenever it comes to love, I just thought she was a late bloomer like her adopted younger brother. But it seems like it wasn't all there was to it. Katarina continued with a resolute face.

Katarina: "I have always thought I might be doomed if I fall in love."

"She will be doomed if she falls in love"? What kind of thinking process could result in such a conclusion? This is just so strange. However, since Katarina is making such a serious face, I kept silent and waited for the rest of the explanation. 

Katarina: "This is still true even now. I am scared of falling in love. That's why I couldn't face your feelings and ended up chasing them from the corner of my mind. I am really sorry."

As she said this, Katarina lowered her head. Honestly, I couldn't help wondering how she could reach such a conclusion, and there were also many points which bothered me, but even so, I felt deeply relieved.

 Geordo: "Thank you for telling me, Katarina. I feel relieved knowing you are not scared of me."

I felt something akin to despair when I thought she might be scared of me, but just knowing this was not the case greatly saved me. Still,

 Geordo: "But the fact that you are scared of love is quite troublesome."

 I am glad Katarina is not terrified of me, but I can't bring myself to approach her if she is scared of love like this. Katarina is really precious to me, so I don't want to scare her needlessly. As I tried to think of ways around this, Katarina said

Katarina: "Until now, I had locked my fear in my heart and pretended I didn't see it. But I won't do this anymore. I will properly face my feelings... And then I'll do all I can so that I can face your feelings too, Prince Geordo.

These were truly joyful words. A wide smile naturally formed on my face. My unrequited love started at childhood and lasted for so long, even though the one I love is my fiancée. I kept trying to convey my feelings, but they didn't reach her, and when I finally thought they did, she would just forget them. These had been such long days. She has finally said she would face my feelings and consider them. I have never been this happy in my life. I felt like I had finally been rewarded a little for keeping with this unrequited love. As I thought this, feeling deeply moved,  Katarina shyly said this:

Katarina: "Umm, Prince Geordo, even though I just said I would face my feelings, I am actually facing some serious trouble right now, and it is only after I overcome them that I will be able to seriously get down to it, so..."

Hearing these words, I remembered how Katarina seemed different after joining the Ministry of Magic. She seemed uneasy about something. I observed the same thing when we entered the Magic Academy. I noticed a long time ago that Katarina had some kind of secret she wouldn't talk to us about. Since she wouldn't talk about it, I pretended I didn't notice and just made sure she could feel at ease and that I could always help her if something happened. This time, I was glad that she talked about it for the first time. 

Geordo: "Oh, that's right, you seemed somewhat uneasy since you joined the Ministry of Magic. I don't mind. I have waited all this time already, so a little more won't make a difference. So please rely on me whenever you are in trouble, okay?" 

As I said this, smiling, Katarina looked relieved and thanked me. I have waited all this time already. A little more really won't make a difference. I was really happy I could hear about Katarina's real thoughts. As I felt a warm and fuzzy feeling in my chest, Katarina made a somewhat grim face. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but Katarina was faster.

Katarina: "Umm... I am scared of love and I still don't understand this feeling very well, but your confession made me happy. I was really happy that someone as wonderful as you would tell me he loved me."

Katarina said this, her face bright red, and then she ran and left the parlor, her face still red. I was left all alone... I remained here, unable to move. Katarina's words kept repeating in my head over and over again. My confession of love and my approaches made her stiffen up. There were days when I thought that this late blooming girl didn't really enjoy my approaches and that she may even find them bothersome. I realized that for her, my confession was "exciting, but not really something she was happy about". But then she said: "I was really happy that someone as wonderful as you would tell me he loved me.". As I muttered to myself that I needed to confirm that the words from earlier were not a figment of my imagination, my body suddenly became hot. Right now, my face must probably be so red there could be steam coming out of it. I have always loved her. This special girl who changed my gray world. This fact never changed even while growing up, and being with her, I steadily felt so many emotions I didn't know before. Today, I realized for the first time that being overcome with extreme happiness would render me unable to move.

[peach-and-bugs]

❤️Fallen Star - Wanda Maximoff x fem!Reader (she/they pronouns)❤️ Marvel canon divergence

Ch 1 ❤️Chapter 10❤️Ch 11

Fanfiction master list

Summary: You don’t remember much of what happened during the experiments, or before them honestly. Your mind seems to be protecting you from that somehow. You’ve been on your own for a year now and you can’t recall what normal life used to be like. Now, everything is mixed up and you’ve somehow been taken in by a group that calls themselves the Avengers. It’s a good situation, but it still has its challenges. However, you don’t expect the quiet girl that never talks to you but is always around for some strange reason to be one of those challenges. -❤️- (y/n is a former HYDRA experiment that was assumed to be a failure when she encountered the mind stone, but what HYDRA didn’t realize was that they were given the ability to morph her inner being into the form of light, aiding in her accidental escape. Now, after a year of running from people who had no clue they should be looking for her, y/n has been taken in by the Avengers.)

Warnings: cannon complacent violence, guns, explosions, death

Word Count: 4,391

A/N: And after yet another month+ long break from writing a chapter, we're back! This was one I was both excited about and dreading writing because I wanted to get it right. but anyway, it's time for the civil war era, which is one of my favorites and I intend for it to be quite angsty, so buckle up (also I finished and I'm posting this around 3:30 in the morning, so please ignore mistakes for now.) As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading! ❤️

Fallen Star Tag List: @blackxwidowsxwife @fleet-prodigy @lattayhottay16

Wanda Maximoff Tag List:

General Tag List:

-❤️-

Months had passed by faster than you would have expected. You'd started spending more and more time at Wanda’s side, so much so that the others had begun to notice. Wanda would confide in you more often than not and you took the time to listen to whatever fuzzy thoughts she needed to expel with a warm presence. In turn, Wanda continued trying to help you regain the memory of your former life. But recently, you'd begun to seek her out simply for her company. 

Some afternoons you'd spar together in the gym, or you'd relax in Wanda's room, watching an old television show together or just talking into the night. Now, however, you were lounging together in your room. Wanda had been dozing on and off after a long session of morning training with Steve. She currently buried her face in one of your pillows with both arms wrapped around it, her breath moving in and out of her parted lips. You let her rest and flipped through a book Natasha had suggested you read. It was an old murder mystery, which wouldn’t normally be your thing, yet you found it quite interesting this time. 

You had to look up from your book when you heard a chuckle. Wanda had left the door wide open when she’d come in and flopped beside you, and you hadn’t bothered to get up and shut it. So now, looking up, your eyes meet an amused pair of blue. You scowled your brow, despite the smile that tugged at your lips as you shut your book.

“She seems comfortable,” Pietro leaned against the frame of your opened door, arms crossed in front of him.

“Shouldn’t you also be in bed, Piet?” you asked, arching a brow. Wanda had been updating you regularly about his condition and by your understanding, he had only been cleared for supervised activity. A walk along to your room didn’t seem to fit that definition. He shook his head and laughed lowly.

“Wanda worries about me too much,” he sighed and turned his gaze to her at your side, smiling fondly. “You know I’m older, right?” he asked, looking your way again. You laughed and rolled your eyes.

“You have mentioned that at least once before,” the Socovian snorted, continuing to smile. “How’s the recovery coming along?”

“I would have thought Wanda would keep you posted?” 

“She has, but I want to know what you think,” he tilted his head with a curious hum, then sighed after a beat. 

“Yaknow, I’m feeling better. I can walk and eat. I feel ready to take care of myself. But sleepy over there…” he paused, watching Wanda again. “She worries,” you nodded with him, eyes glancing down at her as well. She sighed against the pillow, holding it ever so tighter as she took in a long breath. She appeared to be smiling and you couldn’t help but wonder what she might be dreaming about. 

“It’s just what she’s used to, I guess,” he sighed again, running a hand through his hair, which had gotten considerably longer since his accident. “And I hate that she’s gotten so good at it,”

“It’s in her nature,” you murmured, looking back up at him. “When we had our little run-in, she was so worried about hurting me and she didn’t even know me yet,” you mused fondly. 

“Now she’d helped me recover what I lost. Not because she has to, but she wants me to have that back, I guess,” Pietro sighed again and nodded.

“Wanda values those better parts of our childhood. She wants you to have that too,” he paused, chuckling. “She talks about you a lot,” you blinked, surprised by the comment, only he turned his attention back to Wanda before you ask what he meant. The redhead began to stretch beside you, crunching her face as she reached her arms forward. Her fingertips blindly brushed against your arm as she did so, but you made no motion to notice. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting yours as you smiled her way. 

“Hi,” you said, failing to suppress the grin forming on your lips. She of course did not incline that her brother was just by the door and you knew she wasn’t going to be as pleased as Pietro was.

“Hi,” she managed, her voice groggy as she snuggled up with the pillow again as her eyes began to focus after blinking slowly. It took her a second to recall where she was and when she looked up at you again, the faintest pink tinted her cheeks. She sat up promptly, scooting a space away from you as she cleared her throat. “Sorry, I didn't mean to -” she started till her eyes caught her brothers. 

“Pietro! You’re not meant to be up,” she began to scramble off of the bed, marching toward him with outstretched hands. The taller twin began to laugh as she pestered him with questions. “You can’t be walking around without supervision! What if you fall-” Pietro laughed as she began to shove him from the door. 

“I told you!” you called from your seat as he began to walk away with her. 

“I didn’t wanna wake you, Wan. You looked so cozy,” he said with a bright grin as Wanda’s scowl grew into something made up of embarrassment rather than just her initial annoyance. She glanced at you only for a second and you gave her a tiny wave before forcefully shoving her brother down the hall and back to his room. 

“Bye Pietro!” you called, craning your neck to peek out of the door from your bed. You leaned back into your bed, taking up your book again in your lap, but you couldn’t quite seem to get back into it. Instead, you kept thinking about what Pietro had said.  

“‘She talks about you a lot,’” repeated in your head and you couldn’t contain the smile that formed on your lips. Only when you realized, you groaned, flopping on your back and covering your face with your hands as you bit the inside of your cheek. All this time with Wanda had started to make you feel different. 

You knew what it could be, but you weren't going to admit it. Not to yourself and certainly not to her. Besides, what if it was just a silly, fleeting thing that you got over? Or what if she didn’t feel that way- Your bumbling thoughts were interrupted by a chime from your wall.

“Good afternoon, Miss y/n. Natasha and Steve have called for a meeting in the briefing room. You will be there in 5 minutes,” you arched a brow in confusion, sitting up to check if Friday had been right. Sure enough, briefing room, five minutes. You sighed and got out of bed, stretching as you walked out of your room and shut the door behind you. 

-*-

“Alright, the gist of it is that we have a lead on Rumlow,” Steve explained as Natasha pulled up a photo on the room's big screen. You sat at the table with Wanda and Sam, but Vision didn’t seem to be attending. “Now we’re not sure what he’s after. Some chatter says he’s planning to hit the police station in Logos, but again, we’re not certain about anything,” you raised your hand and he nodded towards you.

“Was Rumlow that guy that you kind of…” you paused, gesturing with your hand “dropped a building on, for lack of a better term,” Steve took in a breath through his nose and scratched the bow above his lip.

“Yep. indeed he was. Thank you for the reminded, y/n,” he finished, turning back to the presentation. Wanda, who sat just diagonally across the table from you made a face and you shrugged. “Wanda, you’ll be running visuals with Natasha while Sam and y/n are our eyes in the sky,” you glanced Wanda’s way instinctively, then back at Steve without another word.

“We’re leaving now. Whatever’s happening is going down in the morning and we’ll make it just in time so go suit up,” he dismissed you with a wave of his hand. You got up promptly 

“Will Vision be coming?” Wanda asked and you stalled at the door, waiting for her to catch up.

“No. we figured he’d stand out just a touch,” Natasha interjected as Steve left the room. “Stealth is the priority here,” Wanda nodded then left with you without another word about it. 

“Why’d you ask about Vision?” you interrupted the silence as you walked with her when curiosity got the better of you. She shrugged as you turned down the hall to the compound elevators and pushed the down button. 

“Just curious maybe,” she looked up at the blinking numbers above the elevator. You watched her carefully, trying to catch something you could be missing. “We haven’t had a full team mission yet. I thought maybe this could be it,” she stepped into the open elevator as she finished talking. You hadn’t noticed the doors open, you were so focused on her. You rode down in silence beside her, leaning your lower back on the wall as you snuck glances at her. She’d taken out her phone and was typing quickly. Assumedly texting Pietro to let him know what was up, you guessed. 

“Have you been to Africa?” Wanda asked just as the doors opened up.

“Hm?” You hummed then shook your head. “No, I haven’t. At least I don't think I have,” you said with a slightly smug smile, enjoying your one joke about your memory loss just a little bit. Wanda’s eyes widened slightly and she shied away, a slight flush coming over her complexion again.

“Sorry. That must have slipped my mind…” she mumbled, walking with you to the gear room. You laughed and shook your head. 

“It was funny! Don’t worry about it,” you assured her with another shiny smile. “But no, I not sure if I’ve been or not,” you pulled the door open, gesturing for her to go in before you. Sam was practically ready to go and was sat fidgeting with some of Redwing’s code before heading out. 

“Move it, bird brain!” you called in a joking manner as you walked in behind Wanda, the door shutting with a quiet clock. Sam arched a brow with a lopsided smile as he tisked. He finished with Redwing and tucked him away, making a face as he passed you and you in turn stuck your tongue out at him. 

“Nice, y/n. Very mature,” he called as he pushed the doors open with his back. 

“Says the guy who started it!” you yelled back. You heard Wanda chuckle from her locker and you turned to see her shaking her head. “What?” you asked, though you smiled, knowing what she was probably going to say.

“You’re never mature with him,” she commented, pulling out some of the more “undercover” attire she suspected she might need given her surveillance assignment. 

“Yeah, I know. But Sam’s hardly serious,” Wanda hummed, moving to a more secluded changing room to get dressed. “Don’t forget the baseball cap!” you called to her as she left. You heard her chuckle under her breath and imagined her shaking her head again.

-*-

You landed in Lagos when it was still dark and Steve ran down the plan once more for you. Around five, you moved into your positions. Steve was hidden in a hotel room that overlooked the police station while Wanda and Natasha took up seats at a small cafe just across the way. You sat with Sam on the roof of a taller building, also facing the station. 

“All right, what do you see?” Steve asked over coms, his question targeted Wanda. While this was a very real mission, Nat and Steve had professed that this would also be treated as a team-building exercise of sorts for the three of you. You watched Wanda from above, though her face was obscured by an umbrella as well as the hat, which she’d worn per your suggestion.

“Standard beat cops. Small station. Quiet street. It’s a good target,” Wanda observed.

“There’s an ATM in the south corner, which means…” Steve was stalling, wanting Wanda to come up with the answer herself rather than telling her.

“Cameras,” right on the money. 

“Both cross streets are one way”

“So, compromised escape routes”

“Means our guy doesn't care about being seen, he isn't afraid to make a mess on the way out,” he stalled in his breath, considering possibilities. “You see that Range Rover halfway up the block?”

“Yeah, the red one? It’s cute” 

“It's also bulletproof,” Natasha interjected, “which means private security, which means more guns, which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us.”

“You guys know I can move things with my mind, right?” you had to refrain from laughing over coms. Sam noticed and shook his head with a smirk as your smile turned to a scowl at the sight of him.

“Looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature,” Natasha added. You could see her sipping her coffee and imagine her eyes shifting behind her sunglasses.

“Anybody ever tell you you're a little paranoid?” Sam asked upper coms. Now it was his turn to shoot you a grin. You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the street.

“Not to my face,” you could hear the smirk Natasha was keeping concealed in her voice. “Why? Did you hear something?”

“Eyes on target, folks,” Steve interrupted now, ceasing the conversation altogether and focusing up once more. “This is the best lead we've had on Rumlow in six months. I don't want to lose him,”

“If he sees us coming that won't be a problem. He kind of hates us,” you nudged Sam’s shoulder, getting him to knock it off when strange movement on the street caught your attention along with Sam’s

“Sam, see that garbage truck?” you exchanged a mutual look with Sam and nodded “Tag it,” doing as he was instructed, Sam released Redwing from his back with the click of a button. The little camera robot hovered for a moment before it was flown down to provide visuals of the truck. You leaned close to Sam to get a better look from your perch.

“Give me X-ray,” with a click of a few buttons, you watched as he grimaced. 

“That truck’s loaded for max weight. And the driver’s armed” Sam turned to you and you nodded. You both knew it was time to get going, so Sam started up his thrusters and you got your powers working, warming them up for a quick getaway.

“It’s a battering ram,” Natasha added with a breath.

“Go now,” 

“Why?” you heard Wanda ask as you all began moving. 

“He’s not hitting the police.'' With Steve’s order, you jump into action with Sam, both diving to the ground with you at the front in a move you'd been practicing for some time now. Just before you hit the ground, you reached up and Sam grabbed your hands. Normally, he would have strained himself flying like this, but strangely, when you activated your powers, they helped you both grip on to one another, making the move possible in short inclinations.

Moving quickly, he managed to turn around and sort of launch you into the air in a corkscrew motion to give you an added boost. Unlike Wanda, you couldn’t quite support yourself in the air with your powers. So ratchet than flying, you'd learned to use your powers like a jump boost of sorts, which helped run across spread-out roofs like you were now. And Sam’s help gave you some additional air that you wouldn’t have been able to get otherwise. 

Sam ducked back into the city once he knew you'd had been set up to get hold of Steve and you kept running towards the scene. You could see the truck speeding up now and it Tapppeared to be heading for a building with writing that reads “Institute of Infectious Disease” on the outside. Your stomach dropped with a familiar kind of dread for what they might be after. 

You arrived a little late and watched as Steve was launched from the air, similarly to how you had been, and began sparing with men on the ground. You made your way to the roof with the familiar clanging and wooshing of the Captain's shield echoing below you. You landed on a bridge-like part of the roof with one last boosted jump and skid across the gravel lining, alerting the two men with rather large guns to your existence.

“Hello boys,” you said with a smug smile. Guns began to click and with a pound of your fist into your open palm, you manifested a sparkling gold shield in front of you. You charged forward, bullets rickshaw till you fully ran and slid across the roof and between the two men, getting behind them long enough to knock one off his feet. You worked to deflect the other one’s attacks till you hit him square in the chest with an extra powered punch. 

“Body armor, AR-15s. I make seven hostiles,” Steve said over crackling coms. Sam appeared on the roof as you continued to fight the first of the men. You could hear the other one begin to get up but didn’t have the time to worry as Sam handled him. Hitting your attacker square in the jaw as well as with an uppercut to the ribs seemed to do the job and you turned to Sam with sweat trickling down your brow. You moved over to him and gave him a knuckle bump as he nodded with a heaving breath.

“I make 5,” Sam said over coms. 

“We make 5,” you clarified, moving on to the next wave below. You stopped before jumping down and looked up for the familiar sound of Wanda’s magic as she flew overhead, landing on the main level as she left a red pulse in her wake. She quickly manifested a shield similar to your own (which you'd helped her learn), blocking a barrage of bullets till she could grab her attacker and fling him backward with her magic.

“Sam,” she called and your partner flew down, knocking into the flying guy with his wing and slamming him to the ground. 

“Four,” he said as he walked off. 

“Do you need to count!” you called just before jumping from the roof, cushioning your landing with a pulse of your magic that kept you on your feet. With the outer ground floor secured you had a moment to breathe and did a short jog over to Wanda. You grabbed her shoulder gently and smiled. “Hey, you alright,” she nodded with a quick smile of her own and you gave her a curt nod, squeezing her shoulder just before turning back to the mission. Looking up you saw Redwing scanning the building and taking a headcount of the remaining hostels in the area. 

“Rumlow’s on the third floor,” he reported when the drone had finished up. Steve nodded and turned to Wanda, looking right in her eye to assure her attention. 

“Wanda, just like we practiced,” He barked as he walked, pointing at her as he looked up at the building.

“What about the gas?” the Sakovian asked from beside you. 

“Get it out,” Steve’s fast-paced walk turned into a sprint as he jumped onto the roof of one of the parked trucks. You watched as Wanda strained, using much of her efforts to lift Steve quite high and guide him through one of the large windows that walled off the third floor. once he was through, another wave of hostels moved in from where the truck had crashed. 

“I’m covering you!” you yelled as gunfire rang out, pressing your back to Wanda as you made ye another shield, only bigger to cover the both of you. Wanda leaned her back on you as she focused on moving the gas, using you as a way to physically relieve some of the pressure from using her magic so much. Periodically you managed to send a blast into one of the men shooting when they got too close, but your effort was primarily working to keep both Wanda and her shield up. 

“Rumlow has a biological weapon,” you heard Steve over the coms ad Wanda dispersed the gas into the air. 

“I’m on it,” Nat’s voice rang out now. You kept an ear out for anything of pertinent importance or orders over the coms but focused your attention on Wanda. She’d keeled over, hands on her knees as she worked to keep her breath regulated. You came up beside her gently, tentatively rubbing circles in her back with your palm. 

“Hey, talk to me,” you murmured. “You ok?” you asked. She nodded, eventually standing fully as she caught her breath. She smiled at you, though it appeared weak as her chest continued to rise and fall at a pace that felt to fact. 

“Let’s take it easy,” explosions began to ring out from behind the building and Steve sounded over coms again. 

“Sam. He's in an AFV heading north” Wanda turned to you, reaching out her hands. You shook her head, knowing what she was trying to do, but she relented, grabbing your hands and wrapping them around her shoulders. With little to no warning, she pushed off the ground and you had no choice but to hold onto her tight. She focused her energy to round her feet and in her right hand as her left came up to wrap around your waist, pressing you close as she flew you in the same direction as same. 

“Wanda, this in no way taking it easy!” you yelped over the rushing air around you. Wanda only laughed in response and you could feel it reverberate in her chest with the proximity between you both. You held on a little tighter after that. 

“I got four, they're splitting up” you heard Sam yell in person rather than over the coms from his perch on a tin roof as you landed in the market with Wanda. Bistanderds scattered from your landing spot and you promptly apologized as Wanda continued, dragging you along in the chase.

“I got the two on the left” you spotted Natasha running over the hoods of taxies down a different street of the market. As you moved inward, you watched Steve do the same till he dove into a crowd. 

“They ditched their gear,” he started. You stopped running for a moment with Wanda to listen. “It's a shell game now. One of them has the payload” you didn’t see it, but you heard the explosion followed by the collective screaming from marketgoers as Steve was attacked. Wanda tried pulling you through, but with the sudden divulgence into chaos, it was difficult to get any kind of opening. Especially since you were going in the opposite direction of practically everyone else. 

“We need to get to Steve!” Wanda insisted as she continued to try and move. She went to try and fly you both again, but you pushed her fist down, stopping her for the moment. 

“You're tired, Wanda. We’ll make it, just give it a moment,” She stared into your eyes as people swarmed around you but gave in with a nod. You took the lead this time, guiding her through the frantic crowd to the clearing that appeared to be forming around Steve. 

You pushed forward, trying to get some kind of visual. When you did, you realized he was soloing with Rumlow and you felt your heart sink. You moved faster, shouldering and elbowing your want though as anxiety began to pulse through your throat. The realization that you could be too late didn’t hit you till you skidded to the edge of the crowd, finally in earshot of the scene. 

Rumlow smiled menacingly up at Steve, who had a frozen look on his face as if he had just seen a ghost. His face was coiled and burned from their previous encounter and you stood, petrified as he spoke, your grip on Wanda’s hand tightening as your eyes widened. 

“He said to me, ‘Please tell Rogers. When you gotta go, you gotta go.’” his grin curled as his brows furrowed in a crazed delight. “And you're coming with me,” you noticed the bomb vest too late, only when he pulled out the trigger. 

“Steve!” you screeched, beginning to move forward as there was a burst of orange light around Rumlow only to be forced to the dusty ground by Wanda’s hands as she reached out in front of her. Steve turned in a mixture of amazement and horror, similar to your expression as Wanda began to contort her hands and arms, groaning at the strain of heaping the explosion contained between the walls of her magic till Rumlow was shot into the air. Only she couldn’t hold it long enough. 

He exploded right beside the windows of an office building, multiple stories high. Wanda knelt to the ground, the hand covering her face moving to her mouth in horror realizing what she had done. Steve stared wide eyes up at what was now a burning hole and slowly reached for his earpiece. 

“Sam… We need… Fire and Rescue… on the south side of the building. We gotta get up there…” he asked between panting breaths. You remained frozen in place due to shock and the rushing adrenalin that pounded in your ears. Wanda practically collapsed to the ground, tears burning her eyes as she swallowed a sob. 

Only that shook you from the frozen staring and you moved. You practically fell again as you scrambled to your feet, your suit dirtied by the sandy ground as you took her into your arms. You wrapped one arm over her chest, the other over her head as she began to cry. Sirens began to blare in the distance, honing in on the three of you. But all you heard was the mingling of Wanda’s trembling cries and your shaking, hushed whispers as you tried to soothe her. You went as far as obstructing her view of the damage as you promised her that it was a mistake.

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter twelve

Chapter Twelve

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: spencers mom has a bad day at the doctor's and so spencer thinks he's going to have a bad day too but he ends up having the best day of his entire life.

talk of pregnancy, celebratory sex, oral (female receiving), grinding, no penetration, serious deep talks after sex about their most depressive episodes, sharing trauma and making sure they know the other is loved regardless of what goes on in their mind. it's a rough one so read with caution

word count: 4.5K

from the beginning <3

He was up before Amoreena, awaking for the second time that morning to the sound of his alarm, kissing Y/N on the forehead before leaving their bed, she simply laid there and watched him get ready.

Most of his clothes were here now, every time he was near his apartment he brought more and more things home with him. Because that wasn’t his home, it hadn’t been for a long time, even when he lived there it was just a trove of books and a bed he slept on occasionally.

They were probably going to move all his stuff over in the summer, after the second wedding… after the girls meet Taylor, and hopefully when Y/N’s actually pregnant and not too sick or tired to help.

“Come here,” she whispers before he can slip out of the room, “kiss your wife.”

He can’t help but smile as he bounds towards the bed, jumping in and wrapping her up in his arms. He smothers her face in kisses, making her laugh, still half asleep as she let him manhandle her.

“I love you,” he reminded her.

“We love you too,” she replied with a smile, answering for Amoreena even though she was still asleep down the hall, “don’t wake her up yet, she needs all her rest for today.”

“I’ll be quiet,” he responds with a smile, kissing her again before he finally gets out of the bed, if not he would have stayed there forever.

He tiptoes down the hall and into Amoreena’s room, kissing her sweet little forehead lightly before exiting just as quietly. It was like he was never there.

He snuck down the stairs quietly, locked the door behind himself on the way out, and took off down the driveway in his old blue Volvo amazon, paying extra attention to the path for any kitties or Rufus out on their morning strolls.

It didn’t take long for a happy day to go sour when he was in a doctor's office with his mom. Those were the worst places he could go with her, especially on a bad day. Her mind was playing tricks on her, she really didn’t like hospitals or government buildings, even lawyers' offices stressed her out.

Today she was convinced he wasn’t really her son, Spencer, and that he was actually leading her to be a government experiment. It was hard to see her struggle, especially on a day they needed to ask her serious questions while she sat still. It was the fact she had to stay awake for 24 hours that triggered the episode, the EEG requiring her mind to be deprived of sleep. It was rough, she barely knew him. They wouldn’t have the test results for a while but he already knew it wasn’t good.

He dropped her back off at the home as quickly as he could, not able to deal with the verbal abuse any longer, he didn’t even say goodbye. The woman he dropped off was his mother on the outside but not on the inside today. It was really hard to look at her and know her, but not see that same look in her eyes.

By the time he’s returning to the farm, it’s 11:45 and he’s exhausted.

He finds Y/N in the bedroom, lying in bed in just a t-shirt and her underwear, completely sound asleep with the blankets thrown off the bed. She looks so beautiful, he slips out of his clothes to match her, sliding into bed beside her and just looking at her perfect face.

He presses a kiss to her shoulder that startles her awake, “oh god, Spencer!” she places her hand on her heart as she calms down.

“Sorry,” he smiles, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in closer.

“How’s your mom?” Her tired words meet his ears and his smile dies.

“Not great, really don’t want to talk about it yet,” he was honest with her, snuggling in closer as she hummed in agreement to drop it. “How was Amoreena’s morning?”

“I told Amoreena I wouldn’t tell you, but I don’t need to you to freak out in front of all the kids or cry or pass out in front of all them, but there’s a positive pregnancy test on her all about me project,” she explains it like she’s about to say it’s just Amoreena’s from 8 years ago…

He pulls back slowly, looking into her eyes as she smiles wider and wider, “you’re pregnant?”

She nods her head as her smile gets bigger and toothier, she’s wrapping her arms around him so tight it’s like he can’t breathe for multiple reasons.

“We did it, Spencer, I made you a daddy again,” the words carry from her mouth in a beautiful tune.

He’s holding her back so gently, afraid to squeeze too hard and hurt her and the tiny little life that’s starting inside her. He’s silent, overjoyed but absolutely dumbstruck at the fact it’s real. A month ago he thought about walking into traffic after work and just seeing what happened, now he was a father of 2 with a wife and a happy farm and a life that was good.

A life he deserved.

All thanks to a beautiful little girl with an interest in dinosaurs and making new friends. Amoreena was an angel sent from heaven, improving both of their lives greatly, and now they were making another.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, oh my god yes, I’m just,” he didn’t know what words to say and it was evident. “Amoreena knows?”

She nodded softly, “she now knows girl parts make eggs, boy parts make sperm, and that adults have sex but you can only make a baby at 25, she really didn’t seem to be all that interested in the science, but she’s excited to be a big sister.”

“Wow,” it all caught up to him then, he placed his hand on her stomach softly, “hi little one.”

Y/N laid back against the bed, pulling her shirt up so he could see the barely-there bump, “It’s mostly leftover’s from Amoreena, but yeah, there’s another one in there.”

He couldn’t help himself from running his hands over the curve of her stomach, thinking about Amoreena being in there once upon a time and how tiny she must have been. It was even weirder to think that a part of her was once even in him.

“It’s strange to think that I jerked off into a cup and you made the most perfect kid on earth with it… it just feels like it doesn’t add up. She’s so perfect I can’t believe she was once a part of us both,” he can’t help but let his inner monologue seep out, she didn’t mind it, she loved hearing how his mind worked.

“I can’t wait to see you holding this little one,” her hands joined his on her stomach, the shape of her forefingers and thumbs making a heart over her bare belly.

Spencer leaned in and kissed right in the middle, beside her belly button, in love with whoever was in there already.

“Amoreena had a dream last night too,” Y/N cuts into his little moment, “guess how many sisters she said she had.”

“8?” Spencer can’t help but smile.

She nods, “I don’t know what it is about this house but the good dreams always come true, who knows how many babies are in there right now.”

“I hope just one for now,” he says in all honesty, “I really want time with just one little one, you and Amoreena. A family of four for a bit and then the twins, that’s how it was in the dream.”

“Did they have names?”

“You called them Elly, Junie, tho and Cordelia, and you said there were 3 sets of twins, two after Cordelia,” he remembers it all as if he was really there, whispering all the words against her stomach, his cheek resting on the band of her underwear as he laid between her legs with his arms around her.

“Amoreena, Elizabeth, Juniper, Theodora, and Cordelia were all the options I was choosing from last time,” she says with the widest smile, “how the heck did your mind know that?”

“It felt very real, which is why I was so worried about where I was, I don’t know how I could have missed anything but now I know that part was just my anxiety,” Spencer rationalized it. “Amoreena probably had the better version of that future in her dream last night.”

“I was having a great dream before you came back,” she teases him, running her fingers through his hair as he continues to kiss her stomach.

He loops his fingers around the band of her underwear, sliding it down just low enough to really kiss where that baby of his is hiding out. She lifts her hips into the contact, letting him slip them down her legs and completely off, she spreads her legs even more.

He takes his time pressing a kiss to every single inch of her, her skin is soft, her leg hair is prickly on his hands and his cheeks but it’s nice, he rubs his face against her like a cat marking his territory as she continued to scratch his scalp.

He spread her open with two fingers, he presses a soft kiss to her clitoris and all the way down to her opening before licking a wet stripe up the sensitive skin. The moan she releases is the loudest one he’s heard on her yet, it was really the first time he’s been allowed to really enjoy her.

“It’s important for your partner to help with the stretching in the third trimester,” she teases him, “but they don’t mention anything about starting too early being a bad thing.”

“I don’t want to disrupt anything in there,” he worries aloud, letting her decide if it’s okay.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she laughed, “I don’t think you’d reach them, but if you’re really worried there are other ways to help.”

“Such as,” he asks, lowering his face back down to her wet heat, continuing to explore her with his tongue as he expects her to talk.

“You, um you can, shit, wow,” she props herself up on her elbows to get a better look at what he’s doing as she stalls for a few minutes, “just rub yourself over me, Spencer please, I want more of you.”

She grips him by his cheeks and pulls him up into a kiss, both of them rushing to push his boxers down and off his legs, she spreads her own once more so he can press against her.

His hard cock resting flat against her, rubbing back and forth as he spreads her wetness around with him. The head gliding over her clit just the right way as she held him close to her body, kissing down his neck and sucking marks all over his chest.

She was desperate for him and who was he to deprive her, so he rocked into her more, grinding down harder against her body and making her shaking lightly. It felt better, more intimate, more euphoric than any other sex he’s had, just being close to her had him on the edge faster than he expected to get there.

She’s chanting his name then, head tossed back against the pillow as she digs her fingers into his asscheeks, holding him so close to him he can feel her orgasm rush through her. She stills, bucking up into him one last time as he finishes all across her stomach.

His hands are curled around her cheeks then, holding her perfect face in his hands as he hovers over her, using everything in his power to not crush her or the baby. He’s trying so hard to steady his breathing, so is she, they just smile at each other, laughing lightly at how in love they are.

“I love you,” he says on impulse, “you’re so good to me.”

“Look at all the good you’ve given me,” she whispers, “it would be wrong for me not to love you for everything you’ve done for me, whether you were aware of it or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to tell you about my depression while your cum dries between us like glue,” she laughed at how crude it sounded.

He laughs lightly too, rolling off her to see just how much of a mess they made. “Tell me in the shower?”

“Seems appropriate,” she agreed, taking his hand and following him into the bathroom.

He loved the old feel of her bathroom, the green linoleum and floral wallpaper, the pink towels and bright orange shower curtain, it was happy and bright and the perfect place to laugh for half an hour as they washed each other.

She has him pressed against the shower wall then, water trickling over them gently as she stares into his eyes, “I don’t know how to say it without it coming out really scary,” she finally resumes the conversation they were about to have in the bedroom.

“I’ve probably been in the same mental state, I’m not going to judge your method of choice,” he explains it in a way that she’ll know he really, really gets it.

“I had a few suicidal thoughts when my grandma went to chemo before I chose your sample and before I did all the hormones, I was thinking why should I stay and bring another life into my misery when I could just die first and not have to see her go through that anymore,” she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth as she stops, letting him digest all the words.

“Did you try anything?” He’s not sure why he’s asking.

She shakes her head, the best no he’s ever seen in his life. “My grandma noticed on my birthday when I wasn't coming down for breakfast like normal, I was really depressed and so we went out and talked and had lunch together for the first time in forever cause she wasn't feeling sick, I’ll never forget it. It was the best and worst birthday of my life.”

“I’m the worst husband ever,” he says, taking her by surprise, “I don’t even know your birthday.”

It makes her laugh, taking her out of the sadness as she realizes he really doesn’t judge her, he gets it completely. “January 16th, 1986, three minutes after Evan,” she manages to say it with a smile.

“That’s the date Maeve died,” both of them stare at each other in shock, wondering just how many other coincidences they had out there to figure out.

“How many days after did you donate?”

“On the 19th,” he confirmed without taking a breath, “holy shit.”

“We both were suicidal on the same day,” she covers her mouth with a wet slap, laughing at the worst thing she’s ever said, it’s the shock and the emotions of everything catching up to her right then and there.

“Oh my god,” he laughs in response, both of them laughing as they hugged in the corner of her green shower. “we are fucked up.”

“Soulmate things,” she shrugged, holding him even tighter.

He wished she could see his face then, the looking that overcame him as he heard the word soulmates. She just called him her soulmate. He licks his lips, taking it all in and almost hyperventilating, she can feel the way his breathing changes as she looks up with concern.

“What?”

He shakes the thoughts out, swallowing sharply as he makes eye contact with her, “nothing.”

“No, I know that look Spencer, what did your brain say to you this time? I will go in there and kick its ass,” she pokes his forehead then, threatening his anxiety to fuck off.

“I never thought I’d get to hear someone say that to me, it’s stupid,” he felt too vulnerable suddenly, sky and closed off.

“Who hurt you?” She asks in complete curiosity, wanting to know why he can’t imagine someone loving him.

“My parents,” it slips out before he can catch it, “I love my mom. I always have to preface that, she did what she could but it was nowhere near enough. I don’t hold anything against her, I just hate that that’s how it was, that she had bad days at all because they always shine brighter in my memory than the good days.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you,” she worries this time, seeing the hurt on his face and feeling like she fucked up, he can read her micro-expressions easier than anyone else.

“I would have told you soon enough, my dad left because of my mom's illness and he made sure I knew he didn’t want me. I don’t care that he kept up with me on the internet, the fact he didn’t even care to let me know he lived 10 miles from me my whole life makes me feel sick. I was 14 point 6 miles away from Amoreena this whole time and I would give all my fucking organs to go back in time and be with her from day 1, I don’t get how he could just not love me?” The rant comes out of his mouth for the first time ever, the same thoughts that have been there building for 40 years bursting at the seam.

She reaches behind them to turn off the water then, stepping away from him while he cools down a bit, “Yeah, no I get it, I hate him too now. That's so fucked up, honey, I'm so sorry.”

It makes him huff out a laugh, “I’m sorry, you’re not my therapist you don’t have to deal with all that.”

“I’m your wife, I deal with that regardless. In sickness and in health remember?” She reminds him, “depression is just as real of an illness as cancer. I don’t want you to keep these thoughts from me. I want to know about every paper cut, every splinter, every bad thought that crosses that beautiful mind because I love you.”

“As long as you always remember that too,” he makes sure that she knows he feels the same. “Don’t keep anything from me thinking it’ll ruin the happy atmosphere of this kingdom, Amoreena would tell you that a castle is only as strong as its weakest brick. If you crack we all tumble.”

“My foundations are strong, if not Derek’s a renovator right?” She raised her eyebrows, making another joke. They were always going to be okay.

“Speaking of, how are we going to house all 12 of these children you plan on having?”

"We, smartie pants, we are having," she tosses the shower curtain out of the way then, stepping out and wrapping herself in a towel, “I was thinking we add a few more rooms, nanny and pop were always adding on to this place, it would be nice to fix it up a bit.”

“I can see if Derek wants to help, or we can find a contractor?”

“Well, Alli still has another 8 weeks till her baby comes, so you might as well do something with Derek here in that time,” she agrees with a smile, “my nanny left everything to me, so I have a decent amount saved still for whatever you guys think the house can handle, I just want it done safely, and it has to match.”

She was bossy, he loved every second of it. “Yes ma’am,” he smiles as he steps out, drying off beside her.

Y/N couldn’t stop smiling at him as she watched him fluff his curly wet hair in the mirror, “how would you like to go out and get our first kid a big sister present before the graduation?”

“We never had a chance to read on Saturday, would you want to get her a big sister book and read at the tree?” Spencer suggests, making eye contact with her reflection in the mirror, even backwards she’s beautiful.

She nods with a smile, “sounds great, daddy.”

He wraps his arms around her before she can leave the room, kissing her neck and shoulder as she squirms, trying to get away from him but failing on purpose. “Spencer, seriously we have to go.”

“Then don’t call me daddy,” he whispers in her ear, and he can physically feel the way it excites her.

“We will revisit this later,” she says with a stern look as she pulls away finally, dropping the towel on purpose as she walks towards her new closet.

She was going to be the death of him, and hopefully, that wasn’t for a long time. Hopefully, he thought right then and there, that the moment he finally does die, he dies is beside her. Happily in his sleep, as they’re in their 90’s, and in a perfect world she’d slip away with him.

“Can I ask a dumb question?” He rushes the words out, taking her up on that offer of hearing all the bad thoughts.

“Always,” she smiles.

“When we get to heaven, stay with me? Pick me instead of Stephen for the forever part?” He’s not sure why he’s crying, or why he’s thinking about it. But it’s where his mind went and she said she’d always follow.

She tilts her head to the side, dropping her shoulders as she sighs, “we can set Stephen and Maeve up with each other.”

It makes him smile, she always knew what to say. “Who knows, they could be the reason all this happened.”

She nods then, “I like the thought of that, they deserve to be happy together, I’m sure they would like each other.”

He really believed they were soulmates then, that something bigger set up all these dominoes and he was so excited to watch them fall. To see where they landed, the beautiful pattern that they would reveal. The wonderful world he was creating with her was always going to be amazing because something greater than them said so.

—

She looked more beautiful than he’s ever seen her as they rolled up to the school. She was physically glowing, her hair was perfect, her dress laid over her stomach in the right way that he could see proof she was with child, even if she called it leftovers from the last one. It was his favourite part of her, it was where she made the best person they knew.

They walked around to the back gate, hand in hand, smiling wide as they walked into the little classroom. There were balloons and streamers everywhere, they had little cupcakes all set up and all of them were in matching blue caps and gowns.

Amoreena waved at them when she saw them, not allowed to leave her seat from where they were practicing their ceremony. It was unbelievably adorable, Spencer couldn’t help but be that Dad who took a million photos on his cellphone. He was never going to miss another moment.

JJ wrapped her arm around him sneakily, startling him as she hugged him, “hello Spencer Reid, father and husband,” she teased him. “Still weird thinking of you as a dad.”

He wanted to tell her, but she’d know soon anyway once she saw the all about me project, “shit,” Y/N says from behind him as she realizes too. “Tell her.”

“We’re having another one,” Spencer whispers in JJ’s ear before she can even react.

She smacks his side as she pulls back, staring at him with her mouth wide open. The same face Henry made when he saw Y/N for the first time, completely shocked and nervous, “oh my god?”

He nodded, “we’re not telling anyone, I was supposed to find out on her all about me project but she didn’t want me to pass out in front of all the kids.”

It made JJ laugh, shrugging as she agreed with the idea, she pulled away from him and wrapped Y/N up in her arms, hugging her ever so softly. Y/N closed her eyes and pressed their cheeks together as she accepted the thank you, knowing JJ was just happy to see Spencer succeed.

She placed a hand on Y/N’s tummy before pulling away fully, “I always hoped I’d see the day where Spencer made a little genius, I still can’t believe Amoreena is his sometimes, that hasn’t really hit me yet, but this… this is real. I’m so happy for you.”

Y/N cried a little, wiping her eyes as she laughed it off, “okay, sorry this is a big day for me, my first baby is graduating, this baby is trying to grow a heartbeat, it’s all a lot.”

“I get it, believe me,” JJ agreed, placing her hand on Y/N’s lover back and holding her close to her side. Bonding in that moment, making Spencer’s heart swell.

“Where’s the cowboy?” She changed the subject, looking for Will.

“Oh there’s a case in Kentucky, I missed Henry’s graduation, so I’m here for Michaels while he’s on the case, it’s only fair,” she explained with a smile, content with how their life and relationship worked.

“Do you want to sit with us?” Y/N offered, pointing at the folding chairs, taking a seat with JJ in the front, sitting between her and Spencer so she could talk to both of them before the ceremony.

It was lovely having them become friends, his first love and the last one he'd ever have.

They passed out tissues (thank god) before the ceremony, Y/N and Spencer both using at least 5 as they watched Amoreena get her tiny scroll of paper, move the string on her hat to the other side and then wave at them. Spencer took at least 100 photos of her, unable to stop how proud he felt that he made her.

What Amoreena failed to mention was that she was chosen to be the class valedictorian, surprising them with a tiny speech at an even tinier podium. It was so cute, both Spencer and JJ recorded it to remember for later.

“My class chose me to talk to everyone because I’m the oldest, lots of my classmates like to think of me as an older sister,” she smiled right at her parents, hinting at the fact she knew when she thought Spencer didn’t yet.

So he played along, looking surprised at the word choice.

“I’ve had the best two years with all my friends in this classroom, Miss Kennedy was the nicest women they could pick to make sure we learned everything we need to before grade school starts,” her words were definitely chosen by her, possibly reworded by her teacher but definitely from her heart.

“My mom taught me the alphabet, she taught me how to spell and count, she taught me lots of things that miss Kennedy taught in here, at first it was hard being the kid who knew more, but then it was fun getting to help everyone else learn,” she continued with the most enthusiastic voice, going off-script as she thought of more. “My dad, though, he’s taught me how special our family is. How special it is to get to meet new people and learn about the world with them, I’m so glad my parents made me so I could learn with all of you these past 2 years.”

All the parents were crying, she was able to touch the hearts of everyone around her. At the age of 7, she was more well-spoken, more understanding and grateful than any of the adults in that room.

“I’ll see you all on the big kid yard next year!” She cheered, jumping up and down and clapping, all her friends rushed to the stage for a big group hug.

His little girl was so unbelievably loved, the way she deserved.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

[icerosecrystal]

Marijon - My Secret Older Sister

Her name is Marinette Amani Al-Ghul. Marinette is the first grandchild of the demon-head and the daughter of Talia Al-Ghul. She is also the older sister of Damian Al-Ghul by two years. Despite what others may think, both she and her brother came from the same man. Bruce Wayne. Although Damian has no idea who his father is, Marinette has known for eight years. Despite the young age of 12, she was an incredibly smart girl. She also possessed the ability to be happy and feel love. But not in front of anyone but her brother and sometimes her mother. She and her brother had a great relationship. They were always there for each other. Damian was there for Marinette when her grandfather Ra's would sometimes beat her for not doing well on a mission. And he would base it solely on her gender. Marinette was there for Damian the first time Damian had to kill someone. It disgusted him, but he continued doing it for the sake of his title.  

Then the day the League fell came. Slade had attacked when Ra's was showing the whole League to Damian and explaining that it would all one day be his. Marinette was standing behind them next to her mother. Ra's had told her mother to grab both of them and run. Marinette protected her brother throughout it all when suddenly, Marinette got shot in the stomach. She collapsed in pain. She saw her mother running back to them, so Marinette let go of Damian, who was looking at her worriedly, "Damian, my akhi, go run, save yourself. Tell Mother to take you to Father. I'll be fine."

Damian was crying now, "NO, I won't leave you, you have to come with me. Please don't leave me, ukhti."

Marinette smiled sadly. She then hugged Damian and kissed him on the cheek, "I love you. And I promise I will find you one day." She let go of his hand as Talia quickly grabbed his arm and lead him to the docks, glancing at Marinette once in worry.

Marinette was lying still for a little bit before she heard a voice say, "Tom, I found her!" Marinette turned her head to the side and saw her godmother, Sabine Cheng recently Dupain-Cheng, hurrying over to her, with her godfather Tom not too far behind.

When they reached her, they gasped at the wound in her stomach. Tom picked her up and quickly walked to the docks with Sabine following. "Where we going?" Marinette said her voiced slurring, herself only half-conscious due to the blood loss.

Sabine answered, "We're going to Paris. We had a house there just in case we ever had to escape the League."

Marinette nodded in turn before she closed her eyes, letting the exhaustion take over. "Good night," she heard before she was fully asleep.  

Marinette woke up to an unfamiliar scene. She tensed, but when she caught sight of her godparents, she relaxed, "So what's the plan?"

Sabine was the one who answered", Well, you aren't allowed to act like the devil in disguise." Marinette scoffed, but she didn't argue, knowing Sabine was right. She may be sweet with her family, but with strangers and acquaintances, she wasn't the nicest. "Also, you are going to be Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You are the daughter of two bakers, Tom and I, and you are a designer. You will also be clumsy and stutter a lot."

Marinette nodded in understanding, "Okay, but what about Damian?"

Sabine sighed, "You're just going to have to hope that one day you find each other again."

Marinette nodded in understanding. She then went up to her new room, ready to put on a mask for the rest of the world to see.

(Time Skip)

It was now the start of the tenth grade for Marinette. She was now thirteen-years-old, and she was ready to play her part of the clumsy baker's daughter. She took some macaroons for her new classmates and then walked outside. While she waited to cross the street, she caught sight of a man crossing the street. A car was heading right to him. Regardless of who she was pretending to be, she wasn't going to let a man get hurt. She ran and quickly pulled him to the sidewalk, effectively using it as an excuse to trip over her feet. She handed the man a macaroon and then ran to school.

At school, she sat down quietly in her seat. When a dark girl, with brown hair and auburn highlights, picked a fight with a blonde girl. The blonde girl was supposedly bullying Marinette. Marinette and the blonde girl exchanged looks, acknowledging that the girl before them was a load of bull. Marinette then found out that the blonde girl's name was Chloe, and she was a bully, and the other girl was Alya.

Marinette looked around the classroom, analyzing everybody.

She then heard a voice scream, "Kim!"

She looked behind her to see a big, burly blonde kid, look like he wanted to beat up somebody. The teacher then asked him, "Ivan, what is going on?"

The blonde kid replied, "It's Kim! I'm so going to get..."

The teacher then pointed to the door and shouted, "Ivan, go to the principal's office."

Before Ivan could stomp off angrily, Marinette spoke up, quite surprised by the way the teacher was handling things, "With all due respect Miss, you didn't even listen to Ivan's side of the story. It could be Kim that's bullying Ivan, but you're rather playing favoritism."

The teacher sputtered, not knowing how to react, "Who gave you the authority to question my teaching skills?"

Marinette smirked, replying, " Common sense."

Mrs. Bustier walked out of the classroom to calm down, pure fury clear on her face. That day she turned into Zombispect. When she kissed them, they would automatically obey and respect her. That was also the day Lady Spots and Chat Noir resided in Paris.

While Lady Spots was a great superhero, Chat Noir was an incompetent fool. Marinette hated him. He would always flirt with her and never get anything done. And in many cases, if he didn't get what he wanted, he would either threaten to quit or sit out. Marinette never told him, but she honestly thought that she did better in battle when he wasn't around.

In terms of her civilian life, Alya convinced herself that she was Marinette's best friend and that Marinette had a crush on Adrien. In actuality, Marinette's best friend was and is her brother, Damian, and Chloe. While Chloe was spoiled, she was also neglected by her parents, which made her act rather bitchy at times. And she for sure did not have a crush on the spineless Adrien Agreste. No one in the class knew anything about the real her. But her godparents and even Chloe, who knew a bit about her. But, the one person that Marinette wanted to talk to was her precious little brother. She needed to hug him, spoil him, and talk with him about everything. But most of all, she wanted to know that he was still alive and happy somewhere.

Marinette would cry herself to bed every day, hoping that one day she would see him again. Thankfully, Tikki was on her side.

(Time Skip of one year. This is after Volpina, but before Chameleon)

It has been two years since Marinette last saw her brother. Alya was still going strong, coming up with ridiculous plans for her to date Adrien. She was still a "clumsy" baker girl. And while designing was her supposed hobby, after about a month, she really got into it. What pissed Marinette off the most was that she had to wear pink, have her room pink, and wear pigtails. Why? Because it strengthened the fact that she was an innocent, little, naive girl. While it did help people underestimate her, it annoyed the heck out of her. She actually ranted to her godparents one day about how bad her appearance was, "How can one color be so bright?! How could anyone like looking at it?! Why the hell do these pigtails make me look like a short-ass baby?! I look like a fucking moron! Where the hell is Damian when you need him?!" It was about three days later when her question was answered.

Marinette had been walking around town when suddenly someone bumped into Marinette.  Marinette caught herself and caught the person she bumped into. But the words that came out of the person's mouth had her reeling, "Tt, what type of imbecile are you to be bumping into people on the street?" Marinette would know that voice anywhere. And sure enough, when she actually looked at the person that she bumped into, she was staring into the face of her brother. When he realized who she was, he let out a timid, "Marinette," that had Marinette practically sobbing.

When she found that her face was wet, she realized that she was sobbing, but she didn't care. Damian was alive. She strangled him with a hug, cooing softly into his ear once he too started crying. They stayed like that for a while before they released each other. It was then that Marinette saw the boy standing behind Damian.

She blushed when she noticed his features, black hair like her own, the bluest, purest eyes she had ever seen. He was wearing glasses that gave him a nerdy look, but his body begged to differ. He was very tall, probably 5ft 11, and had huge muscles that gave off more of a jock look. He had so many characteristics that Marinette felt insanely attracted. She snapped out of her thoughts and offered the boy a hand, "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, or Marinette Al-Ghul, Damien's older sister by two years."

He gave her a blinding smile that could rival the sun and then kissed her hand, "Jonathan Kent, Jon for short. It's nice to meet the sister of my best friend." The more she studied him, the more she realized that he looked familiar. It was then that she realized he was Superboy, the superhero Alya had been raving about last week.

Marinette blushed at him kissing her hand. She then decided to let her inner devil come out to play. Leaning closer, she whispered, "It's nice to meet you too. I hope that you have been nice to my brother. Because if I found out you haven't, I might get my katana and skin you. I know that you might be invincible, but with the kryptonite, which I do have, you would be weakened within a second. So make your decisions carefully." She then leaned back and watched how his expression changed. His face went from happy, to confused, to shocked, to scared, and the surprisingly, love.

He smirked, "Well, you are better than I expected." He then pulled out a piece of paper and wrote his phone number. "Call me, you're hot and a little devil, I like it." He then winked and gave it to her.

They both heard Damian scream, "KENT! Stay away from my sister before I skin you!"

Marinette giggled and took the piece of paper from him. She then asked, "You look to be about my age. Why are you with Damian?"

Jon replied, "I'm 15-years-old. So one year older than you. (I know that Jon is actually three years younger in Super Sons, but for this to work, Jon is three older, not younger. If you have any problems with that, fight me.) And Damian and I work together a lot. We're considered the Super Sons, so we're best friends."

Marinette nodded in understanding before suggesting that they all go to a coffee shop to talk. Damian and Jon agreed. Damian told Marinette all about their father, their brothers, and sisters, him being Robin. He told her everything. She offered him support and asked questions about their family.

When it was her turn, she explained how Tom and Sabine saved her and how she came to Paris. And how she is pretending to be a clumsy sweet girl who likes pink. (She wasn't totally over the whole pink thing along with the pigtails.)  That coaxed a laugh out of both Damian and Jon. But when she got to the part about Alya, Damian wanted to skin Alya. He was Marinette's best friend, not some dumb harlot. When she explained how she was Lady Spots, and Chat Noir had some major failings as a partner, it took both Jon and Marinette to hold him back. He continued trying to escape while shouting, "LET ME AT HIM, HE DARE FLIRT WITH MY SISTER!!! I'LL SKIN HIS SORRY ASS BEFORE RIPPING HIM INTO SHREDS AND DUMPING HIM IN A RIVER!" He then continued to explain exactly how he would kill Chat Noir. Marinette knew that he was capable of going through with his plan, so she distracted him by asking for his phone number so that they could stay in contact. Damian calmed down enough to give it to her.

When she realized how late it was, she gave a hug and promised to meet up with him for the rest of the week. She also promised that once he left Paris, she would stay in contact. She wasn't going to leave her brother again. She then went up to Jon and kissed his cheek before saying goodbye. She then turned around and went home. If she had stayed a second longer, she would have seen Jon blush and then touch the cheek that she kissed with his fingertips, a goofy smile adorning his lips. Although Damian wanted to keep Jon away from his sister, he supposed Jon was better than the mangy cat or the spineless model.

For the rest of the week, the three met up every day and did different activities. One day they went to the Lourve, another an arcade, the day after that a carnival, and so on. On their last day, they went to the park and then went for Andre's ice cream. When they arrived, Andre greeted Marinette, "Bonjour Marinette! Would you like a sweetheart ice cream."

"Oui Andre. This is my brother Damian, and his friend Jon." She then turned to the boys, "Andre is the sweetheart's ice cream maker. He essentially gives you icecream based on the characteristics of your soul mate. Damian, how about you go first."

Damian stepped in front of the cart, "Ah, Damian, one scoop of violet and honey for her eyes, coconut ash for her hair, and cherry for her mysterious and complicated past. Here you are." (There is actually such a thing as black ice cream. It's made with coconut ash that people sometimes flavor with burnt honey vanilla.)

Damian took the ice cream and looked at it. He then realized that it looked like Raven, his crush. He blushed. "Ah, I see the love fair and true. I suppose you know who is right for you?" Damian nodded and started eating his ice cream, a small smile gracing his lips. He then paid attention to his sister and his best friend. They were now getting their ice cream.

Andre looked at the two and said, "Ah, but here's the truth, the two of you are the right match. You complete each other just like one, so come, let Andre supply you with love." Marinette and Jon were both surprised by the turn of events. But they both just blushed and agreed. Andre then said, "Blueberry for both your eyes, strawberry for her lips, cherry for his secret, and cotton candy for your personalities. Enjoy!"

Jon and Marinette waved goodbye and then ate their ice cream. They were still surprised about the turn of events. Neither knew what to say to the other until picked up some courage and asked, "Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

Marinette was surprised but agreed. They shared a chaste kiss. They then heard Damian gagging in the background. They broke apart, and Jon raised an eyebrow, "You're one to talk. I saw your ice cream. It really represented, mmph." Damian covered Jon's mouth before he could blurt out the name of his sweetheart.

"Kent looks like it's time to go! By the way, if you hurt my sister, I won't hesitate to kill you." He then dragged Jon off, leaving Marinette to chuckle to herself. The next day, she said goodbye to Damian and Jon. She gave them both a quick hug along with an extra kiss for Jon. She was so happy that she had found her brother again.

(Time Skip of three years)

It has been three years since Marinette bumped into Damian and Jon in Paris. The two visited whenever they could, the same with Marinette. But they never told their families. Marinette didn't tell her family because they didn't know she was Ladybug. Damian didn't tell because he wanted his sister to himself. Jon didn't tell because the other two didn't. Jon's and Marinette's relationship was still going strong. They loved each other very much. Jon loved how playful and happy Marinette could be, but she wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone. She was his little devil. Marinette loved Jon because of how pure and sunshiny he was. She loved how he cared for her and was always there for her no matter what. Damian actually started a relationship with Rachel Roth otherwise known as Raven as Andre's ice cream had indicated all those years ago.

During the three years, many things had changed, though. A girl named Lila came and turned everyone against her except Chloe. Marinette pretended that she was sad, but really she was ecstatic that she didn't have to hang out with morons anymore. She found Lila quite pathetic. Lila let others do her dirty work for her. She hid behind lies and morons. Marinette never found her as a threat.

She also defeated Hawkmoth a year ago, but it was because he surrendered. So, she didn't take him to jail, she made him donate thousands of dollars to people who needed therapy from the akumas and do community service. He agreed, so she let him go. She was glad that Gabriel Agreste had learned his lesson.

Yeah, for the most part, everything was going fine, she wasn't stuck with morons, and she had her brother and boyfriend. Until her brother and significant idiot forgot that her bio family didn't know about her.

It was the end of another shitty day for Marinette. She collapsed on her chaise. She looked at the time and realized that it was time for her's and Damian's video calls. She groaned before getting up and getting her phone. She dialed his number before waiting for him to pick up. Once he did, she saw that Jon was with him. They all talked together animatedly. What Damian and Jon forgot to do, was make sure that the Bat-family didn't come back from patrol while they were still on the call. But naturally, the two idiots forgot.

So, two hours later, when the three were still talking, they didn't realize when Jason came into the room. They only did when Jason screamed, "Demon Spawn and Supes Junior are talking to a girl on the phone!" This alerted the rest of the Waynes, so they all ran into Damian's room. When they entered, they were met with quite a sight. A confused Jason was watching a small pixie-like girl screaming at Jon and Damian in what seemed to be Arabic, Urdu, Russian, English, French, Spanish, Romanian, and Greek.

Once she calmed down, although she was still glaring at the two boys, she introduced herself, "Hi, my name is Marinette."

Dick asked her, "What's your last name?"

Marinette replied, "It depends on who your asking. Here in France, I would be Marinette Dupain-Cheng. In the league, I would be Marinette Al-Ghul. But, my real name would most likely be Marinette Wayne."

Jason yelled, "Your married to Demon Spawn!"

Marinette scowled, "No, Tt, are you always this incompetent? I am Damian's older sister by two years. I am also Jon's girlfriend of three years."

Bruce took a deep breath and pinched his nose, "And the reason none of you said anything was because?" He looked directly at Damian when asking the question.

Damian snapped, "I didn't want to share my beloved sister. She is too good for you imbeciles. She is also too good for Kent. But Kent is better than the mangy cat or the ugly model."

Everyone looked at Marinette confused except for Damian and Jon. She quickly shook her head, "Don't ask. If you want to ask me some questions, I'll be there in a minute."

Damian realizing that she was going to use the horse miraculous to transport to Gotham quickly said, "Wait, no, don't!" But she had already ended the call making Damian curse in Arabic.

Seconds later a portal appeared and a girl stepped out. She then spoke, "Kaalki, dismount." A flash appeared around her and they then saw the same girl on the phone now in front of them.

This left Wayne's gaping, while Alfred asked, "Mistress Marinette, would Kaalki I assume, need anything?"

Marinette replied, "Oui, she prefers sugar cubes to recharge. Merci, Alfred."

Then Jon got up and shouted, "My little devil!"

"Sunshine", Marinette exclaimed in joy before kissing him with full force. He kissed her back passionately. She placed her arm on his shoulders while he held her waist and lifted her a little off the ground. After a little bit, there was an awkward cough that reminded them that there were others in the room. They gave each other one more peck, before reluctantly pulling away. Although, Jon's arm was still around her waist. Marinette tried to not focus on the aching in her chest that was telling her to pounce on Jon and smother him in love and kisses while he did the same to her.

Marinette sighed and tried to focus on the situation at hand, "It's nice to meet all of you. My name is Marinette Al-Ghul Wayne, and I am Damian's sister as mentioned."

They all stared at her strangely until Tim asked, "Are you sure you grew up with Damian, or that your mother is Talia Al-Ghul? You seem a lot more different from Demon Spawn."

She smirked at them viciously, "First of all, I am for sure Damian's biological sister. Second of all, I may seem like an angel, but I'm the devil in disguise, hence Jon's nickname for me. Third of all, I'm not as arrogant as Damian because Ra's was always abusing me since I was a girl. So, I am a lot worse than Damian, I just don't show it."

No one knew what to do with this information. Sure Damian already knew about the beatings, but no one else did. They stared at her in worry, but she just waved them off, "Don't worry about me. Ra's is dead, I'm living with my godparents, and I'm happy."

Damian then rose an eyebrow, "What about your moronic classmates?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you. This pathetic girl who threatened to take my friends away, made it so that no one talks to me anymore. So, yay! Oooh, also I should probably explain my life to you?" She then went on to talk about everything, how her life was at the league, what happened when Slade attacked,  her life in Paris and when she became Lady Spots, how she met Damian and Jon, what happened after that.

By the end of her story, everyone looked like they wanted to kill her classmates and Chat Noir. Well, almost everyone. Bruce was on the ground muttering to himself, "Why, why, why? I just wanted one of my kids to not be a superhero. Is that too much to ask for?"

While Bruce had his breakdown, Tim asked her, "Did you defeat Hawkmoth?"

"Yeah, I did. He surrendered, so I let him off with some requirements in place. I actually was thinking of doing something to expose Lila. As much as I hate the morons, their future will be horrible if they keep on listening to that pathetic bitch."

Damian looked at her curiously, "What were you thinking?

"You are going to invite my class to the Wayne Gala. There we are going to introduce the whole family, including me. Damian, you are going to bring Raven. I'll bring Jon obviously. If we disprove that she knows the Waynes, the rest of her lies will come crashing down." Everyone smiled obviously pleased with the idea.

So they spent the next month getting the gala together. They organized a contest that Bustier's class won. During the month, the Waynes got to know Marinette. While Damian did have a problem with sharing her, everyone still go to know her. They were officially scared of her after she won after sparing against everyone and then cussing at Damian in many languages. It made Jon fall more in love with her though.

Another problem was that the Waynes would walk into Jon's and Marinette's make-out sessions all the time. Once, Jon, had Marinette pushed up against a wall and he was kissing her passionately. Marinette had her hands in his hair, one of them playing with the ends of his hair. She had taken off his shirt and was kissing down his neck. Jon had groaned and had stopped her so he could kiss her neck as well making her moan in want. He was whispering about what he wanted to do with her at the same time. Through dazed eyes, Marinette looked up and finally saw her family looking at her, both Damian and Bruce had their jaws clenched. When Jon noticed them, he quickly let go of her. Dick, Jason, and Tim started laughing, cooing, and teasing them, making Marinette hide her head in his chest. This made Damian launch himself at Jon, but before he could, Marinette had already disarmed him. She screamed, "Don't hurt my boyfriend, Damian." He just huffed, but let it go. From then on, they made sure to lock the door.

It was finally the day of the gala. Marinette saw all of her classmates. They mostly looked nice, but Lila was wearing an incredibly revealing dress.

It was then time for the reveal. Bruce went up to the stage and announced, "Good evening, everybody. I am pleased that you could all attend. Today, I would like to introduce all of my children along with their significant other. To start, my oldest son Richard Grayson, also known as Dick Grayson along with his wife Kori Grayson."

(Bruce's suit)

(Dick's Suit)

(Kori's Dress)

"My son Jason Todd."

(Jason's suit)

"My son Tim Drake."

(Tim's suit)

"My son Damian Wayne with his girlfriend Rachel Roth."

(Damien's suit)

(Rachel's dress)

"Finally, my new found daughter, also Damian's biological older sister Marinette Wayne. With her date Jon Kent."

(Marinette's dress) 

(Jon's suit)

When her classmates saw Marinette they started screaming insults. She just raised an eyebrow at them, "Is there a problem?"

Alya yelled, "Yeah there is. You're not a Wayne, you never told me that you were."

Marinette replied, "We were never best friends so I was under no obligation to tell you anything. I am a Wayne. I just lived with my godparents in Paris until my dad found out about me. I am dating my handsome boyfriend, Jonathan Kent. I have given you so much proof. How about you question Lila. She claimed that she was dating Damian. Damian is two years younger than her and he is dating Rachel. She isn't close to the Waynes, I am. So, stop questioning me and question her."

Everyone looked at Lila, but she was incredibly pale. That showed everyone that she was lying. They started yelling at her. Bruce then spoke up, "Security, escort this class out of the gala." As security did so, no one stopped yelling at Lila.

Marinette and Jon then turned to the reporters and Marinette said, "Five questions go."

She pointed to one reporter, "Where do you live?"

"Paris like I mentioned earlier."

She pointed to another, "How old are you?"

"I am 17-years-old, almost 18."

She pointed to a third one, "Were you surprised about being a Wayne?"

"No, I knew that I was a Wayne my whole life. But I was sent to my godparents instead of my dad like Damian. But I still knew." She pointed to her family, "They were surprised about my existence."

She pointed to a fourth reporter, "How do you like being a Wayne?"

"I really enjoy it. They are so nice to me. I really cherish them and we all have a lot of fun together. "

She pointed to a final reporter, "Do you like being Jonathan Kent's girlfriend and how did you meet?"

"We met when I bumped into him and my brother in Paris. We spent the week together. We got this thing called sweethearts ice cream. The ice cream tells you who your soulmate is. The guy who runs it Andre said that we were meant to be together. Jon asked me to be his girlfriend after. We have been a couple for three years. I love Jon a lot. He's really sweet and considerate. I wouldn't trade him for the world." Everyone awed.

Jon then picked her up bridal style, "Now that this is over, we'll be going home to have some fun." He winked at everyone.

Marinette blushed at the implications, "JON!" But, Jon silenced her with a passionate kiss, carrying her off the stage.

As Marinette kissed him back, she felt so happy. She had a loving family and boyfriend. They accepted her and cherished her.

She didn't know that the league was going to be attacked, but it helped her grow as a person and escape abuse. She didn't know that she would get a boyfriend. She didn't know she would ever meet her little brother ever again or meet her family. She didn't know what the future had in store for her. But she did know that she was going to spend it with her boyfriend and her family, and nothing was going to stop her.

(Sorry for the pictures smack in the middle of everything!)

[emy-loves-you]

The Prince, The Knight, and The Assassin Chapter One

The Assignment

Inspired by the amazing @kawaiikat54

Here’s the summary I wrote for AO3 bc I’m very proud of it:

Janus has never had a good life, raised to be a perfect assassin for the Dark Kingdom. Even though he hates his life, he follows all of his orders and does what he can to protect his little family. But what happens when he's given an order he can't follow through?

Patton is the Prince of the Light Kingdom. His family sees him as just a pretty face, a bargaining chip for peace between the two Kingdoms. He's given up everything for his Kingdom, even his chance of being happy with the love of his life by being forced into an arranged marriage with the High Queen of the Dark Kingdom. But what happens when he's kidnapped by someone who's lived through more horrors than Patton could ever imagine?

Roman is the personal knight and lover of Prince Patton. At least, he WAS Patton's lover, until they broke up so Patton could marry the High Queen. He hates having to pretend that he no longer feels anything for the Prince. But what happens when Patton disappears in the middle of the night?

What happens when the stars align just right? When a tortured soul refuses to kill? When family and duty are abandoned over love? When pain and anger override all thought? When three men, destined to be apart, fall in love?

Masterlist | Chapter Two

Warnings: Child assassins, child abandonment, I’m pretty sure this counts as child slavery, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, these characters will suffer

Two steps to the left.

Clash!

Feign a jab. Step to the right.

Clang!

Opponent is leaning heavily on his right foot. Most likely hurt his left. Jab near his right, make him lean back on his left. Swipe your leg out from under him-

“Oof!” The small figure fell to the floor, going to roll out of the way only to be stopped by the tip of a sword against his neck.

Janus glanced out of the corner of his eye to see the instructors leaving and relaxed minutely, stepping back. Evaluation over. Must have passed if we're not punished already. He put his sword away and held out his hand for his smaller opponent to grab. "Acknowledging your weaknesses will get you killed. Even if your foot has been crushed to a pulp, you need to put just as much weight on it as you would your right. Ignoring your pain, if only for the few moments of your fight, could be the difference between killing and dying."

His pupil nodded, grabbing the offered hand and pulling himself up. He dusted the dirt off his clothes and followed Janus back to their room, doing much better to hide his injured foot than when they were sparring. The room was small, more comparable to a closet than a bedroom in terms of size. But because of Janus' status, the room only houses three instead of the standard seven, so they wouldn't complain.

His pupil, Virgil, stepped into the room and immediately sat down on his cot, cradling his injured foot. Janus sighed and pried open the moldy floorboards, grabbing the small medkit hidden he’d stolen months ago. Virgil saw the medkit and shook his head "m fine."

Janus frowned, kneeling in front of him. "You obviously aren't, now let me take a look at it." He lightly grabbed Virgil by the calf and carefully removed his sock and shoe. He took note of Virgil's wince as he examined his limb. His foot appeared to be in perfect health, but his ankle was swollen slightly.

Virgil huffed softly, turning away. "See? I'm fine. No use in wasting supplies." He yelped when Janus poked his ankle, trying to jerk back but his leg stuck in Janus' firm grip.

Janus rolled his eyes. "Just let me wrap you up and give you a painkiller, Vee." He grabbed the roll of bandages, not waiting for Virgil’s response as he wrapped his ankle. Virgil huffed and grumbled under his breath.

Knock knock-knock knock

Janus tensed up before he recognized the knock pattern, relaxing. “Come in.” He didn’t bother turning back to look as he meticulously wrapped Virgil’s ankle. He heard the door open and closed followed by a sigh.

“I knew you twisted your ankle yesterday.” The person behind him drawled. “If you had let me tend to it yesterday-”

“Yeah, I know.” Virgil flushed and looked away. “But it felt fine yesterday, and if the supervisors had seen the bandages-”

“It would’ve been a risk we were willing to take.” He finished wrapping his foot and sat up, making deliberate eye contact with Virgil as he spoke. “We would’ve hidden them under your clothes, and if they still somehow saw it I would’ve taken the blame, not you. I’m the only one here with potential access to medical supplies.” Janus was the only one who went on unsupervised missions, the others too young so they were heavily supervised.

Virgil frowned, his gaze flickering to the left half Janus’ face as he remained silent. Janus ignored it, used to people staring at the scar. It started at the inner corner of his eye and trailed just under his cheekbone, ending at his jaw just under his ear. He’d gotten it when he was 8, a warning for hesitating in the middle of a mission. The only reason he wasn’t killed on the spot was that he was a prodigy at what he did.

Janus put the bandages away and searched for some pain medication. “Did your evaluation go well, Lo?”

Logan, or ‘Lo’ as Janus had so eloquently put it, sighed. “They changed the assignment as soon as I arrived in an attempt to throw me off guard. I still managed to pass, if barely.” He knelt down next to Janus, and Janus resisted the urge to frown. They’re being a lot more strict on evaluations now. Have they forgotten that they’re doing this to children? Or maybe they want them to fail so they can be broken down more. Janus mentally shook away the thought as he handed Virgil a pill, trying not to seem too obvious.

Virgil noticed though. He always noticed the little things. “That’s the last pill. We should save it for when we need it.”

Janus shook his head. “I’ll go smuggle some more on my next mission.”

Virgil scooted back, looking away. “I told you I’m fine-”

Logan crawled over to Virgil’s side, grabbing his hand and squeezing. “Just please take the pill, Virgil.” Janus watched as Logan and Virgil stared at each other, their mini battle-of-wills adorable to watch when you ignored the context. Virgil eventually sighed, taking the pill and swallowing without water as Logan rubbed his hand soothingly. Janus watched out of the corner of his eye as he put the medical supplies away, smiling softly at their interaction. It was moments like these that reminded Janus why he kept himself alive, why he kept listening to the High Queen’s demands.

No one in the Dark Kingdom could remember a time before the High Queen’s rule. She ruled the land with an iron fist, though most of the citizens were left unaware of the true horrors that lied behind the castle walls.

Janus was one of those horrors. Raised by birth to do the one thing that he was good at anymore: killing. Janus was an assassin for the High Queen.

“Jan?” Janus looked down at Virgil, snapping himself out of thought. “Are we busy today?”

Janus sighed. “I have to go receive my new mission from her highness at sunset, but you have nothing to do until training tomorrow.”

Virgil nodded and snuggled into Logan’s side, making grabby hands towards Janus. Janus smiled, rolling his eyes fondly as he crawled onto the tiny cot. His two pupils adjusted themselves accordingly, one on each side as they used his shoulders as pillows, their hands linked together over his chest. Janus watched over them as their breathing slowed, their grips on each other and Janus refusing to go slack as they drifted into slumber.

Janus frowned, starting up at the ceiling above him. They didn’t deserve to suffer through this type of life. Hell, if it wasn’t for the High Queen’s order for the older assassins to train the younger ones as mentors, Janus was sure that they wouldn’t have lasted. They were good at what they did, but not good enough for her majesty.

Virgil whimpered softly and Janus was quick to shush him, petting his hair and wiping away his fresh tears. The kid had nightmares almost every night, and Janus learned that it was best for him to just sleep through them. If he woke up there was a chance he would still remember what he dreamed about in the morning, and Janus refused to put him through that.

Janus sighed, his mind going back to the documents he had found and read years ago. It had included information on all of the children operatives in this program. Janus had only read the information on himself and his two pupils, not having much time and deeming the rest irrelevant. Before then, they didn’t even have their real names to go by, just the codenames that the higher-ups gave them.

Virgil, codenamed Widow. Ten years old, will turn eleven near the winter solstice. Was neglected in an orphanage and later ‘donated’ to the Kingdom’s cause at almost four years old. An odd case, especially since operatives were usually initiated at 1-2 years old. Specializes in stealth and poisoning, and can blend in with almost any crowd. Can climb and run quickly, but quite weak in terms of hand-to-hand combat.

Logan, codenamed Sparrow. Turned nine near the spring equinox. Was sold to the castle at 14 months old. A natural prodigy, second only to Deceit, but tends to lose any form of stealth without Widow or Deceit by his side. Prefers to use a throwing knife and call it a day over making it look like a natural death. Is usually partnered with Widow to keep him in check.

Janus, codenamed Deceit. Turned nineteen near the summer solstice. Son of a noble who ‘donated’ him to the cause the moment he was born. First child to be entered into the program, and the oldest one in it. Raised to be the perfect killer. Completes every mission perfectly, other than the instance where he got his scar. The High Queen’s ‘favorite.’ Assigned as Logan’s mentor when he was 11, and Virgil’s a little over a year later. Can kill someone with almost anything, but specializes in swords.

Janus sighed, carding his hands through his pupils’ hair. He saw them as something akin to younger brothers, someone that he needed to watch over and take care of. But that was quickly changing. They were already so big, and Janus was dreading the day that the higher-ups would notice and kill the youthful light in their eyes. They still laughed and smiled, even if it was just in the comfort of their little room. They still cared about eachother and trusted the other to catch them when they fell. They didn’t have the same cynical view on the world that Janus did.

But that wouldn’t last forever. Janus knew they could take care of themselves now, but Janus still dreaded the day they would be forced to do so. The day that Janus was given too big of a task and didn’t come home. The inevitable day that the higher-ups noticed how close they were and started using them against each other.

Janus shook his head. It wouldn’t do good to dwell on such thoughts. He needed to live in the moment while he still had a happy moment to live in.

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When the sun just started to set along the horizon, Janus carefully pulled himself out from under his pseudo-brothers. They immediately latched onto each other, and Janus smiled softly before schooling his features. He quickly stepped out of the room, ignoring the chilly hallway as he walked through the castle, past the dozens of rooms filled to the brim with child soldiers.

He reached the throne room just as the sun disappeared below the horizon, not bothering to glance around the room as he walked down the familiar path towards the High Queen’s throne. He knelt down at the base of the throne, his gaze down towards the expensive silver-lined shoes in front of him. “Your majesty.”

A hand carded through his hair and he stopped himself from flinching or tensing up, already expecting it to happen. “Deccceit… my preccciousss sssnake…” The hand tugged, not quite harsh but definitely not gentle, and Janus looked up at the High Queen. She reminded Janus of a dragon, her old, wrinkly skin reminding him of dragon scales. She tended to speak softly in low hisses, but Janus was used to straining to hear what she said. “I have a tassssk for you.”

He kept his expression neutral, not showing any emotion as he droned out his response. “Anything for you, my Queen.” He bit back a shudder as she kept carding her fingers through his hair. She had once claimed to see Janus as a son to her, but Janus would never see her as a mother. She was cruel and manipulative, and only saw people as pieces to her own master plan.

“The Light Kingdom hasss deccccided to negotiate peacccce with ussss.” Janus inwardly relaxed, already knowing what she would say. This wasn’t the first time they had tried to negotiate peace, and this wasn’t the first time she had sent Janus out to deal with it. The High Queen didn’t wish for peace, or even to win her battle against the Light Kingdom. No, she craved the violence and war between the two kingdoms, the constant pain and suffering that everyone around her was forced to endure at her expense. So, she would order him to kill the light side’s politicians before they reached the meeting point, make it look like they all disappeared out of thin air-

“They offered the Princccce’sssss hand in exchange for peacccccce.” Janus barely held back his shock. Prince Patton was eighteen, and the only heir to the throne. Either the King and Queen wanted to fully merge the kingdoms (which was highly unlikely) or they weren’t wanting the Prince to rule. But that also left a much more concerning matter at hand. The Queen didn’t want to establish peace, which meant Janus’ task-

“Your tassssk isss to kill the Princcccce.” The hand kept carding through his hair, her voice calm and light, as if she was discussing the weather and not murder. “You’ll leave tonight. I’ll have sssssomeone bring you to the border. The wedding isssss ssssscheduled to occur in two and a half weekssss. I expect to hear about hissssss death long before then.”

He nodded, ice flooding his veins. He had only killed corrupt politicians and men with no morals. He’d never killed someone so young, and the thought made his stomach churn. But he had no choice. “It will be done, my Queen.”

She laughed a cruel wicked laugh and dismissed him to grab his weapons. He left, feeling numb as he traveled through the halls, the task finally sinking in. He had to infiltrate the Light Kingdom’s castle and assassinate the crown prince. An impossible task for most, and highly improbable for Janus. If he was caught or failed his task, he would be killed or worse. And he would never see Logan or Virgil again.

Janus swept into the room, knowing that he didn’t have much time before he had to leave. He packed his weapons and gently shook his charges awake, his dread momentarily paused by their sleepy expressions. “I’m assigned to leave tonight. If everything goes according to plan I’ll be back in less than three weeks.”

The children said nothing as they wrapped themselves around Janus, holding him tight. The fact that he said ‘if everything goes according to plan’ meant that he wasn’t confident about this mission, and they immediately held on for dear life.

He smiled sadly, rubbing their backs soothingly. “I need to leave now. Go back to sleep, you have training in the morning.” He didn’t promise to come back. These were the only two people that Janus swore never to lie to, and he wasn’t going to do it now just to give them a moment of false hope. They soon fell back asleep on the cot, holding each other tighter than before, and Janus slipped out the door and into the night.

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst @kawaiikat54 @artsy-enby09 @irritating-lady-knight @girl-who-reads @larrymalecsolangelo

[a-life-lesson-in-submission]

Inside a Submissives Soul

Dear Diary -

My head has been abit of a shed the past week. I am clouded by emotions at play, mainly in my personal life but it seems to impact everything in my life as a result. Saying that, my mood lifted greatly knowing I was getting to see Sir, straight away everything else didn't matter anymore.

A couple of hours is always better than nothing, I'm always grateful for any time we get together. Seeing him pull up I can't help but smile, I feel such joy and peace around him. There isn't a thing I would want to change about him, everything he is, is all I want and need.

We get to our spot, it doesn't take long for him to pull me in close to him to say hello. He is very approving, always making me feel incredibly welcome in his presence. Sir gave me a choice of what we could do; rope play or relax with one another, to which I responded that the whole point in this is for me to give all control over to him, whatever he presents to me, I am more than happy with. Although the rope play got my attention making me grin but all in good time I'm sure.

He proceeded to caress my body through my clothing, at first I was sat cradled on his lap before standing me up and turning me to face away from him, dropped my bottoms, lifted my top over my head... (he even takes the time to fold my clothing, I find this so sweet), turned me back to face him reaching around to unhook my bra. Made eachother chuckle as I was impressed he did it so smoothly. He left my thong on, turning me side on to him. Planting kisses on my body, occasionally I would lean to meet his face so we could share a small kiss. Between his gropes I would receive a spanking, the sound of his hand meeting my cheeks, smiling at every one landing against me.

His fingers soon went to work, I could feel the throbbing ache from the inside out, he is incredibly good with his fingers, I can't help but turn to mush. I could feel my wetness becoming more and more noticeable. I have a real thing for hands in my panties, an absolute sucker for such pleasures. My hands often wander, sometimes I just don't know where to put them, he took my right hand placing it on a nearby handle, my left was over his shoulder down his back, my nails would trace him through his shirt.

His right hand around the back of me, between my legs, he teased until he pushed his fingers into me, his left around the front of me circling my sensitives. My breathing became heavy, I could feel myself building the more he continued to probe and feel around. My body tensing and relaxing, raising myself onto my tiptoes and back down, pressing myself onto him as he kissed at my body. He must have spent the best part of an hour using his fingers, often feeling I was ready to release myself.

Our positions changed a couple of times to save us from becoming too uncomfortable. I was lost in my lust for him, I craved him massively, I felt I was on the edge of my release the entire time but she is remaining stubborn. It still feels incredible, I can't complain, he is magical with his hands, I just want more and more of him all the time. Everytime he really slowed down, I thought that was it, he reached the bite, the smallest of touches and strokes to send me over the edge. He saw my frustration, he knows it is bothering me, giving me comfort in his words to enjoy the experience and not to worry about it. I need to learn to let myself relax, I felt I was better this time than last so we are getting there.

I came so close so many times, there was a couple of occasions his speed and pressure increased to the point I nearly squirted, I could feel it warming and the sensation tells me it's there. One of my hand joined his, mine rubbing my sensitives, his fingers kneading away at my insides, telling me how many fingers were in me. My word, it was so damn close. So many times I would tremble, it was right there.

The pace slowed to a stop, he leaned over me smiling, pressing his lips against mine, telling me the things he likes in the way my body responds to him. I've never known my body respond to anyone the way it does him so why the hell am I not releasing?! It baffles me, he's doing everything perfectly. I really need to focus on the experience, not the destination, let it build and take my time without adding pressure to myself.

We need a quick refreshment. I am sat, he came to stand infront of me, comes down to my level, one hand taking hold of my hair, the other around my neck, his lips so close to mine but not close enough to steal a kiss, I felt myself moisten immediately, I receive a kiss filled with passion. He then steps away, standing infront of me and places my hand on his him through his jeans, I firmly grope at him, he starts unbuckling, his member ready to greet me. His shirt comes off, in my head I'm saying 'phwoar' whilst 'grrr'ing'. Sir tells me I may, I take a moment to feel him before my mouth quickly drops in to take him, to taste him, damn he tastes good. Tickling my tongue around him, sealing my lips around him, I take him deep into my throat, then back out to tease his tip. Every so often he's hands would run through my hair before he would hold me and create a rhythm, I can't help but grin with a mouth full. I was ready to receive a load if he needed to unleash himself.

He pulls away telling me to stand, he reaches for my very wet panties and lowers them, they're off within seconds. I feel his member between my legs, the heat from him meeting my heat, I placed a leg on the seat to higher myself for him to enter, to save hassle, he turns me around and bends me over. He takes a moment, I feel coolness and twitch in response, I twitch an awful lot and he seems to be very amused by this, 'it never gets old', he says.

Easing his him into my her, he feels amazing, pushing deeper, filling me to the brim, total bliss. Sliding in and out, my body shaking, he feels, he fits, I just want to explode over him.

I push back against him, forcing him to plunge into me as deep as possible, our pace quickens, his grip on my hips, my hair or my shoulders would tighten and firm up as he pounded himself into me. Several times he says to slow down as I push back in return, taking his force. I rub at myself whilst his member slides in and out of me, I want him harder, faster, deeper. Sir is quite well spoken, or at least I think so, to hear him using such profanities in how pleasurable it is to him just spurs me on. He is ready to unload, within moments I feel his warmth cover my insides, I am more than satisfied to hear him release, I am content knowing I have a part of him within me.

Slowly standing up, my back pressed against him. His head over my shoulder next to mine, it is apparent our workout has us skin soaked again. Barely moving, both just breathing, his member falls away from me gradually, I twitch, it is such a nice feeling. I turn to face him, embrace him, skin to skin. The alarm begins sound, our time is up for today.

He suggests a rinse in the shower, I do so, he assists with the quick wash down then hands me a towel when I am done and we switch places. I can feel his man juice oozing around. Again I stand watching him as we talk. These moments we share I never want them to end, the impact it makes on our connection is something unique. He switches the off the shower, I begin patting over his chest with the towel, this is alien to him, he feels it should be the other way round. I tell him he is important too, I can be just as attentive, I want to be here for him the same way he is me. Although it may seem odd to him receiving this, he didn't object and allowed me to continue until he was to move out of the shower.

Time to get dressed. We talk, we laugh, we share small moments of affection. Back to reality we go, this is the worst part of it all but I am holding onto everything else to keep the positivity of our meet close to me.

Ever the gentleman, offers me something to eat but I am ok. Dropping me off before heading away to commitments, we joke around alittle, I am pretty cheeky, he nips my peach, right on the mark from spanking, bringing another grin over my face, I reach back for a kiss. He is amused by me having to essentially jump out because I am petite and the vehicle is tall, I give him the middle finger, I suspect I will pay for that later. We continue to joke alittle, he is waiting for me to cross the road, will I trip and fall, will I cross safely... I get to the other side, he then claps his hands to say 'well done', all I can do is think 'cheeky sod'... says me! Wave goodbye until our next encounter. I have the biggest smile on my face as I approach home.

My feelings for Sir, I know are unbelievably strong. So much of him I want, need, desire. Don't know if it's love but it does make feel a little less sad. I genuinely feel so happy with him around, he brings such harmony to my melody and madness. He tames my inner demons, calming my chaos, he reaches so far into my soul. If he wished to keep me, I know right now for certain that wish would be granted without a doubt. I really feel like I am his and his alone. I matter to someone, not just anyone.

11 years of here and there contact to having finally met him, helping me find my way in having this fantasy I have yearned for so long to become reality. This foundation alone is what makes this beautiful.

I am not only the luckiest submissive, I am the luckiest woman too.

[samwrights]

I’m sorry but ukai with a breeding kink😳yes PLEASE

I swear I saw another ask that asked for Ukai with an impreg kink

*ahem* anyways—WOW this one was a doozy but holy shit did I have fun writing it. 11k words you guys. 11. K. It is a lot so grab some cocoa or coffee and a blanket because this is a read. It even has to be split into two parts because I hit the fucking text limit, BUT this also means there is no actual smut in this portion. You can find that here.

If you guys need some ear candy, I recommend the following:

Day N Nite (Crooker’s Remix) by Kid Cudi

Pursuit of Happiness (Extended version with Steve Aoki) by Kid Cudi

Breaking Me by Topic

C’Mon by Ke$ha

Flannel by The Cardboard Swords (it has to be sad somewhere)

Magic in the Hamptons by Social House

Fun fact: Ke$ha was actually the primary inspiration for this fic and for DJ!Ukai. God bless her.

Warnings: language, nicotine and alcohol consumption, implied drug use, implied emotionally abusive relationship, breeding/impreg kink, dirty talk, rough sex, risky sex, road head, slight dub-con, praise, multiple smut scenes, 3rd person POV reader-insert—because the word ‘you’ just didn’t seem to fit.

Without further ado, please enjoy the filthy depths of my brain followed by a relatively happy ending that I’ve titled, “Between the Lines’” :-)

“You’ve been more tired lately, and you’re showing up right when practice starts. Is everything okay?” Was the question that Takeda had asked Ukai Keishin that haunted him for years to come. Sure, he had wanted to gain more independence from his parents, wanted to start being more adult-like and take over the mortgage and the bills so his parents could finally rest. At the age of twenty-six, it seemed like a good idea at the time. With four years passing, however, Keishin was so damn tired, but it wasn’t like he could just stop working.

He was still tending to crops every morning, tending to the shop, coaching for Karasuno, but in the four years time, he had adopted one more job on the weekends—Ukai Keishin was a local nightclub DJ. He’d discovered the job opportunity one fateful night that he was out with his friends from the neighborhood association. To this day, he was still unsure of why he was approached with the job, especially considering he didn’t know the first thing about being a DJ, but the woman who had offered him the position had taught him everything he needed to know.

It turned out that he had a natural affinity for the position, seeing as he was still at it years later under the alias Spira. Ukai kept telling himself that he would quit the gig eventually because there was no way he could continue working four jobs—it was inhuman and the money didn’t even really matter to him. Okay, that last one is a lie; his DJ gig has been a substantial contributor to his savings funds to the point where he was even able to afford a newer, larger, (and slightly) used SUV in full compared to his tiny, old yellow beater. Even his mortgage bills were starting to look less daunting with the current cash flow.

Who needs sleep anyway? Ukai survived and thrived off of nicotine and caffeine anyway. Besides, sleep was the last thing on his mind whenever he set foot into the club. It was impossible to think of anything other than the writhing bodies of sweaty, young adults that were already drunk or high or were practically fucking each other with their clothes on. Perhaps that was part of the reason Keishin felt the need to quit this job—he was envious. Envious of the fact that he never got to indulge in his youth like these kids did; he started working and helping his family out right away after college. Sure, he went out here and there, but these twenty-something-year-olds were living their best life, while he was thirty and catering to their whims.

To say he was a bit bitter would be an understatement.

Bitterness aside, however, it did him good to see the youth enjoying exactly that—their youth. They got to do as they pleased between exams and becoming functioning members of society and, while he was jealous, Ukai was proud to be able to contribute to their pleasure.

He’d arrived to the club early, as he often did, to try to grab a drink before he was due for stage time. Ukai was thankful the bartenders knew him enough that he didn’t have to verbally order considering the music was too loud to hear him in the first place. A rum and coke manifests itself in a small, plastic cup that the blonde raises in thanks before weaving and bobbing around the various partygoers. For the most part, he’s successful in dodging the flailing bodies as he mutely notes the very upbeat remix of some female pop artist playing.

But only remotely successful as Keishin attempts to salvage his drink from spilling as he raises it over his head as one of the partygoers is pushed into him. “Hey, careful!” He snaps toward the younger, [hair color]ed woman. She only looks half-offended by the scolding, but otherwise unperturbed. If anything, the dominating expression on her face was confusion.

“Coach Ukai?” He’s surprised to hear both his given name and his title, let alone coming from a club patron, as they all knew him as Spira. Recognition slips his mind entirely—he’s never met this girl in any way that he can remember. Certainly, he would never forget crossing paths with this beauty, even if she was dressed in a similarly juvenile fashion to the other ravers. Tight crop top tee cinched together by a knot at the midriff, with army green high-waisted shorts attempting to cover the bare skin, face painted with makeup, glitter, and sweat; even underneath the garb, she brought forth no recollection. “Uh, d-do you remember me?” It’s a challenge to hear over the music, but she presses forward close enough that her lips are right in Keishin’s ear.

“Can’t say that I do,” he yells right back into hers.

“Karasuno class of twenty-twelve, I was Sugawara’s girlfriend.” Oh.

Oh.

Now he remembered, vaguely, but he doesn’t ever remember her looking like this. The last four years had been incredibly kind to her, in more ways than one. Back in her Karasuno days, [name] had always looked pleasant, for lack of better term. But there was always a lifeless, matted, dull glaze to her eyes that screamed she was searching for something more. While it was still somewhat present, there was a substantial joyous air around her. It looked good on her. However, as much as Ukai wanted to stay and admire, he had to go get set up for the evening. Or rather, that was the excuse he used when he said he would catch her after the show. “[name], did you know who that was?” The woman in question gives a nod, confused at the sudden star struck gawks that her friends held.

“Uh, yeah? My ex-boyfriend’s volleyball coach?”

“No dude, that was the DJ, Spira.”

“What?”

Being the closing act meant a lot of different things to Ukai Keishin. On the negative spectrum, it meant he was going to have to tend to crops as soon as he finished cleaning up his set. That also meant he wasn’t going to get to go to bed until nearly eight in the morning after his shift at the farm. Yet, for him, the positives greatly outweighed the negatives. For Keishin, watching the audience lose themselves in euphoria, albeit probably a drug-induced one, just hit different for him. It was a sense of satisfaction that only came from a select few activities, with coaching volleyball being the other major contributor. There was just something about the way the crowd was overwhelmed and screaming the second underground remixes of old Kid Cudi tracks with his own twists overtook the speakers that granted Keishin a sense of enlightenment.

For him, being a DJ allowed an audience to flow and vibe with the journey of his life and all its constant up and down motions while under the guise of anonymity. As Spira, Ukai opened up the complexity and conflicting feelings of his inner mind and brought it to fruition through his mixes. He felt that in his soul, he’d done his art of storytelling justice. The audience felt it. Hell, his mom at home probably felt it. Perhaps it was one of the main reasons this dingy, hole-in-the-wall club kept asking him to come back every weekend.

His mind wanders further as he clutches an electronic cigarette in his hand, mixing beats on the turntable while taking hits of nicotine in between. He wonders if the girl he had ran into just a few minutes prior had been frequenting here as often as he had. Then, thinking back to what little information she supplied earlier, Ukai’s mind drifts off to the former third-year setter from when he first started coaching. Sugawara was a nice boy with a firm, almost parental, hand that walked dangerously along the lines of being a partner and being a control freak. When it came to his relationship, things had to go his way. And while his girlfriend that came to every tournament was much more outspoken yet easy going, she was opinionated and didn’t shy from confrontation.

Now that the coach had given it more thought, it was a wonder that one tolerated the other at any point in time. If anything, Ukai imagines the two of them would typically be at each other’s throats. From the few times he had interacted with her, she was always more free spirited and couldn’t be weighed down by any one else’s opinion, but seeing her now was different—she was in her element in the dingy, dark club with the glitter on her cheekbones refracting light off of her face. There was laughter and true, unabashed joy on her face. She had a light of her own—like she was ray of sunshine in the center of a storm.

Three hours past midnight when the club closed was always Keishin’s sign to leave, regardless of the countless attempts to attend the after party he’d been invited to. He had to go to work, after all. Sure, a part of him had always been a little green with envy at all the DJs that got to hook up with club patrons after, but after being at this gig for a few years, he figured that the right girl for him would eventually come to him if he continued working on himself. After all, he didn’t want to just have a string of one night stands with a bunch of fresh adults that could barely function after the small drop of Malibu rum—he was too old for that.

“Uh, coach?” [name] felt strange calling him that, but she didn’t feel familiar enough with him to address him otherwise. He was halfway in his car, the blonde ready to leave for the weekend to go back to his regular day-to-day work. “You coming to the after party?” [name] asks when Keishin only looks at her in question, cigarette hanging betwixt his dry lips.

“No, I actually have to go to work right now.”

“Oh,” she doesn’t mean to express her disappointment, but it slips anyway, “guess I’ll catch you later then?”

“Uh, yeah.” A tight lipped hybrid of a pained grin and grimace crosses her wet, gloss covered lips. Without another word, Ukai closes his car door, a little more brusquely than he intended to, before backing out and leaving the young woman to her own devices. His mind wanders once again with him humming absentmindedly to the soft acoustic punk playing over the car radio. His eyes are focused on the passing greenery, the cars that are weaving and bobbing off the freeway—hell he even noticed the way the tendrils of the sun are just barely starting to peak over the horizon because it reminded him of her. A thought he banishes immediately because he feels creepy for even thinking that.

Yet no matter how much scenery flitted through his honey eyes, his mind keeps traveling back to one thing, or rather one person, only.

Goddammit.

On Monday’s practice, Ukai Keishin’s mind is flooding and drowning in memories of his first year as the volleyball club’s coach. It was as if his mind was coercing him to attempt to reach out to the girl that plagued his mind for the last forty-eight hours or so. Though, he had no way of contacting her. Instead, with every step along the wooden floors, he can remember the way she would walk Suga to practice, almost physically seeing her standing in the doorway to kiss the third-year setter goodbye. As if he could see her sitting underneath the third window from the left, quietly doing homework and exchanging small talk and airy laughter with Kiyoko and Daichi. As if he could see the same sunny smile she gave in the audience from Saturday night at the club between the lines of the woodwork in the floorboards.

It was a repeating pattern day in and day out that was beginning to make Ukai question his sanity.

“Hey, man,” his assistant coach and fellow Karasuno alumni, Tsukishima Akiteru, places a hand on his shoulder and looks at him in worry. “Are you okay? You’ve been out of it all week.” In what world did a week translate into three days, the older blonde coach didn’t know.

“I’m fine, just tired,” Keishin all but bites back. He didn’t want to admit his conscious had been running rampant with thoughts of a girl he’d briefly met at a club. It felt almost as disturbing and perverted as it sounded in his mind.

“The team’s worried about you. Why don’t you take an early weekend and get some rest? We’ll see you back on Monday, yeah?” Normally, Ukai would have vehemently refused. However, his circumstances were far from normal and he was gracious for an assistant coach he trusted wholeheartedly to do the work that needed to be done. And so, Ukai heeded Akiteru’s advice and went home before practice even began on Thursday afternoon.

It was slightly disorienting for him to go home and nap, but he was incredibly thankful for the gift. Waking up just before he was technically supposed to start his shift at the shop, Keishin jumps into a cold shower to bring him to life before heading downstairs. A bellowing yawn passes his lips through his teeth as he starts his evening. Maybe his team was right—he really did need a break. Thankfully, he knew that the second the doors to the Sakanoshita were locked, he was done for the evening and wouldn’t need to reawaken until three the following morning. Just a few more hours until then, he thought.

With it being a slower evening as well, Ukai was able to kick his feet up on the counter as he always did, pull open the newspaper from earlier in the morning and casually flip through. Briefly, he considers giving up one of his four jobs because this was something he missed doing. But consideration aside, he was far too in love with the cash flow and the thought of paying off his mortgage to entertain the thought for long. Maybe one day, he would finally sell the Sakanoshita store or quit helping on the farm—

“You still work here?” Huh. Her voice sounds different when it isn’t drowning under the speakers of a nightclub.

“I do own this place, you know.” Ukai snarks at the woman who’d been consuming his brain for the last week. She looks different without glitter reflecting off of her unreal cheekbones or the heavy layers of foundation and eyeshadow. Even more than before, Keishin definitely recognized [name] now. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Shopping,” she snorts as if it were the most obvious thing, “why else would I be at a store?”

“Dunno, maybe you’re just here to see me.” Ukai responds without skipping a beat, turning the page of the paper to play into his guise that he wasn’t the slightest bit surprised at [name]’s presence.

“Uh...actually...” her voice is quiet, prompting the coach to quirk a brow and fold up the paper he was now pretending to read. It wasn’t like he could focus on anything right now outside of the woman standing before him, spearated only by a thin counter. Without talking again, his brown eyes lock with hers, silently goading for her to continue speaking. “I-I just...I don’t know. It was just really weird to see you at the club and then to find out that you’re Spira on top of that. I haven’t seen anyone from Karasuno since I graduated and—“

“Woah, kid, breathe.” Ukai interrupts her before she can continue spewing word vomit at a hundred miles an hour. “So what if I’m Spira? Though, you better not tell anyone that. My stage name is a secret between us, alright?” For a moment she’s quiet, gears turning in her head. The secrecy didn’t make sense to her because, if anything, he should be proud of the fact that he’s rather well known in the underground electronica scene. Or at least, she was in his stead, because [name] would have been proud of Ukai regardless of whatever occupation he held.

She supposed it came with the territory of having an unrequited crush on the coach years ago, that continued well beyond high school and even university, back when she was still dating Sugawara Koushi. It was the reason she had even bothered to come sit in on his practices and partially the reason she would come to his tournaments and matches. Not that she didn’t want to be supportive of her then-boyfriend—it would have been a fight had she not—but seeing the hot older coach was definitely a bonus in her book. “But why?” She offers, not wanting conversation to end despite her not having actually bought anything.

“If the school ever caught wind of me doing that, I could lose my position as the coach. Some shit about Karasuno’s image or whatever.” [name] gives a small nod, fidgeting subconsciously, as an attempt to shake her nerves and anxiety, by sifting through various candy bars that were in front of her before grabbing her favorite. Without a second thought, she peels the wrapper before placing the candy between her lips, the puffy pink skin greatly contrasting the chocolate coating. “Ya gonna pay for that, kid?” Ukai irks, his honey brown eyes steeling over in irritation. The nickname she’s given hits the final nail on the coffin and seals away [name]’s trepidation. Instead, her own sass comes out to join the fun.

“Nah,” she hums playfully, the chocolate-covered wafer cookie crunching between her teeth. “Quit calling me kid, coach. I’m a lady,” the irony isn’t lost on either of them as she speaks with her mouth full.

“Still a kid, kid. And quit calling me coach, I’m not your damn coach.” The familiar, grumpy attitude of his brings [name] back to the Ukai she knew back in high school. In a mix of nostalgia, warmth washes over her as the haughty tone in his voice sent shivers down her spine like it did a few years back.

“Sure thing, coach,” she teases again before tossing the wrapper of the stolen candy bar into the nearest bin. “You’re at the club tomorrow, right?” The question adds a bit of context and confirmation to Ukai—it seems she knew when Spira was performing, meaning she must have been a patron for a decent amount of time. Part of him wonders how she never realized who he was before, another part wonders how he’s never noticed her considering she could make all traffic stop if she stood in the middle of a freeway. At least, that’s what looking at her did to his heart.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe this time, you’ll join us at the after party.” Without another word, [name] pushes herself away from the counter she’d been leaning on while talking to the blonde man. With Akiteru giving him the weekend off, he actually entertained the thought of attending this time. Even if her invitation was rather blasé and indirect, he didn’t see the opportunity of him attending one presenting itself any time soon. He may be old, by his own standard, but there was a unknown allure to the thought of showing up to a wild party with a woman that was so adamant of his attendance.

Or rather, adamant in his mind. Whether she actually wanted his company remained to be seen, but the curiosity was gnawing at him, and was something he would have to unearth sooner rather than later.

Having an entire night, or a day’s worth, of rest was a rather disorienting, yet pleasant feeling for Ukai. After tending to crops and returning home in the early hours of the morning, the blonde coach was able to catch a solid nine hours of sleep before his shift at the Sakanoshita store with another chance to nap before he needed to head to the club. Despite knowing he had the ability to do so before another restless night, his mind felt the need to keep him awake and alert. Even after showering and styling his blonde tresses into their usual mane—mundane acts that usually came to him automatically—he was hyper aware of the slightest unruly flyaways.

Ukai Keishin was nervous.

He didn’t know what to wear or if there was a dress code or if anything he typically wore would be deemed worthy of an after party. A part of him wanted to leave it alone and let him sport his usual white track pants and tight, maroon muscle tank, but that part of him immediately drowns in the ocean of his anxiety. Another string in his brain prompted him to dress up just a little bit to help him look the part—it had nothing to do with impressing a certain club patron, no—he tried to convince himself. A miserable attempt, but still one nonetheless.

Eventually, he settled on crisp, dark-washed jeans that hugged his muscular legs without being suffocating, paired with a vibrant, crimson muscle tee that hugged his biceps all the same. Ukai still felt a little out of place in the attire, as he often had back when he first assumed the alias Spira, but headed out the door of his apartment before his conscious could dispute it.

He was early again, even more so than normal. Desperate for a drink to calm his nerves and replace his blood with liquid courage, Ukai worms his way around to the bar, signaling the attendant for his usual. Rum and coke in hand, the DJ stands off to the side, hiding like a wallflower, while he studied the sweaty, dancing bodies. Did he know why he was looking for her—no. Maybe partially to tell her she owed him for the candy bar, maybe to tell her he was joining in on the after party this time around.

Maybe to just see her.

Keishin banishes the last thought with a shake of his head before skulking off to the attached patio to smoke. Pulling a cigarette from his pack and a lighter from his pocket, the flame torches the end of the filter at the same time the blonde inhales. Forcefully pushing the smoke out past his lips, Ukai takes a hearty sip of his drink until it’s nearly gone. He was going to need something stronger tonight.

“Is it that time already?” The older man’s head snaps to the voice that had been haunting him subconsciously.

Part of him wishes he didn’t look.

As if to play into her question, [name] checks the large, rose gold watch on her right wrist—an incredibly stark contrast to her outfit for the evening. Maybe it was a hunch when Ukai felt that he had been underdressed, as if his intuition knew that she was going to be dressed to the nines in a black skater dress. Even with a modest neckline, the lace cut out detailing on the sides of the dress accentuated her curves impeccably, playing well with the volume of the skirt, while the open back she was sporting dipped dangerously low.

It took everything in Ukai to not throw every milliliter of restraint and inhibition out the window and fuck her right then and there.

Taking a lengthy drag of his cigarette to hold himself back, Keishin inhales deeply, the smoke billowing past his lips emerging densely and grey in color. “I’m a little early—needed an extra drink today.” The man manages to choke out, downing whatever is left in his little plastic cup for added emphasis.

“Need another?” [name] chirps politely; almost too politely as if to deliberately dispute the salacious thoughts flooding the coaches mind.

“I can get—“

“I owe you anyway,” she reminds him, alluding to the candy bar she had eaten without paying for from the previous night. “Pick your poison.”

“Double rum and coke.” He concedes. [name]’s lips twitch upward slightly at the corner before she plucks the empty cup from Ukai’s hand. He doesn’t miss the way the shellac on her nails grazes against his skin, leaving the whispers of contact to run warm. Immediately, the blonde man uses the nearly dead cigarette between his teeth to light a fresh one—heaven or hell knows he needed the nicotine right now.

Given the silence, Keishin takes the opportunity to absorb his surroundings. From the general direction that [name] initially came from, she wasn’t around any of her friends or really anyone that he knew. That was good at least; there wasn’t anybody else that knew of his presence. [name] returns, two clear plastic cups in her hands and surrenders the darker of the two to the man awaiting. “Hold mine for a sec?” Without thinking, Keishin holds his cigarette between his left index and middle fingers, his drink in the same hand, while taking hers. To his surprise, she pulls out her own pack of menthols and a torch lighter, setting the leaves ablaze before taking her obvious vodka cranberry back.

“You took up smoking?” The older of the two asks in surprise, noting the way her lipstick leaves the slightest bit of residue along the brown filter. [name] gives a shrug.

“Surprised you didn’t notice it sooner, coach. I’ve been smoking since second year.” Ukai gives a roll of his eyes at the use of this strange pet name he’s been dubbed by her. But he thinks about it, thinks about how Suga must have felt probably knowing that she did. Thinks how it just added to this strange, sassy yet happy, wild and free exterior she now had. And [name] notices instantly the very same look Ukai had in his face when he was trying to strategize, trying to figure out a way to navigate a conversation with his team about becoming better—she knows what’s coming next. “Yeah, yeah, I know I should quit or whatever. Suga lost that argument a long time ago.”

“Can’t really tell you what to do when I’m just as guilty.” Ukai gives a laugh—one that is embedded with bitterness and envy at the mention of the third-year setter—yet is just as vivacious as he is. A sound entirely different than she’d ever heard leave his lungs before. She likes it.

After finishing his smoke, Keishin gulps down a hefty swig of his drink before patting [name] on the shoulder before announcing his departure. “I’ll see you inside,” the girl, woman, calls out thoughtfully as she gives a small wave with her cigarette filter between her fingers. Ukai doesn’t verbalize the same sentiment. He doesn’t want to slip up and admit he’ll be looking for her.

But it’s painfully obvious that he is when he takes over the booth. Unable to hide the fact that with every chance that he looks into the audience, he’s searching for that black skater dress that hugs her all too perfectly, [hair color] locks swaying as she moves in the crowd. Ukai can’t hide it at all—not behind the turn table or new remixes meant to get the crowd moving.

He can’t hide the urgency he feels to find her outside in the crisp evening air, smoking on the back patio of the club after his set. [name] is talking and laughing with her friends while thin grey smoke billows from her open mouth before her eyes land on him. Some of her friends take notice to the tension and their shared gazes, some of them whispering his alias in excitement. But [name] just smiles knowingly, if not a little cocky, because she can see that urgency, that desperation, that Ukai was trying to hide. “Wait, [name], do you know Spira?” A bystander asked. Clearly, they weren’t present the last time this was brought up.

“Yeah, I may have met him once or twice,” the woman in question snickers as she strides over closer and closer to the aforementioned DJ.

“Cute,” Ukai sneers teasingly at her jab before instinctively reaching for the half-gone cigarette she pulls to her stained lips. At first, she thought he was going to put it out, considering their little conversation from a few hours ago. Instead, the volleyball coach puts the filter to his own lips, noting the damp fabric probably from her freshly applied lipgloss, and takes a drag. It tasted like watermelons and mint.

“Cheeky,” [name] returns, plucking her cancer stick back from the blonde man. While her friends are still behind her murmuring about the familiarity between the two of them, Keishin and [name] are lost in their own little world. “So since your set is over, and considering you’re still here, I’m assuming you’re joining me for the after party? Or do you have to go to work again?”

“I told them I’d be out of town this weekend,” Ukai tries to play it off as nonchalantly as he could, ties to swallow it down his nerves with rum and nicotine. It proves rather difficult considering the coy smile on [name]’s face is wearing and cracking through his resolve rather quickly. But at least, to him, he could confirm his mind was not playing tricks on him and [name] was just as adamant about his attendance as he initially thought. Even more so with her next statement.

“Cool. Your car or mine?” It took him a minute to process her words even—lust thickening and constricting the flow to his brain at the vague question. Ukai was getting far too ahead of himself, but goddammit how could he focus when the fabric of her skirt hit her mid-thigh and framed her like a Venetian goddess—“I don’t mind driving there.” She adds to coax him away from his silence.

“Nah, I got it. We’ll take mine.”

“Lead the way,” [name] chimes sweetly as she wraps an arm around the coach’s forearm. The physical touch is everything he’s been fantasizing about for the last few days—hellfire and brimstone and sunlight and goddammit why did he wear jeans that were only getting tighter and tighter?

Ukai opens the passenger door to his SUV, supporting the woman as she clambered in cautiously so as not to stumble from her heels. Getting settled in, the coach surrenders his unlocked phone to allow her the entirety of his music library. The irony of the DJ surrendering DJ rights to the passenger was not lost on either of them. Much to his surprise, [name] put on soft acoustic punk as he usually did on his way home from the club. The kind of softness one would turn on to accompany the fragile pitter-patter of rain against the windshield. “Cardboard Swords?” Ukai asks in surprise, more than familiar with the band.

“Flannel is a favorite of mine. I’m kind of surprised it’s in your library.” She adds after she begins directing him to this evening’s party location. From the corner of his eyes, he can see the way her full lips are moving along each word with expertise. He sees the way her [eye color] orbs soften slightly and he can tell this song hits home for her.

She’ll never say why—she’ll never tell him this was the song that helped her move on from Sugawara Koushi while restoring her inner peace.

But Keishin is no fool. He can tell that this is physically hurting her—crushing her soul into the leather seat of his car and, instinctually, he wraps a large hand around hers that’s resting in her lap. “I came out tonight to have fun with you, so don’t you go getting sad on me.” He means each word with innocent intent, yet he cannot ignore the almost hidden, salacious drip to each syllable and neither can she. How could she when his touch sent volts of electricity through her skin?

“Right, right,” she says in a conceding tone, switching the audio to something much more upbeat and a little flirty. “Why did you agree to go out tonight?” If Ukai had an answer, then it died on his lips as he let go of [name]’s hand to reach for another cigarette. The process of lighting the tube, inhaling, and exhaling bought him an extra minute to come up with an excuse; her doing the same giving him another thirty seconds.

“I don’t know.” It’s a blatant lie—a lie that [name] believes all too easily—but Ukai can’t bring himself to admit the truth. He can’t admit out loud that she’s the only thing that’s been on his mind all week or that he jumped at the opportunity, created one even, to be able to have a one-on-one moment with her. Keishin can’t admit that he can tell there are intricate webs spun in her mind and that all he wants to do is untangle them one by one.

And he certainly can’t tell her that even the mere sight of her sends his brain into overdrive and all he wants to do is repeatedly fill her over and over with his seed until she is entirely his, inside and out in mind, body, and soul. There was no way in the nine circles of hell that Ukai Keishin was going to admit to his sinful thoughts.

“It’s just up here.” [name] points with gaunt fingers, cigarette between them as her voice is half choked from inhaling her own smoke. Mirroring the man’s actions earlier, she indulged in her own nicotine habit to quell the budding disappointment from Ukai’s lackluster response. They drove up a slight winding hill and as the trees pass by, the itch for her truth and her history was gnawing at him. He wanted to know why this rambunctious party girl invited him all week to these elusive after parties. Why Flannel ate away at her insides like it did his. Why did her and Sugawara breakup?

But he decides against it for the moment.

“Where are we?” Ukai asks. There’s cars all lining the sides of the road of varying worth—he felt even more out of place than normal with his older SUV, even if it was an upgrade for him, considering the large number of luxury vehicles.

“Bevelle’s house.” [name] says simply, pointing to an empty space in the streets as she throws the butt of her cigarette into the road. The casual way she name drops the owner of the club makes him gawk, catching flies in his mouth had there been any at the hour. With a satisfied, cheesy grin, she hops out of her seat and walks in the grass to meet Ukai on the other side as he clambers out of the vehicle as well. In familiarity, she grips into his forearm once again as they walk towards the forest mansion.

Keishin wasn’t sure what to expect when the two of them walked in, but a home full of people screaming his pseudonym and her name was not on that list. Younger hordes had surrounded [name], greeting her warmly and telling her how glad they were to see her again for the evening. Others were approaching Ukai, telling them how rare and a momentous occasion that the infamous artist Spira was amongst their midst.

“Glad to see you could join us, Spira.” His boss and club owner, Bevelle, approaches the mismatched couple. Bevelle was an alias used by the middle aged woman, her real name unknown to those that didn’t know her know her, and was once upon a time her stage name. While she had chosen a quiet location in the Miyagi prefecture, Bevelle was quite known in the underground scene. Granted, Ukai didn’t know any of that when he’d taken the job. If anything, it was all thanks to her that he was able to learn for his own success as well as granting him the opportunity to learn in the first place. “Good to see you too, trouble.” Bevelle affectionately goes to muss at [name]’s hair, to which she only replies with a cheeky grin.

“How do you know Bevelle?” Ukai presses his lips towards the ear of the woman still hanging onto him as she expertly leads the way to the kitchen. The car ride left her feeling slightly uncomfortable, ashamed even though she would never admit to that, and she knew she definitely needed a drink after it. Part of her was heavily rebuking herself for trying to pry into his mind by asking why he came along, even more so when she put on the one song that shattered her heart every time she heard it. It just excited her that he had it in his library, that he even knew who The Cardboard Swords were, and that he enjoyed the same obscure taste in music as much as she did.

“She’s a close family friend!” The chirp that [name] gives isn’t entirely convincing, like she isn’t telling the truth. Regardless, Ukai washes down his doubt with the beer he was handed, figuring she probably had her reasons. And as soon as the plastic is in each of their hands, [name] downs the contents immediately, hoping to drown out the nerves ebbing from her stomach with vodka. She should have been ecstatic—her old high school crush, her unrequited crush, was here with her, drinking side by side but she can’t help but feel the tension between them—sexual or otherwise.

Just as the two of them down their second round, a piercing voice cuts through the thicket of the masses, calling out her name and capturing her attention. “It’s your song! Come on!” A shrug and a smile crosses [name]’s features as she’s all but dragged away to a different part of the mansion. Much to his surprise, she grabbed onto Keishin to drag him along as well.

The two of them are presented with a myriad of sweaty, rolling bodies—much more gone than Ukai had ever seen at the club itself. It was oddly...sensual, if it could be called that, to see the fluid movements between party goers. Sensual, intimate, strange—all of them could be used interchangeably at this moment.

[name] is dancing with another woman, mouthing all of the words to the current pop song while bobbing and jumping around excitedly before her eyes lock on his. She’s in her element now. All sunshine and smiles like Ukai had seen from on occasion from years ago or most recently at the club, but they’re directed at him for once as she pulls him closer onto the dance floor. The taunting beats and repetitive call of “come on” and the way [name] loosely wraps her arms around his neck as she dances brings Ukai to the realization that this was the end of the line.

The end of the line, because Keishin can’t hold himself back anymore.

Not with the way her hips are grinding against is and she’s laughing warmly and heartily at his slight discomfort and her teeth are glittering off the lights in the dark room like stars in the night sky. Not with the way her head is thrown back and her dress drops low enough to flaunt the expanse of bare skin of her neck and collar bones that are just begging him to sink his teeth in. Not with the way her [eye color]ed orbs are locked with his as she sings along with the music, oddly enough alluding to some form of confession of her feelings.

He can’t fucking take it anymore.

The large hands he has on her hips move just under her arms to hoist her up, [name] instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist to keep her balance. Their eyes are locked, honed in on each other with the rest of the party melting into the background. With her deepest, most wild high school fantasy driving her actions, she grins. “Hi,” is all she says before Ukai cranes his neck back to cover her lips with his.

His kiss is everything she imagined it would be after years of pining. The smell and taste of smoke and wood floods her senses as his tongue laps at the watermelon lip gloss on her bottom lip before seeking refuge within her mouth. His hands, now wrapped around her thighs give intermittent squeezes, either to keep them grounded in reality or just because he needs something to clutch at—she’s unsure of which. In response, her manicured fingernails tangle into his messy blonde locks. Their kiss pours out their desperation, laying it all out on the table for the both of them to see clear as day.

The only thing that prompts them to break apart is the ending of the song.

“You wanna get out of here?” Ukai asks as he tenderly puts [name] back on the ground. As if he weren’t just making out with her moments ago, the motion is delicate and gingerly and almost loving.

“Not yet,” there’s a knowing, smug lilt in her voice as she turns on her heel and throw herself back into the throng of party people. Or rather, attempts. While she’s attempting to flee, Keishin snatches her wrist, pulling her closer until their chests are flush against each other.

“Nuh uh,” the blonde man tuts, “you’ve been asking me to join you at a party all week, now here I am. The hell makes you think you’re leaving my side tonight?” [name]’s grin only grows wider.

“I’ve waited for years for this opportunity, coach, so if you think I’m not gonna have fun with it, you’re dead wrong.” The word ‘years’ constricts the man’s heart—forces his pupils to blow into dilation with her modest, yet blunt confession.

“Years?”

“Years,” she repeats, “ever since that first practice you stumbled into the Karasuno gym as the temporary coach. Why do you think I came to every single exhibition match and tournament? Or came to study and do homework while you guys had practice?” This girl was grinding at every steel line of self-control that was left in Ukai’s body because every word spilling past her lips added an additional ten volts to the sexual tension between them.

“We’re leaving.” He bites out despite the delicate tone. Wrapping his hand around hers once again, Keishin tugs her along time dodge the party goers that threw the two of them curious glances, wondering why they were quick to leave shortly after their arrival. Just to tease him further, [name] almost wants to offer a rebuttal and tell him that they should stay longer and enjoy the show. However, she knows she’s done enough waiting and if he was taking her home, she wasn’t going to argue.

While urgency and desperation was their game, Keishin didn’t cut corners when it came to presenting himself as a gentleman as he helped [name] back into the car. Hormones be damned—he was still going to help a lady into the passengers seat. “You never did tell me why you finally agreed to come out tonight.” She says quietly, as if the two of them hadn’t been making out and dry humping a few minutes prior. “And it’s clearly not because you knew I had a crush on you all throughout third year—“

“Don’t act like you’re the only one with feelings in this.” Ukai grits out, speeding much faster back home than he did on the way to Bevelle’s house. Paying that no mind, [name]’s ears perk up at his own wayward confession. When she asked for clarity, a rumbling groan shakes his chest as he patted down his pockets in search for his nicotine sticks. “I didn’t recognize you the first night at the club because you look different now. Happiness looks good on you.”

“Happiness?” She echos confusedly, turning to face Ukai fully after lighting her own cigarette.

“You used to always look content back then—just barely content and nothing more. And I can’t stop thinking back to those days because you’re this ball of sunshine, kid, and I can’t stop wondering what the hell Suga did to you to dim your shine that badly. I haven’t stopped thinking about you all week.”

[name] is quiet for a moment at his own rendition, his own version, of a confession and she’s stunned. And she can’t tell if she wants to cry or kiss him because this is not that way she ever fantasized this conversation going. It was going better than she dreamed. Better, because the words that Ukai is saying adds an entirely new layer to his amped up personality—he wasn’t just the sexy volleyball coach that she used to pine over. He was a person with deep rooted feelings for justice in the sense of wanting to understand how someone could inflict damage to the innocent and he wanted to rectify said injustices. He wanted to know how someone like Suga could try to dampen her sunlight instead of allowing her to thrive and bloom.

She wants to kiss him, she decides, but since he’s driving, she settles for placing a chaste one on the corner of his mouth. “Serves you right,” she jokes when she pulls away, “it’s been a long four years for me. It’s your turn to suffer.”

“Trust me, this car ride is torture enough.”

[ next ]

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 11

Title: Old Wounds

Warnings: none. But there’s always profanity, just an FYI

Tagging: @alievans007​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @tragiclyhip​

“Well I’ve got good news and bad news,” Tyler announces, as he descends the stairs later in the evening, pausing at the front entrance to switch off the foyer light and lock the door and set the alarm before joining his wife in the living room. “Which do you want first?”

Esme glances up from the mountains of clean laundry that takes up residence at her feet and on the already cluttered coffee table. Laundry baskets of differing colours are scattered around the room. A larger one that consists of their clothing and smaller containers labelled with each of the kids’ names; the latter eventually being placed in intervals on the stairs in hopes they’ll be carried up to the corresponding rooms. For the most part, the kids are good at getting their assigned chores done. The littles enjoying a ‘sticker chart’ that signifies a treat or toy of their choosing when full, and the older ones satisfied with decent sized allowances. Despite an extremely healthy bank account and money constantly flowing in, they’re still expected to ‘tow the line’; being taught responsibility and learning skills that will help them become self reliant and well functioning adults.

She wrinkles her nose and scowls. “Depends. On a scale of one to ten, how bad IS the bad news?”

“Considering it’s our kids we’re talking about?” He drops heavily onto the couch, wincing at the stiffness in his right knee when he stretches his leg out and places his foot on the edge of the coffee table. The cold weather is aggravating it; causing the arthritis to flare up and bringing with it an incessant ache that seems to have burrowed into the bone. Two reconstructive surgeries and a host of complications later, it’s as good as that leg is going to get. Already told to be prepared for a third surgery before he hits sixty. If he makes it that far. “I don’t know. I guess a four? Five at the most?”

“So that means no broken bones, knocked out teeth, and no one is unconscious or bleeding. In other words, it’s a relatively tame night for our house. Still…” she tosses a pair of mismatched socks into Tanner’s basket. He’s particular; socks always scrunched into a ball, never matching, and his other clothes separated by colour yet not folded, preferring to do it himself once he takes the basket upstairs. “...tell me the good news first. It’s been a weird day.”

“The good news is that all the little ones are already asleep. Tanner’s on his way out but he’s sleeping in the tub in the boys’ bathroom again because TJ and Declan are being too loud. Not even the headphones and locking himself in his happy place were doing the trick. I tried.”

“Well, at least he finds ways to cope and make himself happy, I guess. The bad news?”

“Millie and Alannah are showing no signs of slowing down. So if you’re wanting to actually get some shut eye, you might want to camp out down here. It’s going to be a long ass night.”

“Maybe I’ll borrow Tanner’s headphones,” she says, then grins at him over her shoulder. “That should help fend off your snoring too.”

“It can’t be THAT bad. You’ve been sharing a bed with me for twelve and a half years. I notice you don’t ever head for the couch. You put up with it.”

“Do you know many times in the past twelve and a half years I’ve been tempted to smother you with a pillow? Many. Many. MANY times.”

“Yet I’m still here.”

“Mostly because I wouldn’t do well in jail. I’d never survive in there. And prison jumpsuit orange is NOT my colour.”

“And here I was thinking maybe I’ve survived because you just love me THAT much.”

“It plays a small part in it. But just a small one. Just so you know.”

“You’d miss me. If I wasn’t around.”

“Like a migraine,” she teases, and yelps when he lands a playful yet solid backhand on one of the cheeks of her ass. “That’s not nice. That��s not friends.”

“Is that what we are? Friends? That’s as far as we’ve come in twelve and a half years?”

“Friends with the best benefits,” she chides, and snags an unfolded towel from the pile of laundry on the floor and smacks him upside the head with it. “I wouldn’t complain if I were you. You wouldn’t suddenly want to find yourself facing an extremely long dry spell.”

“I’d be alright. I have three wank files on my phone now.”

“Three? What do you need three for? And how do you even have that many pictures of me in the first place? Are you sneaking them while I’m asleep? Because that’s just...creepy...if you are.”

“Bold of you to assume that it’s just pictures of you.”

She drops her chin to her chest and stares at him pointedly.

“I’m kidding. I only need pictures of you. No one else. Well, there’s a couple of videos too, but…”

“I swear to God, if anyone ever goes into your phone and finds those? I will kill you. In the most brutal and painful way possible. Why do you need videos anyway?”

“Homemade porn. Best you can get.”

“You can’t watch regular porn like regular people?”

“I mean, I COULD. But I don’t want to. I want to watch you. Unleashing your inner porn star. Getting all freaky and kinky and shit. You should watch them with me. Be kind of hot, don’t think? Watch them and make a new one?”

“You’ve got issues. Serious issues.”

“I can’t help it. I can’t help that my wife is a total MILF. That she looks all tiny and cute and innocent but is a freak in bed. You shouldn’t have been so eager and willing if you didn’t want me scooping you up at that quick.”

She smirks. “I thought you said I was a B plus?”

“You were. Until I got a hold of you. Now? Solid A plus, plus, PLUS.”

“So you’re finally admitting that you DID corrupt me. After twelve and a half years denying it.”

“I merely helped you build on your skills. Improve them. I was more than willing to let you experiment on me.”

“Mmmhmm. You know, I was a good girl until you got a hold of me.”

“Like fuck you were. Good girls do NOT bang a guy...for five days straight...that they barely know. Unprotected.”

“I admit, that was not one of my finer judgement calls. But I trusted you. You didn’t seem like the type that didn’t take precautions. I mean, looking like you do and having women in different ports all over the world? That was a given. But you didn’t strike me as the type that wanted kids all over the world. Or STD’s. I trusted you. For some reason.”

“You just wanted the dick. Admit it. You were willing to sacrifice all your morals and standards for it.”

“I will admit to no such things. You were just as into it as I was. You didn’t exactly turn sex down. You didn’t seem too concerned about the whole protection thing. How did you know I wasn’t some hoe crawling with Lord knows what? How’d you know you weren’t going to get the burn?”

“I trusted you. Against my better judgement.”

Smirking, she cocks her head to the side and regards him with a mixture of disdain and amusement.

“You were all cute and tiny and innocent looking. Boy did I learn. Quick.”

“Something tells me you wouldn’t have kept me around if I was TOO cute and innocent. I knew just enough to make you want it, yet still gave you a pretty clean slate to work with. You must be so proud of yourself. Corrupting me like you have. Moulding me into some freak in bed.”

“Babe, you had a freak inside of you, just took good dick to bring it out. You are some of my best work though. You didn’t turn out too bad.”

She gives a derisive snort.

“Aren’t you glad you went along with Nik’s fucked up idea? Was it not the best decision of your life?”

“I don’t know about the best,” she teases, and drops a load of clean wash in his lap. “But you’re on my top five list.”

“Well for what it’s worth, it’s definitely the best decision I ever made. And you have to admit, the whole lack of protection thing? It didn’t turn out too bad.”

“I don’t know about that. She’s turning into quite the hell beast. You know those hellhounds on Supernatural? Millie could be their ruler. In fact, they’d be scared of HER. Although I have figured it out. Why she’s been extra bitchy lately.”

“Please tell me it’s not boys. Bad enough we had one phone here. I don’t want to find out there’s more.”

“It’s not boys. Although…” she drops down onto the couch beside him. “...that will come soon enough. Puberty. It’s puberty.”

“Excuse me?”

“It hasn’t happened yet. The big event. She hasn’t gotten her period.”

“We are NOT having this conversation.”

“As uncomfortable as it makes you, we have to have it. Because it’s going to happen. Soon.”

“She’s eleven.”

“She’ll be twelve in March. I was just shy of twelve when I got mine.”

He turns his attention to the pile of laundry in his lap. “I do NOT want to hear this.”

“I’m just trying to prepare you. The mood swings? The skin breakouts? The fact she’s starting to develop and has already asked me to take her shopping for bras…”

“Don’t. Please don’t. I’m not listening to you. I refuse to listen to you.”

“...means that things are going to happen. Soon. And we need to be prepared. Especially you.”

“Why me? Why do I need to be more prepared than you?”

“Because I’ve had my period for almost thirty years. I’m obviously experienced in these things.”

“And I’ve lived with you for twelve of those thirty years. Who is the one that bears the brunt of the shit storm when you get all mean and moody and shit? Who’s the one that’s been bringing your bitchy ass chocolate and ice cream? Who’s the one that will massage your back and bring you a heating pad when the cramps are bad? Never mind that, who’s had to go to the store and buy you woman stuff?”

“You’ve been very good about it. But in all fairness, if you really think about it? I haven’t had my period that much since we’ve been together. You may have done all those very sweet and amazing things, but you’ve also gotten me pregnant with seven kids. In twelve years.”

“That is a very good point, actually.”

“All I’m saying is that things are going to happen. Soon. And I just want you to be prepared for it. I know it bothers you to think about it. Your baby girl growing up. But she is. Growing up. And she’s doing it very quickly. You need to step up your game and be ready for anything.”

“I really hate you right now.”

“Do you, Tyler? Do you REALLY?”

Leaning into her, he presses a kiss to her temple. “No. Not in the slightest.”

“I just want you to be prepared. In case it happens when I’m not home. So you know what to do.”

“You’re not leaving the house from here on out. Until she DOES get it.”

“You’ll be fine. I’ll make sure everything is in the house that you’ll need in case it does happen. I remember when Riley was going through puberty. My mom was totally useless. It was a disaster when I started mine. She would have been more than willing to just let me bleed all over the place. I had to stuff toilet paper in my underwear and steal money out of her purse so I could go to the store and get necessities.”

He grins. “My wife the felon.”

“So I made sure Riley would never have to go through that kind of humiliation. I made up this basket for her. Pads, tampons, a heating pad, chocolate bars, some pain killers. Everything she’d need. I’ll do that for Millie too. And I’ll put it somewhere where you can find it. So you’re ready if it happens and I’m not home.”

“Do we really have to keep talking about this?”

“Stick your head in the sand all you want, husband. It’s going to happen. Whether you like it or not. I know she’s your little girl. Your miracle baby. But she’s growing up. And it’s happening very fast and there’s nothing we can do to stop it, I’m not exactly happy about it either. This is all happening way too quick for my liking. Where the hell has the last twelve years gone? We’re going to have a teenager. Very soon.”

“Not to make things worse, but we’re going to have three in the house in just over two years.”

“You’re not helping. Seriously though. Where has that time gone? Some days it feels like we just met, don’t you think?”

“Now that I think about it, there are days you drive me as fucking nuts as you did that that first day in Dhaka.”

“Fuck you! I was cute and charming.”

“You were a pain in my ass.”

“But I was a CUTE pain in your ass. You can’t deny that.”

“You were something alright.”

“Look, just because you were having the feels for me and didn’t know how to handle it, that’s not my fault. And for the record, I would have been able to handle myself. In the market. If things went south.”

“Sure you would have. You would have been just fine. All five foot nothing and a hundred pounds of you.”

“Good things come in small packages. You didn’t need to watch me that closely.”

“Yes. I did. I very much did. You know what would have happened if Asif’s thugs got a hold of you? The end result would not have been pretty.”

“I think you use that as an excuse. I think you just wanted me that close because you WERE having feels for me.”

“I am neither going to admit OR deny that.”

“You don’t have to. I’ve caught on to you. You can keep lying to yourself about your motives back then, but I know what you were up to. And it’s very sweet. That you wanted to keep me safe and sound because you had feels for me.”

“Do you want me to be totally honest?”

“Always.”

“I really just wanted to keep you close so I could look at your ass. And because I was hoping to get laid. I needed you to be safe and in one piece for that to happen.”

She stares at him pointedly.

“I’m just saying. You want honesty? There’s your honesty. You were cute and had a wicked body and I was horny as fuck and wanted you to fix that. And boy, did you ever fix it.”

“And I'm still fixing it. Twelve and a half years later. You lucky bastard.”

“I am lucky.” A slow smile spreads across his face. “Very lucky.”

“It’s weird.” She turns her attention back to folding the laundry at her feet. “Sometimes it DOES seem like it was just yesterday. Where DID the time go? How did we end up old enough to have a pre-teen? I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel old enough for that.”

“The way my body is? I feel old enough to have a kid in college, never mind becoming a teenager. Which leads me to the other bad news.”

“Oh God…” Esme groans. “...there’s more?”

“These?” He reaches into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out a pair of reading glasses. “Don’t do shit anymore. I can see up close, but I can’t see fuck all far away. You know what that means?”

“Your eyesight is shit. Which I’ve been telling you for the last three years. Is it just your right eye?”

“That one’s worse.” It’s a mixture of things. The knife that Nathan had dug into his face -the sharp blade cutting deep and causing problems with the surrounding nerves- and the multitude of concussions suffered over the years. The last one five years ago had been the tipping point; causing permanent and extensive damage to the optic nerve. “ But they’re both shit.”

“When we get home you’ll have to call and schedule an eye appointment. And while you’re at it, you should call and get that hearing test done.”

“I don’t need one done. I know my hearing is fucked.”

“Fucked or not, you need one. So you know what you’re dealing with. You might need a hearing aid.”

“That’s a huge ‘fuck no’ from me.”

“I know it makes you feel old; glasses and hearing aids and arthritis and all the aches and pains. But you ARE getting close to fifty. And you’ve had a hard life. There’s been a lot of damage done. Isn’t it better to get on top of those things? So they don’t get worse? I just want you to have a good life. I want you to be around for a long while. And if that means you have to wear glasses on a permanent basis and get a hearing aid…”

“I’m sorry. Are you talking? I couldn’t hear you. It’s my old age.”

“It’s not old age. You’re just an asshole. Always have been, always will be. But you’re my asshole and I want to keep you around. And I know YOU want to stick around. Especially for your kids. So do it for them? Get your eyes and your hearing tested. Please? Because we love you, you insufferable, stubborn pain in my ass. And us loving you? That’s not going to change because you need help hearing and seeing.”

“I’ll be ugly as fuck. If I have to wear glasses all the time.”

“It’s impossible for you to be ugly. In fact…” she plucks the glasses from his hand and slips them onto his face. “...I think you’re quite sexy in them.”

“You know, you’re not half bad looking when I can actually see.”

She laughs and shoves him back against the couch. “You’re a total dick.”

“Fuck you, you love me.”

“I do. Despite my better judgement and the warnings from friends and family.”

Smirking, he lays a hand on the back of her head and pulls her into him; speaking with the tips of their noses pressed together and lips mere inches apart. “Why are you so mean to me? You’re always so mean.”

“I know. You have it so rough. I am the worst wife EVER. I’m horrible. Just horrible. How you put up with me defies all logic.”

“It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it. It’s my cross to bear.”

“You poor bastard,” she laughs, a palm coming to rest on the side of his face when he kisses her. Long and slow and sweet, followed by a series of small pecks and then concluded with the press of his lips against her forehead; her eyes fluttering closed and a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth. It’s always been one of her favorite things; those feathery kisses placed on her brow and the weight of his hand on the back of her neck and the warmth of his body so close to hers. It’s sweet and it’s pure; intimacy at its most basic and innocent of levels. And her smile widens when a calloused fingertip softly traces the slope of her nose and his lips press against the tip. “You and your freckles.”

“Well technically, they’re YOUR freckles.”

“You’re staring at them aren’t you.”

“Not staring. Admiring.”

“Admiring what? They’re ugly.”

“They’re adorable. And you’re beautiful.” He presses a kiss to each corner of her mouth, hand smoothing wayward strands of hair away from the sides of her face and neck.

Her eyes flutter open. “Why do you look at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like THAT. How you’re looking at me right now. Just so...I don’t know...I don’t know how to describe it. But you always do it. Your face changes. So does the colour of your eyes. It’s like you’re looking at me for the very first time all over again. Even though you’ve seen me nearly every day for the last twelve and a half years. Yet you still do it. Look at me like that. Like I’m the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen.”

“Maybe you are. Maybe to me you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. Maybe all I see is you. Maybe because everything that is amazing and perfect in my life is because of you. All this? A place like this? My kids? Us? None of that would exist if it wasn’t for you. If you hadn’t stuck around on that bridge…”

“But I did. I DID stick around. And if it happened a thousand times, I would make the exact same decision. No hesitations. I did the right thing. No one can ever tell me different.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you put your ass on the line for a guy that was a complete and utter fucking mess.”

“Well I guess I just saw the potential,” she chides, and then kisses him; fingernails lightly scraping along the bottom of his hairline “You know what I really want right now?”

“I’m hoping you’re going to say sex, but I have a sneaky feeling that’s not it.”

“Leftover Chinese food. And my last chocolate croissant.”

“And then sex?”

Laying a hand on the side of his head, she pulls him closer; placing a series of feathery kisses along his jaw and then grinning against his ear. “Maybe.”

*****

An hour later they sit in the sunroom; the remnants of a late night meal on the coffee table, the area illuminated by strings of multi-colored Christmas lights lining each pane of glass and the soft glow given off by the space heater. It’s the kind of quiet and relaxation that is extremely rare to find especially during the holiday season; one that comes only when everything on your ‘to do list’ has been checked off. It’s a relief to have it all done; every last minute gift snagged, almost all the wrapping relegated to a very accommodating and willing Desi, fridges and freezers stocked and the house fully decorated both inside and out.

It had been a learning process; getting comfortable with celebrating the season while still harbouring painful childhood trauma and the memories of six Christmases with his first child. But Esme had made it easier; never pushing him to ‘get into the spirit’ and knowing what lines shouldn’t be crossing and learning to step back when the trauma of the past would begin to fester. Seeing her enjoyment of the holiday had helped; the excitement she shows over something as simple as a walk or a drive to look at other peoples’ lights, the joy she gets in buying things for the kids and keeping the magic alive and seeing their faces light up on Christmas morning. And he’d come around a little bit at a time; a distaste for the holiday becoming more bearable as the years went on and eventually being replaced with actual enjoyment and appreciation. And now that the hard work is done, it’s time to relish in accomplishment; a quiet house and the ambiance and the press of her head against his chest and the feel of her hair as it slowly slips through his fingers. He’d gladly stay there all the night; away from the giggles and chatter that drift down from their daughter’s room, lulled to sleep by the familiar weight of his wife’s body against his and the warmth that radiates from her. Nothing sexual about it; just quiet, soft intimacy in its purest form.

His eyes flicker open when he feels her move away; head lifting from the back of the couch and as her hair slips from between his fingers. “You okay?”

She gives a sheepish, almost nervous smile. “We need to talk.”

“So no, you’re not.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m okay.”

“Babe, nothing good ever comes after ‘we need to talk’.”

“Everything’s fine. The kids are good, I’m good, we’re good. Just something has been eating at me all day and I wasn’t even going to bring it up but I just know it’s going to keep me up all night if I don’t get it out.”

“How bad is this thing that’s been eating at you? Because the way you said ‘we need to talk’...”

“It’s not bad. On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, it’s maybe a three. A four. At the most.”

“Okay. What is it? What’s going on?”

“Before I tell you…” she turns her body to face him. “.... there’s some other things I need to say. First, I want you to promise you won’t get upset.”

“It’s obviously worse than a four if you think it’s going to upset me. It takes a lot; for you to piss me off.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘pissing you off’. Just I can totally see why you might take it the wrong way and get defensive. And there’s no reason for you to be. Defensive.”

“It’s not about the job is it? Because we already talked about that and I already said I would stay home. Or at least if I did have to go somewhere, I’d stay completely behind the scenes. So if it’s about that…”

“It’s not about the job. That’s water under the bridge. We dealt with it. And may I add, we dealt with that very well. EXTREMELY well. You didn’t get worked up and we didn’t fight and that’s a big thing for us. A huge thing. And that’s a REALLY nice change; it shows we’re a lot stronger now.”

“So if it’s not about the job…”

“I need you to promise. That you won’t get upset. That you won’t get defensive even though it might seem like you need to be.”

“I promise. I’ll keep my shit together.”

“Second, I need you to know that I love you. More than I ever thought I could love someone. And you ARE the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Hands down. You’re an amazing husband and an even more amazing father and I couldn’t have asked for a better dad for my kids. And I appreciate you so much. Everything you do for us. For our family. How you care for us and provide for us and…”

“As nice as it is to hear all this, you’re rambling. And while I normally find that cute, it’s actually really unnerving right now. So maybe just spit it out? What’s going on? Why are you so edge? What’s got you all worked up?”

“Okay. I’m just going to ask and hope for the best. Just remember, there’s no reason to get defensive and I’m NOT accusing you of anything. It might seem like I am, but I’m not. I promise.”

“Are you going to get it out sometime today or…?”

“How friendly were you? To that neighbour the other day?”

“What neighbour?”

“The new one. The single mom. At the park. Natalie. The tall blond who looks like Sephora threw up on her face? Remember her?”

“What about her?”

“How friendly WERE you with her?”

He can’t help but laugh. “What?”

“You said you talked to her. What did you talk about?”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“There’s a reason I’m asking. I’m not just asking to ask. I knew you met her and I know you talked to her and…”

“And what? What ARE you trying to ask? Because you said I shouldn’t get defensive and it seems like maybe I should. ARE you accusing me of something?”

“No. I’m not. I am not accusing of anything. I know you, Tyler. I know your heart. I know you love me and that you’d never, EVER cheat on me. So I am not accusing you of that. I never would.”

“So then what the fuck? What do you mean how friendly was I? When have you known me to be friendly with ANYONE? Especially people I don’t know. Are you suggesting I did something? Because that is totally it, Esme. I fucked her...in the dead of winter...in public...with my son twenty feet away. Is that what you WANT to hear?”

“No! God no. And that’s not what I’m suggesting at all. I just want to know. What you talked to her about. That’s it.”

“Why? What the hell does it matter? You’re always on my ass about how I should be more social and make an effort to meet people. Now all of a sudden you’re changing your mind? ‘Cause you’re worried about some neighbour? What the hell…?”

“Hear me out, please,” she begs, and takes both of his hands in hers. “This isn’t about me being neurotic and my self esteem issues and my weirdness about other women.”

“Seriously? Because that’s EXACTLY what this is about. This happens every fucking time we go somewhere. You get all worked up because you think women are paying attention to me. Because you think all these housewives and mothers are so thirsty they’d actually give a fuck about me. You think way too highly of me.”

“Okay, first off, no I don’t. You happen to be incredibly attractive. The blue eyes? The smile? The body? The whole vibe you’ve got going on? The resting bitch face? The tattoos and the scars and the whole intimidation factor? It’s very sexy. Whether you realize it or not. And I know you can’t help it. You’re just naturally beautiful. I’m not blaming you for that. But I do have a reason. For being the way I am. For having the issues I do.”

“Yeah, your brain is fucked up. Just as much as mine is.”

“You may not see it...all the women that check you out and thirst over you...but I do. All the time. But we’re not talking about the soccer park or the school yard. We’re talking about the park. And Natalie. The pretty single mom.”

“She’s not pretty. I don’t think she’s pretty.”

“Are you blind? You must be. Your eyes must be worse than my thought.”

“She’s not pretty. Not to me. She’s not my type.”

“You don’t have a type. In fact, your type used to be anything that walked with a wiggle.”

“I’ve had a type for the last twelve and a half years. If you want to call it having a ‘type’. You. You’re the only one that matters to me. You’re the only woman that I give a shit about. You might as well be the only one that exists on the entire fucking planet. All I want is you. That’s it. So what the fuck…?”

“She showed up here today. Asking for you.”

“Who did?”

Esme sighs in exasperation. “Natalie. The neighbour.”

“She came here?”

“And asked for you. She came calling on another woman’s husband. You don’t find that at least a little bit strange? That she would do that? That she would show up on our doorstep looking for you? You don’t find that even a little weird?”

“I find it a lot weird. I don’t know why she’d come here. I wasn’t THAT nice. It was small talk. Nothing more than that. I was my usual pleasant self.”

“Well, you certainly made an impression on her. Enough that she felt comfortable coming here. And talking to your daughter AND your wife. Let me just say, her social etiquette needs some work. She’s not as charming and witty as she thinks she is. Her people skills are a tad rusty.”

“What did she want?”

“To talk to you. To give you her cookie.”

He chuckles. “Is that a code language for…?”

“No. She literally brought you cookies. That she made for you.”

“What kind of cookies?”

Esme’s eyes narrow.

“I’m kidding. That was a joke. Probably not the best time to make one, mind you.”

“Oatmeal raisin if you need to know ALL the details.”

“Worst cookie EVER. You don’t know betrayal until you bite into one thinking it’s chocolate chip and you find out it’s THAT.”

“I’m pretty sure she was also offering up HER cookie. On a silver platter.”

“And if she was? Who the fuck cares? I don’t want anything from her. I talked to her at the park. Welcomed her to the neighbourhood. That was it. Everything else is on her. If she read too much into it, that’s her problem. Not mine. I made small talk and that was it. And you know how much I hate small talk.”

“I know YOU didn’t do anything. I know you. I know who you are and what you’re like. I wasn’t suggesting that you made a move on her or led her on or anything like that. You know that, right? That I’m not accusing you of anything?”

“I know you’re not. But it does seem like you are.”

“I know. And I don’t mean for it to sound that way. It just upset me. Her showing up here. Asking for you. That is so many shades of wrong. Why would someone do that?”

“Why would a man follow someone’s wife home from the post office? Someone’s noticeably pregnant wife.”

“That’s NOT the same thing.”

“You’re right. It’s not. It’s worse. You were pregnant with my kid. You told him you were married. And he still followed you home.”

“And you took care of it. You scared the shit out of him. Knocked him on his ass. All’s well that ends well.”

“Doesn’t mean I liked it. The fact some fucking asshole followed my wife home. You say I don’t notice things? How come you never notice all the men that pay attention to you? I notice it. Why don’t you?”

“It doesn’t happen that often.”

“It happens all the fucking time. And some of them are actually brave enough to be right out there with it. That takes a lot of balls; being that bold in front of someone’s husband. You think I like THAT? When men check you out?”

“You never say anything. You never act like it’s bothering you. If it does, why don’t you just say something?”

“Because I trust you. Because I’m secure. When it comes to knowing how you feel about me. I don’t see these guys as competition. A pain in the ass. But not competition.”

“That’s because they’re not. I don’t give a shit about any of them. I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I am perfectly happy with you. I love the way things are. With you. None of them matter to me.”

“Then why does it bother you what other women do? Why does it bother you so much? You don’t trust me?”

“What? No. I do. I DO trust you. You are not the problem. They are.”

“That doesn’t make ANY sense. How can they be a problem when I won’t let them be? I don’t give a fuck about any of them. How can they cause issues if I won’t let them? What do you think they’re going to do, Me? You can’t steal someone away unless they WANT to be. And you know what? As much as you drive me fucking insane, I am perfectly happy where I am. With who I have.”

“You don’t know what it’s like. Being around that. Those women. You don’t…”

“I DO know what it’s like. Guys check you out all the time. Do you see me going all neurotic about it?”

“Well, being neurotic IS my thing,” she sheepishly admits.

“This needs to stop. You being like this. It has been twelve and a half years of this, Me. And it’s tiring. I love you. And I have to tell you until my very last breath that I love you and I don’t want anyone else, I’ll do it. But it doesn’t mean it it doesn’t grate on my fucking nerves.”

“You knew I was like this. You knew my issues. Going into things. If they pissed you off THAT bad…”

“They don’t piss me off. Is it annoying, yes? Can I live with it? Also a yes. I will put up with it. Until my dying day. Because I love you. But I would give anything to put an end to it.”

“I can’t help it. Being like this. I’m not you, Tyler. You’re secure and you’re confident and you’re able to just ignore other men.”

“Because I trust you.”

“And I trust YOU. You are NOT the problem. And I know it doesn’t make any sense to you. Me worrying about other women when I know for a fact you’d never cheat on me. But I do. Worry about them.”

“Why? Tell me why you worry about them? What do you think they’re going to do, Esme? Tell me. What do you think is going to happen?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“That is NOT an acceptable answer for anyone over six. Try again.”

“I honestly don’t know. I don’t know what I’m thinking. But you don’t hear what they say. The women at the soccer park on the school yard. I do. I hear it. I hear them talking about how ugly and plain and boring looking I am and how they can’t understand why someone like you would be with someone like me,” she struggles to hold back a threatening flood of tears. “They don’t hide it, Tyler. They don’t talk about these things in secret. They make sure I hear it. And you know what? It hurts. A lot. And if I tell you something hurts me, you don’t have the right to tell me it doesn’t.”

“I’m not doing that, babe. I’m not saying it shouldn’t hurt you. And I’m sorry. That it does. That you hear stuff like that.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault. You can’t help what they say.”

“Do you want me to say something? To them? The next time I pick the kids up? Because I will. I’m not shy when it comes to telling people off. You know that. And when it comes to protecting you…”

“It would just make things worse. I can just hear them now. Talking about what a cry baby I am and how you deserve a real woman. Don’t say anything. It’ll just set them off. Things are bad enough as they are.”

“Why don’t you tell them to fuck off? You usually don’t back away from shit like that.”

“Because that’s our kids’ school and we’ve been on the principal’s shit list before and I don’t want to make things hard on our kids. But it does bother me. Hearing that stuff. And it DOES hurt.”

“But it shouldn’t. That’s what I’m saying. Just let go in one ear and out the other. Who gives a fuck what they think? What does it matter? I love you. I have always loved you. I always WILL love you. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Isn’t that enough? What I think? Why isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t know. I want it to be. And I know it should be. I know you love me. I’ve never doubted that. Not even during those six months. Even then, I knew you did. You just needed to get your shit together. I don’t know why it bothers me so much. I don’t why I’m like this. Why I can’t get past it. I think I’m getting better and then something happens and it’s back to square one.”

“Your mom fucked you up. So did Mark. You went through a lot of shit. Especially with him. But I’m not Mark, Esme.”

“I know. I know you’re not.”

“Do you? Because sometimes I’m not sure you do.”

The tears come freely now; body trembling with the force of the emotions that accompany them. And he places a hand on the back of her neck and pulls her into him; a forearm across the small of her back as her body presses tightly against his and her arms immediately circle his neck.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs against his shoulder. “I never meant to make you feel that way. Like I was comparing you to him.”

“I know.” One hand repeatedly strokes his hair, the other settling at the small of her back. “I know you didn’t.”

“Because you’re NOT him. You’re nothing like him. And I’ve never thought you are. I’m sorry, Tyler. For making you that feel that way. I never meant it.”

“I know you didn’t. It’s okay, Me. He fucked you up. Badly. I’m just the guy that came after. The one that has to try and clean up his mess. And if it takes the rest of my life to do that? Then I’ll deal with it. I can’t make it better. I can’t take it all away; make it like it never happened. I wish I could.”

“I don’t want to be this way. I don’t want to be crazy and neurotic and a freaking mess.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, you’re a beautiful mess.”

She manages a small laugh. “I don’t know what to do. To make this better. To make ME better. And it’s not fair to you. To have to deal with this shit.”

“I’ve brought more shit to the table than you have. And you’ve always dealt with it. I figure it’s the least I can do. Put up with your crap.”

“I don’t want to be like this. I can’t live like this for the rest of my life. I just can’t. But I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to fix me. And it shouldn’t be up to you to do it.”

“You’re my wife. You’re the mother of my kids. I love you. It’s what we do. Help each other. Fix one another. You’re not in this by yourself.” He presses a kiss to her temple and tightens his hold on her. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out. We’ll get you past all this.”

“What if we can’t? What if it CAN’T be fixed?”

“Then we live it. I spent the rest of my life constantly reassuring you that I’m not going anywhere. That I love you and think you’re the most beautiful in the world. If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it. I’ll take one for the team.”

“You’re so generous,” she chides. “Always so willing to sacrifice yourself.”

“Well, we do crazy shit for love. When we get home, you should go and talk to Doctor Klein. Tell him what’s going on. How you’ve been feeling. If anyone can figure shit out, it’s him.”

“You’ll come with me, right? I think you should. Come with me.”

“You know I will. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

She pulls away to look at him, sitting back at her heels. “Nothing?”

“Nothing,” he declares, and lays his hands on the sides of her face and uses his thumbs to wipe away the lingering tears.

“I know all snotty nose and puffy eyed isn’t my best look, but maybe we could have sex now?”

He grins. “Maybe. Would it make you feel better?”

She nods. “Being worshipped ALWAYS makes me feel better.”

“What can I say? I’m always willing to cheer you up. Besides, your body’s a temple, babe. It deserves to be worshipped.”

“It’s a temple, alright. Ancient and crumbling. Probably haunted.”

“It’s beautiful,” his hands move to the front of the plaid shirt she wears; enormous and baggy on her tiny frame. “And sexy.”

“Even after seven kids?”

His fingers tend to opening the buttons on the shirt. “ESPECIALLY after seven kids.”

“You always have the right thing to say. Your sweet talking is improving.”

“I thought you preferred dirty talk?”

“I do. Dirty talk is my favourite. Especially YOUR dirty talk. That voice? That accent? I’m wet just thinking about it.”

“Yeah?” With a playful smirk, he forcibly shoves her onto her back; a palm on either side of her head as outstretched arms brace his much heavier and bulkier frame. “In that case, shut up and let me fuck you.”

[betterthebest]

Here We Go Again | An MJF Fanfiction

Status: *Not requested* Description: Bella was a teen wrestler working in the Indy circuit until an injury cost her her short career. She and MJF were friends turned lovers, turned strangers and friends again. What happens when she joins AEW to lead a faction with her ex? Will their history jeopardize their rekindled friendship?

A/N: This is an alternate universe (no covid :p) where MJF didn’t earn a spot in the inner circle. Hope you all enjoy my original story!

See also: (Part 1) ___________________________________________

Part 2 October 2020

Max called me out of the blue almost four years to the day we broke up. “I’m coming over, I have a plan.” He hung up before I could say anything. He came over with a plan, a contract, and Tony Khan. “You’re coming to AEW and we’re creating a faction,” Max grinned. “Wait, what?” I looked at him like he was crazy. This was the last thing that I thought would ever happen. “You heard me,” he held out a contract. I took the piece of paper in my hands and looked over at Tony. “Is this a prank?”  He laughed. “In two weeks, you’re coming out to Jacksonville. Put in your two weeks if you have a job” Tony said firmly. All three of us went over the plan. Being the leader of the faction is what convinced me to come back. I was apprehensive only cause I wouldn’t be able to wrestle. I went to work that night and did as Tony said. The next day Max came back to my house and we wrote out a promo. I had a talent for writing and any time I wrote a promo for myself, people loved it. I only did a few promos during my career since I’ve only been in one major company. We went over what I wrote three times that day. 

I had to rehearse for a few days at least to memorize. Two weeks passed and on that Monday, Max and I flew out to Florida. I ended up meeting with everyone I used to work with and it felt amazing. It was like time didn’t even pass with some of them. I ended up staying with Britt and Austin at their place. I didn’t want to intrude on them, but they both insisted I stay instead of paying for hotels. They were always the type of friends I could count on for anything. When Wednesday came, Britt and I drove to the arena. I prepared for the show by saying my promo to Britt to get her opinion. She loved it and said she was excited to hear it tonight. I dressed in black leggings and a black cropped long sleeve shirt. I changed out of my sneakers and borrowed black booties from Anna Jay in the locker room. She suggested I wear them. She’s the type of person that made anyone feel like a close friend. We talked by catering as the show went on. Later that night I met up with Max in the hallway before his match with Jericho. “You ready?” He said excitedly, trying to hype me up.  “I’m nervous, but I’m ready.” Millions of people were about to watch me live. The most I’ve talked to was an auditorium of 85 people. “You got this. Just focus on me, okay.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. He knew more than anyone that my anxiety could get the best of me. I nodded with a smile. “Oh and wear this.” He took a necklace out of his sweatpants pocket. It was the necklace he gave me for our six month anniversary. It had a single diamond on the chain. “You kept it.” I gave it back to him after we broke up. I wore it throughout our relationship, never taking it off until the day we broke up. “I did and I want you to have it back. I know we’re not together anymore, but you are my best friend.” I smiled a those words. He was still my best friend too and to hear him say that, made me so happy. I took the necklace from his hands and put it around my neck. “Looks great” Max said. He had to get ready to go to gorilla. He slipped his sweatpants off and tossed them onto a crate. “See you in 20 minutes,” he winked. I let out a chuckle and watched him walk away. I watched the match on a monitor in the back with a bunch of other people. My cue came when Max was about to hit his finisher. My music from 2016 played through the speakers. No one would recognize it besides Max which was the point. Max was distracted which caused him to lose. I stood on the ramp, arms across my chest. I got a mic from a stage hand. “Hi Maxwell, my love. Surprised to see me?” I paused, smirking. “You know, when I broke your heart...I felt nothing.” I chuckled. We wanted to pretend like our breakup was pure drama. I wanted to be seen just as heartless as his character is portrayed. “But now, looking at you in the ring, you look pathetic. I’m feeling very sorry” I said sarcastically. He stood up, Wardlow holding him up. “I have a proposition for you Maxwell.” I took small steps toward him. With my free hand I pushed my long black hair to my back. “I know you want to join a stable. We’ve worked so well together since we were 16.” I placed my hand over my heart. “Join me Maxwell, we’ll assemble a great team. Be my right hand man, what do you say?” He got a microphone. He pulled away from Wardlow and stepped outside the ropes, a couple feet from me. He leaned on the ropes before gaining his footing and takin a few steps forward. “On one condition.” He held up his finger. I nodded firmly. “We’re 50/50. You don’t control me, and I don’t control you. We both have a say in who is worthy to join. Deal?” He raised his brow at me waiting for my answer. I paused for a moment before answering. “50/50 you say?” He nodded and said yeah, but not into the mic. “You’ve got yourself a deal!” He smirked, “and Bella... Don’t interrupt my match again.” He was now inches from my face, bending slightly to look in my eyes. “You don’t control me,” I smirked. He nodded his head with a smirk of his own. Our foreheads touched. All of a sudden he grabbed the back of my head and went in for a kiss, but faked me out. I didn’t even pucker my lips. I was surprised since we didn’t go over that in our script. He walked away, laughing. Wardlow followed close behind. I turned and watched as he went up the ramp. The camera was behind me, closing in on the shot as that show faded to black. 

Once it ended, I went backstage running into Max’s arms. The adrenaline rush felt amazing. “That was awesome, I feel so alive.” He picked me up, spun me then put me back down on my feet.  “You were so good. I’m proud of you for getting back in the game.” “All thanks to you.” I smiled. We stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime. That faded when I heard Tony’s voice behind me. “Miss promo, that was great!” I turned around to see him and Cody.  “Glad you’re here” Cody shook my head. I had to control myself not to absolutely fangirl over him. I used to have a crush on Cody when I was 11. “Thank you. it felt amazing to finally do it after all my practice.” “I’m excited to see what you come up with next week,” Cody said and Tony nodded in agreement. Max put his arm around me, “she has a lot of ideas.” I looked up at him and smiled. He always knew how to make me feel important. He would go out of his way to lift my spirits whenever he could. And for the next few days Tony, Max and I consulted on the weeks to follow. Right now I have a year contract, but if all goes well I can sign more. I wanted that to happen for sure. I didn’t know what else I could do once this was over, but I tried not to think about it. I had to take it a week at a time and next week, I wanted to do something fun for the promo. I planned to find three pictures of Max and I when we were younger. One when we trained, one as close friends, and the last one during our relationship. “He’ll probably kill me, but it’s worth it,” I told Britt. I found the pictures on my phone in a backup folder from my old phones. I deleted a lot off of social media when we broke up. I deleted most of my wrestling pictures in a fit of rage one night. That was one of my regrets in life. It may seem small, but when wrestling is your life, it’s important.  I went back home to New York that Thursday night. Max drove me home where I still live with my family. “Wanna come in?” I asked Max before getting in the car. "Your food will get cold before you reach Long Island.” We picked up dinner on the way back. He laughed, “you’ve convinced me.” We got out of the car and got in the house through my separate entrance. We started eating right away, silence fell over us. He looked over at me when he finished. “Bold question,” he said out of the blue. “Go ahead,” I finished chewing my food. He never asked when he had a bold question, so this was odd.  “If we were to, you know, would that ruin things?” I swallowed hard. “Um, well it hasn’t ruined things before. We used to, you know at least once a week.” Max chuckled, “fair enough... But then again it took some years.” “But not because of that.” “Right, right.” We sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Wanna do it?” He shrugged.  My eyes widened, “right now?” Max nodded, “I mean, we can wait.” “Sorry, I’m just shocked.” I let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind,” I said softly.  “Are you sure?” “Let’s go,” I stood up. Max stood, his eyes widened this time. “Really?” I walked towards my bed and sat on the edge. “You coming Friedman?” I don’t know what I was thinking. Is this a good idea? Probably not, but I wasn’t thinking with my brain. He most likely wasn’t either. He came over to me and took off his shirt. Seeing him with no shirt and sweats on did things to me. He reached out and grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. “I don’t have abs anymore,” I said softly. He ran his hands up and down my sides, “still perfect.” He bent his head and brushed his lips against mine before locking them together. It felt nice to kiss him again. His arms wrapped around my body and he lifted me a little to push me back on the bed. He broke the kiss, “I missed that.” “Me too,” I smiled. That night was amazing. Memories flooded back. It was like we hadn’t missed a beat. Our bodies just molded together perfectly. We laid in bed, wrapped in blankets. Max held me close, his body heat radiating off on me. He would kiss my shoulder randomly from time to time. I always loved when he did that. “That felt great,” he said for the third time causing me to giggle. “It really did.” He spent the night with me. We went again before falling asleep. I fell asleep right away while in his arms. I will never forget that night.

[victorias16]

Authors note: Hi! At first I have to apologize for all mistakes. English is my second language but I wanna try to write something. Probably noone ever read this but I public this just for me and for fun!

Feyre pov

I wake up in the morning and run to the toilet becouse I felt sick. Something wasn't right. That was third day and I still was sick but high fea doesn' t get sick juat like that. Just in moment when I vomited to the toilet Rhys run into the bathroom and to hold my hair.

"It's gonna be okey, darling" he said trying to calm me down when I started to sob.

"I don't know what is wrong with me" I menadge to said before the next nusea spelt into me and I vomited again.

"I am gonna call to Madja. When she exeminate you We are going to now how help you". Rhys was telling me this since my sickness first came but I doesn't wanted that.

"We should wait. It is probably nothing." I also was telling that every day but when I looked at him I already known that this time I can't get out of it.

"No. Madja is going to be here at the morning. High Fea dosen't get sick just like that. I am worried about you, darling".

"Okay. But this is probably nothing." I gave up becouse I have no strong to continue this fight. "I am really tired. Can we go back to sleep, please?" I said when Rhys gave me a glass of water and I drinked it. "Of course darling". He helped me to get to the bed and when my head touch pillow I already was asleep.

------

I wake up and run to the bathroom again. I wa feeling awful and I started crying for no reason. Rhys was on my side holding my hair again.

" How are you feeling?"

"Awful."

He kissed my hair and said "Everything is gonna be okay. Madja is going to help you. You are going to be okey, darling".

"I am going to be okey even if you don' t call to Madja. I am fine." I lied becouse I don' t want Madja to said me that everything is okey and I am overreacting.

"You are not Okey. Let me and Madja to help you. Even if everything is okey Madja can help us understand what is going on with you." He said giving me a glass of water and helping me get up. " I am going to Madja right now. I will be right back."

"I don' t need this. I said you I am fine. See?" I said getting up from bed and I feel my head spinning. The last thing I felt was Rhys catching me. Than was only darkness.

----

When I wake up I was laying on my bed and heard Madja and Rhys talking but I can't understand anything. I try to sit but my head start spinning again.

"Careful, my love" said Rhys and help me sit on the bed. He was smiling.

" What is going on? Why are you smiling?" I asked him.

" You are pregnant my love."

" What? Are you sure?" I asked scared

"Yes I am sure"  Madja said "I examinate you and you are 11 weeks pregnant, congratulations my Lady"

When I heard that I don' t now what I felt. I was happy, worried, excited and terrifade at the same time. I don' t know when I start crying but I felt tears on my cheek and Rhys fingers when he wipe the tears away.

"Everything is going to be okay, darling. You and our child are okey. Don't cry" He said trying to calm me down.

"It's okay how you feel right now my lady. This is big news. You need so time and rest. When you will be ready to ask me questions just call me." Madja said when she was packing her things.

"Thank you Madja" I said with tears

"You are walcome my Lady'' she said when she left the room.

When she left Rhys kissed my tample and asked "Are you okey my love?"

"Yes I am just surprised. That's all" I menage to said. My thoughts was running and I couldn't said anything else. We where trying for this child for a very long time by now. We started trying right after a war. That was 50 years ago. I started thinking that I can't have children and something is wrong with me and now when this finally happend I didn't know what to do with myself.

"That finally happened" I said when I put my thoughts together.

"Yes. We are gonna to be parents darling" he said and I heard tears in his voice as well.

"Our live is going to change and nothing is going to be like it was" I said worried that we can't menage this.

" I know but this is a good change and I am overjoyed. I can't wait to meet this little one." He said woth calm voice when he saw what I am thinking about "We are going to be great parents. This child will be loved by everyone in inner circle. Our friends will help us like always. I love you and I love this child."

I didn't know what to said. I know that this is true. Cassian and Nesta had their child-a little girl named Ann almost 10 years ago but the fea child grow slower ang she was like 3 years old in human age. Azriel and Elain had already two children. August was 12 years old and their little girl Cecily  was 1 year old. I loved this child by my all heart and I spend almost all the time with them. Their was my only contact with children in my life but I known that I and Rhys will be a good parents for our child.

---

*Next day*

After morning which I spent vomiting to toilet I was really tired. I was lying in bed and trying to sleep when Rhys came back to home after He has to went to Illyrian Mountian to help Cassian.

"How are you doing?" He asked when he walk to me and sit on the edge of bed.

"Bad." I doesn't want to talk to anyone. I was to tired to do so.

"Do you ate anything today?" He asked worried

"No. And I don't want to" I said with anger. I was to tired for this talk and I was frustated by how I was feeling. "I am sorry. I didn't want to jump at you. I am just tired"

"It is okey Feyre darling" He said sighing "And I am just worried about you and baby. You should eat. Baby needs this. You need this."

"Eating is doing nothing when I vomiting everything after I ate."

"I know this is hard darling. I really want to help you but I can't" He said. I could feel worried in his voice. "Did you take madicanes from Madja in morning?"

"Yeah, but they aren't helping at all" I said with tears. Really morning sickness wasn't enough? I have to deal with hormones to?

"Shhh, darling everything will be okey. We just need to wait and this is going to end. " He tried to calm me down but I still was emoutional mess. " I will go for food for you. You need to eat, darling"

"I don't want to. I am gonna to feel nuseus all day when I eat anything" I said mad

"You already are nuseus all day. You have to eat for baby and for you. Just try eat anything." He said worried and when I heard this in his voise I stopped arguing. I know that he try best to help me but he can't and I doesn't want to worried him anymore.  He gone to get me food and I was trying to get my emotions under control. He came back with sandwitches and tea and He helped me sit on the bed. I ate and lie down in bed. I fall asleep in few seconds.

--

Rhysand Pov

I have never been so nervous before. I hate when Feyre is feeling bad and I can't do anything to help her. I forced myself to get up from her and I went to office to do some work. When I saw all documents to read and anserw to them I started thinking about getting assistant for that. That was always my work but when Feyre accepted mating bond she took some work for her and now I can't think how I ever could have done this alone.

After an hour I heard someone entering house and I left my office to see Cassian and Ann in my door.

"Hey what are you doing here?" I asked and started helping Ann with her clothes.

"Can't I just visit my friend and his wife?" Cassian asked coming into living room "Where is she?"

"She had hard morning and she is sleeping right now." I said without thinking. No one know about pregnancy yet and I could just said to much "She has been working all nigdt and morning" I add quickly but Cass look at me weird.

"Okey then." Cassian said but something was definitly wrong in his voice

"What is wrong Cass?" I asked carefully

"Ann why doesn't you go play toys?" Cassian asked his daughter. When she was gone with toys He said "I think that Illyrians are planing a rebellion"

"What?" I asked paniced. Why now? Why now when I am waiting dor my child and my wife is pregnant? Can't we have peace when we need this so much? "What make you thinked that" I asked trying to get my voice back.

"I heard talking Illyrians about this and I thinked you should know about that but maybe this is nothing. Just some rummors." He said but I known that he isn't telling me everything.

"This is not everything, is it?" I looked at him but he was looking at Ann worried. I knew what he is thinking about. He has to much to loose if rebellious is real. His mate and his child couldn't loose him.  "You don't wanna be general anymore, right?"

"What makes you thinked that?" He said

"I am not blind or stupid. You have your mate and child. You don't wanna risk that"

"Yeah but I still wanna be your general. You and Azriel have your family too. I just have to be more careful about what I am doing." He said " And I wanna beat the danger for my doughter safe world."  

"We all have things to fight for. We heve to get more information about what is going on. I will asked Azriel to spy for me again." I sighed "I need a drink and you probably too"

"I have to take care of Ann" He sighed

"Having child complicade everything?" I asked worried

"No. It makes everything diffrent but it is wonderful."

[horansqueen]

You & Me : chapter 46

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34 || CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39 || CHAPTER 40 || CHAPTER 41 || CHAPTER 42 || CHAPTER 43 || CHAPTER 44 || CHAPTER 45

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his -4.3k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

READ AM CONVERSATIONS AGAIN ON WATTPAD HERE

- notes: super nervous, only one last filler chapter and then the conclusion of the story (in 3 chapters). im stressed lol! if youre still here after all this time, I LOVE YOU!

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : here arethe 2 requests i used! THANK YOU SO MUCH! (sorry its not really surprise birthday sex? but its a surprise... and its birthday sex lol!)

TAKE A LOOK AT THE CHARACTERS HERE

Chapter 46 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

September 13th, 2018

"Are you sure you want to go out tonight?" my boyfriend asked as I tried to do something with my hair. "It's my only day off, I have a show tomorrow, I shouldn't be up too late."

"Of course I'm sure!" I argued with a frown, staring at him back from the mirror's reflection. "It's your birthday, you deserve a least a few pints. Besides, since when are you so reasonable?"

I bent closer to the mirror to put on lipstick and he appeared next to me, making me smile immediately. We had been through so much together, and I couldn't pretend the past few years haven't felt like roller coasters, but at the same time, my life would be so different without him. Obviously, we could have just stayed best friends, and perhaps, right now I would be dating someone I never even met, but no matter who it would have been, I knew it wouldn't have been my soulmate. Because my soulmate was staring right back at me through that mirror and everything made sense when he was near.

"I would be perfectly fine with you and I, staying here all night, completely naked, and calling room service." he pointed out, slipping his arms around me from behind and kissing my neck.

I felt a shiver run up my spine and my lips curled again.

"Oh you mean a day that ends with a 'Y'?" I half-joked as we both chuckled. "Seriously, when did you become an old man?"

He pulled away slightly to look at me and I turned my head, my eyes finding his. He was frowning with a smile and it made me smile too.

"Have we met?" he asked, raising his eyebrows before letting go of me with one of his arms and extending his hand to me. "Niall Horan, the oldest soul you'll ever meet. Nice to meet you, beautiful."

I laughed a bit and turned his way, cupping his face and running my thumbs on his cheeks. "Nice to meet you, Niall Horan. I'm Olivia Fontaine, your soulmate."

He moved closer and his lips curled into a fond smile. "Oh I know." he whispered before pressed his lips against mine.

I felt something stir in my chest and he deepened the kiss, making me whimper low in his mouth. "Niall..."

"Mm, how about we get naked for half an hour before we actually get a few pints?"

I chuckled against his mouth and shook my head, my lips still attached to his. "Mm, no, or else we'll just stay in this hotel room all night, and you know it."

He groaned and I chuckled again, taking a step back.

"Come on, let me get my dick wet, pet."

My eyes got bigger and my jaw dropped before I chuckled. "No! We're going out!"

He sighed with a smile and finally shrugged, giving in. "Fine, darling."

I hurried to get ready so he wouldn't change his mind again and we decided to take a cab to make sure we could both drink. I was a bit nervous and I kept looking at my watch and when we got there, he paid and I got out of the taxi before he grabbed my wrist gently.

"Hey, are you okay?" his tone was soft and I could hear concern in his voice. It made me tilt my head and smile.

"I'm okay, don't worry."

Without thinking, I grabbed his hand and pulled him inside as my eyes roamed around. My lips curled when my eyes found Louis and I suddenly felt relieved. He was smiling so I was probably not too late. I noticed everyone getting up and heard my boyfriend curse next to me but he didn't have time to say anything. They all started yelling a loud "SURPRISE!" as they raised their drinks up. I let my head fall back on my shoulders with a sigh and chuckled as all the anxiety left my body.

"Fucking finally!" I let out, squeezing my boyfriend's hand before letting him go as he laughed and thanked everyone, shaking hands and kissing cheeks.

I let myself fall next to Louis who just laughed and when I turned to him, he was looking at me with amused eyes.

"What, love?"

"It was not easy, he kept saying he wanted to stay home and fuck!" I argued, shaking my head a bit. "I'm not built to resist a good fuck from someone so sexy!"

"You need to tell your cute little cunt that it needs a break from time to time."

I laughed and hit his arm, making him laugh too. "Don't talk about my intimate body parts, please."

"Your genitals are no secret for me, my queen." he laughed again, making me grimace and groan low.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." I mumbled before I felt a hand on top of mine.

"Me too." my boyfriend replied as I raised my nose up.

"Neil, your girlfriend was just telling me that you're sexually obsessed with her."

"LOUIS!" I let out as I heard my boyfriend start laughing.

"It's okay though," Louis added, ignoring me. "She added that she's just as obsessed with you anyway."

They both laughed and I rolled my eyes with a small smile. They started chatting and catching up and after a while, Niall got up to go talk with Julia. I leaned my chin on the palm of my hand, holding myself with my elbow on the table, and I just stared shamelessly at Niall who was now laughing with his friend, bringing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to kiss the top of her head. I was not even jealous. If I had seen that two years ago, I would probably have cried, but at this exact moment, with Niall's friends around the table all gathered together for his birthday, I realized that all of this was real, and it was meant to last. It was totally different than the first time. I trusted him now, and it was easy to trust him because he had changed, and so did I. He had proved to me that he really sincerely loved me and I was pretty sure I had proved that I wouldn't throw tantrums at him the way I used to. I remember thinking it was not easy to date Niall, and perhaps I even told him at some point but now? Now it was easy and it felt natural. It was meant to be.

"I'm happy that you're happy." I heard Louis whisper near my ear. "No one deserves it more than you."

I turned to look in his eyes, my chin still leaned against my hand. "I know someone who does. You."

After a few hours, everyone was getting drunk and when Niall sat back next to me, he leaned his arm on the back of my chair and moved closer. My lips curled more and I bit my bottom lip as I felt the warmth of his body emanate on mine.

"I still want you, you know." he let out probably a bit louder than he intended.

"Yea?" I asked, turning my head slightly to look at him with an amused smile.

"Mmhm, but we've already had sex in a bar." he pointed out with a cute grimace.

"Nee, we've had sex almost everywhere." I explained with a chuckle as he smirked at me.

"Nop, we never had sex on top of a table." he said but cut me as I opened my mouth to argue. "In a bar, I mean."

"And it's not gonna happen."

He leaned closer and brushed his lips against my jaw and down my neck as his hand reached for my thigh. My heart skipped a beat and I held my breath as my eyes fluttered. No one else had that effect on me. Even when we were kids, I'd feel all warm inside whenever he'd touch me. It's just some sort of connection I couldn't explain, like his skin against mine created an electric reaction that made me euphoric. It was not only sexual, it was way more than that, way deeper, and way more meaningful.

"You know everyone would fucking enjoy the show, right?"

I chuckled again. "That would scar them for life! Remember when Louis caught us having sex while we were camping?"

Niall groaned, leaving a few kisses under my ear. "Louis is weak."

I chuckled and turned my head enough to reach his mouth with mine. "Too bad we didn't drive here and that we don't have a car, we could just get in to fuck and come back."

He pulled away and stared in my eyes a few seconds before the left corner of his lips moved up. I raised my eyebrows, wondering what he was thinking about and when he talked, it took me a few seconds to realize he was not talking to me, even if he was still staring right in my eyes.

"Give me the keys to your car, Louis."

"What?"

"Mm, Niall, they all took a flight to get here, no one has a car." I pointed out, a bit distracted by how pretty he was.

This time, he looked away from me, probably to look at my best friend, but all I could focus on was the vein in his neck popping up. It made me want to run my tongue on it, and maybe nibble on his skin, too.

"I'm serious, Tommo." he insisted. "It's my birthday, let me borrow your car for twenty minutes."

I had no idea how long it took for Louis to agree but when Niall turned back to me with a bigger smirk, it made my inner thighs start throbbing. He bent closer, his lips almost touching mine, and I held my breath.

"Join me in five minutes."

He got up quickly and as soon as he left, I felt Louis grab my arm gently. "Please, take care okay? I rented this car, I don't want any trouble."

"Are you spending some time here?" I just asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Yea, El is supposed to join me tomorrow."

I licked my lips and laughed a little. "And you say I'm obsessed with my boyfriend? Look at you!"

He chuckled too and shook his head. "Yea well, I won't deny it." he replied with a smile. "You should go, your boyfriend is waiting for you."

I smiled back and jumped on my feet, almost running to the front door. I was a bit tipsy and not very subtle but when I saw Niall leaning against a black car, I tilted my head and stopped a few feet away from him.

"Come on, petal." he said with a quick head movement. "That's what you get for not letting me get my dick wet earlier."

I laughed more and took a few steps his way, getting slowly closer to him. He moved slightly away from the car and looked down at me. We were very close to each other but we didn't touch and I licked my lips, tilting my chin up.

"It's your birthday. Tell me what you want."

It only took half a second for his lips to curl into a smirk and he raised his eyebrows at me, his gaze never leaving mine. I could feel my whole body throb in anticipation but all I really wanted was to please him.

"I want you to ride me. Just you, moving on top of me, your tits in my face, and my dick balls deep inside your cunt."

"That... can be arranged."

Quickly, he opened the door and sat behind the wheel and i rushed on the other side of the car to sit on the passengers seat. Niall started the car and it made me frown but I decided to focus on taking off my pants and panties, leaving them on the floor and finally smiled when I realized he went to park a little further.

"You're not supposed to drive." I pointed out, leaning near him to work on his pants. "Take the keys off and lean the seat a bit.”

He did as I asked and I tried to get on top of him to straddle him, hitting my head on the roof and making him laugh. It took me longer than I thought to actually sit on him and when I did, he was smiling at me, clearly amused. His hands reached for my thighs and I felt his thumbs brush gently on my skin.

"You're fucking adorable, you know that, right?"

I raised my nose up, slightly annoyed, and shrugged. "I don't want to be adorable right now, I want to make you hard."

"Come on, petal. Watching you do everything you can to make my birthday perfect is adorable. You being all clumsy is cute. And the fact that you're actually wetting my thighs right now is hot. They're not mutually exclusive." he explained, his palms running up my thighs. "You make me hard, petal. But I'm also drowning in all the love I have for you. Is that wrong?"

My traits softened and despite myself, I sighed and tilted my head, shaking it lightly. "No, of course not." I admitted in a whisper. "In fact, it's perfect."

"Mm, just like that little cunt of yours." he groaned, moving one of his hands between my legs and pressing his thumb on my clit. I stiffened and whimpered low, making him smile. "Come on, love. Take your shirt off."

I did as he asked and he brought his free hand on one of my breasts, kissing the parts he could see right up my bra as his thumb kept rubbing slowly and gently between my legs. I looked down, trying to see his lips brushing on me and sucking and biting on my skin, leaving tiny red marks. One of my hands moved to his head, my fingers slipping in his hair, and the other moved one of my bra straps down. He did the same with the other, exposing my breasts to him and his mouth found one of my nipples immediately. Instinctively, I ground down against him and my eyes fluttered close.

"Is that really what you want?" I asked in a breath. "A slow fuck outside in a car?"

"Mm no." he confessed, both his hands moving around me to unclasp my bra. "We have about 10 minutes."

I laughed a bit and moved on my knees, leaning slightly his way to make sure my head wouldn't hit the top of the car again, and finally sat on his cock. I didn't even have to hold it with my hand. For some reason, my body found his so easily and I couldn't help but think we were just part of a two-piece puzzle. I knew it was stupid, but the image seemed quite right.

"Fuck, I'll never get enough of your cock." I whispered, holding myself on his shoulders.

"I hope not!" he chuckled, his hands quickly reaching for my waist as I felt his fingers press on my skin.

I didn't wait for his instructions, I just started riding him, my hands in his hair, leaning against him, once again scared my head would hit the roof of the car. I heard him groan again as his hands slid to my ass and he gripped both cheeks hard, making me quiver slightly.

"That's exactly what I wanted, pet. You riding me and your tits in my face." he admitted, making me smile and bite my bottom lip. "Perfect birthday gift."

I felt his lips brush on my breasts and nipples, making them hard and making me whimper more. I started moving quicker over him, my clit rubbing harder on his lower stomach and my grip in his hair getting tighter. I was already so close and by the way he was holding my waist, I knew he was too.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

I gripped his hair tighter at his words and moaned loud when I felt his teeth in one of my breasts. My body started shaking over him and he pushed me down hard on his dick, moving his hips up to feel himself as deep as he could. I felt an orgasm invade my whole body, from my head to my toes, and when I came down from my high, Niall wrapped his arms around me and held me against him.

"Mm, best birthday ever."

I laughed and moved slightly away to look at him but his eyes fell on my breasts immediately. "You only say that because you're in your post-orgasm state."

"I say that because it's my birthday and the girl I'm in love with just rode me until I came inside her." he explained, looking up at me as I felt his hands reach for my breasts. "Can't think of a better way to spend my birthday."

I smiled and bent down to kiss him again, enjoying the way his mouth tasted. "I'm in love with you too."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, a bit worried, as his thumb brushed gently on the spot he bit on my breast.

"No, I loved it. It'll be sensitive for a few days, and every time I touch it, It'll remind me of right now."

He smiled against my lips and I did too. At this point, If someone had told me that my life would get even better than it was, I wouldn't have believed it. It was already perfect.

"Good, then how about we try the backseat, now?"

I laughed slightly. "Your friends are going to start wondering where you are."

"Let them."

                                                    ---

We both had a headache when we woke up the next morning but Niall's was definitely worse than mine. He still managed to smile and hug me so I knew it could definitely be worse. We were leaving soon since he had a show in an other state on the same night but stopped in a cafe. Niall groaned a bit when he noticed how long the line was and brought his hand to his forehead, massaging gently his skin as if it would help take the pain away. I tilted my chin up and licked my lips, not really sure he was actually looking at me because of his sunglasses, but his hands reached my waist and I sent him a small smile.

"Would you rather wait outside?" I proposed. "Get some fresh air maybe? I can wait in line, I don't mind."

He shook his head and moved his face down, making my lips curl more. I always liked when he pecked my lips gently and It made me close my eyes.

"No it's okay, I'd rather stay." he whispered. "If only to show you how grateful I am for the birthday sex."

I laughed against his lips and we remained mostly silent until we ordered our coffee. He groaned as we were about to get out and finally sighed.

"I need to go to the bathroom okay? I'll join you outside."

I nodded and took his cup from his hands before to step foot outside. It was a warm day and I just closed my eyes, trying to feel the sun on my face until I heard a familiar sound that immediately made my heart skip a beat.

"Hey, Liv, are you with Niall?"

I felt myself cringe despite myself, knowing some pap had taken a picture of me while I was hungover. They knew I was with my boyfriend, and I was not sure why exactly they insisted on asking but I decided to ignore the question. I also hated how they always used a nickname for me, as if we were close friends. It was definitely uncalled for and made me uncomfortable. I turned around, feeling my heartbeats accelerate, and closed my eyes, hoping Niall was going to come back soon. They kept throwing a bunch of questions at me but the only one I actually clearly heard was:

"How do you feel about that sex tape of you two going around?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. What was 'going around' online was anything but a sex tape. So yea, you could see us making out for a few seconds and talk... you could see us disappear behind a door and it didn't take much imagination to take a good guess at what we had done right after, but to qualify that as a 'sex tape' was totally eye rolling. I tried turning around again and walk a bit further but one of them moved very close to me and accidentally (i think?) hit my arm, making me almost drop my cup of coffee. I let out a curse word under my breath as some of the brown beverage fell on my shirt but also felt a hand on my waist, making me feel suddenly relaxed.

"Hey man, stay away from her okay?" I heard the guy start arguing but my boyfriend cut him off quickly. "No I'm serious. Give us space, we won't answer your question. Don't try me."

I raised my eyebrows, surprised by the threatening tone Niall had used, and he quickly walked back closer to me, taking his cup from my hand and replacing it with his own hand before squeezing my fingers in his. We walked away quickly and got in a cab in silence. I sighed and leaned my head on the seat after Niall told the driver about the hotel we stayed in and I closed my eyes.

"This is the part that I hate." I admitted after a few minutes.

"The attention?" he asked before I turned my head his way, noticing the small smile playing on his lips.

"Well, yea. I mean, I've never been the kind to enjoy attention... but that specific kind of attention? It's horrible." I admitted, raising my nose up. "Being asked about rumors and gossips while they try to snap the ugliest picture of you they can just so they can sell it for a few pounds. There's nothing good about that kind of attention."

"Can't disagree with you." my boyfriend let out after a sigh. "Don't let them get to you though, it's not worth it."

We quickly walked back to the hotel and started packing again. We moved easily around the hotel room, like a well-rehearsed choreography, and I loved that. I was clumsy, that was true, but with Niall, everything seemed to come so naturally. Even if the rooms we stayed in were different, we still managed to complete specific tasks easily and without stepping on each other's feet, and after only half an hour, our bags were waiting by the door, as usual.

I sat on the bed, knowing we had about 15 minutes free before we left, and after a while, Niall sat next to me. It took him a few seconds to reach for my hand and when I looked up in his eyes, my lips curled a bit. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses anymore. Instead, he had put his black baseball cap on and I could see his eyes. Blue with a tint of yellow...

"The tour is almost over." he whispered in a soft tone. "Then we can go back home... wherever 'home' is for you. If you want to go back to England, then I'm good with that, too. If you want to spend some time in Ireland it's cool too. Just tell me so I can book a hotel room. We're not staying at my mom's again."

I chuckled and shook my head, making him smile too.

"I'm sorry. I'm exhausted and I'm not even the one that spends hours on stage every other night. Can't imagine how you feel."

"I'm used to it." he just said with a shrug. "I mean, if you need to go back to LA for your tv show, I understand too."

"Mm, no. I need to write the next season anyway before we can film anything so there's no rush." I explained, looking down at his hand holding mine. "Besides, I think I'd like to try writing a book or something."

It was the very first time I admitted that out loud but I thought it was obvious. After all, that tv show started off with chapters of a story that I posted every week on my dad's web site. I was not sure how it had turned into a tv show but the first idea I had had was definitely a book.

"A book about what?"

I looked back up in his eyes and let out a laugh at his facial expression. I could understand why it was scaring him, but I had already written about our story, there was no reason for me to write some more in a book. Maybe he was just scared that people would think it's about us, no matter what it was really about, but I just shrugged. I didn't really care what anyone thought. Well, except Niall.

"Ghosts. Or, robots. Or vampires." I pointed out, making him chuckle. "Nothing that has to do with you and me."

"Or superheroes, perhaps?" he proposed with a smirk, his eyebrows raised.

"Maybe, who knows?"

We stared at each other for a few seconds and I saw him swallow hard. It made me frown slightly and I could swear he was about to tell me something serious, something really important... but he just smiled more and bent down to kiss me hard.

"Come on, we need to go or we'll be late."

[taboofables]

CP2077 OC ask game *:･ﾟ✧⚔️🤖🔮 [x]

PERSONAL.

1. what is their full name? do they have any nicknames? what are they and why did they get them? Vincent Laszlo Toth. Everyone just calls him V because he doesn’t like getting too personal. But if he feels comfortable around you he prefers to be called Laszlo. He’ll tell you himself  

2. how old are they? how long have they been living on their own? 28 as of 2077. He’s been living on his own for 10 years since he joined Arasaka

3. what are their astrology signs? sun/moon/rising. He was born on June 10th 2049, which makes him a sun Gemini, moon Libra and ascendant Virgo 

4. what tarot card from the major arcana would you associate with them? The Fool, the Hanged Man, Death

5. are they religious or spiritual in any way? Neither but his experience made him think of many things and he’s coming to a sort of spirituality in his own way 

6. which of the four elements would you associate with them? Fire for his inner strength and transformation through action 

9. which of the nine alignments are they? (lawful good etc) Chaotic neutral 

10. which of the myers-briggs personality types are they? ESTP

11. do they have any cyberware? is it cosmetic or is it weaponry/armor? Circulatory system: Second heart; Frontal cortex: Ex-Disk; Arms: Projectile launch system; Ocular system: Kiroshi optics; Cyberdeck: NetWatch Netdiver Mk.5; Integumentary system: Subdermal armor; Skeleton: Titanium bones, Bionic lungs; Legs: Fortified ankles 

12. what is their occupation? Arasaka’s personal lapdog? He’s not sure yet because he does a bit of everything but his competence in weaponry and hacking earned him a good score in the eyes of Saburo and Hanako Arasaka themselves. Sorry Goro & Oda 

13. if you were to choose a class for them, what would it be? Combat netrunner

14. what is their weapon of choice? M-179 Achilles precision rifle, Malorian Arms 3516 gun

15. what is their preferred vehicle or transportation of choice? Villefort Cortes Delamain no.21 & Yaiba Kusanagi CT-3X.  Depends on his mood and how fast he needs to arrive

16. how would you describe their style? He’s a shameless looter and wears only the best from his fallen enemies :)  But mostly it’s neomilitarism

17. are they a early riser or a night owl? Night owl. He can adapt but at any given chance he stays up late and wakes up late

18. share three songs you associate with them. Devils Got You Beat - Blues Saraceno Nu Disco Remix Limp Bizkit - Break Stuff Jonathan Davis - Walk On By

NIGHT CITY.

19. is your character from night city? if no, where were they born? what brought them to night city? if yes, what area of the city did they grow up? Charter Hill, Night City. It’s a corpo district, relatively new. Used to be a nice place until everyone with big pockets got the hots for North Oak. Now it’s just the most affordable comfort area for mid-level corpos

20. where do they currently live? describe their home. He currently resides at the Arasaka Family Compound outskirts of Tokyo. It’s a huge ass fortress in a feudal style, beautiful and old-fashioned. He has a simple but spacious room in a traditional Japanese style with a futon mattress. He loathes it & most of the people around but at least he gets fed well regularly, and he enjoys spending time in a cherry grove garden 

21. do they have any favorite spots around NC? A garden in the Glen, he found it refreshing

22. do they like to cook for themselves, or eat out? do they prefer restaurants or street food? and how do they feel about vending machine food? He doesn’t like vending machines and enjoys the food served at the Compound, even if it seems exotic to him. But occasionally he eats street food to remind himself of his past life

23. do they prefer the city or the badlands? Stone jungles all the way. He was born in the city and he doesn’t get the appeal of dirt, sand and wind

24. what gang/faction/corporation do they align with, if any? Arasaka. He always thought it was more promising than Militech despite his parents’ lectures. His fate within the company wasn’t always good but he worked hard to prove himself. In some twisted way it did pay off

25. which radio station(s) is their favorite? He switches between Pacific Dreams, Vexelstrom, Samizdat and Morro Rock

26. if they do merc work, do they have one dedicated fixer? if so, who? Not really but he enjoyed working with Rogue. Johnny was right, she is the best. Her charisma is unmatched

27. have they ever had run ins with the badges? He prefers not to attract attention even if he has corpo immunity

28. are they quick to help a stranger in need or do they prefer to stay out of other peoples business? Depends. If stranger seems to be innocent then he might, but if V smells they brought it on themselves he won’t lift a finger for them

29. do they have any favorite celebrities that frequent or live in NC? how would they feel meeting them? V isn’t into celebrities. His closest experience to meeting one would be abduction of Hanako Arasaka. It wasn’t part of the plan and at first he thought he screwed up even worse than before - she was his former boss’ daughter at the time and he was practically begging her for help. But for some strange reason she reached out to him more than once so maybe he wasn’t so terrible

RELATIONSHIPS.

30. is your friend a social butterfly or more of a loner? Not exactly a butterfly but certainly not a loner. He socializes well but currently the world of top-level managers makes him feel out of place. Not a lot of people to connect to and it’s suffocating

31. who are their closest chooms in NC? Jackie was. Now it’s Viktor Vector and Misty but he hasn’t seen them in a while

32. do they have anyone they would consider family? Judy and Panam as they went through a lot together and supported each other

33. what is/was their relationship like with their parents? They are Militech managers so they weren’t happy when he chose Arasaka. They don’t communicate ever since

34. do they have siblings? He has an older brother Andras ‘Andy’ Toth but he hasn’t spoken to him for a while either

35. how would you describe their relationship with their family? Estranged

36. who is their biggest enemy? At this point anyone The Arasakas point their fingers at

37. tell a short story about your character with their best choom. Not exactly a story but V regrets never telling Jackie how much he affected his life. Jackie was a real force of nature

38. do they have a love interest? if so, who? He might... But he’s completely oblivious to his feelings and she’s way out of his league. It’s Hanako Arasaka

39. are they in a committed relationship or do they date around? They’re not and they don’t

40. has your character ever been in love? if so, with who? Once, with another corpo girl at Arasaka long time ago. It didn’t work

41. do they believe in soulmates? No, he believes in luck and mutual efforts

42. do they believe in love at first sight? He heard about it but it never happened to him and he doesn’t believe he can fall for someone just seeing them for the first time. You literally don’t know them at all at this point. He believes that love is a mutual investment and work

43. describe their ideal date. At this point it might be something as simple as watching sakura trees blooming. Small pleasures of life

44. would your character ever get married? If he had more time to live then maybe, theoretically. If he could be with someone special and circumstances worked in their favor

45. what was your characters first impression of their partner(s)? Not a partner but rather a love interest. He thought that Hanako handled herself well given the overall situation, and even was arrogant as fuck. Maybe that’s why she impressed him, it left a mark on his memory. I mean, you kidnap someone and they pretty much insult you? Fuck yes, no gift wrap is required

46. are they open about their relationship or low key? how would other people feel about them together? They’re not in a relationship but if they would be then it’d definitely be low key. No one should know, otherwise it may create serious problems for both

47. share a headcanon about your character and their partner(s). He likes to take and touch things from her table when he’s pensive during their conversations. Occasionally he spouts self-made haiku when the mood strikes him and boy - he’s terrible at it

48. share three songs you associate with your character and their partner(s). Chris Isaak - Wicked Game Jonathan Davis - Basic Needs The Rolling Stones - Anybody Seen My Baby? Hikaru Utada - Heart Station

NSFW.

49. name three of your characters biggest turn ons. Nice derriere, beautiful eyes and maturity

50. name three of your characters biggest kinks. Not taking clothes off; Voyeurism; Footsie

51. do they like having multiple partners or do they prefer monogamy? When it comes to a relationship he’s fully committed but he hasn’t been in one for a long time

52. do they watch porn or braindances? Both but BDs beat porn. He doesn’t do it often though

53. would your character ever make an explicit braindance? No, he’s not interested and not in a position to make one

54. do they have any cybernetic enhancements that serve sexual purposes? No

55. do they have a preference for ‘ganic bodies or do they like modifications? He doesn’t care much as long as he likes the person. Organic bodies are soft and warm, they give different kind of sensations. But he’s not picky

56. name three of your characters biggest turn offs. Low IQ, overly sexual behavior, manipulations

57. what is their ultimate fantasy? or ““secret”“ kink? Don’t ask because he won’t tell you even if his life depended on it. It’s bending Hanako over her piano and giving her a hard fuck, and once they’re done it’s breathing heavily in unison against her neck, their hands holding each other, her golden fingers leaving bruises on his thighs afterwards

58. would they ever use any substances like aphrodisiacs, alcohol or drugs during sex? No, he prefers natural sensations. At least as long as his nervous system is working properly

59. what is their wildest sexual experience? He accidentally almost drowned once during sex in a bathtub

60. are they more submissive or dominant? Dominant

61. does your character need to have an intimate relationship with someone to have sex? or do they prefer being unattached? That depends on a situation. Intimate relationship heightens the effects but aren’t necessary to derive pleasure

62. has your character ever participated in group sex? No but he received invitations

63. do they like to sext or play over the holo? Yes, if there’s a appropriate time for it

64. has your character ever ghosted someone after a sexual encounter? Yes

65. how would they react if they were ghosted by someone they like after a sexual encounter? He’s already been ghosted by Meredith Stout and he doesn’t think it’s a big deal. It’s unpleasant but why focus on something that doesn’t work if you can find more opportunities?

66. do they prefer kink oriented sex or spontaneous passionate sex? If he had to choose then it would be the latter 

67. how do they get down on their own? quick and easy or do they have to romance themselves a little? Quick and easy, all he needs is imagination and a shower. Just don’t disturb him

68. in what outfit do they feel sexiest? how do they dress to impress? Anything that’s clean, fresh and comfortable to wear

69. do they like having music on while they have sex? share three songs they’d play while getting down. He never tried it with music but he’s always open to new experiences and suggestions