#that I should show myself gentleness in the face of challenges and feelings of insecurity???

[sapphicfog]

Okay the metaphor of Mentopolis got me. Yes, you gotta turn towards your shame and self loathing with kindness and self-compassion

[alxtiny]

hello! saw you taking request and i have been wanting a yunho scenario (angst/soft smut n fluff ending) with plus size! reader. wherein y/n is a graphic designer and has been experiencing insecurities with all the models she's editing for work... sorry english is not my first language. thank you 🤍

Design | Jeong Yunho x reader

Synopsis: where yunho helps you forget your insecurities

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x graphic designer!reader, domestic au

Genre: smut, fluff

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: heavy smut, afab reader, no use of protection (wrap it before you tap it guys), piv, multiple orgasms, minimal dialogue MINORS DO NO INTERACT

Notes: I’m sorry for taking this long this is my first smut 😭😭😭 i hope you like it

masterlist

In the dim glow of the computer screen, you meticulously crafted characters for a new project. As you worked, your eyes flickered between your design and the models on the screen. Each stroke of the digital pen seemed to highlight your own insecurities, magnifying the differences between yourself and the designs you created. No matter how much time you spent creating realistic bodies, perfect faces, and exquisite clothing, you still couldn't not compare them with your body or face. 

"Why can't I look like them?" you whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet room. You compared your curves to the slender figures on the screen, your fingers tracing the outline of your own body almost unconsciously. Doubt crept in like a shadow, casting a pall over your confidence."How could something have such an appealing figure? What is wrong with me?"You sighed heavily, knowing you were being silly.

Meanwhile, Yunho noticed the change in your demeanour. He approached you, his eyes filled with concern. "Hey, what's going on?" he asked gently, his voice like a soothing melody in the midst of your turmoil.

You looked up, your eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. "I just... I feel so inadequate compared to these models I'm editing. They're perfect, and I'm just..." your voice trailed off, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.

Yunho knelt beside you, his warm hand cupping your cheek. "You are perfect, just the way you are," he said, his sincerity cutting through your self-doubt. "Your uniqueness, your curves, they make you beautiful. Don't let these digital images distort your perception of yourself."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared into Yunho's brown irises, seeing nothing but love and acceptance. "But it's hard, Yunho. Every day, I'm bombarded with these unrealistic standards of beauty. How can I not compare myself?"

He gently wiped away your tears with his thumb, his touch grounding you in the moment. "I understand, Y/N. It's challenging, but you have to remember that real beauty comes from within. Your kindness, your talent, your passion – those are the things that make you truly extraordinary."

You nodded, taking in his words like a lifeline in the storm. "I just wish I could see myself the way you see me."

Yunho smiled, his eyes filled with adoration. "I see a strong, talented, and beautiful person who I love more than words can express. I see someone who inspires others with her creativity and passion. You are more than your insecurities, Y/N. You are enough, just as you are."

Unable to hold back any longer, you leaned forward, brushing your lips against his soft skin. "Thank you, Yuyu," you murmured, hoping the gratitude in your voice would translate.

Yunho's eyes fluttered closed as his head tilted to the side, inviting you to continue. For a few moments, all was quiet except for the faint sounds of the computer humming.

Then, he lifted your chin and kissed you tenderly. His gentle kiss stirred something inside of you, warming you from the inside out. "Mmm," he moaned softly, the sound catching your attention. “Maybe I should show you how I see you and your so called imperfections,” he whispered against your lips, pulling away slightly before kissing you again, this time deeper. He took you in his arms, wrapping you tightly against him, your fingers entwined in his hair as he deepened the kiss, slowly pushing you towards the bed.

When you felt Yunho’s firm hands caress your waist, your breath caught in your throat. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest as your senses heightened to the point where you felt everything around you. He pushed you down slowly, onto the bed, as his lips traveled from your lips to your jaw and neck, leaving little purple marks in their wake.

The taste of your skin intoxicated him, driving him wild as his tongue licked along your collarbone. His hands wandered downwards, moving in slow motion as if to savor each sensation. You squirmed beneath him, arching your back, inviting him to explore your body further.

At last, he reached the hem of the long shirt you wore, lifting it inch by inch until it was lying abandoned at your feet. You watched as he removed his shirt and pants, throwing them aside carelessly, leaving him in his boxers. He gazed down at you, his eyes darkening.

There was no need to ask; he knew exactly what you wanted. His mouth went further south leaving soft kisses and light marks on your torso. Reaching near your chest, he moved away, “ See, this is how much I love the way you look,” he whispered. you felt yourself become even more heated under his touch, a dark blush covering your face and chest.

As his mouth was once again on your skin continuing to move lower, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin of your stomach, you forgot all about your flaws. All you could think about was his soft lips trailing upwards now towards your breasts. You arched your back, allowing him better access to your stiff nipples.

His hands slid underneath the waistband of your panties, making contact with bare skin. He groaned at the feeling, “you’re already so wet for me…”

The gasp escaped your lips when his fingers found their way between your legs, massaging your swollen clit in circular motionswhile he sucked on your nipples. You moaned and arched into his mouth as your body trembled from pleasure.

Slowly he pushed two of his fingers inside your cunt. You had done this before but it still felt like a first. Your mind was reeling from lust and his rough touch. Your brain turned to mush. He kissed you again, nibbling at your neck, shoulders and earlobe, as he continued his ministrations, pumping his fingers faster and faster into you.

You whimpered, trying not to cry out too loud. You had to maintain some self-control or he would have stopped. Instead, you moaned, burying your face against his shoulder as your hole clenched around his fingers. The pressure began building. Your head was spinning and your cunt tingling as heat erupted through your entire body.

He looked at you as you gasped and tried to catch your breath. “You are so beautiful, I can’t have enough,” he said.

He kissed you passionately and sat back up to remove his boxers. “Climb up here, I want to see you…” His voice was full of passion and urgency.

Your fingers fumbled as you climbed onto his lap, sliding down until your soaked cunt was lined up against his cock. Your eyes widened despite knowing that he could easily fit inside like always. With your legs wrapped around his hips, he pulled you tight against his throbbing erection, enjoying the sensation. You slowly lowered yourself onto him and moaned. “That feels good…”. Yunho groaned in response, you slowly started to move.

As if reading your thoughts, he tightened his grip around your waist, holding you tightly in place as he thrust upwards, forcing his cock deeper inside of you, you bounced lightly on his cock trying hard to get a release.

Frustrated with the slow pace, he flipped you around, you shuddered at the new angle as he thrusted in and out of your cunt at an even faster pace, one hand gripping at the plush skin of your stomach . You cried out deep in pleasure, your hands gripping his biceps tighter and tighter and you cunt clenching around him uncontrollably. His other hand cupped your breast, pinching your nipple as he ground into you harder and harder. Sweat coated both of you as the heat built within each of you. Finally you couldn’t take anymore and screamed as you released all over his cock.

Yunho was breathing heavily now, his grip tightening even more as he forced himself as deeply into you as possible, his thrusts becoming erratic, and the pressure of his hand increasing, enough to leave bruises on your waist. It didn’t matter though, because you loved every bit of it. When he came, your cunt tightened and he buried himself as deep as he could go, painting your walls white. He slowly rode out his release, you felt your muscles relax as well, small whimpers escaping your lips.

When he finally collapsed on top of you, you laid there motionless, staring into his face, thinking how lucky you were to be with someone like him. He shifted slightly, bringing his hand down to cup your cheek, kissing you gently on the lips. “I love you, you are absolutely flawless,” he whispered, looking at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. You giggled at his words, “I love you too Yunho, so so much.”

Kissing him tenderly, you felt him smile beneath your lips. Your heart fluttered and you relaxed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, wanting to stay right where you were forever, as you both drifted off to sleep.

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

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DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

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[kywaslost]

Hello, How are you? I hope you’re doing good. Can I request Aizawa x student reader who has like a very similar quirk to his and they start feeling self conscious about how their quirk isn’t that flashy and they feel like they won’t make a good hero? You can choose on whether it’s head cannons or a scenario. Have a blessed day <333

Birds of a Feather - Aizawa

A/N: Hello! I’m well, how are you? I hope you’re doing well :) Thank you so much for requesting!!! I decided to go with headcanons if that’s alright? I hope you have a blessed day as well <33

First of all, Aizawa took a liking to you the second he saw your quirk during the entrance exam. You weren’t able to use it much but made it in with recommendations and points you could scrounge up during all portions of the entrance exam.

Your quirk was much like his, except yours was voice activated instead of using your eyesight. It was almost as if Shinsou and Aizawa’s quirk were to mix.

Despite your quirk, you were a quiet kid. You didn’t speak much, and Aizawa had a feeling he knew why.

He was once in your shoes, after all.

Aizawa noticed how you focused less on strengthening your quirk and more time building muscle and stamina. So much so that it seemed as though your ability to use your quirk was diminishing.

So Aizawa asked you to stay after class one day.

It didn’t take long for you to open up to him.

“I guess I just feel insecure,” you admitted, looking down at your shoes. One was coming untied, laces stuck under said shoe. “My quirk is a lot different than everyone else’s.”

“How so?” Aizawa’s voice was gentle, encouraging you to voice your thoughts and opinions. He tried to meet your gaze, red eyes uncharacteristically soft.

“I don’t have a quirk based on strength and stamina,” you began. You lifted your head, offering a small smile to your homeroom teacher. “I don’t know. Everyone else just seems like they could turn out to be really good heroes. I guess I feel like I won’t?”

Aizawa returned your soft smile. “What makes you think that?”

You shrugged. “My quirk isn’t as flashy as everyone else’s and we all know that quirks play a huge role in fame and popularity.” You bit the skin on your bottom lip. “I guess that means I can’t be a good hero.”

“No one ever said that.” Aizawa crouched down in front of you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Why did you want to become a hero, Y/N?”

You didn’t hesitate to answer, “Because I want to help people!” Your eyes shined a bit brighter at the thought. “When I was younger I always thought I was going to be a nurse or doctor, but then I realized that being a hero will let me save so many more people.”

“Then why should you let what society deems the big time pro heroes stop you?” Aizawa asked. “You know, you remind me a lot of myself. Our quirks are very similar. And look where I am.”

You giggled softly, bringing about another soft smile from Aizawa. “You’re a teacher of a bunch of teenagers.”

He chuckled to himself. “Well, yes, but I am still a hero. I’m just as important as Hawks or Endeavor. I save just as many people, I just don’t get my name in the papers.” Shouta’s hand moved from your shoulder to your head, ruffling your hair. “I think you’ll turn out to be an amazing hero, kid.”

Aizawa offers extra quirk-strengthening lessons for you to help you feel better about yourself.

He’s even been known to bring you on a few patrols to show you that being an underground hero is just as important as being a big time pro hero.

This man is always there for you when you feel down or insecure. He’ll help you with any problem or challenge you may be facing :)

[notgalaxii]

How about... how do the brothers act around their crush?

This one was super sweet to write I- I love them 👉👈. Thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoy 🤞💕✨

Pride

Lucifers crush is the absolute hardest to tell

To the untrained eyes and ears, it seems like he's just being himself, but to those who are close to him, it's a little obvious

Lucifer tends to be more caring in a loving way than in a strict, "do what I say" manner

It's less of "Go to bed so you can go to school and not disappoint Diavolo" and more of "Get some rest, it's not healthy for you to stay up so late."

He also tends to be a little more expressive near his crush

Lucifer's signature knowing smirk twists up a little higher, and his eyes glimmer with not only pride but a bit of satisfaction and compassion around them.

He makes sure to give them small compliments

Typically his pride wouldn't allow him to endorse others, but with them, oooh boy

He will let them know how they look ravishing in such a nonchalant way; it seems like it's nothing

But to him, it could be everything

Bonus: He stood up to Diavolo once for his crush. Sort of.

Diavolo had given them a list of tasks to do and Lucifer felt like it was a bit much

"My lord, do you really believe that some of these are the best idea?"

It wasn't much but lets just say that Satan and Mammon were near by and their jaws hit the floor.

Greed

A mess. He acts like an absolute MESS around them

When he's just walking down the hall, he's composed. All of a sudden, his crush walks by him and awakens this sense of "I must embarrass myself at all times around this person and then punch myself about it later."

He hypes himself up around his crush

"Hah, of course the GREAT MAMMON can open this jar for you! Bow down, little human. Revel in my strength!!" he struggles to open it a little as well

In more serious and personal moments, Mammon is very sweet

As sweet as he can get when he's still trying to aggressively deny ANY sort of feelings

"Don't ever doubt yourself. You're my human, which means you kick ass. I wouldn't pick a human that WASN'T a total badass. N-not that I particularly picked you out of a crowd- YOU FORCED ME INTO THIS."

Bonus: If Mammon has a touchy crush, he would absolutely melt into their hands as he aggressively blushes at them

They'd get close enough to play with his hair and he'd be jelly on the floor

Would get super sad if they left and forgot their hug because he got used to oh how soft they were

Envy

Leviathan tries the absolute hardest to hide it

Unless you count Mammon but come on, is he really trying?

Leviathan's biggest tell would be that he tries to share his otaku passions with his crush

Because if he likes them, they've gotta be into that kinda stuff, right!? They're definitely not a normie and would absolutely LOVE his Manga collection

Would play it off nearly as tsundere-esque as Mammon

"I've decided that you're really nice to me, so I'm going to let you come over today and play video games with me. I have a super special raid spot saved for the two of us!!"

He tries pretty hard to impress them with his vast knowledge on obscure animes and idols

Levi would be at his crush's beck and call

"I saw you called me, I was in a dungeon but I tried to finish it as fast as I could!! What did you need~?"

Definitely a blush-a-tron 3000

All of his crushes are anime characters! How does he deal with someone he likes IN REAL LIFE!?

I'll tell you how, he sticks his hand over his face and tries to freeze time with his super secret power that he has yet to unlock and probably never will.

Bonus: Leviathan tells Henry 2.0 about his crush every time he spends time with them

"They touched my hand Henry, they touched my hand!!" blushes just thinking about it.

Wrath

Satan is ✨gentle✨ with his crush.

He's pretty insecure about how intense his anger can be when it comes to people he doesn't want to hurt, especially if it's a human.

Satan will try to show them his softest side in hopes that when they meet his wrath, they can anchor onto the fact that he's not that bad

That being saaaaid, if he senses their discomfort whatsoever, he tries to put out the flames of rage that are constantly brewing inside of him

And then offer to take them to somewhere to hopefully make them feel better.

"You seem to be tense. How would you like to join me on a little excursion? We could go see the new art exhibit that just opened up."

If that doesn't work, he invites them to his room to drink tea and maybe just chat

If they're into reading, he'll offer to let them look at his collection and maybe even pick something to borrow.

Satan is also pretty playful with his crush

Sometimes he'll say something a little mean just to get a reaction out of them, then immediately reassure them to the max that he was messing around.

"And I should be seen in public with a human because?"

"Hey-!"

"I was kidding!" He'd chuckle, bringing a mischievous finger to rest on his lips, "I only wanted to see how you'd react. I'd love to go somewhere with you."

Bonus: Satan's best pranks are with his crush.

Satan would definitely catch feelings with someone that challenge his brain and make him think bigger. He'd fall for someone bold, adventurous, and smart.

So combining the two of them makes for some of the most CREATIVE pranks

"So you guys are telling me that you switched the body of Mammon and a random woman on the street and then made a bet with Asmo that he couldn't seduce said woman... who had Mammon in her body."

"Absolutely."

Lust

Asmodeus would make his crush so obvious that everyone just thought he was messing around

He'd shower his crush in praise all the time

"Look at you! So beautiful!"

"Tell me, doll, have I ever let you know that your face is so symmetrical? Oh and your nose is so cute!~"

But oh, he gets f l u s t e r e d by them

If they compliment him back, he'll have a brief moment to blush and try to recover immediately

I feel like Asmodeus isn't as narcissistic as he leads on, like part of it is an act. Honestly, he might even be a little bit insecure about a few things so he buffs up his narcissism to distract from it.

That being said, he probably doesn't buff his narcissism around his crush that often

He puts the focus on them

Tries his best to listen to absolutely everything they have to say

Will make sure that they know he's always going to be there

Bonus: Asmodeus will always dress up his crush when he gets the chance to be absolutely stunning, but then gets really jealous when they go out and people start staring.

"Ah! It seems like they're admiring my work a little too much! I think if these dogs aren't put on leashes anytime soon, I might just have to take you back home. You wouldn't mind some alone time with Asmo, would you?~" The last sentence slips his lips in a very smooth and almost sultry tone.

Gluttony

Beel is so fucking precious please lord save me from this puppy

He would talk a lot around his crush

Boy has so much to say, I'm telling you

He's just never found the person to listen

His crush would be THAT person

The rest of the brothers would watch like "What drugs did this guy take? He usually only opens his mouth to eat something or say he wants to eat something."

Beel would also be VERY protective around his crush. Nobody would say anything to them ever because Beel would be looming over their shoulder like "Say it and I eat you."

Bonus: Everyone talks about Beels s/o being an amazing chef but just imagine him falling for someone who can't cook?

Like even though the food is bad he will sit there and eat absolutely eVERYTHING THEY MAKE

Because hes supportive and just wants to make them smile

Sloth

A weird combination of flirty and shy

Sometimes Belphie will tease his crush a little like Satan would, making comments just to see their reaction

But Belphie would see how long it would take for them to catch it instead of immediately reassuring them

He would crush on someone who doesn't mind his lifestyle of napping a lot, taking things slow, and not really caring so he'd be comfortable with them

Sometimes if his crush was sweet to him he'd get a little blushy and shy

Bonus: Imagine Belphie with an insomniac crush who can't sleep at night and takes random naps during the day

They get really tired cause they couldnt sleep the night before and Belphie asks them to come nap with him

He'll get them a pillow and everything to help them sleep at night

[quinntheebrain]

Hi there! I was wondering if you could do a jealous bokuto x f!reader (preferably if not then gn! is fine). Like he gets jealous of his bby and kuroo getting along really well... a little too well lmao. Anyways, I hope your day/night is going great ya wonderful person <3

Pairing: Jealous!Bokuto Kōtarō x fem!reader

Warnings: implied alcohol use, a temporarily sad Bokuto, Ummm I curse????

A/N: *deep heavy sigh* I looked over this 1000x lmfao. I’m used to writing fics and not hcs, so they’re probably not the best (I gotta stop doubting myself). I’m always so nervous to share my writings, but this a learning process! Thanks for being my first request. It’s been a while since I wrote anything seriously and shared it. I really hope you enjoy it :) Also, somebody else (who I can’t think of rn) hc that Bokuto doesn’t drink, I just agree wholeheartedly. 

Oh, my precious baby Bokuto. He’s so cute it hurts🥺. 

He gets jealous easily. 

He’s so lively that people naturally gravitate toward him. So, he’s used to being the center of attention. 

Even though the only person’s attention he really cares about is yours.

Bokuto loves the way you look at him when he makes you smile. He loves the feeling of just being in your presence.

So, when he sees you and Kuroo smiling and laughing from across the bar he’s irritated. 

And when the two of you get a little too close for comfort, he’s fuming

...but for some reason, I feel like he wouldn’t say anything

Now, Bokuto would normally shut that shit down instantly.

But it’s Kuroo, his closest friend. He doesn’t want any kind of confrontation. He doesn’t want to cause a scene (I believe Bokuto could beat Kuroo’s ass)

So, he says nothing and instead spends the night alternating between super soft/affectionate and super distant. 

He’ll bring it up in private though. Half-jokingly asking if you’d prefer Kuroo to him. 

And when the conversation turns serious 

Don’t invalidate his feelings, don’t make him feel crazy. (he’ll curl up in a ball and it will be a long time before he opens up to you again)

RE-AS-SUR-ANCE!!!!!!!! He needs it; he will die without it. Please just tell this boy how much you love him. 

And please believe he doesn’t blame you alone. He talks to Kuroo after he talks to you.

Because next time, Bokuto won’t be so nice :)

This is the third time Kuroo has put his arm around you; Bokuto is counting. He watches you from across the room as he holds a conversation with Akaashi; though, at this point, his friend’s words are nothing more than background noise. 

You are supposed to be with them, but once Kuroo challenges you to a drinking contest, Bokuto knows it’s a lost cause. You promise to join him shortly and though he doesn’t believe you, he nods as if he does. Unlike you, and most of his friends, Bokuto doesn’t drink; he just doesn’t like the taste, but he wants you to have a good time. So, he goes to sit with Akaashi by himself but not before leaning down and pulling you into a soft kiss. Bokuto’s large palm caresses your cheek as his mouth moves delicately against your own; It’s quick and gentle, but it’s effective. His lips linger on yours just long enough to leave you wanting more; it’s a reminder that he’ll be waiting for you. 

But, 15 minutes have passed and you’re still glued to Kuroo’s side. 

Now, you’re a giggling mess, teasing one of your boyfriend’s closest friends, who seems to be enjoying the attention a little too much. The rest of their volleyball buddies watch and laugh, most of them far too inebriated to find anything wrong with the way the two of you are interacting. Bokuto, on the other hand, finds everything wrong with it. He watches you with narrow eyes and tightly clenched fists, trying his hardest to keep his composure.

“Your jealousy is showing,” Akaashi smirks at his best friend; Bokuto hasn’t been listening to a word he says. He wants to tease him about it but now doesn’t seem like the time. “Why don’t you just tell them it’s bothering you?” 

“They’re not doing it on purpose,” Bokuto sighs as he unclenches his fists, wiggling his fingers to crack his knuckles. “Besides, there was a time she couldn’t even be in the same room as Kuroo. I’m glad they’re friends now and if I say something I might ruin it.” he looks away from you and instead focuses on the ground. 

“Forget about Kuroo,” Akaashi says, slightly irritated. “What about you? If you don’t talk to her, you might ruin your relationship. You don’t want to harbor resentment toward the one you love,” Akaashi glances at Bokuto, who is unable to reply. They stand in silence for a short time. Akaashi doesn’t want to bombard Bokuto with advice; he knows that sometimes, a few thoughtful words are enough. “Look, it’ll be okay. I have to go.” Akaashi pats Bokuto’s shoulder, leaving him alone to think about the situation. 

Bokuto is truly happy that you and Kuroo have finally learned to get along but deep down, a part of him wishes the two of you never stopped the incessant bickering; part of him wishes that you still disliked Kuroo and he disliked you. Maybe, the petty arguments were nothing but an attempt to mask the attraction you felt toward each other but honestly, that’s what Bokuto would prefer. Because what’s happening now — you and Kuroo openly fawning over each other — is driving him crazy. 

I’m just imagining things, he thinks to himself. Maybe, there is no real meaning to the way the two of you are carrying on; but, watching as Kuroo embraces you in a hug that lingers a little longer than it should doesn’t ease his mind. Your face buried into Kuroo’s chest, his hands pressed firmly against your lower back as he rocks you side to side, it’s a bit more than Bokuto can handle. The thought of you in someone else’s arms so intimately bothers him, and pulling out your phone to take Kuroo’s contact info is the icing on the cake. 

Still, you’d never know how much it affects Bokuto because he approaches you like there’s nothing wrong, and though he tugs you away from Kuroo rather possessively, he does it with the brightest smile. “Alright, ready babe?” He looks down to you with those golden eyes, glimmering with adoration as he places a kiss on your forehead. You nod ‘yes’ quickly. “See you later, bro.” you both wave at his friends once more before the two of you exit the bar. 

A weight lifts from Bokuto’s shoulders as the door shuts behind him; the absence of his best friend shouldn’t put him at ease, but it does. Still, Bokuto has another problem. 

You don’t want to harbor resentment toward the one you love. Akaashi’s words play in his head like a broken record. If he doesn’t settle this now, he never will. His insecurities will continue to fester until he can no longer look at you the same.

“You and Kuroo were pretty cozy tonight,” he fakes a chuckle as he peers at you from the corner of his eye. “I’m glad you two are so close now.”

“Cozy?” you scrunch up your face. You could count the number of times Kuroo touched you on one hand (which was still too many for Bokuto).  You will admit that you spent an unusual amount of time with Kuroo, but he’s more entertaining when he’s drunk; it’s actually your favorite time to be around him. “Hardly. If anything,” you pause, “Wait a minute. Ko, are you jealous?” you manage to suppress your smile, but there's a hint of amusement in your tone. 

He doesn’t answer your question; it’s embarrassing enough to even be feeling this way and for you to call him out so quickly only makes it worse. He takes a deep breath, “Y/N,” Bokuto’s voice is barely above a whisper. “Do you ever think you’d be better off with Kuroo? I mean the two of you actually have a lot in common, and I just think-” the words sound crazy now that he’s finally saying them out loud. 

“No,” you say sternly and confidently, cutting off your boyfriend before he has the chance to ramble on. It’s reassuring how quick you are to shut the notion down. “Besides, we really only have one thing in common,” you pause in your tracks, forcing Bokuto to stop and look at you. 

“What’s that?”

“We both love you so much,” you can’t help but smile as you speak. Bokuto has such amazing people in his life and that warms your heart. “We would never try to hurt you; I would never try to hurt you. I’m so sorry for even making you feel like that.” the apology is sincere. Your glossy eyes are a giveaway. “If I haven’t made this clear, you are the only one for me. It’s you and me, together forever,” he wipes away a single tear; you hadn’t even realized you were crying. You never wanted to make him feel this way; he’s never sounded so defeated. Was he going to just hand you over to his best friend? Did he think you would accept that? “But really, Kuroo?” you pretend to vomit to lighten the mood. It makes you both laugh, something you desperately needed. 

“I love you,” Bokuto sighs in relief.  

“I love you too.” flinging your arms around his neck, you kiss him. 

There’s something almost enchanting about the way he immediately takes the lead. He doesn’t care about the taste of liquor that lingers in your mouth or the fact that you still smell like Kuroo’s cologne; at this moment, Bokuto only cares about you. His lips glide over yours passionately, yet ever so gently; your tongue sporadically teases his bottom lip, his teeth occasionally nibble on yours. It’s a steady rhythm that makes you weak in the knees. His hands find their way to your waist, then to your back, sliding down until they’re secure in your back pockets. 

Bokuto pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours. “Let’s get home, yeah?” he squeezes your ass before he removes his hands from your pocket; intertwining his fingers with yours, Bokuto starts to walk again. 

“Yeah,” you repeat with a smile on your face, nodding eagerly as he pulls you down the sidewalk. 

[daisiesandshakes]

Fanfic (William Shakespeare & reader)

Warning: light smut

Also warning: english is not my native language, but I hope you enjoy!

Words: about 2000 (wow... I am surprised by myself)

One step closer

It was a bad day.  In your opinion it couldn't have been worse. Since nearly three weeks now you're helping Shakespeare with his new play. Your task was to take care of the costumes, stopping by for cleaning or darning them. But after a few days an actress catched a bad flue and William asked you to take her place.

You happily agreed to his wish. First everything went smooth, it was challenging but also fun. You liked to work with the other actors right away, enjoying their open and caring personalities, but the most important thing: You are able to spend time with Shakespeare.

At first you were only curious about him, you wanted to know more about the great mysterious William Shakespeare, who has left the mansion, and for sure you wanted to find out more about his work. The more time passed by, the more you could see your feelings change.

By this time it is impossible for you to face his glare without trembling legs or hundreds of butterflies in your stomach. William Shakespeare- the perfect gentleman, always treating you with respect and a gentleness that borders on adoration. Plus he is an extremly hard worker, fully dedicated to his plays, he is considerate and charming, he's got a fine sense of humor always making you smile, and his voice... oh you could spend hours only listening to him. In one or two rare moments you were even able to notice a softer, almost shy side at him and at that rare moments you knew you were lost. Helpless to his force of attraction like a planet to the force of gravity from a black hole.

You're really trying hard to hide that you're in love with him.

Who are you at all? Only a normal young woman who fell in love with one of history's greatest men. He deserves better than you. William deserves a woman who is as much talented and captivate as him. So you decided to admire and love him in secrecy.

But unfortunately those secret feelings for him happened to be the reason for your desaster today.

First William adjusted your new costume over and over again. You could feel his hands moving over your body and as he corrected the ribbons of your corset you were at your limit. You sensed his breath in your neck and there was no way to hide the tremble that rushed through your form. "Are you okay? Do you need something?" His enticing voice next to your ear... You almost blurted out 'You!"

With shaky words you explained you only forgot to eat proper this morning. He hummed at your words, then promised to offer after rehearse everything to you what you desire. Ah... Your mind spun.

Later he took place for one of his actors to show how the scene should look like. That ment he held you in his arms and whispered lovingly lines while looking straight into your eyes. You weren't able to remember your part anymore, you barely managed to stutter an excuse and asked embarressed for a small break. Not waiting for the answer you broke from the embrace and hurried off the stage - when the next drama happened.

You lost balance as your long dress stuck to the rail und you fell down the last stair. One of the actors helped you up and you assured quickly to be okay while realising the beautiful costume is ruined. Tearing up you fled the scene without looking back.

And now you're sitting on the chaise in the changing area, desperate, full of shame and tired of yourself.

Hot tears of frustration are spurting out as Shakespeare opens the door slightly. " May I come in?" He asks with a soft voice. A sobb leaves your lips and you try to wipe your tears away as soon as possible."Sure, William". He sits down next to you, trying to meet your gaze. But you are feeling ashamed, looking down, avoiding his eyes. "I.. I am so sorry for ruining the rehearse and the beautiful dress..." another tear rolls down your cheek. With two fingers under your chin Will lifts your head.

"There is no need to apologize, my brave maiden", he whispers and let you drown in his enchanting, mismatched eyes. You can't help it - more tears are spilling out and his other hand reaches up to wipe them away affectionaly. Will's face is so close to yours, you can feel his breath on your skin. He cups your face. "Tis is all my fault and my heart is bleeding with sorrow, knowing I did this to you". You frown. "I don't understand William... Why should my clumpsiness be your fault?"

Staring in your eyes, he sighs. "I know what your heart desires, my fair maiden. Now I know it for sure." His thumbs caress softly  your cheeks. "The past days I could see a change in your glare when you looked at me.. and when you thought I wouldn't notice that your eyes are following me". In shock you're holding your breath and you could feel the heat rising in your face.

The playwright shows a small, almost shy smile "But.. I wasn't sure at first, you left me wondering what brought up tis change in your behavior. Mayhap I divined it and I only was afraid to let your very soul whisper to the solidified heart of mine, which didn't know how to respond anymore after so many lonely centuries."  Will swollows hard "Sometimes I felt a bit confused about you..." he confesses.

"When I made a move upon you, you made a move backwards. Sometimes you took two steps. Then again I thought to glimpse the truth demand of your heart in your eyes. And the thought that it could be me what your heart desires made me weak."

At this point you're questioning reality and your eyes grow wide in disbelieve. Are you fantasizing? Could it be...?

"Yes, I am weak for you my fair maiden..." He continues in a whisper as if he can read your mind. He leans a bit closer, his forehead touching yours. "Tis weakness frightened me" his lips graces your eyebrows, then your cheekbones, a shiver runs down your spine. His lips feel so warm and soft... A whimper leaves your lips and you close your eyes.

"But at sudden my soul obtained greater fears to me." William's lips travel down, brushing your jaw. You inhale the scent of his silken hair and his shaving water. Your mind goes blank and your heart is beating so fast and hard now, you're afraid he can hear it.

"Not to see tis very expression in your eyes because of me anymore. Not having you around me anymore. Never being able to touch you..." Now he whispers in your ear, his lips touching your earlobe ever so slightly and you can't supress a moan. "As I knew my true fears and my deepest longing, I decided to force you to a reaction... And though I feel ashamed for doing tis to you... " William murmurs between tender butterfly kisses he places along your jawline. Shouldn't you be angry now with Shakespeare?  But your mind wasn't able to create a reasonable thought and his alluring sing-song voice hypnotizes you. Forgetting everything else, you only want his touch and get lost in your love for him.

"Your oh so sweet, passionate reactions brought tis insecure heart of mine more joy I could ever  imagine. For now there is no turning back... Nor for me, nor for you fair maiden."

He stops moving his mouth over your face and with a seductive voice he pleads "Look at me."

With intermittently breath you open your eyes to meet his stare and your heart flutters over the desperate, wanting  glance.

"Would you forgive tis poor, troublesome sinner?" Barely able to speak you manage somehow to whisper:"How can I not forgive you, Will? I love you so much."

Moving his fingers through your hair he grabs the back of your head, his eyes now dark and full of pleasure. " To grace me with those words.. they make me dizzy with desire..."

Again Shakespeare leans in closer, his burning eyes glued to your mouth. "And would you allow tis poor sinner who loves you insanely, wildly and infinitely to taste your lips...?"

Your heart misses a beat. Maybe two. This time you skip the answer, pulling him at his collar into a kiss.

William lets out a moan of surprise, throwing his arms around you, pressing your body against his. The kiss grows fast deeper as you feel his tongue flickering against your lips, begging for entrance. Obeying his wish, you let his tongue slip inside and the world around you stops existing.There was nothing you could do but moan into his kiss helplessly. Feeling his demanding tongue pushing in deep, then teasingly intertwinning with yours, while his hands endlessly caress the curves of your body, ruins  every yet existing rest of reason. The uprising heat in your veins burns to a point of hurt and starts a raging fire from your belly down to your inner thighs.

Suddenly William breaks the kiss, pulling your head to his chest, where you can hear his speeding heartbeat. "We should stop here my fair temptress, or else I won't be able to hold myself back anymore."

What? No no no... now that you've got a hint of the taste of everything you were craving for the last days, you have no intention to stop so soon. Your body still humming with pleasure you cling to his shoulders and leave a trail of small kisses from his collarbone up to his neck. Rubbing his cheek against yours he whines "Ah my godess, my temptress... " burrying his face at your neck he inhales your scent "You can't imagine how much I crave for your blood... it's calling me, singing alluring to me like a Sirene..."

As his tongue laves over your neck your form trembles and a lewd moan escapes your lips. He found one of your most sensitive spots.  His grip at your body tightens. He brushes his soft lips over the spot again with a flickering of his tongue. You can feel your hips bucking at this sensation and you gasp.

"I can't... stand it, I can't resist.." Shakespeare's voice - so needy and trembling with passion.

"Bite me Will!" You blurt out.  "I beg you, please bite me!" Does this desperate voice really  belong to you?

William hesitates only a brief second, then he pushes your body down, then let his fangs sink into your delicate skin with a groan.

After a sharp but short prick waves of burning, unearthly passion roll through you over and over again.

This passion cannot be human, it sets your entire body immediatly on fire and your core clenches. You can hear Shakespeare crying out as loud as you, pressing his hips against yours. Crying and moaning you start to pass out, repeating his name like a mantra.

As you open your eyes again, William fondles with your hair, observing you with a glance so concerning and lovingly, it almost makes you cry.

"I am so, so sorry... I was too greedy.."

You smile at him. "Don't feel sorry Will, I am doing fine and... " You inhale sharp "and by all the gods,  it was.. intense..."

You can feel your desire rising up again only by the thought of what happened before.

Shakespeare watches you with an intense stare, swallowing every reaction your body shows. His fingertips brush lightly over your lips before kissing you fiercly and senseless.

Then he pulls himself away.

He pants, placing a tender kiss on top of your head "I wish to seduce my godess in an adequate ambiance. So I'll take you now home with me, making sure I fulfill every wish and dream you can imagine... " he whispers seductively as he nuzzles his face in your hair. You both hold still for a few minutes, trying to calm down again, just enjoying to embrace each other. Unable to stop smiling, tears sting in your eyes. You can't remember that you felt happier anytime in your life.

Thank you for reading! 💝

Part 2

[charming-charlie]

Like Father, Unlike Son

Title // Like Father, Unlike Son

Pairing // Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings // Mentions of absentee parents. Mentions of sex. Maybe some other little triggers, especially toward our man ☹

Summary // Buck’s parents are in town. Are you sure you want to meet them?

Word Count // 2.7k

Prompt // Hey! Hope you're doing good! I don't know if you ccurrently do requests or not or if this is where to ask for them but I have one in case you do take them. Evan Buckley x reader where his parents come to town and they are really passive agressive towards him, complaining about his work and that he's "not as nice of a boy as he used to be" but he doesn't tell them to stop. Eventually they remark on his birthmark, hitting an old insecurity and reader comforts him? Thank you for your time! <33

Author’s Note // Okay listen writing this broke my heart. Someone fix it by sending me cute little Buck gifs <3

“What are you doing?” you asked your boyfriend, firefighter Evan Buckley, as he pranced around his loft apartment. Armed with a duster in one hand and a broom in the other, you would’ve made a bet with Maddie that he was dressing as Cinderella for Halloween. It was a weird sight to see because he was cleaning. The man was actually cleaning and you could not get over it.

You took your phone out and secretly snapped a few photos of Buck. He was dusting the top of the fridge and it just occurred to you… is that an area people are supposed to clean?

This was getting more and more strange.

You sent the photo to Maddie, who instantly replied, ‘all he is missing is an apron!’ with a few laughing-crying emojis. You smiled at her response, letting your brain picture the sight of Buck prancing around in an apron, holding various cleaning tools, like some 1950s housewife. You would’ve hung onto that ridiculous thought if Buck didn’t decide to speak up just then.

“I told you. My parents are coming. This place needs to be spotless,” Buck started dusting the undersides of the kitchen cabinets and you continued watching him. Your face was scrunched up as you followed his hand movements. Did Buck ever clean like this before?

For as long as you’ve known him, he never really mentioned his parents and that was not something you wanted to ask about unless he brought it up. Maddie mentioned a few things to you, in order to prepare you for the day, but it wasn’t much. Both Buckley parents were absent in their children’s’ lives, forcing Maddie and Buck to rely on each other while growing up. This would be the first time you’ve met them, and the first time Buck has seen them in who knows how long. This was a big deal. You thought you should be the one who is nervous. This would be the first time meeting the boyfriend’s parents and you needed to make a good impression. But Buck… he was acting like the world was going to end if the spout of the kitchen sink wasn’t properly polished. He was nervous enough for the both of you. Your job, which you were trying to settle into without overthinking, was to be calm and level-headed enough for the both of you.

That still didn’t stop the butterflies from moving full speed in your stomach.

When Buck started to pull out all the Tupperware containers and begin rearranging them in a new, organized, and super unnecessary way, you decided to intervene. Standing up, you made your way to your boyfriend and you slipped your arms around him, essentially hugging him from behind. Your head rested between his shoulder blades as you just held him in a comforting way.

Buck froze for a second and you could feel how tense and stiff he was. However, he instantly relaxed in your arms, like a weight had been lifted and you could sense a grin that splashed onto his face. He turned around in your arms, facing you while you hugged him at the waist.

He was taller than you by a good foot. Even if you stood on your tippy toes, you would not reach his lips, and damn did you want to right now. It was a good thing he knew you well enough to read your mind because he was thinking the same thing. He leaned down, much to your happiness, and placed the sweetest, softest kiss upon your lips. It was perfect, the way he dangled himself in front of you, leaving you wanting more and knowing you couldn’t reach him. He teased you in a way that made you both frustrated and excited.

“I know I’m acting crazy. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you,” Buck said as he captured your lips with his one more time.

The second kiss caught you by surprised, but you welcomed it. You leaned into him and your fingers instantly tightened and gripped his white shirt. You tried to let go, knowing his pressed white shirt and black blazer were for show and he wanted to make a good impression on his parents, but if you didn’t hold onto him, you were going to melt into a puddle of goo.

Imagine Buck trying to clean that up.

You grinned into the kiss as the new image that popped into your head, but it was short-lived. There was a knock on the door, five concise raps in a row. Buck instantly pulled away, and you caught a small, tiny look of fear in his eyes. He masked it by putting on a brave face but you knew him better than that.

“Go get the door, I’ll clean this up,” you told him with a gentle smile. You firmly nudged him toward the door and Buck reluctantly went to open it. You hurriedly put all the Tupperware containers back in their original cabinet, with organization going out the window. The door opened just as you shut the cabinet door, and you turned around on your heels and leaned against the counter, trying to act calm and casual.

You could hear the greetings and see the hugs before you saw the people. Buck’s parents appeared into view, smiling at their son, who you would’ve guessed they haven’t seen in such a long, long time.

First, you saw a woman. Her hair was tightly pulled back into an updo and she dressed in a business suit, paralleling her son in a semi-formal way. Following her was an older gentleman, dressed nearly identical as Buck. Apparently, looking proper was part of the Buckley charm. You must have missed that memo, since you were wearing jeans and a nice shirt, more casual than the Buckley family.

“You must be the one my son is so smitten with,” the woman replied with a smile. She made her way across the living area and into the kitchen, pulling you into a weird and awkward one-armed hug.

“I didn’t know firefighters could afford places like this,” the older gentleman said as he looked around.

You looked at Buck, who’s smile seemed to twitch with slight offensiveness. You knew he was proud of his job and you remember telling him that he loved his job more than you. Naturally, Buck denied that but played along and said his job kept him satisfied in ways that you couldn’t. You took it as a challenge and the two of you had mind-blowingly incredible sex that night. However, you were now cursing at your brain to abandon this train of thought at the station. You didn’t need to think about your sexual life with Buck while his parents were right there.

“I’m doing well for myself,” Buck said with a proud smile.

You nodded in agreement. Buck was doing good. He had a semi-stable job, he was healthy (especially after those blood clots in his leg that gave everybody a scare), and he was happy. Life was pretty good for him, and you could see how he was taking things all in stride.

“I thought you would have made something of yourself by now, Evan.” His mother spoke up. She was standing right next to you and it took every ounce of your strength to pull yourself together and not flash her a ‘what the hell did you just say????’ look. Instead, you kept your eyes on Buck, showing an obvious emotion of confusion.

Buck was certainly caught off guard by his mother’s words and seemed to be rendered speechless when his father chimed in with agreements.

“Firefighting is not a career, you know. I thought we raised you better than that,” his father said so casually, like he was making normal conversation and not offending his son by his choice of employment.

You felt a sense of dread swirling inside. You were longing to meet Buck’s parents and now you could not wait for them to leave.

“He does a very good job as a first responder. He saved countless people. Maddie also helps. It’s pretty great seeing the two Buck siblings take on the world together,” you said, trying not to cringe at how pathetic you sounded. Buck wasn’t speaking up, which meant that you had to take the reins and defend him. He deserves to be treated better than that.

“And to go so long without a phone call, or a letter, or even an email!” Buck’s dad was rambling as he walked around the apartment, staring at how immaculate Buck tried to make it, “would it have killed you to let us know what you’ve been up to? Seems like you just dropped off the face of the earth!”

If that wasn’t disgusting enough, the laugh that Buck’s dad gave shortly after sent your blood boiling. Was he finding this funny, calling his son out like this?

“You used to be such a nice boy,” Buck’s mother said as she approached her son, “but now it just feels like you and your sister enjoy ignoring us.”

How Buck was still standing was impressive to you. If it were you, some deep-rooted anger would have shot out right now and slapped his parents across the face. Buck told you bits and pieces about his parents. They were never there growing up. Their careers were more important than their children, leaving Buck and Maddie to sort of raise each other and look out for one another. It was not an ideal situation, and it broke your heart when Buck told you. He was visibly upset when it came to sharing details about his parents and you didn’t ask further questions.

But when Buck received a phone call from his mom, saying that both mom and dad will be in Los Angeles for a conference, you saw how excited he was. Hell, he was waltzing around the apartment, cleaning and tidying things up all week, after his mom mentioned that she would stop by for a visit with his dad. What was it all for? To be continuously kicked while he was already down?

“And this thing,” Buck’s mother said as her face scrunched in disgust, “you should get this removed. You would look much more handsome.” Her hand brushed against the birthmark on Buck’s face, and Buck instantly pulled back at the touch.

If you weren’t paying attention, you would have missed the part where Buck’s father actually nodded in agreement without having said anything. Your hands were shaking, and you stuffed them into the back pockets of your jeans, trying to keep your nerves in check. These people were Buck’s parents? This is how parents act toward their children?

Buck’s jaw clenched as he inhaled deeply, sending the worst disguised smile in his mother’s direction. “I wonder what’s keeping the food. I’m gonna check, be right back.”

He left the apartment, and you immediately felt like you were swimming in awkwardness. With Buck gone, they might pick on you next, and you were not going to let that happen. Racking your brain for an excuse, you settled with a simple one.

“Shoot, he forgot to grab the money to pay for lunch. I’ll be right back,” you flashed a friendly yet passive-aggressive smile in their direction and took off after your man, who was outside in the fresh air and taking deep breaths with his eyes closed, like he needed to practice meditation in order to calm down.

“Hey,” you said, grabbing him by the arm gingerly. He pulled back quickly, and his eyes popped open, but once he saw it was just you, he relaxed. “Sorry.”

He shook his head at your little apology. “Don’t be. Are you glad to have met them now?”

There was anger laced in his voice and, while you knew it wasn’t directed at you, it still stung a bit to be talked to like that. He could see it on your face and his features melted into pure apology as he reached for your hand. You let him take it, and he slowly tangled his fingers through your own. You let silence wash over the two of you, because that was what was needed right now. Sitting through lunch with those two people was going to be hell, and you wanted no part of it, but you needed to be there for him.

“You know,” you said, leaning into him a little. You couldn’t help it; he was like a magnet that always pulled you in. “You don’t need them. You have a loving, supportive family at the firehouse. Bobby and Athena can be your new parents. They already act the part.”

Buck let out a soft, sweet laugh. The fact that he found your little quip to be entertaining was music to your ears. “You don’t regret dating me, do you?”

You stared at him, unsure if he was being sarcastic or not. The look on his face told you everything you needed to know. He was really asking. Apparently, his parents verbally beating him up made him question a lot of things. You frowned, thinking at how just a fifteen-minute conversation with Buck’s mom and dad could change almost everything about him, you, and your relationship.

“Of course not,” you responded evenly, without even having to think about it, “I love you for you. You can sometimes be dumb, you know this, but you have a true heart of gold. And honestly, Buck, you are hot as hell.”

He laughed again, this time deeper and genuine. He let go of your hand and pulled you into a sweet hug, holding you tightly against his chiseled physique. “I needed that, thank you.”

You pulled away from him just enough to look at his handsome face. “I mean it. You are perfect. Your parents haven’t seen you in years, they haven’t seen how much you’ve changed. I see you every day. I’ve seen the progression. I’ve seen the pain you went through to be who you are today, and I love you so much for it. Let’s just get through this lunch and send your parents on their way, and you never have to think about them again.”

It wasn’t the greatest speech, but it comforted him. His smile never wavered as he looked at you, soaking in the words as they left your mouth. He nodded in response, feeling a newfound sense of bravery seeping inside. “I’ll do it if you are by my side.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” you said, knowing exactly how cheesy that sounded. But you didn’t care.

Buck leaned in, claiming your lips against his own in a welcomed surprise. You went back to leaning on him, his arms snaking themselves around you as he kissed you. Your heart was beating erratically as adrenaline pumped through. Your head was slowly filling up with fog and you were losing all sense of direction. If he wasn’t holding you like he was now, you would have no way of knowing which direction was up. Everything was blurry and out of focus, and it was a state of euphoria that you loved being in.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for the Buckley residence? I have eighty dollars’ worth of Chinese food here,” someone’s voice squeaked into your thoughts, taking root much to your annoyance.

You pulled away from Buck’s lips, looking surprised. “Eighty dollars’ worth of food?” you couldn’t help but ask in shock.

“Okay listen, I was planning ahead,” Buck retorted with a smile. He shrugged like he did nothing wrong, like he was not guilty of spending so much money on a Chinese feast.

“Planning for what?’

“You and I aren’t going to leave the apartment for a couple days. The food is to help us replenish our strength.” He winked at you. Since when did he start winking at you?

“Are we working out or something?”

“Yeah, in bed.”

You slapped his arm with a gasp as he laughed and went to the deliver driver to collect the food. God, he was so good to you, and you had to smile at how happy he made you. The two of you could do this. You could both get through one afternoon with the Buckley’s because afterwards, it would be just the two of you again. No worries, no stress, no fear. You wanted that more than anything.

Despite a rocky start, you had a newer outlook on his parents. After all of this, there was one thing you knew for certain. Evan Buckley was not like his parents and you have never been prouder of him.

[remys-lucky-franc]

Remy x MC (Queen of Thieves) - Kissing Prompt #14

This is the final ‘kiss prompt’ that I have on my request list. I’m sad 😔

I’ve really enjoyed working on these - this wee challenge got me back into the habit of writing regularly which is so nice as I’d been doing ‘sit and stare at a blank page’ thing for months, thank you for inviting me to join in folks.

Prompt #14 - a kiss so desperate that that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished - requested by lovely @mcira for lovely Remy

It’s a sort of a ‘good heist goes bad’ alt-version of the ‘first ever kiss on film’ heist from Remy’s S1. Also, I relocated it to Barcelona because Paris is too inland 😂

Written from MC POV.

Word count ~6100 (marked #long fic if anyone wants to filter it away - adding ‘read more’ isn’t reliable - don’t want to clog anyone’s dash x)

TW: drowning / broken bones

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[MORE]

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I curse, scrambling to keep my balance as the yacht lists suddenly to the right; my arms flailing, thrown backwards trying to grip at the doorway to stay upright. I collide with it and stretch my hands out to save myself as I hit the ground awkwardly: the crack from my arm makes me feel sick to my stomach. Furniture shifts. Decor clatters to the floor. Lights overhead flicker violently. What the hell was that noise? Something has gone very, very wrong.

—-24 hours earlier —-

Remy and I have spent well over a month on this con now, establishing and ingratiating ourselves with the obnoxious specimen that is Parker Vos. Ugh, even his name makes my skin crawl. Tonight we’ve met up for some drinks: Parker’s idea. Remy’s positioned himself between Parker and I at the bar of the plush cocktail lounge and I watch on as Parker charges his glass again, loudly laughing, clapping his hand on Remy’s shoulder. Remy clinks glasses with him, smile jovial, eyes full of myrth; swallowing down the liquor to perfectly conceal the bile I know is steadily rising within his throat. If there is anyone who dislikes Parker Vos more than I do, it’s Remy Chevalier.

Watching Remy work a con has been quite an experience. He knows instinctively what people want to see and hear - oftentimes even before they know themselves. He reads their body language with practiced ease and plays his part to meet The Gilded Poppy’s ends: a master of assuaging insecurities or fuelling egos. And I have never known an ego like Parker’s. He’s spent half of the evening acting like Remy’s his long-lost best friend, and the other half undressing me - his buddy’s ‘wife’ - with cold, soulless eyes.

Parker’s on his feet, moving to refill my champagne flute but I move my hand to cover the top, opening my mouth in a half-protest.

He grins at me as I giggle, “I shouldn’t - I’ve had too much already-”

Tutting and moving my hand away from the opening of glass, he pours another generous serving of fizz. I make a big deal out of rolling my eyes at him and exclaiming that’s he’s ‘such a bad influence’. Inside I’m far from smiling - I hate guys who behave like this.

Parker doesn’t seem to want to let go of my hand, his fingertips trace my palm casually, an amused, self-satisfied grin spread over his face. I feel colour rising rapidly from my chest to the tips of my ears and Parker raises an eyebrow at me - clearly delighted that he’s gotten me flustered - but it’s not his touch or his gaze that’s set me alight. It’s the way that Remy’s eyes burn into me from the next seat, flecks of gold and green glitter like fire and the mask he wears is one that I can’t quite decipher, the only clue to his true feelings being the exaggerated bob of his throat as he continues to pretends he’s oblivious to the game Parker’s playing. I simper as I extract my hand from Parker’s to toast our glasses. I know Remy and I aren’t really married, but Parker doesn’t: this guy really has zero shame.

Remy’s seamlessly switched to wearing a playful smirk as he reaches across me, clinking all three of our glasses together, “Ma cherie, the bubbles are going to her head, Parker - look how flushed she is!”

His free hand reaches up affectionately cupping my cheek and I feel myself sink longingly into his gentle touch, his daring wink makes my heart stutter as Parker drones on, boasting about only ordering the very finest champagne for his friends.

A short time later, Remy excuses himself and he hasn’t even reached the bathroom before Parker has slid across to occupy his stool, angling himself into me just a little closer than could be considered appropriate. He’s such a snake, it takes all my energy to fix a sweet, naïve smile on my face when his hand comes to rest on my arm; the way his touch makes me feel compared to Remy’s is so stark in its contrast. He’s watching my face intently as he smirks at me - always bragging about his wealth and possessions, always looking for any sign that he’s impressing me.

He’s acting shocked that this is is the first time I’ve been to this particular bar, given that it’s one of Barcelona’s hot-spots, wondering out loud why my husband never brought me here before now. I sip daintily at my glass as I tell him this sort of place is generally outside of our budget, that it would only ever be somewhere that we’d come for a special occasion. As Parker nods, sacharrine-sweet condescension guising as sympathy, I think about how Remy was absolutely right when he told me he reckoned Parker gets a real kick out of feeling like the Alpha Male in any room and I lean into it. He’s back onto his favourite brand of champagne again - asking me if I ever tried it before tonight. I have, but I play along, feeding the narrative, telling him exactly what he wants to hear: Remy would be proud of me.

I shake my head wistfully, “It’s really delicious, it’s such a lovely treat to have something so decadent. I can understand it being your favourite, Parker - you have really good taste.”

He sighs, looking almost troubled, “You know it makes me sad that a girl like you can’t have everything her heart desires. I’ve got cases galore of the stuff on my yacht. I have it brought in directly from the vineyard just outside Epernay.” He pauses, quirking his head at me, “Say, have you ever been on a yacht?”

I think about what Remy’s always tells me about the best and most convincing cons: they stick as closely to the truth as possible. I feel a genuine smile blossom as I tell Parker about the little sailboat my grandfather had and how I loved spending time on it with him when I was a little girl. I can hear the warmth in my own voice and I know my eyes are sparkling as I think about those happy memories, but rather than ask me anything about my grandfather or my childhood, Parker patronises me and uses it as another opportunity to play ‘The Big I Am’. He chuckles as he tells me that wasn’t a real boat, then reels off what sounds like the manufacturer’s sales pitch for his top-of-the-range, fully customised yacht. Heaven knows, I really want to punch this guy but I nod, maintaining my rapt expression - all wide-eyed and utterly impressed. As he drones on, my brain wanders thinking how the same conversation would have gone sitting here with Remy instead.

Parker’s incessant boasting continues as he drawls about how much he would love to take me out on his yacht, “I think a girl like you would appreciate a boat like mine you know, and you’d look so good on it.”

Such. A. Creep.

I shoot him a rueful smile before biting my lip and looking down at the my hands. My fake wedding ring sparkles up at me under the low lights of the bar. I can feel Parker’s beady eyes on me watching my every move like I’m his prey. I fidget with the golden band and I know I’m working this con just right when he pushes my hair back from my face and tips my chin upward to look at him. A grin slithers across his face - poison hidden just behind the facade.

“Why don’t you come on the yacht with me this weekend, baby? You can have as much of this champagne as you like - I’ll show you how you deserve to be treated.”

I don’t have to fake being a little taken aback: I know it’s been our objective to get on that yacht, and I knew we were reeling him in, but the blatancy of his invite still knocks me off guard!

I glance towards the bathrooms and see that Remy’s making his way back across the bar. I use the shock of the invitation to my advantage, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth as I tell Parker, “Remy’s coming back.” I look up at him through my lashes and breathe, “Parker, I- I don’t know? It sounds amazing, but honestly, I’m not sure I should.”

Parker searches my dark eyes, voice smug, so confident that his charms have me falling for him; that he’s so irresistible I’d be ready to betray my husband with him, “I think you do know. You just don’t want to hurt Remy, because you’re a sweet girl. But I’ll make a deal with you, I’ll send you the directions to where she’s docked - and I’ll be there waiting. If you come...”, his thumb brushes across my lips and I draw in a sharp breath while my stomach lurches. His voice lowers as he stares at my mouth, “I’ll show you, I can give you everything you ever wanted and more besides.” Then he’s gone, quickly slithering back to his own bar stool, duplicitously clasping and shaking Remy’s hand as he returns, as though he didn’t just proposition his wife.

—-

Remy fumed about the audacity of Parker Vos the whole way back to the penthouse last night. And I thought he disliked the guy before... I’d hate to see how Remy would react if someone hit on his real wife because he is the most convincingly jealous fake-husband I’ve ever seen. And his attitude towards our mark got even worse when Parker text me with the coordinates for Port Vell Marina.

When we got back we debriefed Nikolai on all of the night’s events and came to the conclusion that me going to the yacht alone was not an option. I argued that I was more than capable of handling him but Remy was adamant that Parker was an entitled creep and it was too dangerous. Nikolai agreed with Remy, and when I huffed that he would trust Vivienne to fly solo, I have never seen him look more annoyed. He barked at me that he it was his decision, his responsibility and he refused to put any member of his team into that position alone, especially where there was no option for back up if things started to take a wrong turn. As much as I hated to back down, I knew from his tone that he was being completely honest and I should apologise and accept his decision. We spent the rest of the evening coming up with our next move - for Remy and I to arrive at Parker’s yacht together.

—-

We arrive at the beautiful Marina at Port Vell the following afternoon and I don’t have to feign how impressed I am. It is absolutely stunning - the sun dapples the turquoise blue waters while every gleaming yacht is sleeker and grander than the last.

Remy’s holds my hand firmly as we head towards Berth 26 where Parker’s imposing yacht is docked. Our play this afternoon is that I was heading out to meet Parker when Remy asked where I was going and I couldn’t think of any reason for him not to come along that didn’t seem strange or suspicious.

We reach the yacht and I see Parker. The irritate look on his face is replaced in an instant as he wraps us both in a friendly hug, before ushering us onboard. As he takes my hand to help me up the steps, he shoots me a look as though to enquire ‘why the hell aren’t we alone?’ and I drop my head like I’ve never been more deeply disappointed by anything in my life.

Remy has Parker chatting about the spec of the boat and I fear that he may never shut up about it. We spend at least fifteen minutes in the cockpit as Parker regales us with tales about how he got rid of his last captain, how he prefers to sail the yacht himself: bravado, bravado, bla bla bla. My cheeks hurt from the fake grin I have plastered across my face but I really lose the will to live as he places a captain’s hat on my head, cracking a joke to Remy about female drivers and saying that if I felt brave enough, he might even let me steer later. As we walk I ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ where appropriate, observing the ostentatious gold fixings and over-the-top ornate features and I conclude that no amount of money can buy you class.

When we eventually reach the sun deck, Remy raises an eyebrow at me, “Oh. Ma cherie, I think we may be intruding. Parker, were you expecting other company?”

I cringe as my eyes land on the biggest bunch of roses I’ve ever seen, sat next to a bottle of the same champagne we were drinking in the bar last night. I know Parker is a truly awful person, but I can’t help but feel a little sorry for him. His cheeks colour lightly, clearly having forgotten that he paid someone to set this up for him and his mouth works hard at opening and closing for a few painful seconds before his brain catches up, “Oh! Those? A ‘friend’ of mine was supposed to join me a bit before you both arrived. Then I thought we could have some drinks together, all four of us.”

Remy nods, his expression neutral, but eyes sharp, “I see. And they’re running late?”

Parker shrugs, eyes flicking to look at me as he lies, “She cancelled at the last minute. Something else came up.”

Remy wraps his arm around me making a show of planting a soft kiss on my cheek, his sympathetic words juxtaposed to the smirk apparent in his tone, “How awful, cherie! Good old Parker’s been left in the lurch. And after going to all that trouble too!”

I grimace, “I’m really sorry to hear that, Parker.”

Parker clears his throat, snatching up the champagne bottle, “Yeah. I’ll grab us some glasses.”

As he heads inside, I dig Remy in the ribs with my elbow and hiss, “What the hell was that?!”

Remy grins, his face full of mischief, “It’s obvious that I suspect there’s ‘something going on’ here”, he gestures between me and the roses, “and if he knows I’m willing to fight for you mon couer, it makes you all the more attractive to him...”

Knowing he’s right, but hating it, I pull a face.

He winks at me, “Plus, your Remy wants to have a little fun making him squirm.”

—-

We set sail a little after two-thirty, and as the afternoon progresses, it’s not just Parker who Remy is making squirm. Aside from a variety of vaguely passive aggressive jokes about being stood up and dating disasters - at one point even suggesting that I set Parker up with one of my friends, Remy is possibly the most tactile he’s ever been with me during this con: his hand is either holding mine, on my knee, or touching my face at every given opportunity. And his strategy is working because every single time Remy’s hands are on me, Parker’s eyes follow.

I know it’s all for Parker’s benefit but I just can’t help the way my heart races when Remy touches me. I have to keep telling myself it’s just for the con - all a part of his strategy. I repeat it over and over like a mantra: ‘It’s just for the con. It’s not real. It’s just for the con.’ But it feels so good. So real. And I want him so badly my chest aches.

Part of my role on today’s outing is scouting out the location of the reel of film we’re trying to steal. We’ve long suspected that it’s somewhere on the boat. So while the men continue to drink and chatter, I excuse myself and head to the restroom, getting myself deliberately lost in the labyrinth below deck. I’m fascinated by the amount of cool and interesting stuff that Parker owns despite being an uncultured jerk. I wonder if he has any genuine interest in any of it at all, or if it’s entirely for bragging rights and to impress other people. The further I wander unrestricted, the more I marvel and get to wondering just how rich Parker actually is? It’s so unfair - he deserves pretty much nothing that’s aboard this floating treasure trove... Then I see it - a can of film inside a glass case! Surely that’s got to be it? I quickly check the case, it’s pretty secure and looks like it’s inbuilt to the wall cabinet?! That means... This must be it - the first kiss ever recorded... I beam from ear to ear as I think about how excited Remy is going to be when I tell him!!

Unbeknown to me, upstairs whilst Remy and Parker stand at the railing staring out into the glittering dark blue of the Med, Remy decides to lean a little further into his role of suspicious and jealous spouse. Remy subtly turns the conversation from small talk to a grilling before Parker even realises that he’s walking into a trap, “It’s a shame your friend couldn’t make it, Parker. It would have been lovely to meet the woman who’s caught your eye... You were hoping that the four of us could have drinks together, right?”

Parker nods, sipping at his glass.

“But you didn’t know I was coming?”

Parker laughs, deflecting, “Uh, yeah! I got that wrong, I thought you were otherwise engaged. I’m so glad you could make it, buddy! It’s always great to see you!”

Remy cocks his head to the side, face still open and neutral, like he’s trying to understand, ”Sure, I’m glad I could join. But I’m confused? You were planning on the four of us drinking that champagne, oui?”

Parker clears his throat, suddenly realising that Remy might actually not be as much of a mug as he’s taken him for.

Remy continues, face visibly hardening as he speaks, “From where I’m sitting, there’s no mystery lady, and no Remy? And - well - that just leaves you and my wife sailing around the Mediterranean with a bottle of champagne and a big bunch of roses, Parker.”

Parker waves his hands in the air defensively, “Wow, Remy!! Slow down - I don’t know where you think you’re going with this, but you’ve got it all wrong! You’re putting two and two together and getting five, my friend!”

Remy huffs a bitter laugh, his voice now dripping with sarcasm, “Oh, five? So, I have it all wrong that my wife was halfway out the door to come here, to be with you, alone? Seems convenient that your lady-friend mysteriously couldn’t make it at the last minute? The one I’ve never heard you mention before? Please, explain it to me, Parker. Because it looks to me like you’ve got designs on my wife.”

Parker stutters to find an answer for a second before the yacht jolts violent throwing both men to the ground.

—-

I cradle my arm to my chest and grit my teeth as I clamber back onto my feet, nausea washing over me as I try my best not to move it again. Safe to say I don’t need a medical degree to tell me I’ve broken something.

After that god-awful metallic grinding, groaning noise everything has gone quiet. Eerily quiet. The normal lighting has gone, but the emergency lighting has kicked in casting a sickly green hue all around. I need to get back up to deck, to see what the hell just happened, to make sure Remy is ok!

I move towards the stairwell door and as I wrench it towards me, I’m met with a rush of cold water that makes me gasp. Oh this is bad. This is really, really bad. I stare at the fast-moving seawater spilling in, swirling around my feet: I’m rooted to the spot as panic rises rapidly in my chest. I’m not sure how many seconds have ticked by when I hear the roar of my name. Remy. I can’t see him, but I scramble towards the sound of his voice and call out to him, “I’m down here! Remy! I’m here!”

Water is rapidly filling the space below deck as Remy throws open the door of the opposite stairwell. I lurch towards him, sloshing through it, my limbs twice as heavy and struggling to stay upright against the slippery surface.

Remy wades through the corridor to reach me, calling to me, “I’m coming, cherie, it’ll be ok!” As we meet somewhere near the middle his hands grasp my shoulders as he gives me a quick once over, brows knit together when he sees how I’m holding my quick-swelling arm, “Merde! Is that broken?!”

I wince, nodding. The pain radiates from my wrist making my fingers tingle and my head buzz. Remy’s got one arm around me and he’s gripping at the walls with his free hand, moving us steadily toward the stairwell he came down: the water’s around my waist now. He keeps repeating, ‘it’s ok, it’s going to be ok’, but his usually calm voice jitters and I’m not sure if he’s saying it for my benefit or if he’s trying to make himself believe it. We reach the stairwell and Remy ushers me through the door. The tilt of the yacht makes it hard to climb the steps, but we fight to ascend. Up. Up. Up. We’re around half-way when the yacht jolts unexpectedly again; Remy grabs for the wet handrail. Every muscle in his body strains to keep us in place, to somehow stop us from careering back down the staircase. I feel lightheaded from the way my damaged arm jerks as he catches us, but it’s better than the alternative of plunging back down into the murky water. We resume our climb and make it up the final steps together. Only at the top do I truly appreciate the incongruous angle the yacht lists to, and start to properly grasp just how deadly this situation could be. The sounds of straining metal and hissing water fill the space around us and I’m scared. More scared than I’ve ever been in my life.


We scramble our way out across the badly-angled yacht, clinging to the side rails for purchase as we move: we need to get off this boat. It can’t end like this. In the time I’ve been below deck, dark clouds have rolled in and the rain pelts down on us. As we reach the side of the yacht, and I suck in a deep lungful of air trying to black out the pain radiating up and down my arm. Trying to steady my nerves, I tell myself, ‘We just need to get on the lifeboat, getting upstairs was the hardest part. Come on, you can do this - you can do this! We’re almost there, it’s going to be-’ But my silent pep talk is cut short and a sense of dread floods through me as I watch Remy surge around and around, a hand raking through his soaking hair as he yells,

“He’s gone! That bastard! He’s left us!”

Remy’s hanging over the side, trying to locate Parker, frantically yelling his name out into the dank, misty distance. But it’s useless - he’s long gone. Fresh panic rises as what that means sinks in: that snake abandoned us and the sinking ship. And he’s taken the only life vessel with him. A storm’s rolling in and visibility is poor. We’re miles from the coast without another boat in sight. The water this far out isn’t frigid but it’s still cool enough to catch hypothermia without the right clothing if you’re in it for a couple of hours - but we’re likely to end up in there because this yacht is going down. I’m not sure how long I could tread water for with a broken arm? I choke back my horror as I realise - I don’t think we can’t make it back. He’s left us out here to die.

Tears silently streak my face, mingling with saltwater and rain as I turn to Remy. I feel like I’m moving in slow motion, but he’s the most animated I’ve ever seen him, his hands shake and he curses as he pulls useless items out of one of the inbuilt storage benches, tossing them onto the wet deck behind him. I tug at his sleeve and rasp, “There’s no way off, is there?”

He refuses to meet my gaze, yanking his arm away from me, rummaging deeper, muttering in frustration. But I refuse to be brushed off, not now. I pull on his sleeve again, “Remy! Just, stop.”

He whirls on me, his usually smiling eyes are wild as they meet mine. And before I know what’s happening, right there on the deck of the part-submerged yacht, Remy pulls my face to his, mouth crashing desperately into mine. I gasp at the sensation of him. Rough. Passion-filled. Real. His lips spill every frenzied confession I ever wanted to hear and I’m losing myself in him; rapt in every disclosure. The surge of emotion between us swells my pounding heart and fills my soul, a choir with one refrain: he loves me, he loves me, he loves me. My body breaks into song - lyrical, a groan against Remy’s supple lips: rejoicing, dancing, dopamine-high. A million melodies, harmonies, symphonies rush through us as we cling to each other against the stormy saltwater spray. His touch is electric, flesh warm against my skin, deft fingers knotted in my hair drawing me close. Closer. So close I feel two heartbeats pulse through me like an orchestra nearing crescendo. I’m soaked, hurt and terrified, but somehow I’ve never felt more alive than I do right now, exalted in his arms. My hand grazes over the stubble of his jaw, the high arc of his cheekbone: my fingertips trace every beautiful feature, mapping every crease, every dimple. If this is our coda, if this is how it all comes to an end, I want to succumb remembering every delicious second of this kiss - every sensation, every caress, every breath, every poetic unspoken word. I want my finale to be us.

Our kiss ends breathlessly, foreheads touching: both unwilling to part. Remy’s lips hover over mine like we’re magnetised. Green eyes search my own as I gaze upon the face I love through dark lashes, trembling. I cover his heart with my palm - I never want to let him go. Seconds tick past that feel like minutes until he finally breaks away and I gulp for air. Bereft, my body aches for him.

Remy’s rifling through the storage benches again, items shoved from side to side, thrown and discarded until he shouts triumphantly, flare gun in hand! Slick hands fumble to load the cartridge, then he steps away from me, pointing the gun above his head, firing high. We watch as a plume of intense fire illuminates the sky above us, a beautiful SOS, hanging in the air before slowing making its descent to the sea.

The stricken vessel below us strains and groans as Remy grips my hand in his, “We aren’t going out like this, cherie.” He says it with such conviction and determination that my heart stutters. My eyes widen as he brandishes a life buoy at me. “There’s only one.”

Why am I not even surprised that a jerk like Parker went for 24-Carat light fittings but scrimped on the most basic of safety features and maintenance? I shake my head at Remy, fear threatens to take over, “We’re not jumping?!”

Remy exclaims, “We have to! We can’t stay on ‘til it sinks, it’s too dangerous! We need to get as far away as we can. We jump together and I promise you - I won’t let go of your hand. Ever.”

A cacophony of glass cracks and metal tears. Engineering crumbles against a backdrop of smoky neon as we huddle together at the edge of semi-capsized yacht. The rain continues to drive against us, and I understand why we have to jump, but I hate that it’s the only option. My hand fits inside Remy’s and he squeezes it tightly, my pulse racing as we count down together from three, two, one...

As we hit the cool water I cry out, pain seers through my busted arm and makes the world seem dull and frayed around the edges. Everything under water is eerily dark and silence rings in my ears as I plunge beneath the surface. In those seconds it feels strangely peaceful. Serene. My mind, so busy moments before, is a blank. An instant sedation - each nerve numb: novocaine static. It’s not until I feel Remy jerk at my hand, still firmly clasped in his, that my brain reconnects. I kick my feet and follow Remy upwards, breaking the waves, choking and gasping for air.

Remy manoeuvres the life buoy between us, urging me to take hold, his hand cupping my cheek, pushing back my sodden hair, eyes raking over me, “Are you ok??”

I cough and splutter as I nod my head at him: I’m fine. Remy doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t argue with me either. He takes charge of getting us away from the yacht and I follow him blindly, feeling dazed, clinging to the buoy. Minutes later, the yacht goes under and the rapid movement of air and water sends pieces of debris swirling perilously to the surface. A watery scrapyard bobs around us.

I feel sick and dizzy and I’m so cold that my teeth chatter. Did anyone see the flare? Is help coming?

Remy repositions himself and wraps both arms around me as we float aimlessly together. I don’t know how long passes, but every so often he says my name and jolts me to keep me awake, and honestly, I’m trying, but it’s so hard to keep my eyes open. I tell him I’m trying, but I feel so weak. Remy says I’m in shock and I mumble, “That kiss was the best shock I ever had.”

I feel the rumble of his laugh roll through me, and then his lips meet mine again. Soft this time. Slow. Tender. His affection washing over me. I feebly smile and sigh into his kiss, his comforting warmth surrounds me. His touch is like a beacon in the bleak dark water, keeping me focussed, keeping me hanging on. The situation is desperate, but at least I’m with Remy.

As time swirls past us, I drift in and out of consciousness, pulled back a final time by Remy shaking me, “Listen!! Do you hear it??”

I startle and try my best to concentrate... Then I hear it, a horn blasting. Someone’s coming! They must have seen our distress signal. Remy’s swimming as fast as he can for both of us, moving our heavy, tired bodies in the direction of the sound until we finally see it. Remy yells until he’s hoarse, waving, whistling - anything to attract their attention. As the vessel approaches, I hear rough, deep voices yelling in Spanish but my head’s too fuzzy and it’s fast for me to understand. Remy is shouting back at them to take me on board first, and before I know what’s happening, I’m being lifted - strong hands grip under my arms as I cry out for Remy. They pay me no heed: saviours in oilskins wrap me in a foil blanket, checking me over, patting my cheek and trying to get me to focus. I struggle to evade them, “Where is Remy?? You have to help him!!”

They won’t let me stand up, won’t let me move! Agitated tears blur my vision - they need to get Remy out of the water. And then I hear his voice and relief consumes me. The fishermen part to let him reach me, he’s dripping all over their deck and he looks so pale, but he’s here and we’re together. He throws his arms around me, clutching me close, face buried in my neck. We cling together, exchanging sweet words, counting our blessings and relishing the feeling of each other. A tall, thin, official-looking man wraps a second blanket around Remy’s shoulders, talking into his ear. Remy nods to him and then suddenly we’re moving below deck, to somewhere warm and dry. My good arm is around Remy’s neck, the other gentleman walks slowly by my other side, hand hovering to support me as my legs wobble. They give me a towel for my hair and large hooded sweatshirt to change into - Remy helps me and the feeling of the clean, dry fabric against my skin makes me want to weep. I sit on a makeshift bed, exhausted and sore, my head buzzing. Remy hasn’t changed into the fresh clothes they’ve left for him yet, he shivers but refuses to let go of my hand - as though he believes I might evaporate if he does.

The sailors tell us the coastguard is on their way and it won’t be long til we’re back on dry land. I can’t wait for my feet to be firmly on the ground. Remy asks the sailors for something to drink, but they refuse telling us not until we’ve seen a doctor. But Remy insists and eventually they relent, giving us both a large brandy. I swallow it down, grimacing at the taste and the burning sensation in my throat. I lie on my side, cheek pressed against a soft cushion, still shivering. I cradle my swollen arm to my chest, rising and falling as I struggle to come to terms with everything that’s happened today. Remy’s finally in dry clothes, and has crawled into the space by my side on the bunk. It’s going to take a while to process all of this, but it feels so nice to lie here with Remy gazing into my eyes, bodies close, to see him smile at me. I feel drained, but calmer now I’m near to him. I reach out and trace his features, just as I did when we kissed on the yacht a short time before; his stubbled jaw, the curve of his cheek, the little dimple that appears when he grins at me. He catches my fingers in his, and presses gentle kisses to my knuckles, to my palm, his other hand smoothing out my damp hair, “I promised you I wouldn’t let you go. We’re safe now. Your Remy’s here, it’ll all be fine mon coeur. ”

—- 24 hours later —-

Leon pats my knee affectionately as I slide into the passenger seat, “Ready to go home?”

I nod and thank him, as Remy reaches over the headrest, squeezing Leon’s shoulder, “Merci, Leon. Thanks for coming back to drive us.”

Leon meets Remy’s eyes in the rear-view mirror, brows tight, looking perplexed, “It’s no problem. I still can’t believe Parker just... Left.”

Remy shrugs, “I can. Proves he was exactly the type of person we steal from.”

I sigh and scrub my hand across my face, “Except we didn’t steal anything from him, Remy. Everything’s gone. The film, lots of really amazing sculptures and artwork - all at the bottom of the sea...”

Remy shrugs, “But you and I aren’t at the bottom of the sea, and that’s what’s really important mon couer.”

And I know he’s right, but it just seems like such a terrible waste, that’s all. I suppose it might be better that no one has all of those treasures, than Parker hoarding them all and appreciating none of them. It was all just ‘stuff’ to him, for bragging rights, nothing more. Someone so shallow didn’t deserve any of-

Leon makes me jump, chuckling while reaching across me to clip my seatbelt in, exclaiming, “What’s this?!”

I glance down and see black Sharpie ink on my plaster cast. I lift my reset arm, and tilt my head to see it properly, there are two doodled little stick-people, one with my initials, one with ‘RC’, surrounded by sweet little hearts and the words ‘je t’aime, toujours ’ scrolled below. I feel my heart leap as I take it in. My cheeks start to colour as I stammer, “I don’t know- I- When-?”

Leon’s sporting a knowing smirk at Remy’s reflection, “To commemorate your fake marriage? Because there’s no need for you two to pretend anymore, right?”

I twist round in my seat to look at Remy who simply leans forward and cups my face in his palms. His eyes gaze into mine, face open and honest - no mask in sight. He meets my lips with a warm kiss as he confirms, “I’m done with pretending.”

[fanfictiondreamscape]

Maka Comfort HCs - “Don’t Be Afraid to Talk to Me.”

Request: Hello, so i recently just read some of your soul eater content and I’ve been watching the anime a bit, so can I ask for a Maka x Reader with a friend that needs a little help, having no one to talk about their serious problems? Thanks, I just need some comfort.:)

Title: Maka Comfort HCs - “Don’t Be Afraid to Talk to Me.”

Genre: Comfort, lil bit angsty

Pairing: Maka Albarn x Platonic!GN!Reader

Notes: Hey! So, I know that this is later than it should have been (something that I don’t think I’ll ever allow myself to live down in the near future), but I thought I’d toss it out now before I start to cram homework. 

I also didn’t know if you wanted it in any specific format, so I put it into headcanons as that is the way that I feel I can portray feelings and issues like this best. It sounds bad, but emotions aren’t necessarily my strong suit and I find that, when they do hit, shorter sentences and actions do more than elaborate and extensive sentences. (I may have failed at that, though, so beware.) 

I hope that this is enjoyable, though I do know that this is late. I, again, sincerely apologize for that. 

Below the cut! 

everything was failing you this past week

seriously, everything.

your grades were slipping

you were having a falling-out with your partner and your soul wavelengths were off

your parents were forcing you to take on extra classes so you could become an amazing student at the academy

and your insecurities were coming back to bite you hard.

so, everything was failing you

the last time this happened and you tried to talk to someone, though, people just brushed you off

Lord Death didn’t, but we all know that he’s busy and the most he could have given you was a short pep talk that he used to reassure that you are an amazing student

it didn’t help, though

(you gave him props for trying, though. a good principal cares)

with those past experiences, you have just begun to shut yourself away from everyone around

whenever someone would try and offer that you go out with them to the park, or that you go to a party that DTK is throwing, you would cover and say that you had work that you needed to do

everyone noticed the change

you were never particularly crazy, but your happiness was very obviously depleted as of late

it worried to whole of the group, but maka especially

she was the first friend you made when you arrived at the academy

she welcomed you with open arms and showed you around the school

even when blackstar challenged you to a fight, she gave you pointers on how to get to him to trap him and get the upper hand

(with help of soul, of course, but she gave some really good tips)

that said, she had been the one asking if you would join them

maka, even though she wasn’t fond of basketball and would rather have her head in a book under the shade, was persisting that she would play with you if you came

and after you had bailed for the umpteenth time in three weeks, she knew she had to jump in to action

she and soul went to your apartment and, under circumstance that she let him know if she needed anything, soul left for the park and maka stayed with you

“hey, y/n, it’s maka. can i come in?”

you didn’t move from your spot, though you were tempted to say something back 

(if she’d hear it, you wouldn’t care, but you just...didn’t) 

“y/n? please, i want to help you.”

still sitting. still quiet.

she had to plot something, and if this had to be the way, she’d do it.

“i’ve got your favorite movie and some candy here. we don’t have to talk, i just want to know if you’re okay.”

that is what got you

you could never say no to your favorite movie with your best friend.

so you sluggishly got up.

once you opened the door she made eye contact with your dull, blood-shot, and sunken eyes and she almost burst into tears

but she had self-control.

so she waited until you stepped out of the way to enter and set the items down on the nearest clear surface (the coffee table in the living room)

you only had to see her open arms when you looked over at her and you nearly burst into tears

but you held them back long enough to accept her invitation to hug her.

you started crying when you made contact with her

“tell me what’s going on when you’re ready, okay? i’ve got all day.”

so you did.

when your tears subsided for a short amount of time, you spoke.

“everything is going wrong.”

“my grades are slipping, my partner and i can’t work through this argument that we’re in so we can’t fight together, and my parents are throwing more and more crap onto my shoulders. i can’t even look at myself in the same way anymore.”

she just held you quietly, rocking back and forth as you gripped her tee

she let you cry what else you had in you before leaning away and wiping your tears away with a tissue 

(she found a box under the coffee table)

you let her wipe them away, a gentle look on her face

“hey, listen to me.”

you nodded, loosening your grip on her and setting your hands in your lap softly.

“you are one of the most intelligent and capable people i know. just because your grades are low now doesn’t mean that they will be within the next month.”

another tear, and another tissue.

“if you need it, i can help you, you know.”

“your parents, on the other hand, just want the best for you and they want you to succeed. but they don’t realize that this isn’t the way to do it. i’m sure if you tell them what you’re feeling, they’ll loosen up a little bit.”

you were lucky there, then. this was the only thing that they enforced and encouraged that rubbed you wrong.

“as for your partner, you need to talk to them. i can’t promise that anything will work immediately, but you and them work great together when you are together. you two understand each other well, and this is only a bump in the road.”

you took it in. 

“and finally, you are easily the most trustworthy, loving friend that anyone could ask for. you are gorgeous, you are intelligent, you are strong, and you are amazing with all of your so-called flaws.”

after settling, you were only sniffling, but you still found your voice

“thank you, maka.”

“don’t mention it! you always set aside time for me when i need it, so why wouldn’t i do the same for you? besides, you don’t have to be afraid to talk to me if you need to.”

you smiled, though meek, and settled further into the couch.

“now, how about that movie?”

you laughed, remembering the items she brought with her

“you brought popcorn, too?”

“yup, now, how about i go pop this popcorn and get some drinks and we can watch that movie, hmm?”

“sounds good to me, albarn.”

[sprnklersplashes]

power of three

canon divergence where cady is not a plastic, and goes to janis’ art show instead (ao3)

It’s a strange feeling, all these eyes on her. 

The room is packed, people swirling around in all directions, conversations fading in and out of earshot. There’s a glass in her hand (lemonade, of course) and people she vaguely recognises coming up to shake her free one, congratulating her on getting this far. She blushes slightly, thanks them and takes a sip of her drink to keep herself from passing out. Rinse and repeat, over and over, for what feels like an hour, but when Damian grabs her by the elbow and pulls her out, it turns out it had been five minutes.

It’s not bad, all this attention, not when it’s praise rather than damnation. When people come up to her with admiration in their eyes, rather than scorn. She’s just not very used to it.

“Thank you,” she breathes into Damian’s ear. He chuckles and loops his arm so that her hand rests on it, like they’re a married couple at some gala far more pretentious than this. She chuckles, and what’s more she can lean on him now. Keeping herself upright is suddenly far less of a challenge.

“Well, it looked like you were either going to explode if one more person came up to you,” he explains as they weave in and out of the crowd. “And funny as that would be, I think you’d need to be in tact when they give you your prize.”

“Oh shush you,” she replies, hoping her feigned nonchalance covers the prickling insecurity in her gut. Maybe it would, if it was someone other than Damian. “Besides, I don’t need to win. Getting to the finals is more than enough for me.” The words feel false on her tongue, and even more so when Damian raises his eyebrow, a silent signal meaning you’re talking bullshit and you know it. She stands her ground for a total of three seconds before she sighs and looks into her half-finished glass. “I don’t want to get my hopes up, is all.”

“Well too bad,” Damian replies. “Because my hopes are all riled up.” He nudges her with his shoulder, and she manages a smile then. “I mean it. They’d be crazy not to pick you. If they do, I’m filing a lawsuit.”

“You do that.” She turns and takes in her surroundings, mainly the other paintings on the walls, and the confidence Damian instilled in her dips a little. When her art teacher told her to fill out the application, she did so mainly to please her. She’s never really been interested in putting her art up to be judged. For her, that would be like ripping a page out of her diary and publishing it in the school newsletter. But she did it anyway, not expecting to get past the application stage. But she did, evidently, and then she got past the second round and the third, each time feeling like there must have been some mistake. Because now she’s looking at the other works on the walls, mostly made by real artists who go to real art schools, and she’s not sure how she’s meant to compare here.  

“You seen Cady yet?” she asks, ripping her gaze away from the other paintings. Damian shakes his head and checks his watch before the two of them scan the room, searching for caramel coloured curls or a funky-coloured flannel. “She has the right address, right?”

“Yeah,” he replies. Janis nods and takes a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. There could be a hundred reasons as to why Cady hasn’t showed up yet, right? After all, it’s a new city and she still doesn’t know it very well, or maybe she’s running late, maybe her tutoring Aaron went on longer than expected. Maybe she couldn’t get out of the thing with her parents after all. She did text ‘sorry, running late, be there as soon as I can’ about ten minutes ago, so that means she’s coming, right?

“Hey,” Damian’s voice whispers in her ear, his hand on her back as if she’s about to fall. “Don’t worry about it. She’ll be here. And if she isn’t, I’ll shove her into a locker myself, K?”

She nods, even though it’s shakier than it ought to be, and turns, her mouth open to reassure both him and herself, but something catches her eye. Something, or rather someone, coming through the door, with all the grace and care of a small hurricane. Someone smaller than her with wide eyes and caramel coloured curls and… a blue flannel.

She can breathe again.

“Caddy!” She waves her over, mindful of the drink in her hand and Damian beside her, and her friend hurries over to her, forgoing a handshake in favour of wrapping her in a brief but tight hug. “You made it.”

“I did,” they sigh. “Sorry, I’m late, I grossly misjudged how far away this place was and it was my first time taking the bus on my own.”

“It’s okay,” she replies. “I mean really, it’s fine.”

“Public transportation is a nightmare in this city,” Damian chimes in. “Glad you made it, little slice.” Cady squeals and hugs him too, stretching up on their toes and wrapping their arms around his shoulders. Damian grins, his joy so bright it’s hard to believe he was plotting their hypothetical revenge on Cady not seconds earlier.

She knows he’d have never gone through with it.

“Let’s go get you a drink,” Damian says. “Unfortunately, we can’t go up to the bar unless you managed to sneak in a fake ID.”

“I didn’t, sorry,” Cady laughs.

“Don’t worry about it,” Janis says as she hands her a lemonade. “Alcohol is far overrated anyway. We wanted to wait for you before we got food too.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”

“We know, we’re just awesome people,” Janis says as she and Damian lead Cady to the food table. It’s all little snacks mainly-tiny hot dogs, mini quiches, little finger sandwiches, and Cady is amazed by them. 

“They’re so cute!” they exclaim as they load another sandwich onto their already-sagging paper plate. “It’s like little doll food!” Janis and Damian’s eyes simultaneously grow wider as they watch; this tiny girl who can apparently wolf down more than they can combined. Cady just smiles, brighter than any lamp in the room, and Janis feels compelled to smile back.

Cady’s funny like that. 

“Okay, come on, kiddos,” Damian says, grabbing Cady by the hand and nodding for Janis to follow. The twinkle in his eye tells her everything she needs to know about what he plans and her cheeks grow warmer as she follows them. “We want to get a good seat for this.”

She ducks her head, her hair falling infront of her face like a curtain, but behind is one of the warmest smiles she’s ever known.

“I feel kind of underdressed,” Cady remarks, their eyes scanning the crowds. They pull on their shirt, the gesture seemingly subconscious. “I didn’t know how fancy this was going to be. Maybe I should have dressed up a little.”

“Oh you’re fine.” Janis waves her hand dismissively. “It’s not that fancy.” She feels a little hypocritical here, after all, she was the one who went out and bought herself a new jacket especially for this event, but she stands by what she said. Cady looks fine. “You clearly have your formal flannel on anyway.”

Cady bursts out laughing at that, earning a confused look from some passers-by. That only makes the two of them laugh harder, their snickers hidden behind their hands. It stings for a moment, because that gesture is so closely associated with Regina in Janis’ mind, but it’s brushed aside as Cady links their arms together. Janis breathes out. Regina isn’t even here, and she has no place in her friendships. Not anymore.

“Thanks so much for inviting me, Janis,” Cady says. 

“Hey, no problem, Caddy,” she says. “You’re one of us now. Which means you get dragged to my art shows and Damian’s drama club performances.” Cady giggles at that. “And then to make it fair, you get to drag us to your Mathlete contests and everyone wins.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Cady says. 

Something blossoms in Janis’ chest, something new and exciting. For so long it had just been her and Damian and she was fine with it. More than fine. But when she said what she said to Cady, you’re one of us now… she was saying that there was an us to be a part of. That they aren’t loners anymore. That… that she isn’t. That she can let people in now. 

She wonders how that little 12 year old girl would react if she told her.

“Are you okay?” Cady asks. Janis blinks, her breath coming out in a quick gasp, and she takes a drink to cool her warm cheeks. Cady stands beside her, not overly concerned, but not oblivious either. They squeeze Janis’ hand, their eyes gentle and kind, and Janis tries not to get emotional. Again.

“Fine,” she tells them. “Just nervous.” It’s not entirely a lie. Her eyes meet Damian’s over Cady’s head and he sees right through her, because of course he does. She doesn’t mind though, not one little bit. Because she knows he’s thinking the same thing.

Strange, she thinks, how quickly this little jungle freak infiltrated their tight-knit friendship. She smiles and lets Cady rest their head on her shoulder. Strange, and she loves it.

                                                                          ******

It’s way past dark when Damian’s scooter pulls up outside Janis’ house. Her hair is tangled from the ride home, her back aching a little after having spent the better part of 30 minutes leaning over Damian, but she’s far too happy to care. In fact, it’s one of those rare instances where she can’t find it in herself to care about anything; school, her friends, her future, or the weather. All that matters is her and Damian, and the jokes they’re sharing, and the painting sitting in the jazzy’s front basket. That’s her world right now, and it’s all she needs.

She’s still laughing as she jumps off the jazzy, the cheeks-hurt-can’t-breathe kind of laughter, and Damian follows, making sure to double check all the breaks before he hops off. She goes to lift her painting but he holds one hand in front of her face and grabs it with the other, tucking it beneath his arm instead. She rolls her eyes, but it’s for show. There’s a proud smile on his face, the twinkle in his eyes evident even in the dark, and he stops to grab her hand before they head inside.

“Have I told you how proud I am yet?” he asks her.

“Only a hundred times,” is her reply, and she gives his hand a grateful squeeze.

“Can I say I told you so yet?”

“Only if I can kick you in the shins afterwards,” she says firmly, only for the two to burst out laughing as she turns the key in the lock.

The hallway is far warmer than outside and Janis can’t not sigh in relief when she enters. She takes off her jacket and hangs it up and Damian does the same. Her mom told him back when they were twelve to “make himself at home” and he’s never stopped doing so. They head into the kitchen, following the sound of low chatter and the muted lights. It doesn’t surprise her that her parents beat them home; even if she hadn’t already seen the car parked in the drive, she knows that car beats jazzy every single time.

What does surprise her, however, is the sight of Cady sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea from her Eyeore mug, and making polite chithcat with her parents. 

They had offered Cady a ride on the jazzy, Janis even demonstrating how they would both fit on safely, but Cady had politely declined, insisting on riding their bike instead. Janis had relented, seeing there was no convincing them re: the scooter, and wrote down detailed instructions on how to get to her place and also telling them to call if they got lost. Even with those precautions, Janis wasn’t convinced Cady would make it, and was expecting her phone to vibrate on the way home.

But no. Here’s Cady. Sitting at her table like they’ve done it before. Like it isn’t the first time.

Their eyes find Janis’ as she walks in, and their face breaks out into a relieved smile. Janis hides a smile of her own, a small tug of sympathy in her chest. Cady is sweet, and she loves her parents, but she’s also sure there’s only so many conversation topics one can have.

“You’re back!” her dad announces, half-turning in his seat. “How was the scooter?”

“It was fun,” she says. “We got yelled at by these college kids.”

“Oh don’t tell me that,” her mom sighs. “Really, Damian, I’m surprised your mom let you ride that thing at night.”

“She said as long as I wear a helmet, everything’s fine.”

“I see. And did you?” her mom asks. Damian stops then, his mouth pressed into a thin line, and that’s enough of an answer. Her mom rolls her eyes, but it’s a fond gesture, and she chuckles warmly under her breath.

“At least Cady wore a helmet,” she says, gesturing across the table. “Maybe they’ll be a good influence on you.”

“Or we’ll corrupt them and turn them dark,” Janis jokes, winking over at them. Cady smiles softly, their cheeks turning pink. “One way to find out.” She heads over and pulls up a chair beside Cady, their elbows bumping on the table. “Sorry we left you hanging here on your own.”

“It’s fine,” they reply. “Got talking with your parents.”

“And I think that’s our cue to leave now,” her mom says. Her dad nods and finishes up his coffee before rising from the table, stretching his arms over his head. “You kids have fun, okay?”

“But not too much fun, I still want this kitchen intact when I get back.”

“No promises, Dad,” Janis grins. Her dad raises a playful eyebrow at her, meanwhile her mom counts on her fingers, ticking off her mental checklist. 

“Okay, so the pizza menu’s in the drawer, money’s on the counter, we’ve got the living room set up and we’re just upstairs if you need anything,” her mom says. 

“Thanks Mom.”

“Thanks Laura,” Damian adds, at the same time Cady says “Thanks Mrs Heron.” They shift slightly, only noticeable to those sitting next to them, and Janis threads her fingers through Cady’s, hopefully letting her know she’s just as welcome here as Damian is. Cady smiles softly in return and runs her thumb over Janis’ knuckles. 

“Alright, have a good night kids,” her dad says. “We’re off to watch boring nature documentaries on Netflix like adults.”

“Maybe you are,” her mom adds, tapping his chest. “I’m finishing my mystery novel.” Janis chuckles, warmth fluttering in her chest. Her parents might be, well, parents, but damn she loves them.

Even more so when her dad pokes his head around the door and says “Janis… I’m so proud of you.” Sure, her cheeks burn in front of her friends, but a grin spreads across her face at the same time. Her parents are the best, and she’ll fight anyone on that. 

Not twenty minutes later they’re sitting in the living room, all clad in their pyjamas, the room lit solely by lamps. Janis made sure to bring down as many extra blankets and pillows as she could, ensuring there could be no spot that wasn’t cosy. Three pizza boxes sit in the middle of the floor, each one a different level of demolished. Damian ordered Hawaiian, partially because he knew it would drive Janis crazy, and poor Cady got pulled into the ongoing ‘pineapple on pizza’ debate, something they had apparently missed out on while chasing lions in Kenya. Lucky they have them, then.

“It’s a fruit, and fruits do not belong on a pizza,” Janis says, standing on her couch for the full effect. “I will have pineapple on a lot of things. In a salad. In a cake. In my conditioner so that I always smell like a tropical paradise. But pizza is not one of those things.Thank you for coming to my TED talk.”

“Counter point,” Damian replies. “Tomato is a fruit, and there is tomato sauce on every pizza in existence.”

“Counter-counter point, tomato is an acceptable fruit for pizza, pineapple isn’t.”

“Coutner-counter-counter point, who are you to decide which fruits are acceptable?”

“Counter-counter-counter-counter point, I’m cute,” she says. 

“Cannot argue with that,” Damian replies, leaning back on the couch. “Caddy, be our tiebreaker please?” Janis pouts, suspecting he’s only relenting so he can eat more pizza instead, but it’s a victory and so she takes it.

“I’m amazed neither one of you have gone out for debate team,” Cady says, who had been watching the argument with their head bopping back and forth. They sit with one of the blankets wrapped around them, their chin resting on their knees. They scrunch their face up slightly, their gaze shifting from Janis to Damian and back again, and a mischievous grin forms on their lips. “But… I am ultimately sold on Janis’ point of view, sorry Damian.”

“I am flabbergasted,” Damian sighs, throwing himself back on the couch. He throws his hand against his forehead, the perfect picture of the fainting Victorian maiden. Suitably dramatic, of course. “Horrified. Betrayed. Ultimately humiliated. My honour has been squandered.”

“You never had honour to begin with,” Janis quips as she jumps off the couch. She settles herself beside Cady, pleasantly surprised when they open up the blanket and drape it around her shoulders. She scoots a little closer until their knees touch, and her smile widens.

“Okay losers, what movie are we making Caddy watch?” Damian asks. “I’ve got Sound of Music, Chicago, Cabaret and if we’re not feeling like a musical tonight, we have Heathers, The Bee Movie, Night at the Museum and Legally Blonde.” He takes out each movie and displays it on the floor, sitting in front of Cady like jewellery in a cabinet, and their eyes grow slowly wider.

“Is the Bee Movie just a movie about bees?” they ask, their nose scrunched up.

“Yes and it’s a masterpiece,” Janis replies. “It explores the depths and complexities of human sexuality, the insidious reality of our capitalist society and what it means to truly love someone.”

Cady nods slowly but skeptically, and their hand passes over the DVD. Janis makes a mental note to work on her Bee Movie pitch. Damian shrugs sympathetically, a silent well, you tried in his eyes.

“What about this one?” Cady asks, holding up Heathers.

“Hell yeah,” is her answer. It’s a personal favourite of Janis’, and yes a little bit of a fantasy, not that she’d ever go as far as Veronica did. She taps Cady’s shoulder and pulls herself up.  “I’ll go get the popcorn ready.”

“Why don’t I give you a hand?” Cady asks, already jumping to their feet. Janis jumps a little, taken aback by her new friend’s enthusiasm.

“Um… okay, sure,” she says. “Damian, can you set up the movie?” 

“On it, kids,” he replies. “Go make me a shitton of popcorn.” Janis leads Cady out of the living room, half holding their hand, and into the kitchen. If Cady feels the same awkwardness she does they do a good job of hiding it, caramel curls bouncing around their shoulders as they almost skip after Janis. 

“Hey can you grab some bowls for me?” she asks as she grabs popcorn out of the cupboards. “There’s some really big ones in the back of this cupboard here.” Cady nods and whisks around her kitchen, quick as the little lions they love so dearly, and emerges with three brightly coloured plastic bowls. Janis grins, especially at the size of them. “Amazing.”

“You know, back in Kenya, my mom would make popcorn for us sometimes, too,” Cady tells her.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. But instead of watching movies at night we’d sit outside and watch the animals roaming around.” Janis turns and catches the wistful look in her new friend’s eye. She almost sees it in her own mind, the kitchen floor transforming into a quiet, moonlit jungle. “But we’d be wrapped up in our blankets and sitting in our chairs and we knew we’d be safe. They weren’t pets but were our animals. And it was different every time.”

They duck their head then, hair falling in front of their face as a quiet, shaky breath escapes them. Janis rests her hand on their shoulder, drawn closer to the little jungle kid. 

“You must miss it there,” she whispers. “Africa, I mean.”

“A bit,” Cady confesses. “Sometimes.” They don’t cry, but their voice is thin and strained, and it’s not unfamiliar to Janis. “But I wanted to come here for years. And I’m glad I did. So...” Their voice trails off and Janis can only wince in sympathy as she runs her hand in circles around Cady’s shoulder. They pause, taking the moment together, and Cady leans closer to her until their head rests on her shoulder. A smile graces their face, small but so bright. “Thanks.”

“No problemo,” she replies. Just in time, the microwave goes off and the two open the door to steaming warm popcorn. They shake it out amongst the three bowls, both secretly adding stragglers to their own even if they’ll share with Damian later. Cady balances two in their hands while Janis tidies up after them and switches off the light. They step into the dimly lit hall and are just about to head to the living room when Janis stops suddenly, a new sense of strength creeping in. The last time she felt like this was when she was twelve, and was looking over at Damian on a similar night. Like something is locking in her heart, and she’s deciding, yep, we’re definitely keeping her. 

“Hey, Caddy?” she asks in a low voice. Cady turns, her eyes wide, and Janis feels herself soften. “I’m really glad you came tonight too.”

Cady grins, a kind of breathless gratitude on their face and goes to hug Janis, only to laugh and remember the popcorn at the last minute.

Janis hugs them on the couch to make up for it. 

Damian doesn’t mind, especially not when Maxie decides he wants to join the party too and cuddles up with Damian on the chair. Janis mumbles something about a “traitor dog” before slipping right back into the movie, quoting it word for word like it’s a second language. Cady raises their eyebrows, seemingly impressed by her ability, and Janis simply shrugs.

“It’s a gift,” she tells them. “Wait and see kiddo, soon we’ll have you quoting this movie off by heart.”

“How very,” Cady replies, and the three of them burst into late night giggles.

They put on Legally Blonde next, another classic Cady hasn’t seen. Cady even talks about how excited they are for it, but before Warner has even broken up with Elle, Janis looks down to find Cady curled up in a ball next to her, fast asleep. Janis  pulls the blanket over her, a rush of protectiveness flowing through her as she does so. It makes sense, she supposes. Cady is one of them now after all. They protect their own.

“Hey,” Damian’s voice comes as a loud whisper from across the room. He’s almost asleep himself, his hand slowly running through Maxie’s fur. He lazily points over at Cady, a crooked smile on his face. “You were right.”

Janis blinks in tired confusion until she realises what he’s referring to; that first day in French class, where Cady had so desperately tried to think of their ‘French name’. When Janis had leaned back in her chair and dropped a note on Damian’s desk. 

“We’re adopting them. That’s our new child” it had read and they went into that bathroom that day and never looked back.

“Yeah.” She turns to say something else, but finds Damian asleep too, Maxie curled up in his lap. Unlike Cady, he had no problem pulling the blanket over himself. She chuckles softly, the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. It’s his house too after all.

She gets up slowly, careful not to disturb Cady, and turns the movie off. They can watch it tomorrow morning after all. She settles down on the couch, right beside Cady again, and pretends that her eyes aren’t blurry. 

As she looks around the room, she finds her prize winning painting propped against the wall, and her cheeks flush at the sight. It had been a vague idea in her mind for a while, but when her teacher had told her to “draw from the heart”, it was the first contender. It’s silly and it’s cliche and it’s sappy; all the things she pretends she isn’t. But it’s also the most authentic piece she’s ever created, and that’s why she loves it so much. It’s all the bits of herself she used to be scared of, sitting on a canvas for all to see. The parts that are open and loving and unafraid. Creating it may have been scary, but the rewards go beyond the prize she won.

It occurs to her, in her fuzzy, half-asleep mind, that maybe that’s the reason it won. Maybe she should try it again sometime.

[essentially-writes]

Do we fall apart?

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader (f)

Genre: Oneshot; Angst; slight fluff; melodramatic (?)

Length: 1,628

Warnings: swearing; kissing; alcohol/drinking/clubbing; slow burn

A/N: this is my first time writing angst and one-shot! I tend to write series that I never finish so I thought I’d challenge myself with more oneshots. Inspired by ‘Good Things Fall Apart’ by ILLENIUM, Jon Bellion

disclaimer: the characters in this work are fictional and its content does not reflect any real events.

The summer air was thick and humid, cigarette smoke lingered all around the street lined with clubs and bars, busy with loud chatter and muffled music from the different establishments.

“Hey, are you getting the taxi with us?” she looked at her friends gathered in a bunch, hair matted to their faces from the sticky heat inside the club they had all just stumbled out of.

“No, you guys go ahead” she replied, waving a hand to catch a separate car. The street was lined in an organised chaos of orange taxis awaiting the club-goers to filter out.

The girls shrugged, perhaps they had noticed after-all that she had been acting off all night. Soon enough she got herself in a car and directed the driver back to her flat, letting out a breath she hadn’t noticed she was holding, she searched her bag for her phone.

1.29am.

1.30am. *ping*

“Where are you? Come meet me by the river bank.” 

Another sigh, she squeezed her eyes patiently and re-opened them again, asking the driver to change the route.

The air was cooler by the river, a breeze brushing by her exposed neck to the back of her head giving her a slight shiver, sobering her up even more than the short night drive had already done.

She walked down towards the bank, hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, the chains on her boots jingling at the pace of her steps.

At the bottom, leaning on the railing of the riverbank, she spotted a slender male figure, wearing a black bucket hat, a navy and white windbreaker and matching basketball shorts.

The figure looked tired, shoulders slouched, head hung down. He lifted his head and looked up at the clear moonlit sky, mixed with the city lights and the blinking of cars running past the overhanging bridge.

He stayed like that for a few seconds more, and just as she finished the stairs, he turned around, searching the area for passers by, finally spotting her.

“Y/N, babe!” he called out, she lifted her hand to acknowledge him, still in the pocket of her jacket.

He noticed her reluctant steps, dragging her slowly towards him, and she wasn’t looking at him, instead her eyes low trained on the pavement as she closed the distance between them.

“What’s w-” his concern quickly disappeared, “have you been drinking? You stink!”

He couldn’t hide the disgust and annoyance in his voice, even if his features were covered by the black mask he was wearing.

His sharp eyes watched her expectantly, taking in her short outfit, the gold hoop earrings and the fading of her heavy make-up, he already knew the answer, he just needed to hear it.

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice slightly hoarse, “we were in Hongdae, it was Mina’s birthday.”

“Did you have to go looking like that?” he spat the words with the sound of a brewing fury. Perhaps he didn’t mean to do so, his expression was still hidden and her eyes still avoided his, but the words stung right where she had this heavy weight upon her chest.

Perhaps she didn’t mean to either, she could only react to fire with fire, her shouting was sharp and pointed.

“Looking like what?! What exactly do you want to say Doyoung?? Tell me, what do I look like to you?!”

“What the fuck is your problem?! You’re the one showing up drunk and stinking of alcohol and sweat, dressed like a-” he hesitated.

“I DARE YOU TO SAY IT! I DARE YOU!” her face was red now, her breath was fast, chest puffing up and down. Finally she was looking straight at his eyes, dark and wide, checking all around for other late night strollers.

They remained silent, the heated tension keeping them from their next words. The one who spoke first might be the one to make the first mistake.

She turned around to sit on the large concrete steps usually occupied by visitors watching the river flow, perhaps during a break in their walk or a stop for a spot of lunch in the sun.

The cold concrete was a sharp contrast to her heated body, she could feel the rough edges and dirt on the back of her thighs as she sat. Elbows on her knees, she rested her head on her hands, tears escaping down to her chin.

Doyoung stood still for a moment, feeling indignant at the situation. He’d had such a crappy long day, things had been so frustrating with work; he barely had time to eat and catch up with sleep between his schedules and so when he finally finished for the day, he wanted to see her, even just for a few moments to get some consolation. He did not expect to have his girlfriend show up, after a week of not seeing her, drunk and less than welcome, much less screaming at him in the middle of the night.

He joined her by her seat a moment later. Her tears had already cleared up, a small sniffle barely audible before she spoke again.

“You know, if it’s so difficult to be with me, maybe we should let this go.”

“What?! What are you talking about Y/N?” Whatever annoyance, anger or any other feelings he had before were gone. His voice was in panic, his head now rushing to understand the words.

“I- I just think I’m no longer good enough. I’m not good enough for this relationship.” Tears threatened to fall again.

He turned to her and held her hands in his, leaning close and searching her eyes, he pleaded,

“Y/N please, tell me what’s wrong. What’s gotten into you?”

“He didn’t deny it” she thought fearfully, taking in a breath to gather courage to speak again.

“I’m either a bad friend for lying to my friends about being single and then not hanging out and going out clubbing with them, or I am a bad girlfriend to you if I do and don’t show up at your beck and call in the middle of the night.” She shook her head gently, “I don’t know if I can keep this up.”

Meeting and dating Doyoung had been a dream, he was her perfect man. He was sweet and bashful when they had first met. She was so captivated by his laugh and smile, and the way he looked at her from across the table at the wrap up party. She made the first move, knowing full well he was a famous idol but you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take and she had nothing to lose in letting him know she was interested in him. They got to know each other over the next project, finding excuses to sit one to one, pretending to talk about work in the café of the office.

Their first private date had been a car date. She was excited and full of butterflies, her nerves causing an uneven breath as she thought about kissing him for the first time. And sure enough, it was as magical as she had imagined it would be. Doyoung leaned over to reach his hand around her neck, brushing her hair away and settling his warm hand at the back of her neck, pulling her in gently towards him.

His eyes were dripping in want as he watched her gulp nervously, licking his lips subtly he leaned in further and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss felt soft and hot, parting and pressing for more, their feelings for each other exchanged in the gentle suckling of each other’s lips. It felt heavenly in Doyoung’s arms.

As time passed, their time spent together fluctuated between as frequently as daily to as far apart as a month in between. They had worked through it, but almost a year later, it seemed that it was finally taking its toll.

She tried to move her hands out of Doyoung’s only for him to hold on tighter.

“No, Y/N, no, it’s me. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry you have to feel that way, I’m sorry I can’t give you a normal relationship.” He kissed her hand as the tears ran down her face again.

“But I need you Y/N. I need you to make my days worth it, I need you in my arms, to smile for and laugh with. Isn’t it the same for you?”

“It doesn’t have to be me”, her insecurities revealing themselves.

“It does. For me, it has to be you.” Doyoung used his fingers to gently lift her face so that they could look each other in the eyes. His thumb stroked lightly across her cheek, rubbing away the tear stains. With his other hand, he removed his mask, his plump pink lips were dry in a slight pout.

“Y/N, I love you. I mean it, and I promise to do better. Okay?” His gaze had softened, his expression neutral, waiting for her response.

She was taken aback. Though she expected he would resist and deny her before really giving things a deep thought, she hadn’t expected his first “I love you” to be delivered right then and there.

And though she knew it would be hard to change things, she also knew he was right. She needed him too, she needed to be his and she liked wanting him too.

On a night like this, she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms, she had missed him so much she’d mistaken it for being frustrated at him.

She looked back at him, leaning into his hand feeling the warmth of his skin against hers and she nodded slowly.

“I love you too Doyoung. I need you too.”

[wongxiexie]

Discard

Pairing: Byun Baekhyun x Reader Genre: Angst Word Count: 2.003 words Warnings: Just a very brief mention of sex Note: The photo’s from EXO’s website. 

His touch burns you.

The spot where he grips your wrist hurts not because of the pain from his tight hold, but from the mere contact of his skin on yours. The hands that used to bring you sparks and fireworks bring you now only pain and uncertainty, insecurity and dejection.

Once, there was a time when just a mention of his name sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach -- after all, Byun Baekhyun was that - giddiness, excitement, butterflies and rollercoasters. It used to be a good kind of nervous whenever you were around him, but now? Now you only know fright about what things you will need to question again because of his actions.

Is it your fault? Do you assume things? Are you needy? Are you unbearably clingy? Do you embarrass him? Are you together? Is he just being nice? Do you make his actions out to be something that they’re not?

If you start listing all your questions down, you will confidently bet your apartment, car, degree and life that you won’t be able to finish writing them within a day. Each question just elicits even more questions when you try to answer them and instead of reaching proper conclusions, you always end up with even worse uncertainty than before.

You were raised in a wonderful environment and you grew up knowing your own worth while still maintaining what you think is proper humility, but the years you spent fostering that right mindset all came crumbling down the instant he decided to play with you and your feelings.

… but wait, is he leading you on? Or did you just assume?

There go the questions again.

The sound of the party is becoming more and more like white noise the farther Baekhyun drags you away from the house. You want to stop and just scream at him in frustration but admittedly, there is a part of you that is a tiny bit hopeful about this concern he seems to be expressing.

When you are about two blocks away from the alcohol and music, he halts and you almost bump into him with how sudden he stopped walking, but luckily you get your wits enough at just the right time.

You want to talk, you really do. There are so many things you want to say to him and even more things you want to  ask him about but you remain silent. It’s rare for him to pull you for a private talk when there are people around, so you don’t want to scare him away with what is sure to be a nonstop barrage of queries about where you stand with him.

You just want confirmation and affirmation, is that so difficult to give?

He turns towards you and you are surprised to see the frustration that is apparent on his face. Lithe fingers run through his hair as he paces in front of you, seemingly deep in thought about how to formulate what he wants to say.

“You…” he starts, breathless and shaking his head in disbelief. He stops walking and looks at your eyes. “Just what do you think were you doing with Chanyeol?”

A gasp escapes you and you bite you lower lip to physically prevent yourself from yelling at him.

“Me?” you say with a scoff. “What did I do with Chanyeol, huh, Baekhyun?”

You raise your brows at him, challenging him to say out loud whatever stupid thing he thinks will justifiably warrant his anger.

“You were--” he gestures his hands around, clearly irritated about the whole ordeal. His brows are furrowed and his lips look almost curled to a sneer. Heaving a disbelieving sigh, he scoffs back. “He was all over you! You were practically fucking each other back there in front of all those people!”

“We were just dancing--”

“What, you’re so desperate for a fuck that you’d just whore yourself out to any guy that--”

He feels it before he can register what you did. Next thing he knows, his head is forced to the side as his left cheek throbs in pain. 

You had just slapped him, he realizes belatedly, and when he looks at you, you swear you can see that he almost wants to take his words back… Almost, because Byun Baekhyun would rather swallow glass shards than admit that he is wrong.

Hands balled into tight fists and eyes flickering in an effort to prevent tears from spilling, you are the epitome of hurt, betrayed, and belittled. Even with your attempt to not cry, a couple of stubborn tears cascade down your cheeks as you stare him down.

As much as you don’t want to admit it, in the back of your mind and in the depths of your heart, perhaps you’ve always known that he doesn’t really care much about you. But for him to actually voice out how little he thinks of you? The jealousy he’s showing might say otherwise, but you know that he’s angry solely because you embarrassed his reputation the moment you decided to go near another guy.

To an outsider, the scene might look like one straight out of a romantic movie. The two of you stand near and facing each other with the yellow glow of the lights casting a gentle glow over your forms, the moon high above and the people far away enough to leave the conversation a hushed secret only known to the two of you.

And how you wish that is true, but the fact remains that it isn’t now, and won’t be any time in the near foreseeable future.

Sniffling, you inhale deeply to try and stabilize your breathing but it seems like you aren’t having any luck with that. You open your mouth to speak but all that comes out is a soundless form of his name.

You sniffle again and meet his gaze with your own, “I don’t need to explain myself to you, but if you must know, I was only dancing with Chanyeol, who’s a really good friend by the way,” you wipe your eyes with both hands and continue, “We weren’t doing that you thought we were doing… or what you were actually doing with that girl you’re with earlier.”

Baekhyun scoffs. “That was no one. She was clinging to me the whole night so I indulged her a bit.”

“Yeah?” you say as you let out a humorless chuckle. “Indulged her a bit? As in kiss her, tell her things that would make her feel special and have sex with her as if you’re actually making love to her?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Why are you so hung up about this anyway when you were about to do the same thing to one of my friends!”

The annoyance is clear on his face and it takes almost all of your self-restraint not to give into the urge to pull your hair in frustration.

“I told you, Chanyeol and I were just dancing!” you scream at him. “And why are you even jealous when last time I checked, we were never together, right?”

That makes him stop. You gulp and lock eyes with him, deciding to bare your emotions at last. If it’s going to end, whatever it is, you want to end it yourself and in your terms.

“When it’s just the two of us, you turn into the sweetest person,” you say with a pained smile, “It almost makes me believe like you actually feel something for me…”

“...but you never tell me anything. Whenever I try to ask you what we are, for some reason, you always evade the question.” You wipe the stray tears that drip from your eyes. “And then you go around hooking up with other women… and you don’t even try to hide or deny it…”

Closing the distance towards him, you approach him and take his hands gently in yours. “I knew how you treated women and yet I still thought I can have a relationship with you. Or is it even a relationship? I don’t know, since we never once talked about it… and I know you’re mad because you want to keep me to yourself, not because you like me, but because you’re not done playing with me yet.”

When you look at his face, your heart breaks even more upon seeing the clear discomfort painted on the features you loved so much. Seeing his desire to just flee the situation makes you want to do the same, but you decide that you need to let him know how you feel… not for his sake because who knows if he even cares, but for yours, so you can get the pain and negative emotions out of your system. You need to break it off so you can move on from him, so you can completely free yourself from him no matter how even just the thought of it already hurts.

“I won’t fool myself anymore, Baek, so just… goodbye.”

You turn around and walk away knowing full well that he won’t follow you or even try to make things right because no matter how hurtful, the truth remains that he never once cared about you, only about the idea of having one more spare notch on his belt that he can add to his brag count and play with when he gets bored.

That, you figure, is where you've done wrong.

You believed him - everything he said and everything he did, you put to heart. He always made you agree with him without being the first to suggest an arrangement. Somehow, he had the ability to make you be the one to say that you should meet up, to say that you missed him.

He made it so that you would be the first to suggest everything, but he did it in a way where you wouldn’t notice because of the excitement he gave you with his words and actions.

Manipulative. That’s what he is.

Baekhyun made you chase after him and you never suspected a thing for he was always so sweet, so thoughtful, so attentive. He was everything you wanted and more, but he made sure to always be like that with others so when the time comes when you’ll demand an explanation, it would be so easy for him to deny anything because after all, he’s like that with everyone.

But he also never said anything about a relationship. Never confirmed nor denied that there was something between you. That way, he could flirt his way with others because what then, would you say to him? He wouldn’t be cheating on you because you weren’t together, and you wouldn’t have the right to complain or be jealous because after all, he never actually told you that you were together, right?

He made it so that you would blame yourself for everything.

The worst part? He was such a good guy all throughout, that even when you got slapped with the truth - that he was nothing but a manipulative playboy - there’s a fool’s gold of a hope that has embedded itself in your heart that makes you hold onto the chance of him being a nice guy deep inside.

You’ve been trapped and even though you’ve freed yourself from him physically, you don’t know if or when your heart and mind would be free from him any time soon.

Thrown into the ocean that was him, you got sucked in and it was already too late when you realized you were already drowning. And when you tried to get out, you swim up above only to be pulled back in, deeper and deeper every time.

Today, you walk away, but tomorrow… you’ll see what will fit Baekhyun’s needs. Will he want you back again because he’s bored with his other collections, or will he finally discard you permanently because you’ve turned into one of those things that he hates - the kind that demands commitment from him?

[littledreamybeth]

Leaving you

A/N: This is bullshit... I really should stop writing forever... But you decide so here we go... sorry for any kinds of mistakes...

Summary: Harry’s public life becomes to much for Y/N

All my life I had been the one who’s heart got broken every damn time, but never had I imagined that one day I would be the one to break someone else’s heart. Especially if that person didn’t do anything severe.

Especially if that person was Harry Styles; the kindest, loveliest and the most amazing person I’ve ever met and had been with.

When I chose to date him, but I hadn’t expected to feel miserable as I was doing now.

I’ve really thought I was capable of enduring all the hardships that our relation and Harry’s public life brought along, however, I came to conclusion that I had been terribly mistaken and had totally underestimated myself. The constant hate plus cyberbullying, the paparazzi being hot on my heels for 24/7 straight and thousands of cheating rumors circling around on tabloids about my boyfriend apparently meeting another hot super model behind my back- all of these incidents just overweighed my mental capacity and added even more fuel to the fire, namely; my fucked up insecurities. This heavy burden was more than I could ever handle or carry on my shoulders.

Unfortunately, I had to choose. It was either my mental health, which was far more important to me than anything else at the moment because I was almost at the verge of going insane, or my relationship with Harry that would keep me unhappy. It’s not that I didn’t love him; I’ve given my heart to him bits by bits, sacrificing everything that I had left only to receive his love and to hold his heart in my hands. Now, I realized how badly the consequences influenced me.

It had never occurred to me that I would suffer so severely under our relationship.

I had been always someone with major insecurities and after starting to date Harry, they didn’t get any better. I thought perhaps he could help me to defeat them so I could change into the strong young woman that I had dreamed of being. A young woman who loved herself the way she was. I was still far away from that destination.

Additionally, to my fucked up self, I started to develop paranoia thanks to damn paparazzi. There had been no moment in which I could step out of my house-somebody found where I lived unfortunately- without being bombarded with thousands of questions. I wasn’t even the famous one, so why following me around?

Also, the rumors about Harry added some trust issues and who would ever want a girlfriend who thought you would cheat on her whenever you went out with your female friends? Harry didn’t deserve such a girlfriend like me.

I tried to explain my problem, hoping he would comprehend the issue and why I had chosen to break up.

But Harry didn’t take it positively at all.

We were standing in the middle of my living room, his tall frame hovering over mine, making me feel small.

“You’re leaving me? Why?”

I articulate with the correct words so he wouldn’t be offended at the end. It wasn’t his fault anyway. “Everything is getting too much recently, Harry. I don’t think I can handle it. I’m not feeling well at all.”

“If that’s so we can get you professional help, how about that? I can arrange a meeting with the best therapist in London?” He tried to compromise. I could see panic being reflected in his green orbs. The fear of losing me.

“I don’t think it will help. Harry, it’s not that what I want.”

He looked at me confused.

“What is it then?”

I sighed, “I need a break from your public life. I know we’ve been together for a long while, but I still haven’t got used to it and I’m sorry that it took me so long to tell you. I thought could get accustomed to everything, but I didn’t. I want my private life back. I want to live in peace.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, love. Maybe we could leave until you feel better then?”

“Mental health conditions do not change overnight, Harry.”

“What do you want me to do, then?”

“Nothing,” I said, although it was quite obvious what I intended with this conversation.

“You’re very eager to get rid of me, aren’t ya?” His voice, which once held a soft undertone whenever he would speak, sounded so poisonous and unfamiliar in a sudden, I couldn’t recognize it at all. For a moment, it felt like as if a stranger that I’ve never met or heard before was talking to me and not my loving boyfriend. When I dared to look into his eyes with the last ounce of courage I had, a shudder went through my body from head to toe because I could clearly see the anger fuming behind his usually gentle green orbs. They were emitting complete darkness, making me feel little under his piercing gaze. Not being able to withstand the eye contact any longer, my glance fell down to his hands which he had so tightly fisted into two balls, I practically saw his knuckles turning very white. He flared his nostrils. His chest heaved strongly with every intake of breath. I knew he tried to stay calm, but despite his attempts, he was going to explode soon and if that happened, oh lord, you had to run as far as you could and search for a hiding place.

Harry was unrecognizable when he was mad. Dangerous even. But he would never raise his hand against me. At least that’s what I was hoping.

“You can’t wait to leave me.”

I shook my head unbelievingly, gaping at him. Although I was freaking scared, I still tried to hold my ground. “That’s not true, Harry. You know that. Stop twisting my words so you have a reason to be angered.”

He snorted. “I have a fucking reason to be mad. You’re leaving me and act like as if it wasn’t a big deal to you. So, excuse me miss if I’m getting upset at you for making me feel unworthy to your standards.”

“Standards? What in god’s name are you talking about?! I gave you a fucking valid reason why I chose to end things with you and all you gathered from what I’ve said is this? I never claimed you were being unworthy, I just stated that I don’t think I can keep up with your life anymore. It is affecting my mental health, don’t you get it? I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, and I have no privacy, for fucks sake. There is no day in which I’m not followed around by rude people showing their cameras into my face because they need some new headlines to gossip about. The majority of your fandom hates me, and I can’t even walk on the streets without fearing of being attacked. People call me ugly, they call me fat and unfitting for you. So, for the love of god, show some understanding! Stop making everything about you!” Another wave of tears was brimming my eyes. I was so tired of crying.

I really hoped I had spoken some sense into his stubborn mind, but unfortunately my speech had achieved the exact opposite reaction than I was expecting. Instead, things started to escalate.

“About me?!”

A loud bang echoed through the entire room. My wall had a dent.

“I’ve told you before!” Harry yelled. I was sure the entire building was able to hear him by now. His outburst made me flinch and back away a few steps in fright.

“I’ve told you exactly what you’d get yourself into if you chose to be with me and do you want me to remind you of what you answered back then?! You said you could handle it! It was you who said that as long as we have each other, our love would overcome everything! You fucking promised me my life was not a bother to you, you assured me that you wouldn’t run away like the ones I’ve dated before you because there was no way that you were like them. You promised to stay!! Look at you now; you prove that you’re no different than anybody else I was with!”

He was right. He was completely in the right and I couldn’t blame him for that.

“I know…” I whispered underneath my breath.

Harry groaned and went back and forth, his fingers grasping his chocolate curls so tightly, I feared he was going to rip them off his skull. Anguish was written all across his face.

“Fuck!” he screamed. The next time I looked at him, he was on the ground.

“Love, please,” he begged on his knees, his glossy eyes staring into my soul, “I’m ready to give up anything for you if you stay. Ask me anything you want, and you’ll have it, I promise. You’re the reason why life is getting easier for me every day. You give me a little bit of normality at times where I feel so out of place, as if I didn’t belong to anywhere in this world. I’m so sick of people seeing me as the Harry Styles. I’m sick of people putting me up on a pedestal or using me. I hate hiding a part of me in fear that I might get criticized. You, however, you see the real me. You don’t judge me but embrace who I am. You accept me. Please, I need you or I will lose myself. You’re my guardian angel that I need to keep.”

He slung his arms around my legs, hugging them so tightly that I couldn’t move from my spot. His desperate cries rang through my ear drums and found their way down to my heart, cutting it into two halves. My lungs burned from the lack of air. I just noticed now that I had stopped breathing. I was incredibly conflicted. I knew leaving him would make things less complicated for me than staying.

As selfish as it sounded and no matter how much I loved him, I had to improve my mental condition and focus on myself before I invested anything into our relationship again. My well-being was what mattered the most. Call me a fucking bitch for breaking Harry’s heart but believe me when I tell you that dumping him was the hardest challenge I’ve ever been through.

“Harry…” I sighed, trying to pry off his arms from my legs, “you know I can’t. I’m wasn’t made for this public life.”

I gazed down at him. Shoulders hanging low, his head pointing to the ground and his legs crossed, he sat there in a deafening silence. The tension between us made me a dizzy a lot. I took this short moment of quietness to gather my thoughts and to plan the next steps in my head.

And then, Harry’s voice reverberated through the room.

“If I leave through that door, this is it,” he said without any emotion behind his words. His dull and tired eyes met mine. Raising his arm, he pointed at the front door. “If I leave through that door, I won’t come back, and you will never see me again. I’ll cut you out of my heart. So, choose wisely, Y/N because there are no second chances.”

I tried to swallow the big fat lump that had developed in my throat, blinking away the tears in my eyes. My voice wavered as I answered, “Maybe that’s the best for us.” I avoided looking at him in the eyes, but I knew I had destroyed the last remains of hope that was left in them.

Why did my heart feel so heavy? It was better for him if he dated someone who was in his league, wasn’t it? Someone who didn’t mind changing their private life for a public one. Someone who was stronger than me.

Harry choked out a few heavy sobs before he raised up from his spot and faced me. The image of this broken man in front of me would haunt me forever.

We shared no words, no physical affection, no ‘I love you’s, nor did we bid each other farewell. We were just staring at each other. Maybe this was the perfect final opportunity to memorize every single detail of him. To engrave how he looked like up close. To imprint the shape of his lips, the size of his nose, his dimple and the twinkle of his beautiful green irises. However, he gave me no time to do such because, before I could even blink, he was already headed to the front door.

He turned to me for the very last time. His hand searched for something in his pocket, and suddenly something landed in front of my feet with a loud thud.

My eyes widened as I caught a glimpse of the foreign object. The world around me was spinning, and it gave me the terrible urge to throw up. It couldn’t be! With trembly fingers, I picked up the dark velvet box.

“You know, when I came here, I really thought I would leave this apartment with a smile on my face, knowing that you’d become my future wife,” Harry commented, the bitter tone of his voice couldn’t be overheard. “Instead, I’m leaving with a broken heart and shattered hopes. Congratulations, you have what you wanted.”

The door fell shut and he was gone.

I was frozen like a statue, couldn’t do anything but to stare at the velvet box in my hand. My insides were churning as I opened the lid and discovered a gorgeous diamond ring hiding underneath that took my breath away. It sparkled wonderfully in the light.

I saw the effort behind it, knowing exactly that Harry had trudged from one jeweler’s shop to the next because he was a very picky person who just wanted to find the perfect ring he could propose with. I saw the disappointment attached on his face every time when he found none but also excitement when he finally did. I saw the large smile decorating his lips when he admired the ring and when he said, “That’s the one.”

Placing the ring in the middle of my palm, I could feel how it burned and pierced through my skin. I couldn’t even look at it properly, not only because my vision was completely blurred by my tears, no, also because the ring was mocking me. I had been so determined to end my relationship with the man I could’ve called mine for the rest of my life, but now I was ashamed. Guilt swarmed through my body. My heart was under fire, paining, aching, bleeding. I landed on my knees and cried and cried and cried.

I could only hope that my decision was worth crushing the unique heart that I once held in between my hands.

 Harry

The small metal object felt incredibly heavy in my hand. My head couldn’t really process that I was going to do what I had planned the moment I had exited her apartment. Y/N’s and I’s breakup had left severe injuries that hurt and tore me apart. All this time I had strongly believed she was the one. I was so sure that she was different, that she would stay by my side regardless of who I was. I had told her the obstacles our relationship had to deal with, but she just waved it off, telling me she would fight against those if she had to. She had lied. I felt so betrayed.

I had trust issues, anyway, resulting from former unsuccessful relationships. So, when I had met Y/N, it took me a long while to regain my trust towards love for fear of being let down again. She broke my walls that should protect me from pain and now I had nothing to keep me safe anymore.

I shook my head.

Previously, I had emptied a box full of memories into my fireplace. Now, I was looking at them and letting the past flash before my eyes. Every happy memory that we both had created together would not be existing anymore. I took a photo in between my thumb and pointer finger. When I saw her smiling face pictured on it while I was kissing her cheek, I broke. Why was she doing this to me? Why was she hurting me so much? Have I ever meant as much to her as she did to me?

I threw the photo back into the fireplace and ignited the lighter. I hesitated for a moment. Was I really going to destroy valuable memories?

A snort escaped my lips. She threw our relationship away as if it was a piece of garbage so why did I care if I erased everything out of my life that dealt with her? I had been serious when I told her I was going to cut her out of my life.

Suddenly, the fireplace lit up and filled my living room with soothing warmth. I watched as the flames swallowed the last remains of Y/N’s and I’s relationship. Another tear slips down my cheek as I let my memories or anything that reminded me of her burn down into a pile of ashes along with my heart.

[the-marvel-imagines-blog]

Madness | Chpt. 13

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “Once Upon the 40′s”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 6,850

Warnings: ???

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

Summary: Eva recalls her past with Loki and runs into some very familiar faces along the way, faces she’s never been able to forget.

A/N: Like I’ve stated previously, I’m taking a lot of creative liberties with this fic, and I hope you understand. I’m definitely taking more within the following chapters. Thank you all for being so patient. Once again, I’ve heard a lot of really good theories about what might happen next, so I’m definitely excited to hear what you guys think of the story going forward. I’ve poured my heart and soul into this fic, and all I can do is hope that it shows. You’re all so phenomenal. I love all of you so, so, so much. PLEASE NOTE: this will likely be my final time posting an update for this fic before Endgame is released. I have a few other oneshots that I will release throughout the week before Endgame. I know everyone has said it at this point, but PLEASE if you see the movie, do not spoil it for anyone. I heard about the recent leak, and I refuse to scroll through any forms of social media at this point. I got on here just to post, and I’ll be getting right off. If you do have spoilers already, I ask that you please not share them here <3 -Ellie

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny @xletmetaste-yoursmilex @itsknife2meetu @mynameisyara @j-j-ehlby-writes @jillilama-blog (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

“We’re still going dancing after this, right?” I asked, gazing up into his blue eyes that matched the color of the sky. Midgard was beautiful as it was, but he made the world around him that much more beautiful in my eyes. My dress-a material that matched the color of his eyes-swung around my knees as we walked toward the expo that Loki had been speaking of for weeks since our last trip to Midgard. He smiled down at me, his eyes still glistening with a hint of excitement that he always tried to hide whilst in the midst of his father. Odin never treated him fairly and always scrutinized when Loki was happy “for no reason.” He knew that he never had to hide any piece of himself from me, though, and that he need not even try. We had known each other for nearly a thousand years, ever since I could remember, and I knew everything there was to know about the young prince of Asgard.

He snickered, “would it be a trip to Midgard without a little dancing?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at me. Dancing was something we always did when we made any trips to Midgard, regardless of what our trip was for in the first place. Loki was born with a grace and talent for dancing, and it showed in the way he moved. He walked with the same purpose and grace as he did when he danced, and that paled in comparison to the way he held me when we danced. The only thing it could be compared to was the way he held me at night after we spent hours rediscovering one another in the most intimate ways. Those were some of my favorite moments with him, when we were both so vulnerable to each other, but we were comfortable with it because we knew that our insecurities, our fears, our needs would never be exploited by the other. We trusted each other implicitly, and that would never change.

I smirked, remembering the one time that we didn’t go dancing. Loki had been so tired after the full day of mingling and running about the garden with me that we cancelled our plans to be at the wedding and celebrations of Mary, who I had taken a liking to for her fiery attitude, and Francis. Mary was beautiful and gentle, but she was also regal with a sharp-tongue, which was something I admired her for greatly, especially as she grew older. I visited her often with Loki, looking after her as if she were my own. Loki often admired her for being powerful in the face of adversity. People were reluctant to seeing a woman upon the throne, but Loki and I had seen too much to hold prejudice against someone simply because she was a woman. It was a terrible shame when we discovered what happened to her. Still, she had never let us forget that we missed her wedding, often bringing it up lightly to tease Loki and I, “do you remember the 50’s?” I asked, reminding him of a time that didn’t seem that long ago, a time that felt simpler in a way. We could spend hours running through the courtyard of the tudor style home Loki had built for us. It was our place to escape to when we left Asgard.

“Almost 400 years, and you still bring up that one time,” he reminisced, a smile breaking out across his face. I watched the memories dance across his mind, gazing up at him as I longed to revisit our old life. We had always been happy, but the days seemed to move slower then. We could just exist together. He drew himself closer to me, his face growing closer and closer to my ear. I could feel his warm breath cascade across my neck, “perhaps I can make it up to you later tonight?” he whispered, his voice low and smooth as velvet.

“Loki!” I gasped, pushing his chest in a playful manner. He began laughing, and the sound was like music to my ears. There had never been another song more beautiful than the laughter of my love. I stifled my own laughter, not wanting to draw attention from the passersby, but I couldn’t help the smile which tugged at my lips. I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing that he wanted to get that reaction out of me, “you won’t have any of your fun unless you take me dancing. If you back out, you’ll be sleeping on the couch,” I teased him, accepting the challenge to see which one of us would back down first. He rarely brought it up if he wasn’t fairly confident that he would win, but I knew how to beat him, how to make him tick. I loved winning for the simple fact that I loved watching Loki blush.

“I know what to do to get you to sleep on that couch with me, darling. I know how to make you quiver,” he murmured, his voice resembling a growl, causing my most primal urges to bubble up to the surface. I gripped his arm tighter as we continued to walk. He traced a slender finger of his free hand along the skin of mine, and I shivered beneath his touch. I found his eyes once more to see that he looked hungry, as if he were eyeing his prey, “you should enjoy that pretty blue dress because I’m going to have fun tearing it off of you later,” he remarked as a mischievous grin tugged at his lips.

“Watch what happens to you if you tear my dress,” I challenged him, cocking my eyebrow at him.

“You should watch your tongue, my love,” he chuckled, thinking that he won the unspoken challenge, that I had somehow run out of ways to make him blush.

I didn’t.

Without missing a beat, I veered off into an alleyway that left us barely visible to the passersby. No one would take notice of the two of us, especially since we knew how to blend in with the general public for the time period we found ourselves in when we travelled to Midgard. I pressed Loki against the stone wall, taking care not to hurt him as I held him against the cool surface. I leaned in close to him, allowing him to shiver with anticipation. I brought our faces as close together as they could be without partaking in a kiss that would relieve so much of the tension we were both feeling. I leaned into his ear, my breath hitting his neck. I grew close enough so that my lips brushed ever so lightly against his ear, and I felt him tremble beneath me, “you want me to watch my tongue? Make me,” I whispered before removing myself completely from his space just in time to see the color rise to his cheeks.

I won.

The moment he lunged for me, ready to admit defeat and ravage me with kisses, I pulled away from him and walked back out toward the street. That was part of the fun. We knew each other well enough to know what made the other tick. I knew how to get under his skin, and he knew how to get under mine. I knew that not allowing him to kiss me was my way of building up that tension. The lust within him would continue burning until we were alone that night, until I was able to lose myself in him and him in me. Before I could walk along the sidewalk alone, he resumed his place by my side, and I looped my arm through his once he offered it to me. We walked along, falling in perfect stride with one another, as if nothing had happened, but we would remember it later. The tension never died, but it just became like a smoldering fire, which would continue to burn until we extinguished it.

As we walked, we passed by a man and woman, and I noticed the rings on their fingers, symbolizing their eternal love, which was something Loki and I had talked about from time to time. The woman was pushing a baby carriage, and within it, there was a baby who looked no older than 3 months. He was dressed in a little blue outfit that matched his blue eyes. His hair was light, and his skin was fair, much like Thor’s. I smiled into the carriage, feeling my heart flip within my chest as my sudden urges came to light once more. I could feel Loki tense up next to me, and I knew why. It was something we had only talked about briefly, but I knew he wanted that life just as much as I did. His grip on me tightened, and I could feel his eyes lingering on me, so I turned my gaze up to meet his. He smiled down at me so sweetly, just like he used to when we first fell in love. The thoughts crossed his mind, and he didn’t even need to say a single word because I could always read him like an open book, “You know what my answer would be,” I stated, grasping his arm with my free hand. We had already been in the stage of our relationship where we wanted to get married, but we were also coming to the stage where we were both thinking about what would come next: a family.

He sighed, gazing once more at the baby in the carriage before gazing back down at me, “father has always treated me poorly, and he’s never been particularly kind to you. I can’t imagine what he would think of our…” he trailed off, his eyes beginning to water as soon as he even thought of the word. It was a difficult thing for either of us to think about. I was abandoned by my parents, and Odin never treated Loki as one of his own from the very beginning.

“Children, Loki,” I finished for him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze to regain his attention. Once his mind wandered, so did his eyes. Once our eyes locked, I knew that he was focused on me, “they would be our children and ours alone,” I reminded him, wanting him to understand what I had already accepted. I didn’t have to follow in my mother’s footsteps, and I wouldn’t. I would love my children endlessly, and I would never abandon them, not like my parents did to me. Loki’s fears and insecurities were justified because he was terrified of being the father to our children that his father was to him. As upsetting as it was to think that he was self-conscious about failing our future children, I always silenced his doubts about everything as soon as they arose, “you would be the most incredible father, in spite of how you were treated by your own father.”

Once I said my piece, he fell absolutely silent. I gazed up at him, trying desperately to decipher him. There were moments when he was an open book to me, but there were others where he was like a puzzle with dozens of pieces missing, and I became more and more stressed because I couldn’t figure it out. There was the alternative method of reading his mind, his thoughts, but that was something I saved for only the most dire circumstances. He was my lover, my soulmate, my best friend, not my experiment. I couldn’t just pull apart his mind whenever I felt like it to get answers to a question I didn’t want to bother him with. It was my job to read him as any woman would read her love, the way I had read Loki all along. When our eyes met, I knew exactly what he was thinking, as if it were painted across his blue eyes. He was picturing them. A wide smile spread across my face, “the first one would be a little girl, a little princess. I imagine her with your hair, wild and unruly and black as a shadow at night,” I murmured, my eyes flickering between his.

He snickered, “my hair is not unruly!” he defended himself, acting as if he had been terribly offended at my comments about his wild and unruly hair, which it was.

I cocked an eyebrow, ready to challenge him, “have I simply imagined the times when you struggle to brush it out and keep it in place in the morning?” I asked, a sly grin taking over the smile on my lips, “have I imagined the dozens of times when you beg me to brush it because only I can undo the tangled mess that you manage to get it into throughout the night? You always go to sleep with perfect, silky, beautiful hair-and I know because I brush it and look after it-but you wake up the next morning as if you fought four wars all on your own in the middle of the night,” I teased him, grinning up at the man who owned every piece of my heart. We hadn’t lost that spark between us. Sure, we argued with each other and had our fair share of disagreements, but we had been together for hundreds of years, so we knew how to make it work through all of that. Still, no matter what, I always looked at him as the boy I fell in love with. I still got butterflies when I talked to him. I still blushed when he paid me a compliment or looked at me for a prolonged period of time. I still giggled when he called me beautiful.

“That’s only because of you!” he argued, raising his voice only slightly. He wouldn’t yell at me, but he was clearly trying to defend his wild and messy hair. Whenever I closed my eyes and imagined our future children, though, they always had his hair. My hair was dark, but his was exceptionally dark. His hair was darker than the forest on a dark night when the stars didn’t even shine through the trees. The darkness would envelope me, and I wouldn’t be able to see my hands had they been directly in front of my face. Each of our future children, as I saw them, had his wild hair. It would fall in curls, and they would all wear it the way he did: long. His light chuckle pulled me from my daydream, “you keep me up far too late, or have I simply imagined the times I’ve nearly fallen asleep at the breakfast table with my mother?”

My mouth hung agape as I recalled one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, “that-!” I stammered, trying to find a way to defend myself. It was true that it was my doing which left him embarrassed at the breakfast table with Frigga, and it was the moment she understood how deep our relationship was, how serious we were about each other, “that happened one time, and it was only because you wouldn’t stop looking at me the way you are right now!” I blamed him with a smirk as our eyes met once more. Mine danced along his face before I lost myself in the oceans of blue that pooled up against the dark pupils of his eyes, like land masses that felt like home.

His eyes flickered between mine, and his smile fell. The solemnity that overcame his feature worried me for a moment as I wondered if I had gone too far; however, when I saw the tears well up in his eyes, I knew that he was thinking about them. He thought about them just as often as I did, even though he didn’t like to admit it, “they would have your eyes,” he murmured, pulling me closer to him, “a green that matched the colors of spring when the land is reborn after the cold winter, a green that feels like the warm breeze in the middle of the forest when it ripples through the leaves, a green that feels like home. They would wear that same look in their eyes, too. They would have that determination and ferocity but also the love and appreciation of life and all living things. They would have your nose, your cheekbones...your laugh because Gods know there is nothing sweeter or more poetic and beautiful than the sound of your laugh,” he said, tearing up at the thought of our future children. I knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that he would be the best father to our children, and I knew because he loved them already, just like I did.

I stopped completely, not wanting him to focus on anything but me. I reached up and grasped his chin in my hand before turning his head until our eyes met, “I have told you for hundreds of years that all you have to do is ask me, and I’ll be yours for the rest of eternity, Loki,” I reminded him, knowing that all he would have to do is ask for my hand, and I would accept his offer in a heartbeat. He didn’t have to write a speech or plan an elaborate proposal because he was the only thing that mattered.

“I’m just worried that I could never be able to offer you all that you want in life,” he murmured, his eyes acting as windows into his very soul. I knew that he always felt unworthy of me, of the love I gave to him, like he didn’t deserve me. It was the same way I felt at certain times in our relationship, when I wondered why someone who could have anyone or anything he wanted would choose me. He always silenced those doubts, and I did the same with him.

I shook my head, “all I want is you,” I insisted once more, grasping his hand in my own as I gazed up into those uncertain blue eyes, “I want to marry you and start a family. I want to see you with our baby, to watch you hold him or her, to watch you fall in love with the way they laugh, the way they dance, the way they look at you. I want to raise children with you, however many we decide. I want to get up early in the morning and rock our baby to sleep and be reminded that they are the product of the two of us, that we created something that was bigger than ourselves, that our love created life,” I reminded him, my eyes stinging with the hot tears as I thought of a life we had yet to begin. I watched as his eyes brimmed with tears, and I gave his hand a gentle squeeze “we’ve been together for hundreds of years, and you have given me all that I could ever want and all I could ever need, but that is the one thing that’s missing. I want that life with you and no one else,” I finished, stepping closer to him.

“That’s what you want?” he asked, his focus becoming firm, and I knew that he would be focusing on picking out any hints that I was being dishonest, as if I would even try to with him after so long together.

I nodded, “it’s what I’ve always wanted.”

He nodded once, continuing to gaze down at me. Upon seeing that I wasn’t trying to mislead him, his gaze lightened, and he gathered me in his arms in one swift motion. I gasped at the sudden and unexpected action, but before I could speak, his lips crushed mine, silencing whatever words I was about to utter. He kept my body pressed to his firmly but not aggressively. His hold on me was all encompassing as his right arm snaked around my waist, arching my body into his. The fingers of his left hand caressed my cheek and jaw, holding me steady as we kissed. The moment he pulled his lips from mine, it was as if my very breath left with him. Luckily, he didn’t let go of me, or I was sure I would have fallen to the ground. He pulled his head back only slightly to take in my reaction to what just happened, but I had no words, no emotion to give. He took my breath away with that kiss, and it felt like we were at the very beginning of our courtship once more, like we were still naive lovers who saw nothing but one another.

Without warning, he began laughing lightly at what had just transpired. Had we put our love on full display in the streets of Asgard, Odin would have forced the two of us away from each other. It would have been improper for him and unladylike for me. However, on Midgard, people seemed to pass by without taking much notice. Of course, I could still feel eyes on us because it was still a rarity, but we would not be punished for a kiss. I saw, once more, the boy I fell in love with, my Loki. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t able to contain my laughter once he began laughing. Rolling my eyes, I turned on my heel and pulled him along, “come on, love. We don’t want to miss the expo. It’s the whole reason we came here,” I reminded him as we walked toward the crowds of people.

Upon reaching the large groups of people, we began making our way to the front of the stage in the pavillion where we saw the most commotion. Everyone was talking, and the buzzing of life around me left me with a euphoric feeling in my chest. Warmth spread from the depths of my chest all throughout my body, leaving me gasping for the sweet air to fill my needy lungs. I loved the sensation of life, the vibrations of the energy around me. Loki’s hand found mine, and he intertwined our finger, his fear of large groups becoming more and more clear. Whenever he needed to find his footing once more, he reached out to me, and I was always there. His grip on my hand tightened whenever the noise in the pavillion increased, and I accommodated it by pulling the two of us closer together. I knew where his fear and anxiety stemmed from, and I would always comfort him when that was what he needed.

Once we reached the front of the stage, we watched as young women in matching outfits lined up in front of a car. Shortly after Loki and I took our place, another man with two young women at his side broke through the crowd and stood beside Loki and I. The man in the group was tall and built like a warrior. I took note of the uniform that seemed to hang from his broad shoulders and knew that he was one of Midgard’s soldiers. He smiled up at the stage as the two girls beside him began conversing amongst themselves in their excitement for what was to unfold. Trailing behind them was a smaller man, but I could feel the vibrations within me begin to grow stronger and stronger the closer he grew to me, and I just knew there was something about him, something I couldn’t place my finger on. Our souls were connected somehow, similarly to how mine was connected to the souls of Loki, Ephinea, Hjalmar, and my father. I didn’t even know his name, but I knew his soul.

The taller of the two men glanced over at me, a playfulness in his eyes that matched Loki’s, and I knew that it was a light the world so desperately needed. He smiled down at me, though I was only slightly shorter than him, “good evening, ma’am,” he greeted me with a tip of his hat before turning his attention to Loki and doing the same, “sir,” he greeted politely, causing the God of Mischief to bow his head in a friendly greeting.

I stepped closer to the young man, breaking away from Loki’s side and feeling a chill run through my body at the sudden lack of warmth he brought me, “you can call me Eva, and this is Loki. He’s not much of a talker until you mention literature,” I laughed, gesturing over to Loki before offering my hand.

The soldier took it and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of my hand. I knew it was what was considered respectful and courteous at the time. Loki still did it to me when we were in the company of others. The soldier lifted his head and released my hand, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Eva,” he stated before turning his attention over to Loki once more and sticking out his hand for him to take, “Loki...that’s not a common name,” he noted, trying out the name on his tongue.

Loki chuckled, “I’m not a common man,” he replied as he took the soldier’s hand and shook it.

“The name’s James, but most people just call me Bucky,” the soldier finally introduced himself before turning to the shorter man beside him, “and this is Steve, he’s like my unruly, rebellious sidekick who likes to look for trouble,” he teased his friend with a wide smile.

I smiled and stepped closer to the newly introduced stranger, “it’s nice to meet you, Steve,” I replied, reaching my hand out. Instead of taking it and kissing it, he just gave it a quick shake, and I could tell that he was nervous about the sudden introductions. The moment our hands touched, an electric current surged through my body, as if a piece of his very essence was transferred to me and a piece of mine was transferred to him. It was a strange occurrence, an event that had only happened a small handful of times in the past, but it always forged a powerful connection to the person it happened with. The energy surged through me as I felt his essence intertwine with mine, pieces of our souls coming together to form one. I wondered, for a moment, if he felt the same thing or something similar, and the sudden wonder in his eyes told me that he had experienced it as well.

He tried to shake off the awkward silence between us, his cheeks becoming flushed, “So, where are you two from? Your accents sound...foreign,” he asked, trying to propel the conversation forward after a powerful experience we both shared.

“Smooth,” Bucky teased him as he gazed up at the stage that was continuing to be prepared.

I smiled, “it’s alright. We’re from Westminster in England,” I lied, recalling a place Loki and I had visited dozens of times in the past. It’s not like I could tell him the truth, that Loki and I were from a completely different realm altogether, that there was life beyond Midgard. They would discover our existence at some point during the course of humanity, but it didn’t need to be today, “what about you? Where are you from?”

“Brooklyn,” he answered with a kind smile. It was clear that not many people gave him the time of day, but I wanted to. I wanted to learn everything about him because I was certain he would play a large part in my life. He gestured between Loki and I, “and you two are...married?” he asked, and I could sense the boyish bashfulness rising within him.

Bucky snickered, “wow, how subtle,” he teased Steve again.

“Not yet,” Loki answered before I had the chance to speak.

I furrowed my eyebrows at his confession, taken aback by his answer. Steve and Bucky raised their eyebrows as well, but I knew that their surprise came from the forwardness of it. They didn’t know Loki like I did. I knew that he was rather bold, but I just never expected that answer because I didn’t know if he truly wanted to marry me the same way I did him. We had been together for hundreds of years, the better part of a millenia, and he still hadn’t asked me to marry him. I cocked an eyebrow, “should I be expecting a question soon, or will I be waiting another thousand years?” I asked, teasing him about how long it had already taken him.

Bucky and Steve both laughed in unison, thinking that I was exaggerating the length of time I had been waiting. It was only slightly exaggerated, since our thousand year milestone wouldn’t happen for another 67 years. Loki’s grin at me caused my heart to flutter as I thought of how and when he would do it. After a short amount of banter between the four of us, Loki and Bucky began having their own conversation, leaving Steve and I with a comfortable silence that fell between the two of us. As we gazed up at the stage together in anticipation for the upcoming show that was sure to be put on, I could feel his eyes on me. Loki made a habit of doing the same thing early in our childhood, before he even began courting me, but it remained something he did even after so long together. He would always watch me. It was never in a way that made me uncomfortable, but it was the same reason I watched him, to memorize every little piece of him, how the rays of the sun sat so delicately upon his eyelashes, how his slender fingers would swim through his raven black hair when he pushed it back into place, how every smile started at one corner of his mouth, how the tears rimmed his perfect blue eyes whenever he read something I wrote for him, or how his eyebrows pulled together in fascination whenever he looked at me. I committed every piece of him to memory just in case there was a day when he wasn’t mine, when his body returned home. Though I wished for us to meet our end together, I knew that one of us would outlive the other, and my selfish dream was that he would be the one to do so. I couldn’t bear a life without him, so even if he went before me, I wouldn’t be far behind.

As I felt Steve’s eyes on me, I also felt the familiar warmth of Loki’s gaze as well. His conversation with Bucky had become a conversation about me, and my suspicions were confirmed when I felt the unfamiliar eyes of the soldier on me again. I glanced over at Steve in an attempt to keep myself from blushing at the attention that I was getting. As soon as I turned my head to interact with Steve, our eyes connected, and a blush rose to his cheeks almost immediately. It was exactly what happened when Loki and I first began our relationship. He would be caught in the act of studying me, and his cheeks would flush with color in his bashfulness. It became less of an occurrence the longer we were together, but there were times when it presented itself once more. Steve glanced down at the ground, trying to seem like he wasn’t watching me only seconds prior. I smiled to myself, thinking about how endearing it was, but what he did next was even more shocking and endearing. He extended his hand with the paper bag filled with popcorn in an attempt to offer some to me.

That was the moment I knew.

That was the single moment I figured out exactly who Steve was, almost as if I could see straight into his very soul. It was one of the purest, most beautiful things I had ever seen in all my life. The innocence and innate goodness he had within him made me want to cry. There were only a handful of moments in my life that left me so emotionally overwhelmed, whether by the sheer beauty I witnessed or sorrow I felt, that left me unable to contain my tears. That was one of those moments. It felt like Steve and I were just made to find our way to one another, like we were created for the soul purpose to run into each other at some point, but the reason was unclear. With Loki, our bond with each other was clear, but with Steve, I didn’t understand it. Why us? Why him? As I tried to sort through it, he maintained his outstretched hand. I gave a polite nod and collected a few of the pieces of popcorn, maintaining eye contact with him and trying to suppress the smile that only continued to grow on my face.

Knowing that the only way to silence the parade of questions through my mind was to talk to him, I ate the popcorn in my hand and spoke, “what are you doing out here on a night like tonight? What brings you to the expo?” I asked, looking for any way to stop falling into a platonic type of love with him. It was the strangest, most unexpected feeling, but I could feel the love within me growing for him with every passing second. It was as if my soul recognized his, and I couldn’t help it.

He shrugged his shoulders, “well, it’s Bucky’s last night as a free man before he ships out. You know, he’s my best friend in the world, so when he wanted me to come out, how could I say no?” he asked, trying to minimize his act of kindness toward his friend. He forced himself to be uncomfortable just to make his friend happy. That was love, pure and untainted love. I smiled as he continued, “it’s not really my cup of tea, though. I’m not really into crowds, but I know it’ll make Bucky happy.”

Nodding my head, I reached out and grasped his arm, “everyone needs someone like that in their lives. He’s lucky to have you.”

He shook his head, not fully convinced by my words, “I think it’s the other way around. I’d be nowhere without Bucky. He’s the only family I have left after my mom died. He’s like a brother to me. I owe him everything. The least I could do was come out with him tonight,” he spoke, his voice soft and full of sincerity. Suddenly, a wide smile formed on his lips and he cast his gaze to the ground once more as a blush overcame his cheeks, “I mean, I got to meet you out of the deal, so it wasn’t all bad,” he complimented me with a quivering voice before trying to laugh off his clear embarrassment. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as I realized just how genuine the compliment was, and I couldn’t help but step closer to him. It wasn’t a romantic gesture, and I didn’t take his compliment as a flirtatious one; all I wanted was to feel closer to the warmth his very essence provided. He was like the light of the sun-all encompassing, bright, and warm.

Before I could respond to Steve’s remark, the voice of a female announcer silenced the crowd, “ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Howard Stark!” she announced, her voice leaving the audience even more lively than before. As the crowd began to cheer and applaud, the man who I presumed to be Howard Stark, the man of the hour, sauntered onto the stage wearing a tuxedo, a top hat, and a grin. The women on the stage all presented him, holding their arms out as he passed by them. One of the brunette girls stepped out of line to take his hat and trade off the microphone she had in her hand. As he took it, he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her close before pressing his lips to hers in a quick, suggestive kiss. Once he wiped the lipstick from his lips, he spoke into the microphone, his voice echoing throughout the calming crowd, “ladies and gentlemen, what if I told you that in just a few short years, your automobile won’t even have to touch the ground at all?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

The two girls Bucky and Steve arrived with were two of the many people in the audience who covered their mouths and gasped. Loki and I shot a knowing glance at one another that this was no new technology to us, as Asgardians had perfected similar technology so long ago. However, it was a remarkable achievement for Midgardians to be making. I turned my gaze back at Howard Stark as the women who once stood in front of the car pulled the wheels off of it and walked away with them. He glanced out at the audience, holding the microphone up to his lips, “with Stark gravitic reversion technology, you’ll be able to do just that,” he promised before stepping aside and allowing everyone in the audience a clear view of the spectacle that was about to take place. With the flip of a switch and the press of a button, the car began hovering above the stage with a gentle hum. I glanced around at the small group I was with to see that everyone wore looks of pure astonishment at the idea of flying cars. No matter how advanced our technology was, Loki was still impressed by the humans, just as I was. They showed great promise, and that was one of the many reasons why we swore to protect them.

Howard’s eyes scanned the crowd as he looked truly proud of what he had accomplished. I watched him intently as everyone else watched the car. All I could do was study how his pride grew more and more as he witnessed what kind of reactions he could elicit with his own genius. Suddenly, without warning, his eyes connected with mind, and his scanning of the audience stopped as those brown orbs focused on me. They felt familiar, like we had met before, like I knew him from another lifetime. I sensed something within these humans that felt surreal, like I could have been dreaming it. I had such an intense connection already to Steve, and I knew Bucky on a level that should have been impossible, given that we had only spoken a handful of words to one another. Then, there was Howard. All we shared was a prolonged moment of eye contact, but something within me came to life in that moment, and I knew that this would be the beginning of something. What that something was, though, I had no clue. All I knew was that Howard and I-like Steve and I, or like Bucky and I-would be bound by a silken cord that was strong as a chain of steel that would never break.

The one thing that pulled our gaze from each other was the sudden crash that came from behind him, and my eyes found the car now on the floor where it had once been hovering over. The crowd gasped but slowly started to clap, and I did the same. It was a true accomplishment, regardless of how long the car managed to hover. He was the first Midgardian to discover that technology, and while there was no way he would be the last to tamper with it, he made waves on that night. He chuckled into the microphone, laughing off his “failure” before speaking, “I did say a few years, didn’t I?” he asked, his eyes flickering to mine again before winking at me.

As the expo continued, Howard showed off more impressive technology that he was working on, but nothing was more impressive than his persistence, considering he didn’t even know who I was. Every chance he got, it seemed like he caught my gaze, and the playfulness would sneak into his brown orbs. I could sense a childlike wonder about him, something I hadn’t experienced much, especially not with the Midgardians. However, Howard seemed to exude those playful, childlike qualities just as much as his confidence and self-assured attitude. Once Howard’s portion of the expo was finished and the crowd applauded him, I felt the sudden absence of Steve’s warmth as he broke away from the group without a word. I wondered to myself if something had happened that upset him, or if he just needed to be alone. Bucky smiled to himself, “hey, Steve, what do you say we treat these girls to…” his voice trailed off as he turned around to see that Steve was no longer present. He sighed to himself, and I could sense his distress. I knew that he only wanted a night with his friend, especially considering the hell he was about to walk into.

Then, there were screams.

[purplesurveys]

589

Have you ever been served breakfast in bed? Sure. When we don’t feel like having breakfast at the table together as a family, my mom just brings up food for us when we wake up. What is the most challenging meal you have ever cooked? I don’t cook or bake at all but back when we had to do it in home ec, I remember how hard macarons were to make (if this counts). Baking in general demands precision, it’s just that the skill needed to make macarons is pumped up to the max. Are you one to approach others, or let them approach you first? I let people approach me because I’m shy most of the time. When was the last time you took painkillers? Saturday. My toothaches struck once again and I didn’t want to be burdened while at dinner with Gab, so I had to take a painkiller for the second time that day. Have you ever picked flowers out of someone else's garden without asking? No. That’s kind of a dick move.

Who did you give them to, or did you keep them for yourself? What is your favorite thing to do as a little kid? I loved being allowed to play outside. My grandma was very strict with us and would sometimes not allow us to go outside and play with our neighbors – if we were allowed, we only could from 4 to 6 PM. So whenever we got to go out and play it was always really fun, even though I almost always went home sporting a new gash, cut, or wound. Then when we came back home, Nickelodeon would usually have an awesome program schedule, followed by changing the channel to Cartoon Network at 7 so we could watch Pokemon, then we’d flick the channel to Disney because Mr. Bean airs around 9 PM. Are holidays as fun for you now as they were when you were younger? I looked forward to holidays more when I was a kid because it was before a bunch of my relatives migrated to different countries. It’s never the same without them, which is often the case these days. Do you find non-fiction to be boring? I find fictional works to be boring, but I can spend hours reading non-fiction content. Are you a punctual person? Or are you always late? Yes, I hate being late.  Do you own a thesaurus? Do you actually use it? I owned a thesaurus because I had to back in grade school, but I’m not sure if I actually ever threw it out or not. Nowadays Google can easily be a thesaurus if I need it for that purpose. What is the longest essay or research paper you have written? It was our final paper for my communication research class last semester. If I remember correctly, it has about 90 pages.  Do you ever write your own short stories? I tried doing it when I was 12 or 13, but I didn’t find it fun. Also I was never creative enough for it and got bored real quick. I envy people who can write very good short stories. Have you ever won money by entering a contest/raffle? Raffles are a Filipino favorite and we have a lot of them, so yeah I’ve won some cash here and there. Have you ever lost something very valuable? Of course. The first valuable thing I ever lost was my first ever cellphone, given to me as a 7th birthday gift by my parents; I lost it while on a school field trip. I’ve always felt bad about that. Have you ever lost something with a lot of sentimental value? In high school, I lost a watch that my mom gave me. It was a super pretty watch and again, I haaaaated myself when I realized I had misplaced it.   Have you ever been close to drowning? Yes. When I was nine, my cousins and I went for a swim in our clubhouse’s pool. I was swimming at the deep end – which I normally could handle by myself – but suddenly one of my cousins grabbed at my legs which kept me from being able to lift my head above water because it felt like I was being dragged further down. Have you ever had a panic attack? Yes. I haven’t had one in a couple of years though, so I guess that’s good. What stores do you go into when you go to mall? I’m not a big store person when I go malling, but when I do stop by shops, it’s usually stationery stores, bookstores, or stores that sell cute novelty stuff like weird coasters, flasks, alarm clocks, etc. Do you ever stop to eat in the food court? Only if we want a quick snack to get by, like shawarma or corndogs. As much as possible I like eating in sitdown restaurants. Do you find it easy to relate to other people? These days, yeah. I’ll admit that when I was younger, I used to put a premium on being ‘not like other teenagers’ BAHAHAHAHA YUCK, but tbh there’s no shame in being able to relate to many others in terms of music or TV shows or other similar interests. It helps me gain friends, which is always a plus. Who is your favorite philosopher? I hate philosophy more than anything else in this planet. What is your favorite song to sing? OMG Thinking of You by Katy Perry easily takes the cake for this one. Do you consciously try to be unique, or do you just be you? I’m just me for the most part. Do you worry about being judged by other people? Sometimes, but it’s usually for stuff like having to borrow a pen in class, or having to ask for a piece of yellow pad – basically stuff that would make people think I was irresponsible haha. If someone doesn't like you, do you usually want to know the reason? Yes, just out of curiosity. But I wouldn’t feel like it’s the end of the world if I never got to know why. When was the last time you told someone something really important? A couple of weeks ago; I had to tell Gab I passed out quietly for a few minutes in the restroom in the middle of PE. The workout was too difficult and I didn’t have my water bottle with me that day, so I felt queasy quickly. Have you ever lost a large amount of money? Thankfully, no. The only time I lost my wallet, there was only around ₱600 in it. Have you ever tried to blame something you did on someone else? I mostly did it when I was a kid and blamed my little sister or brother for something. Did that person get in trouble, or did the plan fail? Failed, obviously.

What is the weirdest hairstyle you have ever had? I never went with weird hairstyles but my worst look will always be rebonded hair. I have a square face with a very strong jaw; completely straight hair has never suited me. Describe the ugliest pair of shoes you own? I don’t think I’ve ever allowed myself to wear shoes I thought were ugly, haha. How many times a day do you look in the mirror? For how long? Maybe a few times. Once before I leave the house, then maybe one or two times from my webcam just so I know how I currently look while in school, then again when I get home. Are you ashamed to leave the house when not looking your best? Not ashamed, just uncomfortable. If you are antisocial, WHY are you that way? That’s a legitimate personality disorder and I prefer we didn’t throw that word around like it’s nothing. Are you modest? Well I used to be, back when I was in Catholic school. I still hold some traditional sentiments here and there but I wouldn’t call myself modest. What is your favorite singer? Beyonce or Hayley Williams, for sure. If you could relive one day from last year, what day would it be? Why? April 21, 2018! It was my birthday and my first time driving out of town by myself. Gab and I went to Nasugbu for a day trip to the beach and Tagaytay for dinner. It was soooooo so fun even though we were exhausted afterwards and I was fighting to keep my eyes open while driving by that evening.   What is something that you are afraid to fail at? Something I’m supposed to be really good at, like writing. What would happen if you did fail at it? I’d feel insecure for a long time and for that period, no one would be able to encourage me and make me feel better. Do you ever worry about your loved ones dying? Ever since my grandpa and now Nacho passed away, yes. What is the cutest thing a guy could do for a girl? The cutest thing anyone* can do for anyone* is making time for them, I guess. I’m not very picky when it comes to showing love. Stuffed animals--immature, or should everyone have one? Neither. I don’t mind them but I don’t hate them. What do you like in your breakfast burritos? I don’t think I’ve ever had a breakfast burrito. What restaurant would you choose to go to for breakfast? Rustic Mornings, La Creperie, or Eggs For Breakfast! How much money do you think you cost your parents? Millions. Do you have good hand/eye coordination? Only when it comes to table tennis. I generally wouldn’t call myself skilled at catching stuff. Can you do a flip on a trampoline? I haven’t tried, and I think I’d be too scared to anyway. Do you remember the last time you climbed a tree? I don’t think I’ve ever climbed a tree...most trees here are riddled with red ants. Did you ever lie on your back and pick shapes out of clouds as a kid? Sure, but I didn’t do it all the time nor does it feel nostalgic to me. Do you watch any Japanese anime? Other than watching Pokemon when I was a kid, no. Is there a foreign culture you are interested in learning more about? I’m always interested in learning all foreign cultures. Do you let your emotions get the best of you in a fight? Sometimes. Do you know anyone whose reputation has recently been ruined? That’s what happened to Nach. It’s why I was always more gentle in dealing with him than everyone else, because I knew just how damaged his rep was after what happened. I didn’t want to add to that anymore. When did you first get a cellphone? I got my first one on my 7th birthday. Do you have your own laptop computer? Yes. How about your own digital computer? Like...a cellphone or calculator? I guess, yeah lmao. Do you drive your own car, or your parents? I’ve been given my own car for me to drive, but my parents bought it and own it. Say something inappropriate? Cunt. Always been my least favorite bad word. What were you doing before you started taking this survey? I washed the dishes. Describe the best summer you ever had? I don’t like my summers. It’s not a part of the year I look fondly on. Do you eat any meat other than turkey on Thanksgiving? I don’t celebrate that holiday. Did you attend a pre-school? My only other school apart from UP has a preschool, elementary, and high school. I studied there for 14 years. We also have a college, but it’s in our Makati campus.  Do you remember what it was like to learn to count to 100? Not really. What is something you lost in the process of growing up? The concept of looking to my mom if I have any problems. Do you wear any wristbands? If so, what's on them? Nope, I do not. What was the last picture you were in? We took a family photo over lunch yesterday. Did you have required reading material in high-school? We had required reading material from Prep all the way to senior year in high school. Do you keep your room organized? I try to. It becomes messy slowly over time but I always end up tidying my room. Do you vacuum daily? I don’t. How many board games do you own? A couple. I have Scrabble, Pictionary, and Trivial Pursuit. Own any books? ...Of course. Recently checked any books out from the library? Nah that was about a month ago. I recently returned a (overdue) book though. Does your cat give you kitty kisses? My dog gives me a single lick to the face whenever I come home from school. What’s in your make-up bag? I don’t have one.

[softmoxymuffin]

“Cinched”

the angsty ambreigns fic is taking a lot longer than i had anticipated and is also making me a lot sadder than i wanted so i took a break to finish this smut for you guys and hopefully garner myself a little more patience

idea for this fic came from one of the comments regarding dean’s waist i remember corsets being mentioned and i wanted to try my hand in writing this it’s not exactly what the user wanted but hope it’s still good for you guys

if anyone knows who’s idea was the corset thing please message me and i’ll tag you accordingly

It was a rare and lazy evening at home for Roman. He and Dean had eaten a light dinner a couple of hours earlier, just enjoying spending their what little sporadic domesticated life they had together before they’d have to hit the road again in a day or two. The Samoan had gone ahead and sat in their giant leather couch in the living room, mostly settled in to watch tonight’s game. 

Dean on the other hand had said he had some laundry he had left unfolded and felt he had to get that over with so as to not have it ruin the rest of their down time. Roman was patiently waiting for his boyfriend to finish when the doorbell had suddenly rang.

Roman was just about to rise to his feet to answer, when Dean had yelled out ‘I got it’ right before stepping out of their laundry room to open the front door.

After a minute of a whispered exchange, Dean reenters their home with a small black plastic bag in hand which seemed to have a note with it.

“Who was that?” he asked.

“Delivery guy.” He answered, his blue eyes still on the label which he was still reading.

Curiosity getting the better of him Roman had to asked “What’s it say?”

“For your challenge; fulfill as soon as you can. Take pictures. Love, Seth.” He read out loud with a smirk on his face.

Roman smiled worriedly. Knowing Seth, though he presented himself as the calculating architect to the WWE universe, he had a fairly bad reputation for pranks ever since he and Dean had became friends. It was never hurtful, at least not intentionally, but still Roman couldn’t help but eye the plastic bag suspiciously.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I think I know.” Dean chuckled and added “Only one way to find out.” He added as he walked down the hall towards their bathroom.

Whatever it was Roman was glad Dean had decided to open it away from him. He really did not need another incident like that time the Armenian had sent them a ‘care package’ to encourage them to eat more fruits. It wasn’t until they had opened the Tupperware when they had realized the other man had sent them Durian or the smelliest fruit in the world. Honest to God, it was like a bomb had gone off and the stink of it hung in the air for the next week. Fortunately Daniel and Brie were fairly close by and were eager to take the offending produce away from them. They got their payback when they traumatized their youngest member by sending him cans upon cans of that stinky Swedish fish they had found online.

Roman was so busy reminiscing that he had barely paid attention to the game on the TV in front of him, nor did he hear the first time Dean’s voice had come through from their bathroom.

“Hey Romie!” he called out.

“Yeah?” he called back.

“Need a little help here.” He replied.

‘Uh oh…’ Roman was really hoping it wasn’t anything too bad. He turned off the TV, and put down the remote before following his boyfriend’s voice down the hall.

Roman found himself standing right outside their bathroom door that was ajar. The white light from inside shining a beam across their carpet. He was so relieved there was no smell. Whatever Roman was expecting it to be, it really wasn’t what his eyes saw the moment he pushed the door wide open.

Dean was standing in front of their bathroom mirror. The shirt he had been wearing only moments ago was now discarded on the tiled floor. His back was towards Roman. Across that lower half of that broad back was wide belt of blue satin and what looked like silky black ribbon. Roman could make an educated guess of what exactly it was, but his brain was currently being fried to a crisp by the very thought of it.

“What’s that?” he asked, his voice sounding nervously higher.

Dean was still preoccupied, he hadn’t even bothered looking at him when he answered. “A corset.”

From Roman’s view from the reflection of the mirror, Dean’s nimble hands clasping the front to his stomach. The way it clung to his body like the countless belts he had won over the years of his career. He never thought Dean could look any hotter than with a championship belt around that damn waist of his, but clearly Roman was wrong.

“A corset?” he asked, he tried his very best to keep his voice even.

“Yeah,” again blue eyes still hadn’t met brown. “Seth was trying to convince me again to get back to crossfit. Actually get me those washboard abs he practically drools for whenever Finn enters the room.” He joked which Roman could not appreciate while he was much too preoccupied by the sight in front of him.

“Anyway, he pointed out how I needed to tone my stomach and not rely so much on who skinny I am.” Dean had added with a tone of annoyance in his voice. “He said I’d probably fit into one of Bliss’ corset’s if given the chance.” He huffed out a laugh.

The younger man would never come across as insecure. Dean always had that cocky, devil-may-care attitude and he carried it well. But being around him as much as Roman has, he knew his boyfriend had his fair share of insecurities. One of which was how he was never able to bulk up much like Roman or Seth or anyone else in the roster could.

Dean was far from being skinny. He was tall and broad shouldered, and his legs were so goddamn long. But one of the things Roman had always loved about his lover’s body was that tiny ass waist of his. He’d be damned if he was going to some throw away line like that make his boy feel bad.

“And of course, I just had to fucking comeback at him telling him that I think I’d look fucking good in a corset, as a joke.” That annoyance in his voice growing a bit more, maybe because he was remembering his conversation with Seth or maybe because he had been struggling with the damn lingerie for a couple of minutes now.

“You said you would wear a corset?” Roman’s voice was growing squeaky high from watching what he was looking at right now. If it was so damn easy to get his boy in something as hot as a corset, he should have challenged him a lot sooner then.

“No, I said would look damn good in one, given the chance-” he answered as he secured the last clasp in the front. “-looks like Seth was calling my bluff.. but I’ll show him.”

As annoyed his boyfriend was at their teammate, some deep carnal part in Roman was tempted to send their third member a thank you card with care package for giving Dean this gift.

“Romieee…” Dean called out to him again, finally getting his full attention. “You mind helping me out here big dog?”

Roman gulped and took a deep breath before he made his way towards the other man. Dean was too busy trying to read the instructions that came with the package, if he would have looked up at the mirror in front of him then he would have been able to see Roman’s face absolutely slacked at the image he made in front of him.

The corset was a pretty little thing. It I didn’t go high enough to cover Dean’s chest. The edge just meeting under his pecs. The baby blue of the satin reminded him of Dean’s own baby blue eyes just looking too sweet and innocent to belong to a man as wild as his lover was. The black lace piping running down the whole thing curving inward and out shaping Dean’s middle already smaller than usual. Roman couldn’t help but wonder how much smaller it would look when he wore it properly.

“It says here there should be two pieces of ribbon; one running down from the top, and one running up from the bottom.” Dean read out loud.

Roman could only nod and grunt affirmatively, not knowing the filth that would have spilled out if he dared to speak.

“Ok, next the ribbon should already have gone through the holes in a crisscross manner.” Dean continued to read along.

Again, Roman could only nod.

“Ok, so now, listen carefully.” Dean casually commanded, at this point the Samoan was so hung up on the blonds every word he would be able to make him do anything right now. “You carefully pull on the ends of the ribbon alternating between the top and the bottom ribbons, all the while adjusting the modesty flap..”

Roman couldn’t stop himself but reach out to the soft looking ribbon. The silk feeling so smooth against his fingers. Carefully, he searched about to find the modesty flap on the back made to cover any skin from being exposed where the ends of the corset met. He couldn’t help but run one of his fingers down that tiny patch of skin underneath the ribbon before covering it with the extra piece of satin.

“Do this carefully, and slowly…” Dean continued to read.

Roman absolutely did not need to be told. He was more than ready to savor such an intimate act between them. His eyes were laser focused on the delicate fabric right in front of him. He pulled at the ribbon cautiously at first, starting with the top portion slowly getting pulling it tighter and tighter to show how his lover’s ribs could be drawn inward like the funnel of the hour glass.

Next, he concentrated on the lower ribbon which was tasked to cinched in his boyfriend’s soft middle even smaller than it already was. Slowly, inch by gentle inch, Roman got to witness the shape that was forming in front of his eyes.

“Is this ok?” he asked breathlessly, sounding like he was running a marathon rather than help his boyfriend with is lingerie.

“Yeah… feels good.” He gasped out an answer.

Dean’s voice making Roman’s blood boil. He really should be asking more frequently, but his eyes and his hands and everything in his body was just screaming at him, hell bent on seeing how much smaller his lover’s waist could get.

“Hmmmmmm…” Dean moaned between his bitten lower lip.

Roman looked up at the mirror, worried he’d see Dean’s beautiful face in pain but was only met with flushed cheeks and blown out eyes. Those eyes he had thought matched the light blue of the lingerie now grew dark and wide. He couldn’t get his own eyes off of him.

It was the sudden feel of Dean’s backside against his raging hardon that made him break eye contact. He screwed his eyes shut, and groaned, willing himself to keep it together and not cum right then and there.

“Romie…” Dean’s voice came through teasingly musical to his ears. Roman finally found the concentration to open his eyes to look up at him again, this time meeting his lovers smirk on his lips. “You like it?” he asked and before Roman could even begin to think of an answer, Dean had pushed back his ass again, certainly meeting the bulge that was forming under Roman’s sweats.

That’s when he snapped.

Roman practically roared as he pulled off Dean’s own sweatpants and have it fall down to his ankles. The sight of his lover’s ass making him kneel right in front of it. Roman had always loved Dean’s ass. It was wide and soft and firm. He had always loved how big it would look given Dean’s shape, but now with the damn corset on it made the contrast even more evident. The wide back, falling to that little waist, followed by an even more pronounced hips and ass. Roman was fucking ready to worship what laid in front of him.

He grabbed the globes of his ass greedily. The darkness of his own skin contrasting beautifully against his lover’s creamy white complexion. His thumbs meeting in the middle only to pull them apart to reveal the tight little bud in between. That made Roman groan once more as he just fell forward to cover that lovely ass in kisses. His mouth moving closer and closer to the center where his tongue could finally taste his lover in the best possible way.

Dean moaned as he bucked his hips forward and back, Roman just following everyway possible chasing his lover’s taste. He flicked his tongue up and down, and around, making that tight little bud soft and pliant. Broad strokes of flat of his tongue covering it with so much spit some of it fell down the Samoan’s goatee. Going between licking his asshole to making tiny love bites all around. Roman was moaning so loudly he knew he sounded obscene even with his lover’s skin muffling every sound he made.

“Roman, please…” Dean begged.

The other man found the strength to pull back. His eyes looking up finding his lover’s arched back beautifully, and his face right against the mirror, covering it in steam. Dean was wrecked, and a deep sense of pride grew inside of Roman knowing exactly that he was the very cause of that.

“What is it baby boy?” he asked, his voice raggedly harsh. When Dean could only moan an intelligible answer. Roman made quick little spank on one ass cheek, which made Dean jump and practically hump the bathroom counter. Roman knew his baby would have a bruise on his hip later, but neither of them really cared. Maybe Roman could add a couple of bruises there himself later on. “I asked what do you need baby boy?”

Dean shook his head as if to scatter away the cloudiness of his arousal to find the words he was so desperately trying to find.

“More. Please...” He begged again.

Roman rose to his feet and grabbed Dean, one hand on his hip and another hand on his shoulder to pull him flushed, Dean’s back meeting Roman’s front. He moved from shoulder, across his collarbone. Roman’s large hand possessively wrapped around Dean’s vulnerable neck. Under anyone else’s, Dean might have flinched, but not with Roman. Never with him. Roman’s other hand ran from hip to Dean’s exposed chest. His kneading his chest and playing with his nipples.

He couldn’t help himself but look up at the mirror to stare at the image his boy made. Dean’s face flushed and sweaty and blushing. His bottom lip between his teeth. His broad shoulder and chest looking even more so before it met the lingerie. The corset looking so fucking perfect on his lover. Tight and strong as it held his cinched shape underneath all that, but also soft and delectable. Again, perfect like his baby boy.

“You look so fucking good like this baby boy.” Roman said against the soft skin where Dean’s neck met his shoulder. Leaving even more kisses and bites as he spoke. “Just so fucking beautiful for me baby… your shoulders-” kiss. “Your chest-” pinch. “And that goddamn delicate looking waist of yours, driving me crazy” thrust, his still covered erection against he wet, soft, and pliant curve of his ass.

Too his credit, Dean gave as much as he got. Ducking his head down to find Roman’s thumb and taking it into his mouth. His soft lips and tongue wrapping themselves warmly around the appendage before giving it a bite then letting go. Roman didn’t think he could want the other man even more.

“Fuck me.” Dean commanded, before he pushed his ass back even harder against his lover’s bulge. “Fuck me just like this…” another push back.

He frantically reached over to their bathroom counter, searching for any form of lube he could find. Thankfully he did find a somewhat forgotten bottle in the back, thank god for shower sex. He covered his fingers in the gel, warming it up for a second before he reached down and started to tease his lover’s tight hole. No matter how many times they had done this, Roman was always amazed at how fucking tight Dean always seemed to be. His tiny little bud, wet from being under the onslaught of his tongue only minutes ago, began to open up welcoming Roman’s thick fingers into his pliant heat. Dean began to moan as fingers pushed inside him, only to come back out wet and hot. It didn’t take long until he was taking three at a time, and he was begging for more. Roman will never grow tired of this.

“Ro, please.. fuck me ready.” He begged.

Roman knew he was right. Dean was ready, but he couldn’t help but teased him just even just a little bit. “So fucking needy for me are you baby…” he shoved his fingers deeper into him, making his lover gasp once more. “Just can’t fucking wait to have my cock in to, can you?” he teased with a twist of his fingers.

“Hmmmm… can’t wait for you to fuck me so hard you make m cum all over myself” Dean moaned one more time before he gave that devilish smile of his with that challenge in his eyes.

Once that seed was planted into Roman’s mind, there was no getting rid of it until he fulfilled his lover’s demand. Me made quick work of his sweats, pushing them down and letting them fall to his ankles, and practically ripping his shirt as he pulled it off of him. Using the excess lube on his hand, he quickly coated his cock till it shined, matching his lover’s hole which was impatiently winking at him.

He wanted him. He wanted him so fucking badly. He had to force himself to slow, to make this last. With measured breathes, he carefully guided himself into his lover. Watching his cock slowly disappear inch by inch. Whatever worry he had for his lover’s state faded as quickly as he felt Dean’s welcoming heat swallow him up. Goddamn so fucking tight, it made him light headed. He closed his eyes needing to get a some fucking control over himself. Once he felt like he did, he slowly opened his eyes and fucking lost it all over again.

The looking down he could only see the very base of himself peaking between those soft mounds. His hips meeting his curves. His eyes slowly trailing up reminded by the gorgeous way his lover’s waist looked so beautifully delicate and tight and soft. Roman had to grab Dean by the hips to steady himself, that tender bruise from the counter most probably blooming prettily. Roman wanted to make it worse.

“God damn it Roman, fuck me already!” Dean’s desperate plea finally breaking through his lovers daze.

That was all the encouragement Roman need. Pulling out until only his cockhead was left, Roman made a vicious thrust back in that made his lover arch against his corset and scream his name. Roman needed to do that again. Did it again. And again. His thrusting growing manic. The slap of their skin filling their tiny bathroom. The smell of their sweat mingling with the scent of their soap and shampoo oddly reminding Roman who fucking intimate this was.

“Oh my God…” Dean was moaning against he glass. His face smushed carelessly against the cool surface. His mouth open steaming up desperately. His tongue hanging off after a particularly loud moan before he bit his lips close. “So good.. so fucking good.. Roman.. fuck…”

No one’s ever seen Dean look like this; in a beautiful silk and satin blue corset that molded him into soft curves. No one’s ever made Dean sound like this; begging and pleading for his cock. No one’s ever made Dean feel this way, like he said so. No one but fucking Roman. He will that that fucking honor to his grave.

Roman fucked Dean like the world was ending. Like this was their last night together and they had nothing left to lose. Roman fucked Dean worrying this could be the only time he gets to see him this fucking pretty and cinched up for him. He fucked him harder than they have ever had before so his baby boy will never forget the time he drove Roman so fucking crazy like this.

“Close… close…” Dean warned him, his voice hitting almost a panic. “So fucking close. Roman…”

With as much strength he could muster, Roman pulled Dean back onto his dick, forcing the younger man to fall forward landing on his elbows on top of the marble counter top. Bent over to Roman’s fucking mercy.

Roman followed. His bare chest and stomach against Dean’s sweaty back and smooth corset. Sacrificing one hand away from Dean’s hip, he reached down to wrap his fingers around lover’s needy cock. His touch was like a live wire, making Dean’s pull his head back up and practically howl appreciatively. With every long and quick stroke, Roman matched it with a thrust. His hips and hand working together to bring his baby boy to newer heights as he climbed and he climbed. When his breath started to hitch the way it did right on the cusp of an orgasm, Roman leaned forward and latched his teeth on his lover’s shoulder and bit down. Hard.

Dean screamed but without any sound as his orgasm was ripped from him. His cock spurting all over their tiled floor and covering Roman’s warm and demanding hand. His elbows finally giving up on him and made Dean lay his blushing face against the cold marble.

The way his lover’s ass spasmed around his cock so tight it nearly made Roman shed tears it felt so good. Just a little bit more. Just a couple more strokes.

“Pull out!” Dean commanded in a tired and raspy voice.

Roman heard but couldn’t listen. How the fuck could he. He only groaned in protest, for an inkling of a thought he reminded himself of an animal right now.

“I said, pull out!” He commanded again, before Roman could complain Dean added. “I want you to cum all over my corset.”

Like a switch only Dean could flip, Roman thrusted just a couple more times until he was right almost there and pulled away from his lovers warmth. He then grasped himself in his hand. The same hand still covered in his baby boy’s cum, now all over himself as he touched himself to completion. Aiming his hot hard cock at pale soft blue and ribbons.

That fucking image of his spent lover in nothing but a corset bent over their bathroom counter finally made him explode. His body violently jerking as he felt his desperate release. Thick ribbons of cum falling on black ribbons and satin. Roman was felt himself leave himself if that were fucking possible.

The only sounds filling the room was their harsh breaths, and the wild beating of his heart. Though Roman couldn’t hear Dean’s directly, he was sure it beat just as hard. Roman was still somewhat out of it when he felt Dean’s delicate fingers reaching out towards him. His hand meeting his own while it remained wrapped around his still hard cock. He didn’t know what he was doing until Dean had guided him back into himself and Roman felt the hypersensitivity prickling his skin it was so good. Absolutely nothing beat being inside of him. Nothing.

Roman fell forward. His face falling against Dean’s spine, cradled by his shoulder blades. He never wanted to move again. But Dean had another idea.

He felt his hand again passing him hard plastic, which after gaining some level of full consciousness back he realized was his phone. Before he could ask him the question, he answered breathlessly.

“Take a picture.” He said.

“What?” Roman asked.

“I said take a picture.” He repeated, while he seemed to motion to the corset.

Maybe Roman was just too damn out of it to argue, but he found the energy to lift himself off of him and point the camera phone on the sight he had left. Thick creamy cum contrast on black and blue lingerie. If he wasn’t so damn spent, he was sure he would have gotten hard in an instant. He took the photo and gave the phone back to Dean and instantly fell back against his back.

Dean only laughed breathlessly as he quickly attached the picture to a message and sent it to a soon to be traumatized Seth Rollins with the message ‘thanks’.

***