#they realise they have always been together beyond those glass doors with each other and with Chris

[dr-shortsighted-owl]

FROM

The first time Buck meets Chris being after driving Eddie to Chris’s school post-earthquake, watching them reunite from the jeep through the school’s glass doors - knowing Eddie had been so worried about the son he adores

TO

the potential of the final being an earthquake, the boys all worn out; recovering together on Eddie’s couch in their little respective areas of the cushions they’ve chosen over the years, Chris between them - no glass doors, no barriers now - truly realising they’re a family

[jostepherjoestar]

Rodeo Gyro

notsfw !! // gn reader // taking care of Gyro and thigh riding 

notes/warnings: thigh riding, mild biting, gyro teasing reader

I really wanted to write an nsfw Gyro fic since that cowboy makes my brain mushy. So here it is 🥰 yeehaw besties 💖✨

link to AO3

–NSFW BELOW THE CUT– MINORS DNI –

“On your left!” You grunted out with a heave as you tossed the hay bale towards Gyro. Droplets of sweat trickled down your skin, forehead already soaked from the heat and the beads running down your back not making it easier not to flinch as they settled at the base of your spine. It’s another scorching summer and the stables are worse off than the outside. You were never one to hate a good nap in the hay come wintertime, but during summers like these you wished to step out of your skin itself for some relief.

The blond easily caught your throw, letting out a small sound on impact he’d rather you didn’t hear. Can’t have you thinking he’s handling this heat any worse than you, now can he? Although, his shirt has been long gone. He proudly announced that Italians know how to handle heat, boasting that his grandfather worked in 45 degree weather and never as much as peeped about it.

You had rolled your eyes at his statement but the annoyance at his antics soon faded when he had revealed his torso.

His skin was a beautiful olive hue, no tan lines, indicating he had probably spent his spare time just as shirtless as now. The muscled lines surging over him seemed sculpted by God themself, a dewy shine having already settled on his godly abs and pecs.

And his arms, oh his arms. Those hay bales had kept him fighting-fit and soon your eyes trailed the expanse of his chest where short curly planes of hair rested, only further emphasising his muscular pecs.

Like you were being guided by the valleys and streams of a gorgeous landscape, you arrived right at the river mouth: a trail of more short curly hairs barely visible by their champagne colour leading you down a path of despair you’d happily embark on. It led all the way from his belly button down to where his jeans started, his signature belt buckle making you realise just how dry your throat had gotten.

And all this in a mere second, or two. Or at least five, who are you kidding? You had cleared your throat and resumed throwing Gyro the hay bales one by one, trying your hardest to focus on the task at hand. It had been going well too, a steady pace made time fly by quickly. Just a couple more to go and you’d be able to gulp down a liter of water and a glass of iced tea to top it off.

If only that glimmer of a bead of sweat making its way down Gyro’s sculpted back hadn’t distracted you. As Gyro slowly turned, time almost seeming to have slowed, you threw the bale right at his middle, much lower than anticipated and landing it straight into his ribs. You gasped and rushed over quickly to your helping hand who was bent over and breathing out painful wheezes.

“Watch where you throw those! Christ…almost knocked me back to Napoli”

But he regained his unaffected self after a few deep breaths, while you knew how heavy these stupid bales were. He swatted you off as soon as you tried to check the place of impact.

“Sorry Gyro…I got distracted! Uh, if you want I can finish up alone!”

You felt bad for letting him get caught in the crossfire of your longing stares, cursing this damn heat once again. He only brushed you off with another quip and urged you to throw the last couple ones faster so you’d both be done quicker. You could clearly see the hit bothered him but he remained ever prideful and kept on working till the last bale was stacked.

“Hey I’m sorry, man. I’ll watch out better next time. I think I have a salve that’s really good at soothing pain. I can go-“

Before you could even finish Gyro tutted, waving his hands a little too close to your face and scrunching his nose.

“That’s enough, I’m a grown man, I’ll live”

And with that he grumbled off, back to the main house where Johnny had been resting on the porch, trying just as hard to beat the heat.

—

Ointment in hand and as stubborn as the Italian you were bringing it to, you knocked on Gyro’s bedroom door. He had his own private guest room at Johnny’s place, they’ve basically moved in together but neither is admitting to it for some god-knows silly reason. But as much as they’re best friends, you’ve also got a neat spot on Johnny’s moderate ranch he acquired after the race. A bed to sleep in and a roof over your head for when you’re helping out at the stables like today.

Your knock was curtly answered, the door being swung open in one swift move, sending your hair flying in the startling wind of his antics.

A bit taken aback by his brashness you cautiously stepped inside. You were used to Gyro’s behaviour by now and had a feeling he was feeling a little grumpy, since he always gets like this when he’s hurt but too prideful to admit it.

“So I got you the ointment…” you leaned on the heels of your boots tentatively, trying not to stare at him.

Gyro had moved back into the chaise longue that rested at the end of his bed, obviously miffed, clenching his jaw while crossing his legs. Obviously the idiot was in pain with every move, and badly trying to hide it too.

“Gyro, stop being such a baby. Here-“ you slid over and joined him, the little glass jar already opened by the time your behind fully met the soft cushioned seating.

“ ‘M not being a baby. Just- do your stupid ointment thing please” He huffed under his breath, uncrossing his legs again.

“You uh, you’re gonna need to take off your shirt for that. Do you need help?”

Your question might have been earnest, filled with care for your close friend and his well being, but a small part of you was chomping at the bit to see his beautiful torso again. This time, even closer.

“Fine. Try not to stare as much though, darling. That’s what got me stuck with this pain in the first place” his remark was quick, finally turning to face you, his big golden grin shining back at you. Like his grills were rubbing salt in the gaping wound you didn’t know he knew about.

“Oh-“ you paused, trying to control the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Well. Shut up before I poke your bruise!” you scooped up a small dollop of the cooling ointment, hand hovering just above the already purple spot forming on his ribs. You really did a number on him with that hay bale.

Gyro clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, friendly bickering between you two was never far off. But his cheeky annoyance quickly washed away as the cooling gel met his warm skin. Your touch was gentle, rubbing circles on the sore area while your other hand rested on his waist. You looked so focused, your brow scrunched up and lips pressed tightly together in concentration. He’d always thought it was cute how lost you could get in your tasks. And he was beyond pleased he was your task for the moment. So pleased in fact, that he found no use in holding back his wiles anymore. Perhaps the lack of sweet and caring touches got to him- not that his pride would let him admit that fact.

“Say, why’re you holding on to me so tightly, sweetheart? I won’t run” Gyro teased, his tone dropping down to a sultry smooth grit that made your cheeks heat up once more. His comment made you snap out of your focus, realising that he’d been right. His comment only making you want the earth to swallow you whole.

“Just trying to be thorough, Gyro. A-and you were squirming! Now let me finish-“ you defended yourself. Not that you seemed all too sure of your case, the way Gyro smirked at you made your resolve falter more and more with each second passing.

“I wasn’t squirming” his eyes had all but cast over with a deeper hue of alluring emerald. His calloused hand now gently holding your wrist. You could only helplessly stare up at him, the shift in mood not having gone unnoticed. A familiar heat already earning footing between your thighs. Somewhere deep inside you were scolding yourself, angry at Gyro’s effect on you. Letting yourself get distracted and now turning to putty when he’s only holding on to your wrist. Angry that you wanted nothing more than for him to continue whatever scheme he was up to.

With your wrist still in hand, Gyro closed the small glass jar of ointment and slid it further along the chaise longue.

“Well I must thank you for taking care of me, even if it was your fault I got hurt-“ The fires blazing in your eyes and the sour look you shot at his remark only made him chuckle.

“Yes, Gyro. I was there.” Through gritted teeth and nothing short of annoyed you tried to tug your wrist out of his hold. It only made him tighten it around you.

“I wasn’t done talking, darling.” He tutted.

“Let me return the favour. I’m feeling charitable today”

“Gyro, what?” You rolled your eyes, what was this idiot getting at? First, he gets all sensual and now he’s straight up teasing you. Not that it wasn’t just as titillating, his pet names for you only made your head swim and thighs clamp together.

His answer was clear, setting you down on his lap in a quick move that caught you by surprise. And there you were, the spot you’ve only fantasised of being. His natural musk having become the very air you breathed to survive. Stunned and still slightly confused you let him put your arms around his neck. Your legs however, were strategically placed on either side of one of his thighs.

“You in for the ride? I won’t hold it against you if you want us to stop” His tone was sincere, gaze softened just enough to let you know it was alright.

“Y-yes. Yes. I- yes Gyro” you sputtered. God, this was embarrassing but you were glad you didn’t sound as desperate as you really were to be this close to him. At least you thought so.

And with that, the blond cowboy was satisfied, letting out a little “nyoho” that somehow remained sultry.

You suddenly became all too aware why he’d placed you like this, over his thigh. But there wasn’t much time to think, not when Gyro moved into your neck, placing soft kisses along your jawline. His lips were softer than you’d expected. His breaths so nice and warm whenever he moved further down your sensitive skin.  

“I’ve seen you ride,” he murmured into your skin just below your left ear. “Now show me how it’s done, cowboy” goosebumps rose all over your skin, letting out a shuddering moan as he bit into you. Not quite hard enough to make you yelp out in pain, but just enough for you to rock your hips straight into his tensed thigh.

He continued his assault on your neck, bites and kisses alternated on each side as you rocked your needy heat on him. With a particularly hard bite, your arm snapped to right next to Gyro, exactly where his hat had been laying on the chair. Even in the heat of the moment you grabbed it and plopped it down onto his champagne locks.

“Keep it on please” your breath shuddered as you continued. He had moved his lips to your shoulders now, moving away your top to reach every spot he wished to worship.

Every swish of your hips drove you further and further, lost in the pleasure as your head felt like it might just explode. Tingles had already started making their way up your abdomen when Gyro released himself from your skin.

“Tell me what you want,” He asked roughly. He was having a hard time keeping it together, it seemed.  

“Y-you, Gyro” you whimpered, slowing yourself and burying your face inside the crook of his neck. Too embarrassed to face his stare just yet.

“I know that, sweetheart. But tell me what is you want exactly”

“Gyro…” you whined, burying yourself even deeper.

“Yes?” He quipped, pulling himself back and taking your chin between his thumb and index finger, that stupid grin antagonising you.

Cheeks heated and puffy you had no choice but to give in. “I want you to fuck me Gyro. Are you happy now?”

“Nyoho, very happy! I knew that” he laughed.

“Oh fuck you!” You grimaced, still trying to chase that fleeting peak that you were so close to.

“I like hearing you beg for it, darling” his lips had finally met yours, melting away any and all of his teasing, just like that. God, he made it so easy to give into him. He was just as playful now though, swirling his tongue and clashing his lips with yours like he was taming you.

As he continued his sloppy passionate kiss back down your jaw, you sped up your riding. Never one to finish last.

One last peck and one last tug of your skin between his golden clad teeth and you could feel fireworks rising all the way up to the top of your head. Gyro grinned widely as he admired you, using him like he’d asked you to. One less thing he needs to fantasise about, he’s living it. And eating up every single second of it, the throbbing in his pants nearly took care of itself. He stared in awe, your face contorting in pleasure as you tried your best to contain your desperate moans. Your breath was ragged as you came down from your high, letting your full weight rest on his thigh even though you were beyond sensitive at this point.

“You’ve never looked better riding like that, beautiful” a single soft peck touched the tip of your nose, the gesture was surprisingly gentle.

You had regained your senses enough to start up your own round of teasing. Sporting the same grin he had just a minute ago, you started pushing him down the chaise longue, landing him on his back.

“Oh?” He quirked an eyebrow. The pain in his ribs all but forgotten thanks to your treatment.

“I ain’t done riding just yet. Better hold on to that hat cowboy” slick as ever you dove down to return a forceful kiss that nearly knocked the breath out of Gyro. Not before letting out a “nyoho” in his surprise.

Oh, he was going to like this even more than your last rodeo.  

[rosiesung]

7 Days || Y.JW

for @geminirules "Just Friends" collab

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Pairing: Jungwon x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Friends to Lovers AU

Words: 3.63k

Warnings: Reader calls Jungwon a dick.

Synopsis: You are dared to pretend to be in a relationship with your best friend Jungwon. Initially, you go through with the childish challenge, knowing it will be insignificant to your friendship. But as the days pass, you begin to realise your true feelings for him. Will your revelations ruin your friendship? Or will something beautiful blossom because of them?

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"I dare you to pretend like you're dating Jungwon for a whole week."

You looked at your best friend with wide eyes, a similar expression of surprise on his face. There was no way you were going to do that. It would be way too awkward.

"Come on y/n. Don't be a party pooper. It's not like you guys are going to fall in love."

Of course things wouldn't turn out that way. No matter what, nothing would change the way you saw Jungwon. He would always remain your best friend and nothing more.

Jungwon looked too embarrassed to say anything. Both of you knew it was just a dare. What was the worst that could happen?

"Fine. Starting tomorrow Jungwon's my unofficial-official boyfriend," you announced, linking your arm with his. Jungwon hid his face in his hands as everyone around you screamed and cheered. This was going to be one interesting week.

~

☀︎ DAY 1 ☀︎

Since you only had to put on a show in front of your friends, you figured the best thing to do would be to hang out with Jungwon in solitude. He didn't have a problem with your plan. You both had been having playdates together ever since you were three. He was comfortable being alone with you.

Both of you met at your secret spot. A small grove behind the schoolyard. It was a place the two of you had found while skipping classes one day. Ever since then, this was where you spent time together whenever you needed some peace and quiet.

"I can't believe you actually agreed to this," Jungwon said, mindlessly plucking the grass he laid on. You sighed, staring at the row of trees beyond. "A dare's a dare. Besides, we have nothing to worry about because we don't have feelings for each other."

Jungwon sat up. "You know that we can't avoid all of them for the entire week right? They're literally planning to hang out at the cafe just so they can see us in the act." He sounded worried. There was no need to be.

"Of course I know that. So what? We'll let them see what they want to. It's not like they're going to make us kiss or something. The most we'll do is feed each other and hold hands."

Unlike Jungwon, you had already thought everything out. You knew how far to go while respecting the boundaries of your friendship. All Jungwon had to do was trust you.

He cringed in disgust at your words. "You're going to pay for landing me in this mess. We've barely even started and I already feel so miserable."

You patted his shoulder, flashing him an assuring smile. "You're not alone in your miser mister. After this is over, I'll do all your homework for you."

Jungwon laughed. "Learn how to do your own first. Then you can come and ruin mine."

~

☀︎ DAY 2 ☀︎

As Jungwon had predicted, your friends called you out to the cafe. Both of you were supposed to show up together. Jungwon met you a block away from the cafe, looking incredibly reluctant. "Are you sure you want to do this," he asked, just about ready to turn back around.

There was a determined look in your eyes. "Remember when he had to play Hansel and Gretel's parents for that play we did in preschool?" Jungwon nodded. He could never forget that day. "If we managed to get through that, we can get through this without a problem."

That made sense. Appreciative of your pep talk, Jungwon took your hand and whisked you away to the cafe.

By the time you reached your destination, both your hands were sweaty. Jungwon was just as nervous as you were. Not only because you had to pretend like you were dating, but also because your friends weren't going to miss the opportunity to tease you.

Seeing you two enter hand in hand, everyone began hooting and cheering. Jungwon's cheeks flushed almost immediately. You had to drag him towards the table you were supposed to sit at. "It's nice to see you two arriving together," one of your friends said, making space for you.

Taking a seat, you watched in horror as they placed a glass of juice with two straws in front of you both. No one had to explain what its purpose was. You glanced at Jungwon whose eyes were fixated on the glass hesitantly.

"If we get this over with now we'll be at peace," you whispered, leaning forward to place one of the straws between your lips. You looked away when Jungwon did the same, feeling the heat in his face on your cheek. You were certain you had never downed a drink so fast in your life. It didn't take long for you to finish the contents of the glass, quickly sitting back up to catch your breath. Your friends couldn't seem to get enough of the event, laughing and clapping avidly.

"You guys are so cute," some said. "Both of you would make such a nice couple in reality," said others.

Sitting there amongst your terribly evil friends, you wondered how you were going to get through the next five days with Jungwon.

~

☀︎ DAY 3 ☀︎

Your friends had invited you to another escapade at the park. You couldn't tell what they had in plan this time but you were sure it wasn't going to be enjoyable. At least this time, you and Jungwon didn't have to show up hand in hand.

When you reached the park, Jungwon was already there. Your friends beckoned you over, making you stand next to him.

"Now that our subjects have arrived, here's your to-do list. First, remain holding hands the entire time we are here. Second, Jungwon, give y/n your jacket if she starts feeling cold. Third, walk her back home and make sure you give her a nice, sweet little kiss before she goes inside."

Jungwon let out a noise of surprise. He wanted to run as far as he could and never come back. Holding your hand was fine. He had gotten used to it because of the previous day. He didn't mind giving you his jacket, but you were already wearing one so he didn't see why he would find the need to. Jungwon could do many things. But kissing you was not one of them. It didn't matter if it was on your cheek, your forehead, or the back of your hand, because there was no way on earth that he would bring his lips anywhere near yours.

What neither of you realized was that your friends were willing to go to the farthest lengths to make sure you went through with their tasks. They made you two walk in front of them so that they could see your hands intertwined. When the sun went down and the air started getting colder, they made you take your jacket off so that Jungwon would be left with no choice but to give you his. Just when it seemed like your night of torture would come to an end, they even made you share a single cone of ice cream. When it was finally time to go home, two of your friends followed behind you to make sure that Jungwon did his bidding. It was awkward enough walking through your neighborhood hand in hand. Those who knew you cast looks of confusion and surprise upon you two. Eventually, you reached your doorstep. Jungwon let go of your hand, standing in front of you. He looked everywhere but at you, avoiding your gaze. You glanced behind your shoulder, rolling your eyes when you saw your two friends filming you from behind your neighbor's car. They weren't even attempting to be discrete.

"Hurry up and kiss me already. This is too embarrassing," you urged, slapping Jungwon's arm. He sucked in a breath, pressing his lips in a thin line. "Do you think it's not for me? I mean, I'm the one who has to kiss you for heaven's sake."

"Stop pitying yourself and just get on with it. The longer we stand here the more reason they'll have to punish us tomorrow."

Jungwon stared at you long and hard. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned forward, pressing his lips onto yours without a second thought. You froze, eyes going so wide they might have popped out of your head. Even though it was probably only for two seconds, it felt like an eternity. Time froze as you stood in the foreign feeling of his lips on yours. He pulled away almost immediately, skipping down your driveway as fast as he could with a short wave and 'good night'. Still stunned, you entered your home, breaking into a smile when you closed the door.

~

☀︎ DAY 4 ☀︎

The next day, Jungwon asked you to meet him at your secret spot. So far, your friends hadn't made any plans to get you together. You saw Jungwon sitting in the middle of the grove, laying down on the damp grass as he usually did. Walking over, you sat down beside him, flicking his forehead so that he would open his eyes.

He grinned on seeing you, sitting up with a soft groan. "So, how was your night?"

You furrowed your brows at the question. It wasn't like him to ask you things like that. But you decided to overlook it. Maybe he was still feeling a bit awkward after the kiss you both hard shared the previous night.

You shrugged. "It was fine. How was yours?"

"I couldn't sleep," he revealed. It sounded like he'd been dying to tell you. "Why's that," you asked, believing that you had an idea of the reason.

"Last night scarred me," Jungwon shared, pretending to gag. You didn't know why, but hearing him say that made your heart sink. Suddenly, you felt horrible. "Was it really that bad," you asked, genuinely curious to know what he thought of it. Jungwon nodded, making you feel even worse. "It was worse than I thought it would be," he added. Your eyes started stinging. A lump formed in your throat and the longer you held it back, the more it hurt. You knew you hadn't been eager to kiss him, but you would argue about how 'bad' it was. But bringing that up right now would just be stupid. Jungwon would misunderstand where you were coming for and that would just lead to another disaster entirely. You had told yourself that you weren't going to let this dare get to you, but four days in you were already slipping. The longer you sat there, listening to Jungwon whine and complain about everything he'd had to do with you so far, the harder it became to control your emotion. Not able to take it anymore, you got up abruptly and ran away, leaving Jungwon sitting there extremely puzzled.

~

☀︎ DAY 5 ☀︎

You didn't respond to any of Jungwon's calls or texts. You didn't have it in you to face him. He would be disappointed if he found out the real reason behind your sappy mood. So you were gonna wait till you got over it before facing him.

You still couldn't believe that you had been so affected by Jungwon saying that he hated the kiss. Despite telling yourself that you disliked it too, you couldn't help but think otherwise. There was something so magical about it. You had never felt that way because of a kiss before. Whenever you thought back to it, an exciting warmth rippled through your mind. Your heart danced in glee and a wide smile formed on your lips.

But you weren't supposed to feel that way. Jungwon was your best friend. Besides, he hadn't kissed you willingly. You didn't understand why it felt so special to you when it clearly meant nothing to him. You knew you couldn't blame him for that. His mind was wired to see you as nothing more than a friend. You found it hilarious. Here you were, realizing that you probably liked your best friend after having continuously assured yourself and him that something like that would never happen. The sad part was that Jungwon would never reciprocate your feelings. You were all alone in this.

A knock sounded at your window, startling you. Slipping out of your reverie, you glanced towards it, eyes widening in surprise when you saw Jungwon crouched before it. You didn't think twice before letting him in. He entered your room and stood in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest. "You wanna explain what happened yesterday?"

You frowned and turned away shoulders slouching disinterestedly. "Is that what you came here for," you asked, regretting letting him in?

"Well did I have a choice? You've been blatantly ignoring me while all I've been trying to do is make sure you're alright," he said, stepping closer to you.

"I'm fine. If that's all you needed to hear, you can leave now," you replied. You didn't need him prying and prodding at you right now.

Jungwon stood his ground, clearly not satisfied with your answer. "No, you're not y/n. You aren't fine. Tell me what's bothering you."

You sighed and faced him. "Trust me, you wouldn't want to know."

Jungwon furrowed his brows. He didn't know what that meant. "I think I'll be the judge of that."

"It's you. You're bothering me," you spoke, narrowing your eyes at him. Jungwon hadn't been expecting that. But he didn't let the surprise show on his face. "What did I do?"

"You made me feel so worthless and undesirable. But that's not your fault. I can't blame you because you're right to think that way about me. I'm just pitying myself here and there's nothing you can do about it so please, just leave me alone." The tears were coming back again. You didn't want to break down in front of Jungwon. His face fell. He didn't know what to say to that. He thought you knew he was just being overdramatic. He seriously hadn't meant to hurt you. Before he could apologize, you turned to him. "I don't think I'll be good at keeping this a secret, so let me just tell you that I'm starting to catch feelings for you. If that makes you uncomfortable then you can leave. If you have something to say, just say it and go. But don't ask me why I feel the way I do because that's something I'm yet to figure out."

Jungwon was at a loss for words. He stood there, gaping at you like an open-mouthed fish before turning on his heel and exiting through your bedroom door. You heard your mother yelp on seeing him, probably wondering where he had shown up from. A part of you wished that he hadn't left, but the other was glad that he was gone. You felt like a fool for letting all of this happen. You should have never agreed to this dare. Who would have thought it would lead to something like this? There was nothing you could do now. There was no way you could change the way you felt. Because at the end of the day, it was as clear as ever, that you were undeniably in love with your best friend Yang Jungwon.

~

☀︎ DAY 6 ☀︎

Jungwon couldn't stop thinking about everything you had told him yesterday. He would never have imagined that you would catch feelings, especially through such a childish dare. Your friends had called you out to the park again today, but Jungwon wasn't going to go. He knew you wouldn't be there so there was no point. He wished he could tell you that he hadn't meant half the things he'd said about the kiss at the grove that day. He was just trying to show you that the kiss hadn't made him feel some type of way. Not just that, but he was also attempting to persuade himself that he indeed had loathed it. Maybe he should have been truthful instead of lying about it.

This was exactly what he'd been afraid of. Jungwon was always fond of you. He cared for you and he wouldn't lie when he said that he loved you. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that maybe he felt that way because he thought of you as more than a friend. Jungwon didn't want to convince himself that he liked you just because you had confessed to him. He wanted to understand the way he truly felt about you.

He knew every little thing about you. No one knew you as well as he did. Jungwon cherished your friendship and the time he spent with you. Whenever anything bugged him, he always came to you, knowing that you were the only person who could make things better. He relied on you more than anyone else. He couldn't go a day without speaking to you. After yesterday, he realized how important you were to him. The fear of losing you ate at him the longer he stayed away from you.

Jungwon hated knowing that you were sad. It hurt more to know that he was the reason behind it. He wanted nothing more than to hug you and apologize for making you feel bad. He felt guilty for everything he had done. It had only been a couple hours since he had last spoken to you, but it felt longer. He missed you so much.

So he left you a text, asking you to meet him at your secret spot. He kept his phone close, waiting till you replied. But you didn't. You probably wanted nothing to do with him. Nonetheless, he still hoped and prayed that you would give him one last chance to make things right again. He couldn't afford to lose someone as special as you. There was nothing for him if he didn't have you.

~

☀︎ DAY 7 ☀︎

Jungwon laid in the grass, staring at the dull sky above. It was filled with clouds, hiding the sun. The grove felt so big and endless when he was alone. When he was with you, it was much more cozy and bright, even if the atmosphere was gloomy.

He had been waiting for you for quite a long time now. You hadn't replied to his message last night, but he knew you had seen it. Just before he was about to lose hope, he heard the grass crunch a few feet away from him. Jungwon didn't have to look to know it was you. No one else knew the path to get here.

"What do you want," you asked, voice small but laced with malice. You were cross with him. Jungwon wished to change that today. He patted the space next to him. "Let's not pretend like we hate each other. You could do the worst thing to me but I'd still admire you."

You didn't argue and sat down beside him. Other than the tension in the air, everything felt normal. There was a scowl on your face. It must have taken a lot of convincing for you to come here. Jungwon needed to get to the point.

"I'm sorry about everything I said. I didn't even mean half of those things."

You scoffed. "Oh really? They sounded pretty heartfelt to me."

Jungwon sat up. "I was just trying to enforce the idea that I wasn't into you, on myself," he revealed, hoping that you would forgive him. "And being a dick was the only way you could do that? Jungwon, you weren't the only one who was attempting to suppress their feelings," you refuted.

"I know y/n. And it's my fault for not realizing sooner," he admitted, hanging his head. You sighed and shook your head. "This is so immature. I can't believe we're letting a stupid dare get in the middle of our friendship."

Jungwon chuckled darkly. "Maybe it's a sign that our friendship has run its course."

You turned to him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Jungwon smiled. "I gave it some thought yesterday. We're both attempting to be in denial of our feelings. Obviously, that isn't working out. If it wasn't for this dare, they would've remained buried deep down somewhere. But I guess you could say everything happens for a reason." He took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. "I never realized how much I loved this feeling until I had to go a whole two days without it."

You couldn't even hide your smile. "Where is this going Jungwon?"

"Maybe we should give this a chance. Give us a chance. Who knows? It could turn out the be the best thing that's ever happened to us," he said, meeting your eyes.

"And what if it doesn't? We would be throwing so many years of friendship away."

Jungwon shook his head. "How long are we supposed to contradict how we truly feel about each other? That would take a heavier toll on us."

You laughed, squeezing his hand. "It doesn't hurt to try I guess."

Jungwon beamed. "That's the spirit!" It felt nice to see you smiling at him again. He was grateful for that. It was funny how a large part of his mood depended on you. If you were happy, he was happy. If you were sad, he was sad. His entire world revolved around you, and Jungwon knew the best thing to do was strengthen that bond.

"So, will you be my girlfriend," he asked, smiling cheekily. You bit your lip, looking at him through your lashes. "Of course I will."

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this fic. Please let me know how you found it! Thank you so much!

[huenjin]

quarter past midnight.

pairing: chan x reader | breakup!au

word count: 6.107 words

genre: angst, smut

tw: heartbreak and break ups, reader is confused af, nsfw content — cunnilingus, overstimulation blowjobs, deep throating, face fucking, unprotected sex. this is just some angsty smut.

note: an old work i edited because i needed to write something angsty with chan and hurt myself, yes. <3

apartment 5005.

you stare at the door for as long as you know, your heart tingling, stretching apart to tear and shatter within you and you know this for sure — you are clearly mad. you are absolutely crazy, but love makes people do crazy things. beyond love, survival instincts to protect oneself in the long run makes people do disastrous things. you are confused, lost and heartbroken. isn't that why you are here? for some clarity in this mist that fogs your mind.

you insert the duplicate key you had into the keyhole and open the door to the abode you once called home, not because it was four walls that provided you shelter but because bang chan lived there.

it was the spring of 2016 when you had fallen in love with this man - the entirety of this man with a crooked smile so cute and a giggle that could open dimensions to him. he stood before a cherry blossom tree with two cones of ice cream, one for you and one for him and asked you out on a date —"let's watch cherry blossoms together, y/n," - and you agreed with not much reluctance. because you were enamoured of chan at the very first glance. a little boy with endless passion and boundless potential all ready to win your heart.

it was a gradual fall from there — falling in love with chan was so easy, so precious. every small action of chan's made you fall for him harder and the fall was steep. you toppled and tumbled happily but the impact of the crash was hard.

It was hard enough for you to have forgotten what breathing was. It was claustrophobic in a room that was wider than an average one. bang chan slowly seemed to have no time for you. so caught up with his own life and to sort that out, he took out his anger at you, the anger he bottled up in front of all the people — almost as if that was normal. funnily, you thought it was normal.

chan loved you. chan loves you. there was no way anything could have changed. the emotions were strong — the emotions are strong — however, it almost seemed like it was contaminated. like the strong colour of potassium permanganate that changes the whole liquid. so exactly, where in the world did you go wrong? how did your relationship reach this stage — this strained stage of your threads ready to snap and let go?

and staring at his open door, you want to know the answer.

you had walk in the rain to reach here. the weather was disastrous. it had rained heavily enough to make you feel more void than you already felt. the rain had hit your body with a certain impact that momentarily snapped you back to reality; yet, you are quick to drift away. with every step you had taken, the world feels like time had drifted to the past, aeons away. the rain merely grows even more intense and your heart sinks.

the rain has left you drenched. your hair strands stick to each other with droplets of water falling from the ends. your vision was blurry and all you had know was to get to chan quicker than ever. like your body being pulled to a force. you had to reach bang chan quick, to ache this void.

and when you do, your heart skips a beat. you take a step back as an act of cowardice and you do not want to knock on his door. you stand in front of his room, puddles of water collecting by your foot from the water that drips from your clothes and your hair. how could you knock when you were conflicted yourself? you couldn't leave chan but you know you had to if you wanted to try finding happiness again. probably with the man himself years later when you both grow up.

it was in the winter of 2016 that you grew to love bang chan for the person he was. that you knew were in love. the innocent, star-eyed boy waited in front of your house unexpectedly in the strong winds of winter. when you come back home late after your work at the grocery store, you find him there, still waiting for you. your heart had ached for the man who sat in front of your house, leaning against your door with his body shivering and his teeth clattering. he was half asleep, holding onto his thick overcoat tightly in an attempt to escape the cold.

"chan," you had called out to him. "chan, baby, wake up."

his delicate eyelids had fluttered open only to see you. the man quickly sprung to his feet, stumbling and losing his balance for a split second. chan fell into your arms and nuzzled himself into your warmth. he looked delicate and everything chan usually tended to not display - of vulnerability, a certain pastel and ethereal kind.

and when his pale arms had wrapped around your waist carefully and weakly and you held him up, you knew for sure that this always chirpy and optimistic man (albeit all the layers of insecurities he had) was going to steal your heart. and he did.

probably that is why it is so hard for you to knock on his door now. the fact that you could set the world on fire with the love you had for him and yet you knew that you had to untie the knot you had in your relationship to find happiness for a while. to find yourself all over again.

after much thought, you knock on his door. you feel cold, both physically and mentally. the water you are drenched in is soaking into your being and you know you are going to catch a cold for sure tomorrow. however, that is the least of your concerns at the moment.

the door is pulled open only for you to come face to face with the man you have fallen so in love with.

bang chan's face instantly morphs into one of concern as soon as he sees you drenched in the rain. he catches hold of your arm and pulls you into his small studio room of his. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his warmth. you nuzzle into his chest and he gently rubs your back. 

"are you crazy?" he asks so softly, that it almost does not feel like he is scolding you. "you walked all the way here in the rain. you are most definitely crazy."

you do not respond, however. chan holds you close and notices your silence. you tug at his shirt and chan keeps you close. it's this warmth you reckon you will miss. for the years you step back, you'll feel like a tourist. you pull apart and you look at him with tears in your eyes, "chan."

he looks at you worriedly. this isn't normal. this isn't normal. this is definitely not normal. you take a step back before continuing, "i'm leaving you."

there. you said it. it's out in the open and you hear it out loud too. the thought that screamed in your head is finally freed and normally, you should have felt lighter. so why is it that you have never felt your heart heavier than this?

you had promised yourself that you wouldn't shed tears yet here you are, unable to stop all those droplets falling from your eyes like a cascade of all those memories. 

"what?" chan looks broken.

"i can't do this anymore, chan," you say, looking down, shifting your balance from one foot to another. "it's heartbreaking to be in this relationship. every time i take one step forward now, you hardly have the time to even take two steps back."

"you know my work entitles me to this lifestyle," chan reasons. his voice is cracking and seeing chan this hurt merely makes you want to go to him and shelter and protect him for as long as you live. however, that very act makes you feel lost. not right now. what the two of you need at this minute is a break.

"i know," you look at him with guilt. "i know and yet i can't help but feel a little bit nervous of you never being there. i can't help but realise that your career is definitely way more important to you than i am. i understand that but i can't help but realise that maybe you don't love—"

"don't." chan's voice turns icy. he takes a step forward and you shudder at that moment. why did things turn out like this? why could the two of you not be like any other normal couple out there?

"stay, baby," chan pleads. his hands hold your arms fiercely and he leans over to look at you in your eyes. "i beg of you. stay. we'll make this work, somehow."

"how much more can the two of us try, chan?"

"enough to make this work. you promised me a lifetime of happiness. don't go back on your promise, baby. please."

chan is vulnerable, like a glass ready to crumble into fine dust and you realise how human this man — who seemed to be very nonchalant once — was all his life. in all the time you had dated him, chan had been rarely vulnerable and every time you saw him like that, it made you wonder how the world could ever be cruel to him to put him in such a state. the joke is on you this time for it is you who was hurting the one man you never wanted to let go of, the one man you never wanted the world to hurt.

"i'm hurting, chan. every day i go back home waiting for that one call of yours that never comes. i lay in bed wondering how it was perfect only months back when you pulled me close and rested your head on top of mine as we drifted to sleep. chan, we are not working," you gesture at the two of you, "this relationship is strained, toxic and potentially damaging to our mental wellbeing."

you are crying. your eyes burn and your cheeks are wet. chan looks at you in a shock. his eyes are red and he takes a step back from you, dropping his hands on either side of his body. he looks lifeless for a split moment and you are hurting too much to sort this issue out.

"do you want me to let you go?"

"yes," you say with much pain and sorrow from every word that can rip you away from chan.

"okay." chan takes two steps forward, edging closer to you, "okay. but do me one last thing before leaving me."

you look up at him, wondering if it could be anything that could revoke more memories and hurt you more than it already was. chan couldn't do that. he was in pain too. the two of you manage to be hurting at the same time.

"stay with me tonight. one last time before i say goodbye."

chan closes into you and cups your face delicately. he leans close enough for you to feel his breath fan on your face. his eyes are glassy and they shine in the light. his brown eyes with specks of chestnut hues look pretty. he is so devastatingly pretty. 

how is that chan looked so painstakingly pretty to you right before you were about to leave him?

"chan," you sigh his name out like an airy breath of fresh morning hopes. "no."

"why?"

"because then i would want to stay," you whisper into nothing. your heart strings drum and beats quicker. your eyes burn so badly and you want to leave instantly and cry out loudly.

chan presses his lips against yours instantly. his softness melts into yours as you kissed him and he to you like nothing else mattered. you sigh within and bring your hands up only to find home in his soft brown hair. he is everywhere, infiltrating your mind slowly and creeping into everything subconscious.

every contact of his reminds you of everything you had and everything you were ready to miss out on. chan leans closer, and suddenly he is kissing you harder, deeper with a fervent urgent need you had never known.

"chan," you pull away and lean back slightly. "chan, what are we doing?"

"let me make you stay," he whispers into the crook of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

"but I won't stay," you mumble, sadly. "i can't."

"then, allow me one night to remember everything," chan rasps out. his mouth has found its way to your neck. parting his mouth sinfully, he latches onto the skin at the crook of your neck and sucks. your eyelids close and your eyes roll back.

with chan, it is the small oblivious bliss. with chan, it is possession and yet not. with chan, it is being loved and cherished. with chan, you feel complete and yet crave for so much more.

like the air you blow into a balloon with a hole.

you pull chan closer by his hair and you hear him moan against your skin, the shudder of euphoria running down your spine and only enhancing the heat you felt at your core. yout body needs him as much as your mind craves his being.

chan pulls apart and looks at you, studying your face, every curve and every dip. he wants to remember everything. he begins, "i—" but never continues. rather, he holds your waist and lifts you up. your legs wrap around his waist automatically and almost in an instinct. you wrap your hands around his neck and lean forwards.

your cold thumb grazes the expanse of his cheekbone and your chest contracts. everything is too painful. chan's hand squeezes your waist and you lean forward for your foreheads to touch.

chan still smells like fresh morning with mist and beautiful dew. you blink the tears that threaten to spill as you cup his face. you peck his lips, once, twice and again till you can remember how his lips were with your eyes closed.

chan parts his lips for a sigh and you kiss him. you press your lips against his and you feel him loosen, his arms still on your waist, but this time, his fingers grazed ever so slightly. you let out a whimper when he pulls apart. 

the next thing chan does is take you to his bed. He carefully walks across his room, still carrying you and you're looking at him. you look at chan's eyes and you look at his nose. you study his face and your heart aches with every minute you stay.

he places you delicately on his bed and and you watch him stand and pull his shirt up to remove it. the moment seems familiar, the emotion however, is not. 

chan matches your body form and you instinctively arch upwards, moaning in the contact of his body heat against yours. you kiss him again and you feel him relax against you, lips softening as he permits you to take his lower lip between your teeth. you suck against his lower lip, moaning into his mouth as he pushes his tongue against yours.

chan's hands trace the sides of your torso, cradling your curves as he finds home in your neck. chan has always liked your neck. his licks, kisses and sudden bites only further enhances your point. your hands go to his hair as you hold him more firmly against you. the swelling of him beneath you makes you gasp and your thighs rub against each other.

chan pulls back for a minute, his fingers playing with the ends of your shirt. you whine greedily and move your hands to pull the shirt off your body. chan helps but he is so slow that you pause and look into his eyes. chan wants this moment to last forever. 

he removes the shirt off of you and looks at you, unsure when his fingers trail to your shorts. you place your hands over his and together, you unbutton your shorts. you pull yourself upwards and kissing chan, you say, "i'm staying the night, chan. i'll stay tonight."

the two of you discard the rest of your clothes, undergarments still on, only for him to pause and stare at your breasts, "how did i not notice you not wearing a bra when you were soaked in the rain?" and then he realizes how, pausing for a while. you quickly pull chan closer.

chan rushes to latch his lips back on your skin, sucking and kissing his way from the crook of your neck to the top of your left breast. you rock your hips against his, desperate for some friction. your clit has swollen, moisture already dampening the fabric of your panties.

chan's hands travel to your arse, squeezing the flesh beneath his fingers and grinding you down against the bulge growing in his boxers. a moan escapes your lips even before you could hold it and chan looks distinctly pleased.

"chan," you whine. "chan, please. i need you. touch. kiss. anything. please. i need you everywhere."

he smiles and removes the grasp on your arse, your skin feeling bruised over how tight he was holding you. his fingers trail upwards only to loop around the strap of your panties and he pulls it away from your body slightly only to release it. the strap hits against your skin and you wince. 

"you're so delectable," he mumbles and pulls your panties away. you rub your thighs together, feeling your wetness spread. his lips gently graze over your hip bones and land right over your clit, grazing it almost unnoticeably. the sudden contact leads you to grip on chan's arm and cover your mouth to smother your groans.

"do you like this, baby? do you want more of this?" he kisses the skin on your hips, so close to where you craved his attention. 

"chan—"

"you could have more of this if you stayed. y/n, just stay, please," he peppers more kisses around, moving his hands up and down your thighs.

"chan, no," you place your hands on his head, tangling your fingers into his hair. "i—"

"why not?"

and then chan's lips find your lower ones and you moan so loud that you didn't know you even had it in you. you pull his hair up of surprise and chan licks your lips up and down slowly and in the most gratifying manner.

"c-chan!"

he doesn't respond. he merely brings his hand down and places his thumb over your clit, pressing down on it as he licks you. he pulls apart to lightly kiss your inner thighs and the sudden loss of contact makes you whine.

"why can you not stay?"

"because it hurts to be with you when you're never around," you sigh, tears rolling down your cheek and chan looks at you from below. he sees you vulnerable and broken and he blames himself. he is as responsible for leading himself to this situation as much as you are.

he holds tight on to your thighs, pulling you closer to him as he plants soft kisses on your dripping core. he sucks and nibbles on the lips before parting them with his tongue, swiping one big stroke and resting on your sensitive nub.

"chan, more, please," you whimper. his sinful tongue feels like heaven on your hot core, and you leave your hands to move around to look for places to grip onto; moving from your hair, to the edge of the bedsheet, until they find their way to his hair again where you make your final grip. you always did like gripping on his hair during sex. it edges him and steers him to do as you pleased. you instantly entangle your fingers through the strands of his locks as you start to move your hips in the same motion as the movements which his lips and tongue are now making.

chan keeps his action of devouring you with hunger, moving his tongue skilfully in and out of you, humming as he went. the vibration only makes you edge a bit more. you close your eyes and focus on feeling him and his motion. and right at the moment, chan feels your grip on him getting tighter. when your whimpers sound more desperate, he moves two fingers inside your walls, curling deep while sucking at your clit. he keeps biting lightly at the swollen nub, making you cry out his name. the moment when he feels you tightening around his fingers, he latches his lips around your clit tightly and sucks, all while thrusting his fingers deep onto your sweet spot, relentlessly, until you see sea of stars from under your eyelids.

"ch—" your breathing shortens and you quake, "oh my god! baby!"

however, bang chan never stops; even when your whole body starts shaking and quivering on his bed. he continues the work of his fingers and his hot, sinful mouth all moving in the same pace, letting you ride out your high until it slowly subsides and you are left, gasping for air, on the brink of overstimulation.

chan finally lifts his head as you open your eyes and you notice. his lips glistening and his eyes sparkling. he runs his tongue across his lips, taking in the last of the remnants of your high. you gulp, admitting that the scene before you is hot. chan doing anything will always be hot.

"fuck my life, i'm so in love with you," chan says and your eyes widen.

"no," you mumble. "you should not be."

"isn't that my decision, baby?" chan says. you lean forward and holding onto his arm sockets, you move him backwards allowing yourself to climb on top of him. you position yourself over his leg and frantically pull his boxers down and away.

"you shouldn't though," you take his cock into your hands. chan stifles a moan. his fingers softly hold your head and stroking your hair as you tease him with your tongue on his shaft. your eyes keep looking up at his face while you drag a slow lick along the base of his member, before swirling your tongue around the tip, earning his subtle grunt and unsteady breaths while he looks at you with darkening eyes.

you lock your gaze on chan and dragging one excruciatingly slow lick, you take his head into your mouth before pulling apart almost instantly. you drag your tongue over your lips and tease, "tell me what you want, baby boy."

chan smiles widely at you and your sudden voice of confidence. he strokes the back of your neck and says, "i want you to stay."

"you're such a buzz—" 

"but i know you won't. so i'd rather, just for tonight, have you as a whole. i want your pretty little mouth on my cock, wrapped around it and sucking it. i want you to look like a mess, baby, for me."

you smile at him softly and almost apologetically. shaking your head of any sad thoughts, you place another kiss on the swollen tip of his cock, before giving a long and slow lick at the base of his shaft, coating his member with your saliva, and finally take him completely in your mouth. you hum gladly as your lips move and sink down slowly, adjusting yourself to the size of him, only stopping once you feel his tip touching the back of your throat. the depth and your constant move gifts you with a couple of deep groans coming out of his own lips. you look up to see him, supporting himself up and leaning his head back, enjoying the way your mouth is sucking him tightly. once you are adjusted to the size of his girth, the muscles around your jaw relax a little, permitting you to move your head and sink down low. hollowing your cheeks, you keep sucking him on your way up with flattened tongue, stopping by the time you reach his tip only to sink yourself back down.

"fuck, fuck. fuck, y/n, baby. your mouth feels euphoric," chan groans, his head dropping and his eyes screwing shut. you let out another hum in acknowledgement and respond with another bob of your head up and down his length.

the sound of his ragged breath and his whimpers makes you aware of how fucked out he was. you keep your pace while raking his thigh with your nails from one hand, while you use the other to cup and graze the skin of his scrotum and his uncovered base. until suddenly, he looks down on you while gently stroking the sides of your face with his thumbs before he moves his hips upwards, thrusting deeper into your mouth.

you gag in surprise with his length reaching all the way down to your throat. you whimper against his cock. you keep your tongue still flat and presses against the base of his cock to give him more sensation as he keeps fucking your mouth at a distinct pace. you hold on tightly onto his thighs, scoring them, ignoring the soreness on your jaw and throat to let him chase his high, until he finally explodes inside you. the sudden appearance of his thick, creamy release filling your mouth has you gagging. when chan slows down, you are finally able to carefully swallow every single drop, a few dripping down by the corners of your mouth.

"ah, fuck," he suspires, gradually slowing until he stops and pulls himself out of your mouth. "i'm so sorry— i'm sorry, baby," he tells you between his ragged breaths, sitting up and rubbing his thumb on your face and neck lovingly, over and over again. "did i hurt you? tell me i did not. fuck, i got carried away."

you take hold of his hand and kiss his knuckles, letting out a small chuckle. chan pulls you closer and hugs you and you sit in his warmth. you mumble against his chest, "i hate to be evil, but i hope that no one can give you a blow job or a mind-blowing sex like i could."

chan sighs and holds you tighter, "don't you already have me in your captive?"

the back of chan's hand moves around the edges of your face before he pulls you in and kisses you slowly. he touches the tip of his tongue to yours, teasing at first, before entwining your tongues together. his hand moves down your back and pulls you closer, your core pressed against his cock and you moan against his mouth.

"i'm going to make you come all night. when you tire out, i'll let you rest and have you again," chan whispers against your ear as he pulls apart from your lips.

this was why leaving chan was hard. he was addictive. the taste of his lips, the deep moan he exhaled when he deepened the kiss. you let him intertwine his tongue with yours, let him taste your mouth while you press your palms on his chest to feel his warmth. chan's hand runs freely over the curve of your arse, earning a gasp to escape from your lips, stopping the kiss unexpectedly.

he pushes you back once he had calmed down from his last high and climbs on top of you with a smirk, "i could eat you out again but good lord, you look so fucking delectable that i need to have my cock inside of you — right now."

you gulp and you feel your throat parching. he continues kissing you while settling himself between your shaky legs, groaning against your mouth the moment he could feel your wet folds brushing the tip of his shaft. he leans forward to catch your erect nipple between his lips. he did the same thing to the other breast.

he firmly holds your name and kisses every single part of your body, murmuring softly against your skin, "need to remember. need to remember. fuck, i need to remember you."

you cup his face softly and look at him, breathing slowly in order to force him to do the same, "chan, I love you."

"but you can't stay."

"i can't."

"i need to be inside of you. i need to remember how you felt. i need to engrave it till i know how much you've captivated me and left me miserable," he whispers softly between your kisses, and you buck your hips upward to meet his as a response. you are still mildly sensitive but so needy to feel him inside you.

exhaling, chan pushes his throbbing length between your swollen lips, ever so slowly delving into your hot sex with a low grunt and moan. you instantly hook one leg around his hip, placing both of your palms on his back as you guided him inside you. your soft, hot walls enveloped his length, pulling him in deeper as he thrust his hips against yours and when your being finally envelopes him, he grunts in content.

"i missed this so much," he whispers to you, pressing your foreheads together as you pant softly against his lips, trying to regulate your breathing. "i'll miss you, baby."

chan waits until you adjust yourself to his length. no matter how many times you have had sex with him, his girth still surprises you. you notify him by pecking on his lips with your eyes flickering up to him and staring at him with lust and want, and chan knows you are ready.

he moves slowly in and out of you in a calculated rhythm, almost like he was playing his own music, never looking away. he pulls his hips back and then thrusts forward, filling your hole as much as possible once your body recognises his being.

"fuck," chan grunts. beads of perspiration have formed on his neck and slowly they drop down and you watch. chan looks precious and for a minute there, you want to stay. you want to stay with chan forever, marry him and have his kids. you want to be there in his highs and lows. but you know you shouldn't. he deserved better and so did you.

"oh god, y/n," he moans, gripping your thigh harder. he keeps on grinding his shaft into your wetness with more fervour and all you could do is —

"chan!" 

scream his name out for everyone around to know.

he sighs, moving his hips into yours a bit faster as you begin to meet his thrusts with the movements of your hips. he lets go of you and drops both of his hands down to the bed on either side of you, holding himself up and increasing his range of motion; pulling nearly all the way out, then rocking forward to push all the way back into his base. 

your fingers keep holding tight on his shoulder and his upper arm, lightly scratching your nail on his skin. he leans down to press his mouth to you, kissing you hungrily. he moves into you harder and even faster, scrunching the sheets up under his palms while driving his shaft deep into you. 

your soft moans grow higher in pitch and you bite into your lower lip harshly. you become louder as you feel your high approaching. "chan, baby, fuck," you rasp out and chan kisses your clavicle and licks a stripe, leaving a bruise by its end.

"let go, baby," he moves his hands back on your hip with a tight grip, helping you to move in the same rhythm as his. you grip harder on his arms for leverage. you feel him grinding your clenching walls with his shaft inside of you until you can not take any more, and your entire body shakes from the second climax of the night.

chan starts to slow down yet keeps thrusting forward, so gently and disoriented. he smiles before kissing you deeply once again. he groans at the feeling of your walls clenching hard around his shaft, your orgasm lingering even after your body had stopped shaking so much. leaning down, chan presses his body hard on you while he kisses you, and you can feel his member throbbing within your depths and his heart pounding fast in his chest. his brown eyes look softer tonight and his eyes are glassy. you cup his face and kiss him repeatedly. you hold him steady while he pushes into you languidly. you can't seem to part with him — is this what love does?

you move your hips. you can feel your desire still dripping hot in your core and more than ready to continue on. "keep going. i want to feel you come inside me, chan."

his hips, hitting against your clit repeatedly, makes you woozy with tensed and excess euphoria. it is too much but you couldn't stop. you guide him into you, over and over again even when your walls seemed to scream out of exhaustion. you needed to feel chan in you, fill you up.

you wiggle your hips and raise them to meet his warmth. smiling, you bend your knees up to help him reach his high quicker.

you hold onto the moment he starts to move his hips one more time, drilling inside of you with both of his hands planted on the bed once again for grip. this time, you keep your eyes opened. you gasp and enjoy how beautiful his toned body looks, moving above you fluidly. silently admiring how his skin is glowing from the illuminating moonlight which enters the room through the opened windows, how they had fallen perfectly on his sweaty chest against the background music of the rain hitting the window panes.

you let your eyes capture its beauty, memorising him and everything else the best you still could in your mind. just so you could keep the image of him making love to you for as long as you possibly could in your memories. after all, this is it. this was the end of the lane, the last page in the chapter you shared with him.

you graze chan's chin and watch how he moves into you. you close your eyes for a second - just for a second - to hear distinctly of the squelching sound of his cock entering you and his hips slapping against yours.

he tilts his head and gives you a few sloppy kisses by the edges of your neck and then your mouth. your eyes screw shut with the overload of euphoria. you are oversensitive and tears spill out from your eyes. chan thrusts a few more times into you before reaching his own orgasm that washes over him like a wave. you feel his cock pulsate and a shiver of pleasure runs down your spine. his movements become slower. he grunts and moans in each motion of his and you lean forward to kiss him. after a few deep and long kisses, he steadies himself and pulls out of you carefully. he kisses you a few more times — your lips, neck, clavicles, breasts and everywhere.

chan falls besides you and sighs. he cups your face and looks at you. your eyes are closing in exhaustion and you whimper, "i'll miss this."

chan remembers that this is the last time and pulls you closer, a lone treacherous tear falling on your face. he watches you carefully and you softly smile, "you should sleep. you have practice tomorrow."

"no, it's my last day with you. i'd rather watch you than waste time sleeping," he sounds sad and you move closer into his warmth.

"i really do love you, chan."

"i know and so do i. our circumstances just weren't right. don't beat yourself to it," he mumbles, pushing a strand of your hair from your face.

"nor should you. promise me that you won't overwork yourself?"

"i—"

"chan!"

"just go to sleep, baby. you look tired. i love you," chan coos and you yawn almost immediately. he laughs and rubs your back soothingly and you fall asleep. chan does too, soon after.

and when his eyelids part the next morning, the bed feels cold and his heart feels the void. you are gone and chan is lonely as he has been always.

[maddieinwonder]

A Lesson In Romance #3: The Cast

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.5k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, the team figures it out.

A/N: I'm guilty of writing too much Morgan and Garcia but I can't help it — they're so much fun! I think them plus Emily would have the most dramatic reactions to Spencer in a (potential) relationship, though I'm excited to write about the rest too.

(Also, the reference at the end is from Lord of the Rings, because I love Lord of the Rings.)

Masterlist | All chapters here!

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If you've learned anything from rom-coms, it's that every romantic lead needed a supporting cast. Whether they were siblings, parents, or childhood best friends, the main character needed somebody who would drop everything to talk to them — preferably showing up at their doorstep with face masks, nail polish, and a bottle of wine.

In your life right now, you suppose those people would be your teammates from the BAU.

Of course, this hypothetical scenario didn't require your potential love interest to be from work, but let's say for the purposes of the discussion that they were. Then you hoped, at least, that they would have an IQ of 150 or higher and a propensity for wearing mismatched socks.

But you were getting ahead of yourself. You were simply imagining the hypothetical scenario where your life was a rom-com. Hypothetically, you would need a love interest, and hypothetically, you kind of already had one.

“Hey,” Spencer waved you over from across the coffee shop. It wasn’t difficult to spot him when the place was nearly vacant. Everything was slow and quiet this early in the morning, and you weren’t going to make an exception.

“Morning,” you greeted softly as you sat down, relaxing into the smell of freshly roasted coffee and baked goods.

“I already ordered yours.” He smiled, tucking his book away in his messenger bag. “They had bagels this morning. Yours is cream cheese, but mine is strawberry jelly.” He looked overly pleased with himself, and you couldn’t help but crack a sleepy smile.

You eyed the spread in front of you, before lifting your gaze to meet his. “So your theory that you can predict my taste in desserts seems to be getting better.”

"Yes!" He shout-whispered, silently raising his fists in victory. “I knew I was right.”

You giggled at his overexcitement over something as small as getting your dessert order right. Although, he did once spend ten whole minutes explaining to you why dessert for breakfast was an underrated concept, so you couldn't say this was beyond your expectations for Dr. Spencer Reid.

You propped your head up with your arms, a smile plastered over your face. “Have I ever told you that you’re a weirdo, doctor?” You teased.

“Why, yes. Yes you have.” He replied with a smile, gesturing at you to try the bagel. His own was almost-gone, so they must be good.

And it was. Your eyes fluttered shut as the heavenly combination of carbs and cream woke up your taste buds. It was made even better with a sip of the perfect cup of coffee.

"Perfect," you sighed happily, digging into your breakfast further as Spencer quietly caught you up on the latest news in classical art.

Two weeks ago, you wouldn't have guessed that you would talk to Spencer alone, much less spend your mornings together with him. But as it turned out, a lot could change in a few days.

After the initial awkwardness between you had passed, you found that the two of you shared a lot more interests than interdimensional doctors and space opera. You both loved coffee, obviously, but you also had a mutual love for desserts, classical literature, and history.

It didn't take long for these interests to seep into the weekend, resulting in a suspiciously date-like afternoon with Spencer at his favourite museum. But you tried not to think too much into it. After all, the day had ended with a "see you at work", and not a "would you like to come in?"

Still, your dance between friendship and something more continued to grow wilder as days passed, until it reached a point where it inhabited your every waking thought. The only time it didn't, ironically, was when you were spending time with the person in question and every stray thought seemed to fall away.

Your mornings with him brought a necessary reprieve to the dark realities of this job, and some days you almost had to drag yourself out of your seat, knowing that you were straying from the calm of his company straight into the lion's mouth. But duty always called.

Your sudden hesitance to be apart from the resident genius hadn't gone unnoticed by the rest of your team either; ever since the two of you walked into office one morning with matching coffee cups and smiles on your faces.

At first you enjoyed Spencer's company too much to care, but you knew that it was going to bite you back one day. And today seemed to be that day.

You could tell, because the lift doors to the BAU opened to one very determined Penelope Garcia with her arms folded across her chest. "Spit it out, you two," she said sharply without any greeting.

You and Spencer looked at each other, confused, before looking back at Penelope. "Spit out what, Pen?" You asked, a frown starting to form between your eyes.

"You know what I mean!" She squeaked, dropping her stern facade for a brief moment. "Are the two of you dating? The entire team has been dying to know, and I mean, d-y-i-n-g because there's a huge pot of money with my name on it if you are."

"Ah— No— I mean, you think—" Spencer stammered, his face instantly turning beet red in embarrassment, while your face began to grow red for another reason entirely.

"I think what he means is 'no', and what I mean to say is— what do you mean the entire team?" You half-yelled the question, while Penelope raised her hands defensively.

"What I mean, sugar, is that the two of you went from avoiding each other completely, to coming into work together everyday — and I know you spent last weekend together too, because you couldn't stop talking about it the next day at work and everybody noticed." She stated, pushing up her glasses.

"Not to mention, Dr. Reid here started wearing brighter colours subconsciously." She continued with her observations. "I know this, because in the almost four years I've worked with this man, I've never seen him wear anything brighter than violet. Or white. Or beige. But those don't count." She shook her head, getting back to her point.

"You get what I mean— and you," she pointed her pen in your direction, causing you to jump slightly. "You finally stopped doubting yourself as a part of this team. I knew this when you started talking more often during briefings — which I have nothing against, B-T-W, I totally support any effort in self-care and personal growth — but you also stopped shifting in your seat which you used to do when you felt nervous."

Penelope took a deep breath, preparing for the climax. "So all I can assume, is either you've been attending one of the 52 self-help classes that happen every weekend in Virginia, or somebody has been helping you find some serious zen."

"And my money's on the latter because every time you think nobody's watching, you're making eyes at Reid. But you're wrong. Garcia is always watching." She concluded triumphantly, raising one finger to point at herself.

"You might make a good profiler yet, doll." Derek remarked, walking up to the group with a smirk firmly affixed to his face.

"Expert at all things romance, and Cupid of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, Penelope Garcia at your service." She smiled, graciously curtseying to your other teammate.

"I know you're smart like that, babygirl," he grinned, draping his arm around her shoulder, "but you also don't know pretty boy as well as I do, because they aren't in a relationship."

He turned to you questioningly. "Are you?"

"No." You replied, glancing hesitantly at Spencer for his response, but his face simply looked blank with shock.

"See? Now it's time to collect my payout." Derek grinned at the tech analyst, making the motion of raining dollar bills.

Penelope tailed behind him grumpily as he walked into the BAU office, surely to share the "good news" with everybody else.

You hesitated to follow, imagining what teasing and looks would follow regardless of the outcome. Then you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, Spencer gestured back at the empty lift with his head and you smiled, realising what he meant.

"That is the best hypothesis you've had all morning," you said. The two of you shared a laugh as you got back into the lift.

Even behind glass doors, you could hear a muffled "What?!" that you guessed came from Emily. "There's absolutely no way those two aren't together already. Have you seen them?"

There was a brief pause, then a loud groan.

"I know, that's what I told him!" Penelope's high-pitched voice was clear. "You know I'm going to be right about them eventually—"

The lift doors finally closed, blocking out the rest of their conversation. You looked up at Spencer, your gaze meeting his clear hazel eyes. He looked at his watch briefly before saying the next words.

"We've got time. Are you up for second breakfast?" He asked, referencing a movie from a conversation two weeks ago. He remembered. Of course he remembered.

You cleared your throat before replying the next line. "What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper?"

He laughed, and you felt a familiar peace return to you.

Whatever your teammates were yelling about, the two of you could deal with it later. Together.

-----------

Tag list:

@blue-space-porgs @nobutalsoyes @lady-loves-a-lot

[moonslove7]

Hi :3 Can I request a post Hogwarts (both married) reader cooking with no magic and running a bubble bath for professor Remus after he goes back home from his first day of teaching classes at Hogwarts.

Istg Professor Remus is my ultimate soft spot so yeah, just know I am blushing the entire time while writing this. Also Imma pretend you have like a family inherited cottage thing somewhere near hogwarts for this and remus doesnt like staying at hogwarts bc he would miss you also idk how to cook so you can just make up the food.

“(Y/n)! I’m home!” 

The sound of your husband Remus announcing he had finally come home, you were in the kitchen, cooking dinner, the smell louring him into the kitchen while he held his briefcase and had his robes still on, he watched you for a second as you kept looking at the oven making sure nothing was being burnt and then you turned around and smiled at the handsome professor.

“Hey Rem, how was the first day?” You asked pressing your lips to his gently, he put his briefcase down on one of the chairs at the table, took your hands in his, your fingers interlocking as his smile matched yours. “It was pretty good surprisingly, it’s good to be home though.” He then pecked your lips with a kiss this time, making your smile grow, you let go of one of his hands to check up on the food.

“Here, let me help.” Remus mumbled and started to put all the ingredients you had chopped up into a pan, turning the stove on. “ Why don’t you go rest love? You’ve been at work all day.” You asked him, he shook his head ‘no’. “ I’m fine pup, I can help you finish making dinner and then we’ll both relax, you’ve been working too.” You never felt like what you did was an actual job, you helped people with divination, or sometimes they payed you to find out if someone they loved was cheating or liked them back, Remus knew how emotionally exhausting it could be, to him it was a real job.

“ You look so good in those robes by the way, I didn’t know you becoming a professor would somehow make you even more attractive but here we are,” You joked and giggled while Remus, said “Hey! Are you calling me not attractive ?” He started to walk slowly towards you to tickle your sides making your knees buckle, “No Sir, course not Sir,” You joked making Remus crack a smile and a giggle, he continued tickling you, “NO REMUS PLEASE- THE FOOD-” You tried to yell between the giggles until you were laying on the floor, Remus on his knees as he continued his torture. 

“You’re a Menace (Mr/Mrs Lupin).” He said quietly but loud enough for you to hear, he stopped tickling you to kiss you, leaning down he brought his right hand to your face to hold you while he pushed his lips onto yours making you stop giggling and instead you sighed into the kiss, bringing your hands up to play with his messy dark brown hair, before he could deepen the kiss though you mumbled his name on his lips, getting him to lean back a little so you could speak without his lips smothering yours. “Food first, that can wait my love.” You said while standing up, leaving him pouting on his knees, he stood up following you, the pout now joined with his puppy eyes. 

“Jesus Christ, people will think I married a man-child.” You sighed as you noticed his face, he smiled his pout dropping as you leaned in close to him, kissing him once more, “You love me though,” He said teasingly, going back to the stove to check on the food, you replied, “that is true, I love you very much Moony.” At your words Remus smiled while turning the stove off and took the plates out from the cupboard with you gathering the food up and placing it on the table, then putting it on the plates, Remus went to the fridge, opening it to retrieve wine he remembered you brought, he grabbed two glasses before sitting down next to you, he poured you a glass and then himself. 

“Congrats on your first day.” You held the glass up to him, to do a toast as this job seemed the best one he had managed to find in a long time that complimented him in everyway, he had history there, unsealed wounds, and he was smart enough to be a professor any day. He brought his glass to yours making a clanging noise, you both took a sip of the wine and then started to dig into the food, unconsciously yours and Remus’s hands had found each other while you ate one handily, you both held hands the entire time.

When you had both finished Remus insisted on taking the plates to the sink to wash, you both were still drinking your wine, you got up with Remus anyway, “Hey, don’t look at me like that, I’ll put away the plates and cutlery while you wash them okay?” You asked while he looked a second away from pouting again. “Okay, deal.” After ten or so minutes everything was cleaned and put away, so you took Remus’s hands in yours and pulled him towards the bathroom, the Sun had began to set as you closed the bathroom door, and Remus closed the toilet seat to sit down on it. 

“Thank Godric, I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” He says when you put the plug into the bath and began putting in relaxing bath salts and of course bubbles, turning the taps on you smiled at him as he just watched the water fill the bath. “I know Rem, that’s why I got you an extra treat.” You walked over to the cabinet that you kept the clean towels in to use and move the first towel to reveal two chocolate frogs you had managed to get during the day, you showed him the chocolate making him smile lovingly at you, “You didn’t have to do this pup, you really are too good for me.” He says while you put the frogs on the bath table at the very bottom of the bath, when the bubbles were made and the bath was full you turned the taps off and started to strip making Remus stand up and do the same. You also played a song on your phone, the one you had your first dance as a married couple to, Let’s Go Home Together by Ella Henderson and Tom Grennan.

Both standing there nude you went into the bath first, laying down and then opening your arms to invite him to join you, he stepped into the bath, grabbed the chocolate frogs and leaned back, you sat up, letting him rest his arms on your knees as he opened your chocolate and fed you it, you doing the same for him, you both closed your eyes enjoying being so close to each other while the song played quietly in the background.

‘you seem like someone I could pick a fight with, dance all night with,

Maybe you’ll like me the way I am,’

All of a sudden you felt Remus kiss your nose, then your cheeks, opening your eyes you saw the giant of a man looking at you with so much love in his eyes it made you melt, you violently kissed his face all over making him laugh. 

‘Feels like I know you so well,

You could be everything 

That I’ve been missing,

I’m coming out of my shell,

And I never do that,

How did you do that?

It feels like I’ve known you my whole life.’

You both looked at each other with pure love and affection, this song reminded you both of yourselves, how everyday you help him learn to very slowly love himself and believe maybe he is allowed to be loved the way you love him, and he helps you grow confident in yourself and realise you also deserved to be loved too, and you both always knew what the other needed without words, finding neither of you could properly relax anymore unless you were cuddling.

For Remus he fell in love with you instantly, he met you through the order, the first time you two met he would stumble over his words as he learned you had managed to predict some of the death eaters attacks saving a few people including fellow members of the order, you radiated such warmth and comfort as you talked to him about your life that night and he did the same leaving his little furry problem alone for now, he even saw Sirius grinning at the two of you, knowing you two instantly clicked and connected. He didn’t need a tarot deck to figure out you both were drawn and comforting to each other.

‘I’m never that good in a crowded room, 

But everything stopped when I first saw you,

You seem like someone I could, 

Be myself with, 

No defences,

Maybe you like me the way I am,’

After Remus had told you about his condition, the full moon after that brought him to tears, because he didn’t expect you to stick around but you had gone above and beyond, helping him to his room, running a bath for him, massaging his shoulders and bandaging any wounds, you even made him some food and a quick drink, you would say it was nothing but to Remus it meant everything, to him it was a sign that you liked him just as he was, and he loved that a lot. It was probably at that moment he fell deeper than he thought possible in love with you.

I hope you enjoyed! Sorry it’s kinda short 

[apixrl]

SINCERELY, YOURS.

hanta sero x fem!reader

WARNING(S): none

word count: 3.0k

song: sincerely, yours // nohidea

note(s): i just think that he'd be the perfect hubby tbh (EDIT: I'M SO DUMB I POSTED W/O TAGS PFAHAHHA)

Hanta finally managed to force open the door to the log cabin that had long been awaiting your arrival, the wooden structure welcoming the approaching warmth and laughter of the newly wedded couple. The ravenette smirked joyously and let out a triumphant 'hoorah', your laughter only adding to the display of ego on his face.

"And you said I'd drop you," Hanta mocked your earlier words, looking down at you with that very same smirk. If not for your arms wrapped around his neck and entire weight held in his arms, you most likely would have pushed his face away by the cheek. To avoid that shit-eating, joking smirk that rarely left his dumb and lovable face. The face you fell for so undoubtedly swift and heavy.

"I didn't say you would I said you may drop me," Was your response. "It's not every day we walk through so much snow!"

"Hush now, that was nothing to me," Hanta lifted the arm that supported your back, planting his lips on your forehead in a sweet welcoming kiss. Your lips curled in approval, accepting the gesture as Hanta used his foot to close the door behind you both, driving away the cold breeze from outside as warmth replaced it. "Now would you look at this place!"

Heeding Hanta's words, your eyes averted from his addicting gaze to the bonnie log cabin interior set out before you two. From left to right the cabin maintained an earthy theme, consistent in wooden textures excluding that of the supple beige sofas in the centre of the room. They were accompanied with ripening red cushions, as well as a few other pieces of furniture containing the same colour to maintain an advertising aesthetic no doubt. Lengthy beams stretched from one end of the walls to the other, set out in rows. The deepest wall (opposite to the entrance) was made mostly out of glass and onlooking a gorgeous snowy forest scene, small golden lights lit up outside to only add to the aura already presented. Built-up by red bricks and extending up toward the ceiling was a great open fireplace, already sparked alight and sensing a contrasting warmth to the bitter cold outdoors. In the corner of the room were a set of stairs most likely directing themselves off to the bedroom, though you and Hanta were so taken by the bottom floor's interior neither of you even processed there were more rooms to see.

"Wow... this place is gorgeous!" You said through a whisper, face lighting up at the sight. Never had you thought a place could be so beautifully arranged and so beautiful in general, and the two of you had this place to yourselves for an entire two weeks... it made you feel like the luckiest person alive! That you were really, as you'd just tied the knot the love of your life and were starting an entirely new journey with him. From the very moment you'd both uttered 'I do' in front of all your friends and family - the paths you lead became one that you would waltz down together.

"So you like it then?" Hanta asked, ebony eyes trailing away from the open fire and down to your own E/C irises. His smirk slowly transitioned to an endearing grin upon seeing your face of wonder, heart skipping a beat as your gaze met his and your expression mirrored.

"Of course! It's just how I imagined it - even more stunning than the pictures online," Your hand grazed Hanta's gloved one, though the barricade of wool and cotton did nothing to prevent the love and desire sent through the tips of your fingers. The ravenette admired your beauty in that lingering stare shared between you, exhaling a content sigh. You never failed to astound him with your beauty, the way your eyes glowed whenever you looked at him. How your hair fell perfectly into place no matter the circumstance (even on your worst of hair days you somehow managed to make it work). Not to mention your smile and laugh - those specific factors alone making Hanta fall for you over and over and exceeding limits of love and admiration he didn't even think he possessed.

Just before Hanta was to fall into daydream you shook him out his thoughts, the shifting of weight in his arms struck him to shake out of it, realising that you were attempting to shuffle out his arms in order to stand. So he let you down, grip loosening and reluctantly allowing you to step away.

"I'm glad," He quickly uttered, his hand lifting to his head to remove the woolly hat resting there. Then he proceeded to unbutton his winter coat as did you, the pair of you making light work of it due to the excitement of exploring your temporary home.

"So our suitcases are already here?" You asked Hanta, straightening out your knitted turtleneck jumper which was a soft pink shade. Usually something you wouldn't wear, but it was well-suited for the weather and didn't irritate your skin. So you took advantage of the purchase. From your left Hanta hummed softly, turning towards you once he was done hanging his coat on the rack. He too had a turtleneck on, but his donned a collect of abstract patterns and stuck to more neutral colours than yours.

"Yep, they should be upstairs," Hanta replied, running a hand through his hair as he looked over at you. He shifted over to your side, hugging you from behind with a mischievous chuckle. "But we can unpack tomorrow,"

"I like the idea of that, I just wanna snuggle," You responded with a giggle, leaning back into your husband's hold. After a few seconds Hanta stepped forwards, forcing your feet to follow suit. The ravenette guided you both to the nearest sofa, where he messily fell back against the ruby red cushions and you alongside him.

"That's because you procrastinate more than you've ever been willing to admit," Hanta turned you over so you sat atop his middle, hands settled on your hips like they were structured to hold them. There was a smirk on his face as you rolled your eyes at his last comment.

"I procrastinate because you distract me," You corrected, poking his chest with a prominent finger.

"Ah well, what can I say? I'm just that pretty aren't I?" He replied, laughing joyously. You couldn't help but echo with your own form of a chuckle, shaking your head as the smile on your face sent Hanta all kinds of elated emotions through his veins.

"You're not wrong there, Tiger," You grinned ear to ear, staring lovingly in his direction. Words weren't enough to express how much you loved him, your mind struggling to form sentences most of the time with just how much he took your breath away. In truth, you would have allowed yourself to remain gazing into Hanta's eyes the entire night. But you were due to catch sight of an envelope on the coffee table next to you both, drawing your attention away from him as fast as it came. The item too out of the ordinary to ignore. Peculiarly you leaned over to grab it, tilting your head at the item.

"What's that?"

"I don't know," Was your answer. Your fingers proceeded to slit open the top, discovering a smaller, folded piece of paper inside. Curiously you opened it up, voice filling the room as you discovered golden ink was printed on one side and intended to read it out.

" Dear Mr and Mrs Sero,

We are beyond pleased that you chose to stay with us for your honeymoon. Have a wonderful and splendid time at the start of your journey together and we wish you nothing but happiness and joy during your stay.

Kindest regards,

[resort/name] "

"Mr and Mrs Sero," Hanta repeated with a thoughtful stare to the wooden beams above. "I'm still not used to hearing that and we've already been married a week," A smile formed on his lips, releasing a chuckle from the depths of his chest. Almost like he couldn't believe the words he had just uttered. Tilting your head, you pondered on what he meant.

"How do you mean?" You didn't receive an answer straight away, the man you called your husband gently sighed, almost with the case of the lovesick. Somewhere during the exhale Hanta's eyes fell from the beamed ceiling and onto you, gratitude threaded in his expression as he stared at you.

"I just don't know how I got so lucky to marry someone like you," His hand extended to cup your cheek, cradling the slightly chilled part of your face (thanks to the cold air and wind from outside) as his thumb stroked the surface of your skin. Your eyes widened, all too used to the gesture but rarely ever prepared for it whenever Hanta committed to it. You smiled, nuzzling into his warm hold as your eyes closed.

"Me too," You hummed, sighing out yourself as your heart fluttered higher and higher with each passing second. A short silence ensued, ending as you abruptly let out a little laugh. It caught Hanta's attention, his head cosying into the cushion behind him as his brows raised.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about the night you proposed. That's all," Another laugh escaped, humour striking you as you recalled how it had played out. From the manner your lover rolled his eyes, he clearly still hadn't emotionally recovered from it.

"That stupid fire pit," He groaned, eyes closing in annoyance. "I can't believe I let it ruin the moment,"

"I don't think that was the fire's intention, Hants,"

Despite being blatantly confident and bold, when it came to more... intimacy-related things, Hanta Sero's expertise dwindled dangerously. It had taken him months of knowing you to actually ask you out on a date, and when you finally got together? Well, it took him four years before he began to think about popping the question - three months more to actually pop it. Whilst you did say yes once he got down on one knee on the balcony of your holiday home for your fourth anniversary together, the events that proceeded after were what truly traumatised the poor ravenette.

Your holiday was spent somewhere in the Caribbean at a beachside residence that locals rented out for tourists. You and Hanta had always been big on travelling, hence your honeymoon location being such an unconventional place. Or as far as you knew, you didn't have an exact number on how many honeymoons were spent in remote mountain ranges surrounded by blustering winds and snow. It was a nice change of pace to the intense heats nearer the Equator.

During that vacation in particular though, that was the year Hanta finally decided to propose. After a long day on the beach, swimming in the ocean and feeling the sand between your toes as evening approached, you watched the sunset on the balcony of the second floor, neighbouring your bedroom. To set the mood the firepit in the centre had been lit, creating a stunning orange glow in Hanta's eyes as he held you close to his chest.

You noticed he was quite fidgety in his seat, wondering what was wrong with your lover as he gripped his knee tight. Like he was uncomfortable or nervous. Like he needed to get something off of his chest. It was only when you pointed out your concern and his odd behaviour that Hanta managed to shift his stance. Moving from his stiff position to wobbling on one knee, then came the heartfelt speech that gave you a sense of where he was going. A subtle reach into his pocket and before you knew it, you were shouting yes into the night sky and your eyes foggy with tears of complete and utter joy.

Hanta placed the ring on your finger, the realisation hitting him at that moment that you and he were engaged. His excitement got the better of him, the male sweeping you in his arms and swinging you around as he babbled sweet nothings into your ear. The speed wavered his balance, his leg knocking into the table holding a bottle of wine he had ordered specifically for the occasion. Much to both of your bad luck, it all collapsed against the firepit and tipped it over - and one can only imagine what happened next. A rather chaotic ruckus erupted between you as Hanta grabbed you by the waist and flung you both out of the building via the balcony to ensure your safety. Then he 'thwipped' straight back up to the fire and frantically searched for the fire extinguisher to put it out, all whilst you sat on the sandy ground outside, frozen to how drastically the mood had changed.

Luckily the fire didn't spread too far. If not for Hanta's efficiency in dealing with it upfront, it could have spread to the bedroom and the rest of the house. It did not, however, the most damage being the balcony sofas that were scorched no thanks to their wooden frame and white cushioning.

Despite having just been engaged, there wasn't much you and Hanta could do to celebrate. So the night ended with you and he falling to slumber in the early hours of the morning, too exhausted after dealing with the owners' wrath after the slight mishap of nearly setting their building ablaze.

"At least you didn't burn the entire house down," You tried after a few seconds of quiet, earning a scoff on Hanta's part as he ran a hand through his hair.

"It felt like it when I called the owner's to tell them what happened," Hanta answered, softly frowning at the shrieking yells he heard during that call ringing their way through his mind again. Long after he'd shut them out based on the humiliation of being on the receiving end. You giggled, recalling how you were able to hear them despite the phone not being on speaker.

"I'm surprised they let us stay for the rest of the week,"

"That's because I paid the money for the damage caused within six hours of them demanding it," Hanta reminded you, dragging his hands down his face as he groaned out. Probably expelling his inner cringe at his foolishness that night. "Times like that make me relieved I'm a top ten pro, helps out with emergencies a great fucking deal,"

"Are you sure that didn't play any part in their generosity? That you're a top ten pro?"

"No way," He said and sat up to meet your height, hands looping to cradle the small of your back. He held back continuing to briefly peck you on the lips. "The bill they gave me was the complete opposite of generous,"

"How much was it again?" You asked, memory not serving you the answer. The ebony-haired male leaned forwards to kiss you again before he moved his lips up to your ear. His voice became a whisper, telling the sum in Yen which made your eyes widen in astonishment.

"Wow," Was your instinctive reply, Hanta scoffing a laugh in agreement based on your tone of surprise. It was there he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling through his nose to catch a whiff of your scent. The aroma acting as a sedative to wipe the memory from his mind permanently. All he wished to remember of that night was the way your face lit up as he asked you to take his hand in marriage. How your tears formed and how your lips uttered the words he had oh, so desperately wanted to hear after months and months of worry of being rejected.

And look at you both now; husband and wife and on your honeymoon. Holding each other as close as close can be with no doubt or hesitancy in your minds at all. Why he had worried so much was something he would never be able to figure out. As looking back, all of it felt like the easiest thing he had ever had to do.

Due to that, Hanta smiled into your neck. The change could have been missed, but you were far too attentive to not notice. The feeling of his cheeks shaping his smile made you smile as well, your arms wrapping around Hanta's neck in a desperate need to pull him closer. Your fingers ghosted the back of his neck, tickling the hairs that attached with care like no other. You rested your chin on his head, eyes closed gently in comfort. In response, Hanta hummed lowly, hands starting to rub up and down your back like he was giving you a massage.

Silence passed, the two of you simply enjoying the other's company and the intimate moment you had welded together. The proximity created a warmth that could fight any cold, the fireplace behind you both unneeded to fight the swirling snow outside. Your eyes peaked open as the faint crackle of the fire nearby caught your attention. You watched the flames dance for a second or so before you plucked up the confidence to speak.

"Just... let's not set fire to this place. Alright?" You mused, holding your breath as you waited for Hanta's response. Luckily he didn't dismiss it, actually finding the comment quite funny. He voiced a blurt of a laugh, head shaking as much as he could make it whilst it buried into the depths of your neck. Hanta's mouth opened to make his reply, quickly hushing up again to return to the peaceful silence of before, not at all ready to let it go just yet.

"Agreed,"

[downfordiluc]

Kaeya x F Reader One Shot. [Modern AU].

Warning // Explicit Language. No Smut, only fluff.

Synopsis: a night filled with alcohol, dancing and feelings. 

If you rubbed your eyes one more time, you feared they may disappear inside of your skull. The display on your laptop was beginning to sear your retinas, as you watched the clock tick over to 11:30 pm. You should have left work hours ago. Having a hardass for a boss had wasn't something really had any benefits to it, other than the sizeable paycheck you took home after a long week's work; often going ten or twenty hours over your actually scheduled nine to five days.

Being able to finally click save and close the torture machine in front of you was something that you spent every working moment impatiently waiting for, and the satisfaction you got from knowing you could finally go and slump into your bedsheets was something that never really lost its novelty. And yet, tonight wasn't going to be one of those nights.

"Wanna go cause some trouble?"

You looked up blearily at the voice, seeing a tall, tan figure leaning against your doorway, one hand on his hip, and the other in his pocket. The smirk on his lips was one that you couldn't get enough of, but you'd never admit it. You'd never give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

"It's almost midnight, Kaeya." you remarked, as you shrugged your leather jacket onto your shoulders. Despite the protest in your tone, you had basically already succumbed to his plans before even hearing them, as you collected your belongings that were spread over your desk. "And so the night is only young, [Y/N], whaddya say?". This man knew he was born with a silver tongue, and had the power to persuade even the most stubborn to follow his every command. You knew this, and yet you fell victim every damn time.

"Where are we going?", you practically had a white flag waving above your head, as you walked through the door he held open, and yet you weren't fooled - Kaeya was no gentleman. He was a sweet talker, and he played the field like it was second nature to him. Life was like a game of chess, except he was always 5 moves ahead, taking piece after piece off of the board. Women were the pawns.

"Diluc's club, he pissed me off yesterday, and if my memory serves, you're not best pleased with him either.", he looked as though his plan had fallen into place, and yet it had one fatal flaw. "So your plan for revenge, is to financially provide for him by drinking in his club?". You felt as though you had his king in check - winning the game of chess - and might actually get to go home for the night. Yet that stupid smirk returned, and you instantly dropped the glimmer of hope you had grasped onto. "Money is simply an object to him, you know this. But just imagine the look on his face if he saw us both having the time of our goddamn lives, huh?". You hated to admit it, but to see that exact face you were now picturing was an opportunity you would not pass up, even if you hadn't slept for a week.

The night was bitter, biting at your cheeks as you walked down the cobblestoned alleys. No matter how much you pulled at your thin jacket for warmth, it simply wasn't the right choice of attire for the middle of February. "I know a way to warm you up." the man to your right quipped, and you instinctually glared up at him, seeing a saccharine sweet smile upon his face. You rolled your eyes and looked away from him, refusing to step into the trap that was his syrupy gaze. You knew better.

"Vodka".

You heard him chuckle at your blunt response. A soft, breathy laugh that could melt ice, and the heat that rose to your cheeks was welcoming, considering the harsh winds that felt like icicles piercing your skin. He really did have a way to make women putty in his hands, and you had never been more glad you considered yourself above that, considering you were about to get absolutely shit-faced together.

One shot turned to two, and two turned to three, as you bottomed the foul liquid, and slammed each glass onto the table with a loud clink. You hadn't done this in a while, and it had been even longer since you had done it with another person. Drinking alone was usually your style, which now you realised was actually quite sad.

"Slow down, darlin', they'll run out if you aren't careful.", he had absolutely no right to be using words like that, and even less right to witness the colour that lit your cheeks alight. Suddenly, staring at the marble bar seemed a lot more interesting.

"Mind your own business, Alberich. You said you wanted to have fun, this is how I have fun.". You knew full well the worse was yet to come. They say everyone has a second personality when they're drunk, and yours enjoyed partying like the world was going to end tomorrow. You noticed he was nursing his whiskey, and frowned at him, tilting your head to the side and resting it on your fist.

"Didn't take you to be a lightweight." you smiled devilishly into your words, watching his eyes widen slightly in surprise, you could practically see him recoil as though you had smacked him in the face. "Someone's gotta be able to walk to take you home.". The laugh you let out in response was a hearty, full one. Something you hadn't done in a while. You pushed at his shoulder, mocking him further. "Let go, have fun! Worst case scenario, we sleep on the floor. I never took you to be the boring one, Kaeya."

Enough was enough, he raised his glass and allowed the burning liquid to slip down his throat. He pulled a face before his glass made the same clink that your shots had been making for the past hour. "It's on, darlin."

"Two more shots over here, dear brother." You had almost forgotten why you came tonight, as you saw the redhead's brows almost touch, frowning as he had no choice but to stop ignoring the two of you, which he had been trying to do since you strutted into his club.

"And two for me!" You giggled into your words, as he gave you a look that you had never seen on his face. "I like your style, [Y/N]". His voice was lower than usual, probably from the assault on his throat the whiskey had enacted, but you had to admit, it sounded good that way. Too good, judging by the butterflies kicking up a fuss in your stomach. You decided to simply drown them in alcohol, as Diluc slid the drinks across to you without even muttering a word.

You must have had seven or eight shots of vodka by now, and at this point, Kaeya wasn't far behind, his jacket and tie discarded over the back of his stool, as well as two buttons on his shirt being undone. A deep v of tan skin practically begging you to stare. You had similarly discarded your jacket behind you, the alcohol flooding through your veins being what you attributed your rising body temperature to. You didn't even seem to care that all you had on was a lowcut, white tank top, which definitely left a lot less to the imagination than intended. Hopefully, the lighting was low enough that he didn't notice the lace of your bra creating lines under the thin fabric.

"Ahh, I love this song."

You didn't even seem in control of the words leaving your mouth, as a low, smooth beat filled the air around you. This song was one that you would definitely dance to in private, or if you weren't absolutely wasted. Before you even fully acknowledged what you were doing, you had climbed onto the surface in front of you and were gyrating your hips in a way that you wouldn't be caught dead doing sober. Vodka really lowered your inhibitions, a fact which was clearly evident to Kaeya, who couldn't help but stare as your hands worked their way down your body, slowly moving along to the music. He wasn't the only one staring. Pretty much the whole club was watching you let loose on the bar, ogling your figure and looking you up and down like meat on a stick. Diluc, however, could not have looked less impressed if he tried.

"[Y/N], get down from there. Everyone is staring.", Kaeya seemed almost possessive, as he extended his arm to you, trying to convince you to come down, and yet, you hadn't felt this free in a while. "You come up here! Dance with me, darlin'.". He seemed flushed at you using his words against him, but his stance didn't falter, as he kept insisting you come down from the bar. For a change, him and Diluc actually agreed on something.

"You're going to fall, [Y/N]."

"Then catch me, Prince Charming."

Your words were slurred, and it was clearly evident that you were inebriated beyond any point of logic, so Kaeya decided to take things into his own hands. He grabbed at your wrist and lightly pulled, expecting you to get the message, and finally come down. Definitely not expecting you to topple like a domino.

As your brain stopped feeling like it had just been scrambled, you noticed Kaeya's face only inches away from yours, before acknowledging that your body was pressed against his own. You'd actually fallen, holy shit, you were wasted. And yet, he had caught you. Prince Charming had really saved you - how ironic. His strong, defined muscles against your body were significantly more welcoming than the floor, that was for sure. If you weren't already completely certain that you had had more than enough to drink, you were once you caught yourself speaking.

"How about we take this somewhere more private, handsome?". You would be kicking yourself for those words once your blood stopped being what felt like 99% alcohol, and yet right now, you were biting your lip, looking up at him, barely noticing the flush under his tanned skin.

"How about we take you home?" was his response, as he tried to put you onto the floor, your legs buckling, as you sink to his knees. He sighed in defeat, tucking both of your jackets over his shoulder, and pulling you back up to cradle in his arms, using the warmth of his blazer as a pillow as you rested onto his shoulder. Maybe you were the lightweight, after all.

During the walk home, you hardly noticed the cold, between how hot the alcohol had you, and the warmth of his body heat pressed against yours. You barely acknowledged the journey ending until you felt the familiar softness of your bed under your warm body. Instinctively, you curled up onto your side, hugging a pillow, and kicking your shoes off of the side of the sheets.

"Goodnight, [Y/N]. I had fun with you tonight." Despite your vision being blurry, you could tell he was leaned against the wall the exact same way he had been hours ago at work, and you reached for his arm, tugging on his sleeve.

"Stay with me, Kaeya. Please.", you could feel yourself slowly sobering up, as your thoughts became less cloudy and your feelings becoming more lucid, and all you wanted was for him to stay by your side. Nothing sexual about it, you just wanted to feel his body heat radiating against yours as you slipped into slumber. You felt as though you could see the wanting in his eyes also, but his words begged to differ.

"I'll be on the couch." his reply left you feeling downcast, however, this was short-lived as you felt his lips lightly kiss you on the forehead, leaving the spot they had been tingling and prickling with heat. You were comforted knowing he would be there in any capacity, and that was the thought that nursed you to sleep pretending the pillow in your arms was the man who had caught you not long ago.  You knew that you had caught feelings for him in turn. Maybe he wasn't so bad, after all? Maybe he could be your knight in shining armor. The one to keep you company on what would be a lonely night drinking, and the one to hold you tight as your head pounded into the early hours of the morning. Anything would be good, as long as he was there.

[anthonyed]

There's a flower on his table-top. It's the last thing Tony notices; shrivelled, half hidden under a stack of folders with a leaf torn and browned. 

He stares at it for a full five minutes, muscles tensing further and further until the wrench cuts bluntly into his right palm and he hisses as he drops it, feeling burnt. 

It's a quick second distraction from that aged flower but it serves its purpose perfectly. 

Tony turns away, calling for Dum-E to throw it into the trash. 

-

Habitually, he drinks his coffee black and hot. No sugar, no milk needed. Just a quick fix to boost his system so it can function for another four hours. 

Natasha catches him at 4am, wrapped in a woolen cardigan with an irritated frown on her pretty face. 

She stares at him, and stares while he stares right back at her. It's like they're both trying to shift through words to find the right one to say. 

Eventually she turns away and leaves. 

Tony's not surprised, nor is he going to admit it bothers him more than he likes to think. 

-

Clint is blunt. And brutal. 

It's perhaps all the times he'd fallen on his head throughout his life, that he doesn't shy away from calling Tony an asshole, face forward.

"You just gotta destroy someone else along with yourself don't you?" His words cut like daggers.

-

If he's honest, Tony cries. 

Two weeks after that dried rose, he stares at a teardrop on its spot. He hates the stream that doesn't stop but guess that's the price he has to pay for breaking someone's heart. 

It's a strange sort of thing, to notice a drop of clear liquid before realising what it is and then, where it's from. Humiliating too. For Stark men don't cry but Tony always manages to break that streak somehow. 

No wonder Howard hated him when he was alive. 

-

It's the sight of Steve that does it in the end. 

Forlorn in his long cotton sweatpants and thick beard and he's as good as he'd last seen him, or maybe better. But his blue eyes shine less, like something's hardened over them and when they meet Tony, they stare right through him as if he's a stranger.

And that's way too brutal than what he did, Tony thinks. 

Indifference versus rejection and the former will always be the grand prize winner. 

-

One night, after four months of turning away from each other, Steve comes to stand by the window where Tony's at; nursing a glass of whiskey for his rotten heart and his presence is so thick that it moulds around Tony like a warm cocoon. Comfort which he's been yearning for ages now within his reach but it's not really his to own, is it?

They don't speak. They don't look. They simply stand there right next to each other as if testing their boundaries and it goes on for hours and Tony feels tired; his eyes burn with sleep and whiskey but something in his veins pleads him to stay cause it knows if he leaves now, this will be it. 

He doesn't leave. 

-

Two days later, Steve puts a strip of bacon on his plate of breakfast and carries on flipping pancakes like there is nothing out of normal. 

Clint's bite of waffle catches dust on its fork while his jaw hangs slacken staring at both of them. 

Natasha's smirking, but it's barely there, for barely a second before it's gone behind a mug of jasmine tea which scents the whole kitchen. 

Tony chokes on a strawberry, is what all of them think, but really it's a huge lump of tears stuck in his throat which grows and grows until Sam whacks him on the back with all his strength combined. 

"Jesus Christ," he hisses between shaking his head. 

-

Someone tells him on a Saturday, while the Sun is pouring hot into his workspace that Steve is still hung on him as he was before the mess. 

Tony puts a name to that someone when he discards his goggles and meets piercing grey eyes behind a swath of long brown mane and, "My God," he says, "Do you have no plans to cut that lump of grease, Barnes?"

-

One day, he passes by a flower shop on the busy New York street while in search for caffeine post board meeting and it's a slight hesitation in his steps before he hurries along that sits with him until the dead of the night and he recalls vividly the smell of that dried rose he trashed that day and the ache in his chest which feels better now and he's thinking and thinking and -

He orders a bouquet the next day. 

100 red roses within a mass of baby breaths and it's delivered to the garage, not to its intended recipient because Tony is still not sure this day. 

And he still isn't sure even after a day, and another and those roses lose their luster and they wilt and they rot and Dum E kindly blends them into a smoothie which Tony pukes into the toilet bowl a week later. 

-

The thing is, it's not the roses but Steve that he isn't so sure. 

Sure, Barnes was a twittering little nosy bird who sprinkled some hope in Tony's dead garden. Sure, their friends tease them during battles or sometimes some random moments when their eyes meet, or fingers touch or Steve places an extra pancake on Tony's plate or when Tony gives Steve's shield back looking shinier before ever -

Sure, there are instances but, nothing was ever said between them after Tony tossed Steve's heart into the trash can and everything feels broken still sometimes when it's only two of them in a space together. 

-

Courage comes in the form of a death threat when a rebar goes through and through Steve's chest but it barely misses his heart and Tony loses his shit like never. 

If ever Rhodey has seen him so still, it is now by Steve's bedside smelling miraculously of both blood and antiseptic. Even Pepper couldn't get through him, in the end. 

It takes 10 days and three hours for Steve to open his eyes and the first thing he smells is sweet floral. 

Almost too much to the point that he scrunches his nose. Too much that he forgets the pulsating pain at his right temple and the tearing one in his breastbone. But he sees Tony in the mass of red, white, yellow and almost every other color in a rainbow and he understands immediately where the source of it comes from. 

"Maybe I went overboard," Tony rubs his nape, looking oddly out of place but beyond desperate. 

Steve's hand, already in his, gives a good squeeze and he feels better, marginally, but still unearthed. Like he shouldn't be here, but he couldn't help himself because he needs to and he just has to.

Steve croaks, "Just a little," and the twitch of his mouth gives more hope than a lake to a man in a desert. Tony drinks all of it like a starved man and he lets out a sigh he's been holding for ages. And the apology too, slipping through his lips into the clasp of both of their hands. 

"I'm sorry," smelling sickeningly sweeter than the rose which came with Steve's 'I love you' eight months ago and it makes Tony wince. 

Steve's silent through it. Through another hour Tony spends rambling over nothing and everything because Steve hasn't said anything and even then, even when Tony leaves, closing the door behind him, Steve doesn't say a single word. 

-

"Maybe you're wrong," Tony wants to tell him. It's the only reason why he climbs out of his workshop at 3 in the morning because that's when their resident Robocop comes out for late night munchies. 

And he almost says those words because that pair of shoulders are familiar as well as the black hoodie draped over them, except the owner of that body turns and Tony stops dead in his tract, breath caught in his chest because that is not Bucky Barnes but Steve Rogers. 

And then he turns 180 and bolts out of the kitchen.

-

Once upon a time, the only person who'd dare to call him coward to his face would have been Rhodey. But now he's got like 10 of him and everywhere he turns, he seems to run into one of them. 

"What are you running from?" Bruce asks him one day and Tony almost tells him. Almost. Cause it's Bruce and he would never judge but that is about it. 

Something about all of this with Steve makes Tony feel like he should be judged. Bound to a stake and forced to face his judgement day because that's what he deserves for breaking Steve's heart. 

So he opens his mouth, and he closes and he shakes his head and pretends Bruce never asked him a thing at all. 

-

And then Steve walks into his shop - Jarvis, that bloody traitor - and Tony is so shocked about this turn of event that he misses the close proximity Steve puts himself to Tony when he asks roughly, "Did you forget I almost got killed?"

When Tony shakes his head mutedly, he asks, "Then you don't care to see if I recover. Is that it?"

Aghast, Tony opens his mouth to protest but Steve doesn't let him. 

"You spent days sitting and mourning by my bed when I was unconscious and you bought so many flowers as if you wanted to bury me in them. Did you want to bury me in them? Is that why you're running away from me now that I'm back alive?"

And that hurts because, "How dare you?" Tony whispers, breath lost in boiling blood and he blinks back hot tears, looking up at the man he loves. 

Those hardened blue eyes melt and they shine with tears when Steve cups his face and demands, "Then why are you avoiding me?"

"Honestly? Cause I think you hate me," and there it is. The ringing truth which Tony didn't know existed until it comes tumbling out of his mouth and his throat pains when he tries to swallow a building lump cause it hurts to look at Steve when he looks like he's been cut by a thousand knives. 

So he tries to turn away but Steve pulls him into a bone-crushing hug and hisses into the crown of his head, a remarkably unfamiliar word to ever be directed at Tony Stark. 

"Idiot."

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Busted [Sirius Black x Reader]  - Requested 18+

Title: Busted Pairing: Sirius Black x Hufflepuff!Reader Word count: 4k Published: 4 August, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Warning: Smut! 18+ If you are under 18, please do not read! Notes: I got this request almost two weeks ago and I am so so so sorry for being late with it, but smut writing is not really me and so it took me longer to think it through. I really am very much sorry for taking so long with this one, but I hope it's good enough. (Even if I feel it's not. I don't think I have done the best I could.) Disclaimer: Both characters are of age! Summary: You and Sirius have always been close, but in the last year you have been even more involved with each other. However you didn’t want others to know about it, so you kept it a secret. Up until you both made a mistake. Request: [x]

Hey babe💓 I love so so much Fluffy supporter🥺 Now I thinking about A Smut Sirius x hufflepuff!reader Where Sirius and Reader are best friends, but have a secret relationship, (everyone suspects) but one morning after they spent the night together, the whole dining room see how they enter with the wrong ties Please🥺 - Anonymous

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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The Gryffindor common room was unusually loud. The newest hits of the year were blasting loudly from the radio. People were drunk, barely able to stand, still they kept drinking their firewhisky as if they drank water. Some people stood in the corners, chatting about the Ravenclaw vs Gryffindor match, which Gryffindor just about won, some were making out in a more secluded part of the common room, forgetting about the crowd. Of course there were others who were just a tad bit tipsy, dancing in the middle of the room, barely feeling the effects of alcohol.

You were one of those.

You danced with a huge grin across your face as you have been invited by Sirius to join the celebration. Not many Hufflepuffs were invited, only you and your friend, Y/F/N. You slightly felt privileged that Sirius never missed an opportunity to show you off. Even if they only knew about your friendship and nothing beyond that.

Sirius was someone who meant more to you than anyone combined. He was beside you in your darkest times, he was making you laugh when you felt lost. Sirius was a light that shined through the walls you built up carefully around yourself. He knocked them down as if they were never even there.

You loved the boy, you adored him. His carefree attitude made you smile constantly. There wasn't even a second you didn't enjoy spending with him.

You danced in the common room, forgetting about the drink in your hand, swaying your hips to the rhythm, almost spilling the content of your glass. You felt an arm around your waist, but you didn't stop. You knew who he was. His touches sent little shivers through your body, alarming you of his presence. You smiled happily, moving your hips in sync with his.

"Are you enjoying yourself, sweetheart?" He asked as he turned you around in his arms, letting you link your arms behind his neck. His grey eyes were attached to yours, forgetting about anyone else in the room. Your smile grew as you ran your gaze through his handsome features, stopping to glance at his full lips a bit longer than you deemed appropriate.

He realised the way your eyes wondered lower which made his usual cocky smile appear. He bit into his lower lip seductively, knowing how badly it affected you when he did that. It was utter torture for you, watching as his teeth sank into his plump pink lips. You felt the need to grab his neck and pull him down, wanting to feel those cushions against your mouth.

"Stop doing that!" You warned him as you turned around and focused back on dancing. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he let out a cheeky laughter. He leaned down to you, whispering into your ear.

"I will see you later, sweetheart." He hinted a tiny kiss in the crook of your neck, before he turned around and left you dancing with your friends. You looked up at them, finally feeling in control of your Sirius filled thoughts, just to meet two pairs of sceptical eyes.

"What?" You asked as you stopped dancing and took a swig of your drink.

"Friends, right?" Lily asked and you shook your head with an eye roll.

"Are we still on the same subject?" You questioned with a bored expression.

"I don't know about you Lily, but my friends don't look at me like that nor do they start kissing my neck." Y/F/N shrugged, her sceptical look unfazed.

"Interestingly my friends don't do that either." Lily replied, making you groan.

"He didn't start kissing me, he gave me one kiss and as I have told you numerous times before, we are just friends." You threw your arms in the air, feeling agitated all of a sudden. The same conversation has been happening over and over again and you were painfully tired of it.

"Yep..." Y/F/N said, her eyes not even leaving you for a second. You huffed in an annoyed tone, trying to keep your cool. But then you could see her gaze move behind you, settling on a spot. You turned around and your eyes met two dark grey orbs watching every little move of yours. A cheeky little grin appeared on his face and you returned the expression involuntarily. "Is he aware of you being only his friend? Because it certainly doesn't seem like he is." She raised a brow as you turned back to her.

"Just stop it." You told her, downing the glass of drink in your hand.

"Will he?" She asked, making Lily chuckle, which you simply ignored.

"He isn't doing anything. He is standing in a corner, talking to his friends." You huffed, annoyance clear in your voice.

"Yeah, he is simply ogling you. I am telling you, it's not a friendship." She shrugged and you groaned, giving up and leaving them behind. You walked up to Sirius and grabbed his wrist pulling him out of the common room, your rushed steps hitting hard against the concrete floors.

"What is going on?" He asked, but you didn't speak. You kept dragging him along like a playtoy. Although he didn't mind, he loved it when you took control and found it to be a turn on, he was rather concerned for you.

You stopped in front of the Room of Requirements, walking back and forth, before a dark brown door appeared. You walked in, seeing the exact copy of your bedroom as you grabbed Sirius' wrist and pulled him in, closing the door behind him.

"Sit." You said firmly, waiting for him to take a seat on the small couch in front of you. He didn't argue, he simply kicked off his shoes and laid down on the couch, following your order-like request.

"Can I ask what happened?" He spoke with a raised brow, being completely oblivious as to why you dragged him away.

"We-" You pointed at him and then back to yourself." are supposed to be a secret. Why are you staring at me so obviously?" You questioned, which earned a low huffing sound to leave his lungs.

"Can't I admire my girlfriend?" He asked with a bewildered look.

"Believe me, I love the looks you are giving me." You walked up to him, bending down in front of him, cupping his cheeks. "But you can not keep doing this, if we want to keep it a secret." You explained.

"It was your idea in the first place to keep it from others and I still don't get why. Everyone already knows, we just keep denying it." He rolled his eyes, heaving a deep sigh as the conversation repeated itself once again. "I'm tired of hiding it."

"I told you. I'm scared." You spoke lowly, feeling your anxiety resurface. You loved him to the moon and back. He was your everything and every time he was around you, your heartbeat went frantic. But you were scared. You knew how mean his fangirls could be. You feared to make it official in front of others, knowing you would not be able to survive the heartbreak you eventually would get from him. You didn't want others to feel pity for you.

Sirius was watching you with curious eyes, trying to figure out your thoughts, when finally it all clicked. You did make your worries clear before and he had no problem reading your facial expression after having been with you for so long.

"Have I ever cheated on you?" He asked and your eyes grew wide at the sudden question. You quickly shook your head as a response. "Do I show you enough how much I love you?" He spoke again and you nodded quickly, reassuring him. "Do you love me?" He pulled you down to him, forcing you to straddle him as he rested his arms around your waist. You breathed out a firm 'yes' before hinting a small kiss on his lips. "So what are you worried about?" He questioned and you knew you should be sure of him and your relationship, but those stupid little voices in your head confused you. You awkwardly played with the end of his tie, keeping your eyes away from him.

"Nothing is forever. I'm scared to feel weak and pathetic when you break up with me." You spoke weakly. You looked up into his dark grey orbs to see them growing wider by the second.

"Why on earth would I break up with you?" He asked, pulling you closer, keeping his gaze on you.

"I don't know. There could be multiple reasons. Maybe you will find someone better or-" You wanted to continue, but he interrupted you. He placed his hand behind your neck and pulled you down to him, pushing his lips against yours firmly. You melted into his embrace, enjoying his warm lips on yours, making all your worries disappear. As he pulled away, he didn't let you go. He placed his forehead against yours and looked into your loving gaze.

"Was I clear enough? Noone is better than you! I love you and you have to accept that. I want to show others that you belong to me and I belong to you. I want others to know that they will never have a chance to get close to you because I will break them into tiny little pieces." He grimaced, making you chuckle at his tad bit possessive behaviour.

"Give me a bit of time and I guess we can do it." You smiled sweetly, hoping for it to turn out well. You just needed time to get yourself ready. Sirius' wild grin was fixed across his face as he pulled you down for another heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, wanting to feel his closeness, whilst his hands wandered under your blouse, his palm running through your soft skin. "Where are those hands?" You chuckled into the kiss.

"Where they should be." He smiled as he wandered down to your neck, hinting sweet kisses along your neckline, teasingly biting into your skin to make you moan. He ran his tongue across your sweet spot, gently sucking on it as you ground in his lap. He groaned at the friction you created, grabbing your hips to steady you. "Stay put, sweetheart." He moaned against your skin, causing goosebumps to appear on your arms.

"What if I don't want to?" You whispered into his ear, stopping him in your skin's appreciation.

"Don't play dirty, I know your weaknesses." He growled in a low tone, his grey irises turning darker, filled with lust.

"And I know yours." You pulled his face closer as you started grinding in his lap once again, making him moan, trying to stop your hips, unsuccessfully. He placed his arms under your butt, lifting you up, whilst walking over to the bed. He threw you on top of the mattress, making you squeak as you landed harshly on the duvet. You didn't have time to complain, Sirius was already crawling above you, kissing you harshly, claiming his territory.

His hands didn't waste time, he was already working on your last button by the time you came to realise what he was doing. You sat up, pushing your chest to his as he took off your shirt, and undone the tie, with a swift movement throwing them on the floor.

You hurried to remove his tie, unbuttoning his shirt, wanting to feel his body against you finally. Your hand shook in anticipation, causing him to chuckle lightly as he ran his eyes across your half naked chest, playing with the string of your bra.

Finishing with the last button you yanked it off him, throwing it next to your blouse, before cupping his face to kiss him again. You linked your legs around his torso, pushing yourself up to turn the position, straddling his hips in the process. You looked down at him, running your fingertips through his toned upper body, stopping at the edge of his trouser. You grinned playfully as you bit into your lower lip, your mind already craving his closeness.

You hovered above him, kissing him firmly, before wondering down to his neck, making him moan at your actions. You left tiny kisses on his torso, gently running your nails across his chest, reaching his trousers with a cheeky smile. He returned your expression, watching every movement of yours as you unzipped his trousers and slowly pulled it down his legs, leaving the piece of clothing on the floor.

He was beautiful, mesmerising. He was an eighteen year old teenager, but he looked like a grown man who captured every thought of yours with his mere presence. You kneeled above him, kissing his collarbone, before once again you started going down to his most sensitive area. You looked up at him as you left open mouth kisses on his torso, his eyes lustful, his lips parted in anticipation. You pulled down his boxer, his erection standing proudly in front of you.

You got hold of it, slowly moving your hand up and down on its length making him growl as his eyes closed down. He was heaving deep breaths as your hand picked up a faster pace. You smiled at his satisfied state, before you took his member in your mouth, hearing his breath hitch. He growled at the warm and wet feeling, running his fingers through your messy hair. He gently controlled your movements as your head kept bobbing up and down between his thighs, making his breathing pick up a faster pace. Loud groans left his lungs as you played with your tongue around the head of his member, whilst fastening the pace of your hand around his shaft.

You squeaked as he pulled you up unexpectedly, firmly attaching his lips to yours, his kiss uncontrolled, slightly sloppy.

"That's enough sweetheart." He breathed and pushed you down on the bed, removing your shoes and stockings, before kissing you again. He started taking off your skirt impatiently, almost ripping your clothing off in the process.

"Someone is eager." You chuckled, making him groan lightly. He trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses across your upper body. He pulled you up to his chest, kissing your neck, nibbling on your sensitive spot, whilst unhooking your bra. He took it off you, sending it to the other side of the room, his gaze attached to your chest.

"Merlin, you are so beautiful." He breathed, making you chuckle.

"Merlin?" You questioned giggling, which he simply responded by biting your breast gently. Your breath hitched at the unexpected sensation, making you fall back onto the bed. He massaged one of your breasts with one hand, whilst spoiling the other with his tongue, making you squirm under him. Your breath quickened as his tongue drew circles around your nipple, nibbling on the sensitive area.

He kept his hand working as he wandered down to your belly, kissing his way towards your underwear, before pulling down the black lace thong.

"I want to rip it off." He breathed against your inner thigh, pulling down the material as slowly as he could manage in his uncontrollable state. He wanted to feel you around him, he wanted to feel you as close to him as possible. But he liked to take his sweet time.

"But you won't." You replied as he gave you a cheeky smile and an eye roll, removing your panties and dropping it on the floor.

He kissed his way back up your inner thigh, leaving you a moaning mess as he kept away from your most sensitive area on purpose.

"Who is eager now?" He questioned, but you couldn't answer. You heaved a shaky sigh as you felt his breath against your slit, the cool air hitting hard against the warmness between your legs. He smiled proudly, before licking across the small ball of nerves, making your hip buck up in anticipation.

"Please." You breathed involuntarily, making him chuckle. He leaned closer, running his tongue across the area once more, your hips coming up to him involuntarily. He placed a hand across your lower abdomen, holding you down as his tongue took you on a rollercoaster ride of sensations, making you cry out as his fingers joined in on pleasuring you. You didn't know what to concentrate on. His playful tongue, his lips sucking on the little ball of nerve, his thick digits inside of you, the movements of fingers in and out of you or the sensation of the warmness forming a knot in your stomach. You didn't think long as you felt the inside of your walls contract, leaving you a mess of moans and screams, before releasing you to let you ride your high out.

You kept heaving heavily as you ran your fingers across your hair, your eyes concentrating on the inside of your eyelids, enjoying the satisfaction you just received.

You didn't have time to rest much as you felt Sirius' lips on yours, his tongue meeting yours as you tasted yourself. You pulled him closer, locking your legs around his hips, urging him to take you finally. You felt him chuckle into your neck. He kept kissing you, whilst aligning himself with your entrance. You gripped his hips, wanting to feel him already, firmly grabbing his skin, but he didn't move. You wanted to groan at his behaviour, but your sound was cut short as you felt him fill you up. He didn't give you time to adjust, he started pounding into you enjoying the friction between his member and your walls.

His groans were low and shaky as you watched his long black hair sweating under his heavy movements. You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, wanting to feel him even closer. He quickened the pace, making you moan his name into the kiss. His lustful eyes attached to yours as he cupped your face, watching you, feeling your walls close around him. Your breathing became uneven, your lips dried out. You felt the sensation wash over you, making your back arch, your breasts pushing against his chest, a loud scream leaving you in pleasure. Sirius kissed you, nibbling on your bottom lip whilst you got lost in ecstasy. He quickened his movements, reaching you with a loud growl leaving his lungs, before falling on top of you.

You were taking deep breaths to organise your breathing, whilst Sirius laid on top of your chest, listening to your heart beating uncontrollably. You ran your hands across his hair, playing with the ends. He hummed in satisfaction, causing you to giggle at his child-like behaviour.

"I love you." He breathed as he pushed himself up to be able to look into your eyes.

"I love you too." You whispered against his lips.

He rolled off you to go and clean himself up, leaving you time to do the same and drink a small vial you placed in the pocket of your skirt just in case this was to happen. You drank the potion, protecting you against any unwanted pregnancy and laid back on the bed, pulling the cover over you as you waited for Sirius to return.

He crawled under your cover, pulling you on to his chest, hinting a small kiss on your forehead.

"Good night, sweetheart." He spoke in a tired tone.

"Good night, love." You replied with a small yawn, snuggling deeper into his arm.

Morning came fast. When you woke up and looked at your watch, you jumped out of bed, trying to collect all of your clothes as quickly as you could. You picked up one of Sirius' shoes and threw it at the snoring boy, who shot up with a tired, but surprised expression.

"What?" He asked, not even aware of where he was for a second.

"We have to go, breakfast is almost finished." You replied quickly. Throwing all of his clothes on to the bed.

"So? We can go to the kitchen later." He said, as he fell back onto the bed.

"You know I hate eating in the kitchen. Now get yourself up." You instructed him and he finally decided to do as you so kindly asked him, whilst whining constantly.

As you stepped into the Great Hall, the place went silent. You looked around, searching for the source of surprise that came over them, before you realised everyone was watching you and Sirius. You looked up at him questioningly, but his eyes were running across the room with a suspicious look and a deep frown, just like yours seconds before.

He looked at you with a questioning look, before his eyes wandered down to your chest. A huge grin took over his expression, before a loud laughter exploded from his lungs. You still didn't understand what was happening, but then he took your red Gryffindor tie in his hands, waving it in front of you. Red... Your eyes grew wide, your lips parted as you realised he was wearing your yellow Hufflepuff tie. You raised your palms to your face, hiding yourself from the curious looks.

"Sweetheart, look at me." He tried to remove your hands, but you didn't let him. "You said you would want to reveal us anyway. It just came a bit earlier." He chuckled, not helping your embarrassed situation.

"Not like this though." You cried into your hands.

"Come on, sweetheart. Everyone suspected it already." He said as he kissed your forehead and finally removed your hands from your heavily blushing face. "Come, sit with us." He said as he pulled you up to the Gryffindor table. You could feel the intense stares you have received from the other students, whilst walking up to Sirius' friends.

"Let me guess-" James stood up with a huge grin. "this has been ongoing for a while." Sirius chuckled at his friend and waved him down, not to tease you.

"Friends?" Lily joined the teasing, making you blush even darker. You sat down beside Sirius as he wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him, reassuring you.

"Yes, we have been together for a while, we just wanted to keep it a secret." Sirius spoke up, seeing your unresponsive state.

"How long is for a while?" Remus asked with a raised brow and a half smile.

"Maybe a year." Sirius replied, causing his friends to gasp.

"Wait what? You kept it away from us for a whole year?" James questioned with a slight annoyance in his voice.

"I made him." You interrupted. "I'm sorry, I just wasn't sure. I was worried. I didn't know how others would take it or how it would affect us if others knew." You explained, looking at his friends.

"I mean, it wasn't really a secret. We kind of suspected it." Peter spoke with a shrug.

"Shut up Wormtail, you were the most oblivious one." James chuckled as he punched his friend on the shoulder. "I'm glad you finally got it out there, although it was certainly a coming out to remember." He smirked and you took a piece of carrot from the plate and threw it at him. "Hey!" He whined.

"That wasn't funny." You said as you blushed even harder, hiding in Sirius' protective arms.

"It was though." Sirius said nuzzling up against you, hiding his face in your neck as you felt his quiet laughters. You shook your head, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile creeping up on your face anymore.

Tags: I didn’t tag anyone as I wasn’t sure of the ages.

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don't forget to like and/or reblog the chapter. Thank you :) 

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

[shyvioletcat]

71) “You look good in that.” for the firefighter au!!!!

Here’s another Striking Matches Drabble for Firefighter Friday! I promise Light the Sparks is coming, I just haven’t had a moment to get the outline sorted.

You’ll probably want to read THIS drabble beforehand

Striking Matches Masterlist

~~~~~

There was a pile of discarded clothes on Aelin’s bed that she could see behind her as she looked over her current outfit in the mirror. She was sure this was the one. It was a mustard coloured flowy, knee length dress, the top overlapping to give a false wrap effect. The tie at the waist was the real selling point though, meaning she could leave it a little looser than she would probably usually have it. At 12 weeks pregnant she had just started to show and her wardrobe was starting to be compromised. Aelin couldn’t help herself and turned to the side, smoothing the fabric over the dress over her stomach to see the slight change in her body and smiled. Unless you were really looking for it, it wasn’t noticeable. But Aelin was always looking at it when she could.

“You look good in that,” Rowan said from the doorway and Aelin looked over to see him leading on the door frame.

She smiled at him as he smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“You ready to go?” He asked, moving into the bedroom. “You’ll need a coat. There’s a chilly wind out there tonight.”

Aelin checked the tie on her dress and watched as Rowan flicked through the jackets and coats that hung in her wardrobe. He pulled out a simple black coat and Aelin nodded her approval of the choice. Holding it out for her he helped her slip it on, making sure it didn’t catch on the brace she was still wearing on her wrist.

She untucked her hair from the collar and checked herself over in the mirror one last time. “Alright, let’s go. We don’t want to keep the grandparents waiting.”

Rowan positively beamed at those words.

Tonight they were going out to dinner with both sets of their parents and would announce the pregnancy to them. Besides Rowan’s team and Elide, the parents would be the first to be told. Aelin felt a little bad that they weren’t the first to know, and she knew Rowan felt the same, but they couldn’t help what happened. After Aelin had sworn them all to secrecy they had all managed to keep the news to themselves. 

Aelin’s mother had been beside herself when she’d heard about the accident. They had been visiting family in Varese when Aelin had called from the hospital and Evalin had been ready to get on the next flight back to Orynth, but Aelin had assured her she was fine, and also left out the fact that she would be staying in a few days for observation. Rowan’s parents had been just as equally distraught but they had already planned to visit a few weeks later so they held out, very conveniently arriving around the same time as Aelin’s parents. It had been too easy to suggest that they all have dinner together.

Hand in hand the parents-to-be walked out of the apartment, down the flights of stairs, and onto the street. They were meeting at a restaurant that was walking distance from their apartment which was all part of the plan. When Aelin and Rowan arrived, both sets of parents were waiting outside chatting together. When Evalin saw Aelin she immediately broke from the group, gathering her daughter into a hug.

“Careful, Mum. My ribs,” Aelin squeaked and was then immediately being held at arm's length, her mother’s scrutinising eye running over her.

“I thought you said you were okay now,” Evalin said, a hand coming to rest on Aelin’s cheek.

“I am, just healing,” Aelin insisted. 

Evalin narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

Aelin’s answer was an eyeroll, bluffing her way through the physical toll her pregnancy was taking on her body. 

“Yes, Mother. I am absolutely fine,” Aelin assured her. “I’ve had this one fussing over me non-stop so.”

Evalin finally let go of Aelin and looked away from her to Rowan. “Hello Rowan. How are you?” 

“I’m good,” Rowan replied and they hugged each other briefly. 

By then everyone else had wandered over, with more greetings and reassurances that yes, she was fine Aelin returned to Rowan’s side. Rowan was just smiling knowingly as he let Aelin deal with the situation. She knew that if she didn’t get him inside soon and distracted by food he would spill the big secret before the big reveal she had planned.

“Shall we?” Aelin said and led the way into the restaurant. 

Dinner had been lovely. Aelin was eternally grateful that her parents and her in-laws actually got on. They were so distracted by the conversation they didn’t notice that Aelin had ordered a chicken instead of steak, like she usually would. But the only way to eat steak was medium in the very least and her doctor has been insistent that all her meat be fully cooked. They also managed to miss the fact she had kept to water instead of a glass of wine, although her father had looked very confused for a second there as Aelin told the waiter her denial.

Now they were trekking back up the stairs, almost to their floor. The parents were coming in for more chatting and probably another drink, Aelin was really counting on that drink part. Rowan’s eyes were brimming with excitement as he unlocked the door. He was too adorable.

Aelin breezed into the apartment heading towards the bedroom to drop off her coat, as she got to the door she heard Rowan offer everyone a drink. There was a general consensus which had Aelin grinning.

“Just water for me please,” Iris chimed in.

“Of course, Mum,” Rowan said from the kitchen.

Aelin met him there, where we had four tumbler glasses and a bottle of wine on the counter as he was grabbing a jug of water from the fridge. Aelin looked at the glasses, glad they had arrived in time. Each one read their respective grandparent name with EST April and the year engraved delicately on the glass. Rowan poured out the drinks, practically humming with restrained excitement as he did so. When he was done he picked up the glasses for his parents and Aelin did the same for hers. They were all sitting on the couch, Iris, Evander and Evalin on the seats and Rhoe was on the arm of it next to Evalin. Rowan sat in the single armchair once he relinquished his drinks, Aelin perching on his lap a moment later.

“How’s the station, Rowan?” Rhoe asked and the conversation started flowing again. 

Aelin was hardly paying attention, she could sense Rowan doing the same as they waited for one of them to realise. Her eyes kept jumping from parent to parent when finally she saw Iris go perfectly still and look at her glass, the water more easily showing the words, when her eyes went wide Aelin knew it was about to get going. 

“Evan,” Iris breathed, but her husband didn’t hear her. Then she started tapping his leg furiously as she said his name again. “Evan, Evan. Look at your glass.”

“What? Is it dirty?” He said and Aelin almost burst out laughing, Rowan was hiding his smile behind his hand.

Then it was Evalin who squealed.

Aelin looked over at her mother and already saw tears brimming in her eyes.

“Oh,” Rhoe’s deep voice said quietly as he turned his glass in his hand. “Oh.”

“Wait…” Evander said, still not quite getting it and held the glass at arms length as he squinted to read in engraving. When he did he almost dropped his drink.

“You’re pregnant?” Evalin finally said, her voice thick with emotion.

“You bet, Grandma,” Aelin told her, trying to cover her own fraying emotions with a little bravado. Rowan’s firm squeeze to her hip told her she had failed. 

There was a flurry of movement and then Aelin was being pulled off Rowan’s lap and being embraced by both her parents, very enthusiastically but gently. They let her go and congratulated Rowan while his parents congratulated her, then eventually Aelin was tucked into Rowan’s side, his arm snaking around her waist as he dropped a kiss onto her head. The newly announced grandmothers were wiping at their eyes and Aelin noted that he father’s eyes were shining in the light.

Then Evalin whirled on them, something akin to devastation on her face. “You were pregnant in the accident?”

Aelin held onto Rowan a little tighter as she nodded. 

“Oh, baby,” Evalin whispered and Rhoe pulled her in for a hug.

“That would have been terrifying,” Iris added.

It was Rowan who answered. “It was, but we were very, very lucky. And now we’re excited beyond belief.” 

Aelin looked up at Rowan then and he looked down at her. They had been incredibly lucky that Aelin had walked away from that accident with minimal injuries and that the baby hadn’t been harmed. As Rowan smiled and then kissed her, she knew she was truly the luckiest woman in the world. 

~~~~~

Thanks for reading *blows kisses to you all*

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Secrets ~ 4

Warnings: noncon sexual acts later in series; spanking

This is dark!Bucky and dark!Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A buried family secret comes to light thrusting you to the forefront of an old alliance.

Note: Okey dokey, in for a long day but enjoy this while I’m away.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

After hours of Barnes’ relentless criticism and the ridiculous strutting, you were allowed a break. The stress, the jet lag, the anger. It all mounted and left you exhausted. You were shown to your room; grand despite your own treatment. It certainly fit the title of Duchess but had you wondering why your bearing didn’t allot you an ounce of authority. By his own logic, you should be ordering Barnes around.

You collapsed into the plush bed. You didn’t have the energy to admire the canopy, or the fancy furniture, or sheer luxury of the room alone. You fell into a heavy sleep but it did not relieve the turmoil of your mind. Your dreams swirled with Barnes’ unyielding voice, your mother’s home, the roaring plane, the looming portraits of queens glaring down at you. There was no escape.

You woke with a start, the heavy, feather duvet torn from around you. You sat up and let out a pathetic squeak as your vision was still blurry from your heavy sleep. You shook your head and drew your legs up as you stared at the man who let the blanket slump across the bottom of your bed. He tilted his head as he looked back at you, as disapproving as always.

“Time to get up,” Barnes announced.

You hugged your legs and huffed. “Holy shit, dude. You could’ve just set an alarm.”

“Hmpf,” He hung his head as his hands went to his hips and he pursed his lips. 

He stood straight, determined, and marched around the bed to you. He grabbed your arm and tugged you to the edge of the bed, your legs slipped down as you were turned to look at him. He framed your chin with his hand and forced you to look up at him.

“First, that language. If I hear another word today and I will fulfill yesterday’s promise.” He warned. “Second, we do not address anyone as ‘dude’. It’s not proper. Third, this is what you wear to bed?”

You felt along the loose grey tee blindly, the front half tucked into your granny panties, and blanched. You shrugged to cover your discomfort.

“What is proper? Walking like I have a stick up my ass and preening over pompous jerks like some desperate debutante.”

“Again, Duchess, you tempt me to wash out that filthy mouth,” He squeezed and drew you up to your feet. “I will allow that you are tired; still waking up. I will have patience for…” He raised his other arm and checked his watch. “The next twenty minutes as you ready. After, the rules stand. No swearing, no slouching…” He released you and stepped back. “And smile, your highness. You’re much more endearing then.”

He smirked and gave a bow. Almost sarcastic. You weren’t entirely sure how a bow could be sarcastic but he’d figured it out. You narrowed your eyes at him as he left and when the door closed, you sat on the bed heavily and swore under your breath. Better to get it out now and not tempt the drill sergeant hounding your every move.

👑

Barnes awaited you. You wouldn’t say eagerly, more impatiently. He guided you along the polished, shining hallways of the palace. You could feel his side eye, the silent measure of your step. You tried to walk as he had bid you. Tried to stand as straight as you could, feet close together, head high. You felt stupid.

He stopped before a pair of double doors and turned back to you.

“This is the queen’s toilette. Queen Alaine furnished the room back in 1742 and since it has been left mostly the same aside from a few necessary updates.” He explained. “It is where the prospective brides are to refine themselves before their weddings. Remember, duchess, you’re foremost concern is pleasing the king.”

“Is it?” You asked dryly.

He took a sharp breath and his brows drew together. He blinked slowly and reached to the handle of the right door.

“You should be concerned,” He said as he turned to open the door. “If you make him unhappy, there is nothing I can do beyond your wedding day to help.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Helping me?” You asked.

“Whether you realise it or not.” He replied and held the door for you.

You entered and were met by a round room of mirrors. Every angle of you was reflected back at you and you turned, each glance at the glass gifting a new insecurity. Barnes entered behind you and pulled shut the door, another mirror on its rear. He came up behind you and hooked his arm around you, drawing you to the centre of the room.

“I have made appointments for stylists to come and deal with…” He waved a hand towards your face. “All of this. For now, we will outfit your royal wardrobe. Fortunately, several designers have sent over racks as a favour to the throne.” You didn’t miss his eyes as they focused on your reflection. “So…’ He turned you and led you to one of the mirrors, he reached to press on it and it clicked outward. He drew it open and nudged your forward. “Go on and start.”

“What?” You stopped in the doorway to the attached room hidden behind the mirror. Racks of clothing hung in varying shades from pastel to jewel to the darkest hues hung from the hangers. 

“We must go through each item to make certain they are suitable and set aside any that require proper fitting,” He advise. “I will await your first selection in the next room,” He gestured behind him. “So that we can get a good look at it.”

You frowned. The idea of wearing clothing you didn’t choose in front of a dozen mirrors and a man you could hardly stand was assuredly a living hell. He grinned and closed the door behind him as he disappeared through it. You stomped your foot. He treated you so much like a child, you were starting to act like one. Or maybe he was giving you a complex.

You went to the first rack. A powder blue dress with long sleeves was the first. It was very Jackie O. You took the hanger and sat on the cushioned bench. You didn’t change right away. You felt as if it was another strip of your independence being ripped away from you. Well, given the situation, how much did you really have left?

You stood and laid the dress out as you undressed. You pulled on the dress and found it fit quite snugly. It wasn’t as matronly as it looked on the hanger. The back was an open vee with a thin strap across the top, while the front allowed a sense of modesty while hugging your figure. You hated it already.

You hesitated as you neared the door. You took a moment to let out a stream of curses under your breath and made yourself open it. You stepped through, Barnes sat on a stool and looked up at you, his eyes discerning as they took in every inch of you. He reached to trace the line of his jaw as he thought. He glanced at the mirrors and dropped his hand.

“The cut is great, the colour, not so much,” He remarked. “Red would be nice. If we were to go with blue, it would have to be darker. Something akin to the king’s colours.”

You crossed your arms. “Is that a no? Because I don’t like it.”

He chuckled. “I’m not concerned if you like it, duchess, my worry is the king’s satisfaction. If I cannot get you to behave as a lady, you must at least look like one.”

You pouted and dropped your arms. Fuck the king, you thought. You wanted to say it so badly. He seemed amused by your internal struggle as he laughed again.

“Put it on the empty rack with the pink tag and try the next,” He shifted on the stool. “We don’t have all day.”

You stomped back through to the room and threw the door closed. You shed the dress and hung it as he told you. You took the next, a canary yellow you were very wary off. Shorter sleeves, flouncy skirt. It would be cute if it wasn’t so cockatiel.

You changed and re-entered the cell of mirrors. Barnes tilted his head one way then the other. He smiled.

“I like it. Turn.” He spun his finger and you stayed as you were. “Go on, duchess, show off.”

You glared at him.

He stood and neared you. His expression turned stern as he came close and grasped your shoulders. He turned you and you faced your reflection all around you. His eyes roved down the back of the dress before he drew close and was nearly flush against you as he gazed at the mirror ahead of you.

“This is much more you, wouldn’t you agree? Younger, carefree?” His hands ran down your arms. “And I think the king would like something a bit more… innocent.”

You blinked in disgust and wriggled away from him.

“He looking for some pure maiden?” You spun to face him. “I’m afraid there’s not many of those anymore.”

“Our king isn’t stupid,” Barnes countered. “He is aware of feminine wiles but you will not mention any of your past… indiscretions to him. It would be an insult to your union.”

“And what about his?” You challenged. “I’m not stupid either. I’ve seen the articles, the photos.”

“A prince is allowed his mistakes,” Barnes said. “There are kings who’ve done worse. I am certain that you could name a few yourself given your extensive knowledge on the matter.”

“So a queen must be an abstinent cyborg?” You hissed.

“A queen must be what he king wants her to be,” Barnes came closer. “We’ve yet to see what he wants of you but we’ll do our best to guess,” He leaned in so that you felt his breath. “That dress goes on the rack with the white tag.”

He backed away and returned to his perch on the bench. He sat and stared at you, he fluttered his fingers impatiently.

“Well, go on,” He bid. “Or did you require help?”

You sneered and turned on your heel. You swept back into the side room and slammed the door. You wriggled free of the yellow mess and hung it. You went to the racks and grimaced at the array of tulle, silk, and satin. You took the next, a mint dress with sharp shoulders. The colour didn’t exactly match the silhouette.

You sat and held the dress in your lap. You felt the fabric between your fingers and sighed. You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life like some doll to be dressed and played with. You didn’t want to wear these stupid overpriced dresses and you didn’t want to marry a stranger who to this point had a penchant for frat boy antics. You doubted that age had changed him that much.

You were shaken from your resentful and self-pitying trance by a knock at the door. You sat up as Barnes voice sounded from the other side. “I’m waiting.”

“Fuck off.” You snarled back as you tossed aside the dress and stood.

You grabbed your jeans from the other end of the bench and began to pull them on. The door opened before you had them past your knees and you were bowled over by a sudden force. Barnes shoved you so that you tripped, tangled in the denim, and caught yourself on the bench.

Before you could stand, his hand was on the small of your back. He held you down. His strength was frightening as he easily pinned you against the bench. You were stuck, prone in only your bra and panties as your jeans bunched at your ankles. You pushed on the edge of the seat and tried to force yourself up but couldn’t get the leverage.

“I told you about that language.” His other hand struck your ass and you cried out in surprise and rage.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You struggled against his grasp.

“What needs to be done.” He growled as he spanked you again. “You insist on being a brat so let me treat you like one.”

“Stop!” You hollered. “What the--”

He slapped your ass again and it stung so much you whimpered. You kicked you, your feet still trapped in your jeans and you reached to the floor.

“Ah! Get off! Get off!” You shouted.

“Watch,” Smack. “Your,” Smack, “Mouth.” Smack.

“I am telling you,” You grunted as you wriggled helplessly. “As your duchess-- to let me go!”

You expected another smack but it never came. His hand left your back and he stood straight. Your nerves fizzled as you slowly pushed yourself up and turned to sit on the bench. Your ass still buzzed from the unceremonious spanking. You folded your arms over your chest as you tried to cover yourself. He had no shame as he looked you up and down.

“That’s what you need, your highness,” He purred. “You need to start acting like a duchess.”

“Get out,” You snarled. “Now.”

His lips curved and his eyes drifted from your face. You squirmed and reached to the dress you’d left on the other end of the bench and pulled it over to cover yourself. You stood and clumsily stepped out of your jeans. You neared him as your humiliation boiled to anger.

“I said get out,” You hissed. “I am a duchess and I’ve given you an order.” You poked his chest, he didn’t flinch. “And I doubt your king would appreciate you leering at his future queen.”

He snickered, quietly. He raised his hands and turned his palms out defensively. He backed away from you and paused at the door. He bowed his head. 

“Your highness,” He said. “Let us not repeat this. You can skip that one,” He nodded to the dress. “The rack with the red tag.”

He turned and strode through the door, a subtle click in his stead as you were left to stand hugging the horrible mint green monstrosity. You closed your eyes and waited for your heart to slow from its frantic beating.

You lowered the dress from your front and reached to touch your tender ass. The brush of your fingertips sent a shiver through you. How loyal was Barnes truly? To the king? To himself? You weren’t sure you wanted to find out.

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Che Bellissima Neve

Pairings: Romantic Prinxiety

TWs: agoraphobia mention, just a lot of long distance pining

Summary: With his lover constantly travelling the world, acting on stages all over Europe and beyond, Virgil wonders if it’ll be snowing in Venice by the time he sees Roman again...

(Recommended music: Snow In Venice by Elizaveta)

--

Virgil Giordano was never normally one for things like promises and long goodbyes. 

Coffee in hand, he warmed his cold fingers against the mug. His phone was right there by his side, but his right index finger instead busied itself - not with numbers - but with cursive. 

Looping letters. 

Spelling out where his heart lay.

The winter had seen fit to bless Venice with a soft kiss of frost. Gathering in the corners of the windows, haphazardly along the walkways, tickling the noses and lips of passers by. All the while Virgil couldn’t fight off the disappointment as the sky remained clear. The stars were beautiful, but his wasn’t among them. No, his star was miles away from where he should be; back home, in Virgil’s arms. 

Stealing his body warmth while they cuddled together. Complaining at the lack of room for the both of them on the one chair, but still refusing to move. Running his hands through the freshly plum pigmented plume of hair atop Virgil’s head. 

A soft sigh left Virgil as the homebound poet quietly pined for his lover. 

-

Roman D’Angelo had only dreamt of this level of stardom in far fetched dreams and scrawled in journals during drama lessons. 

Even as he walked out of Berlin’s Theatre Des Westens still wearing his getup as Leopold Bloom, Roman could hardly believe he was one of the most sought after up-and-coming musical actors in Europe. Stopping for autographs was brief; Roman adored his fans of course, but the face he always longed to see among them was never there. Not for a lack of wanting, but because his beloved was confined to his home - no, their home, it was always home for the both of them no matter how far Roman travelled - by his agoraphobia. Roman never held it against him, he only wished he could call home more often. 

As his taxi passed a phonebox, Roman politely asked the driver to stop. His wallet held rarely any change these days, but he had what he hoped would be enough.

The cold night air caressed his fingers unpleasantly. Curse his lack of patience, but spontaneity was always Roman’s forte when it came to acts of the heart. Screw his phone that needed charging back in his hotel room, he needed to hear his beloved’s voice that second. Each number dialled brought a new rush of excitement and nerves until the phone began to ring.

He just hoped Virgil hadn’t decided to have an early night..

-

Luckily for Roman, Virgil was as much an insomniac as he was an agoraphobe.

Of course, he didn’t recognise the number, perhaps it was a spam caller? Probably. He rolled his eyes and went back to sipping his cooling coffee, content to let the answering system take a message. Instead of some hack trying to sell him car insurance or some scam worthy payment plan, the voice on the other end had Virgil scrambling to answer the call so quickly he nearly doused himself in lukewarm bean water.

“Virgil? It’s me, though I take it you must be asle-”

“Roman!”, Virgil cursed the crack in his voice as he answered, “I’m here, Princey. It’s been a while, where are you calling from this time, mister world-famous-actor?”

Roman’s hearty laughter had Virgil’s own heart beating so loudly he wondered if he should schedule a doctor’s visit. “I’m not quite there yet, cuore mio. But I’m in Berlin, Charlottenburg to be exact. And it’s still snowing, in fact it’s snowed every night since opening night. Can you believe that?”

“Really?”, Virgil sighed, unable to stop the fond smile making itself at home on his lips, “Sounds lovely.”

“It is…. But it does have its drawbacks.”, the actor mused, drinking in the adorable noise of intrigue his lover made over the phone.

“And what would they be?”

“... It’s not home.”, Roman began, his eyes following the tufts of snow that danced through the skies outside the phone box. “And you’re not here.”

For a moment, Roman wondered if he’d overstepped. If he’d made Virgil feel bad for not being able to be beside him, but his fears were replaced by a longing he wasn’t aware he was capable of as Virgil’s voice - almost strange in it’s softness - caressed his ears, 

“Funny, I was just thinking that myself.”

It was hard for Roman to find the words, but he mustered the courage to ask, “Are you doing alright, Virge?”. The silence gave Roman his answer, he knew Virgil would never admit to him outright just how much he missed him, how lonely he was at night without Roman by his side. Well, not directly.

“... When will you be home again, vita mia?”

Virgil knew Roman would be home in an instant if he could manage it. If he wasn’t bound by the dream he’d had since their adolescent years, Virgil knew his beloved would be in his arms right that second. But the poet knew what he signed up for when he fell in love with Roman D’Angelo; he was prepared to let his beloved chase his dreams while he could never follow alongside him. That didn’t mean it hurt any less to be without him.

“...Virgil? Are you still there?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Sorry, I-“

“Got caught up in your thoughts again, cuore mio?”

Virgil nodded bashfully before realising Roman couldn’t see him, “Yeah. I just…. I miss you so much, Roman..”

“... I know you do. And I miss you too.”

He hadn’t meant for Roman to hear the soft, dejected huff he let out, but as he practically heard Roman frown over the phone, Virgil sighed, “It’s been almost a year, Roman, almost a year of telling myself not to be selfish, just wishing you were here with me instead. I just… I want you to be happy, but I don’t know how much longer I can go on without you.”

The anxiety he felt pooling in his stomach threatened to draw out his tears when Roman softly spoke again over the line. Lord knows, Virgil adored the tenderness in his tone and the love dripping from each syllable,

“Vita mia, anima mia, bisogna resistere...”, Virgil’s breath hitched and he was unsure if it was because he was close to an anxiety attack or because he could feel the hope building itself a home in his chest, “I’ll be home soon, vita mia, I promise.”

He wanted to believe it, but he’d heard those words before and Virgil couldn’t help the doubt his hope was wrestling with, “Before or after it starts snowing in Venice?”, he joked.

Roman chuckled, they were both grateful for the moment of levity, “Never doubt the power of my undying love for you, Giordano.”

Virgil chuckled, affectionately snarking something akin to ‘sbruffone’ as he hung up and got cosy in his armchair. It had just passed midnight, he might as well get comfy considering he wouldn’t be able to sleep now. Not with Roman invading his every thought…

-

Once Roman had returned to the taxi, he was filled with an unwavering resolve. He all but raced to his hotel room; his hands blurred in his vision as he began to pack the few things he had brought with him into his suitcase with one hand while the other held his phone. 

After the couple of times he’d pulled out the charger on accident, Roman was finally able to call his manager. Despite her protests, Roman knew they could let his understudy handle being Leo Bloom for the last couple of shows. Even if it meant it might cost him some valuable work and publicity.

Sure, being on stage was his dream, but Virgil was his life. 

“I’m coming home, vita mia...”

-

The armchair was so comfy. Virgil hoped whoever was knocking at his door was prepared for the consequences of waking him up. 

In fairness, he should have gone to bed instead of snuggling even warmer into the chair, but also in fairness there was no reason for anyone to be knocking on his door at half four in the morning. Seriously, who just does that? Virgil hoped it wasn’t some stranger in need of help; he didn’t fancy having to stomach explaining he was literally terrified of leaving his house. Perhaps it would just be Valerie next door, checking in on him, that’d be nice. That he could deal with. As long as it wasn’t the mailman. Or Mormans. 

If his fear of going outside could be rivalled by anything, it was with his hatred of people trying to intrude on his home.

Virgil’s mental ramblings stopped as his mismatched eyes caught a glimpse of a figure through the frosted glass of the door. It was hard to be certain, but the silhouette, the colours, even when distorted…

Never had the door known such force as Virgil tore open the door and came face to face with the love of his life.

“Roman…!!”

The taller man smiled like the angels Virgil was sure had carved him; his cheeks and nose were flushed rosy red, his dark hair was tousled and stuffed underneath the winter beanie atop his head. By the way he was breathing, Virgil guessed that Roman had run at least the length of the street to get here.

Despite knowing he’d regret it once the intrusive thoughts came for him, Virgil braved the two steps outside his doorway to wrap his arms around Roman, a gesture his beloved returned. Warm hands resting on Virgil’s lower back assured him that everything that was happening was real; that the Roman in his arms was real. He didn’t give a second thought to kissing his darling actor, he just did.

When they finally broke for air, Roman chuckled, sweet as honey, bathing Virgil’s face in warm breath, “Vita mia, Virgil, I’m loath to suggest we stop, but I fear you may freeze if we continue. I love you but I’d rather the love of my life not be turned into a popsicle.”

It took Virgil a second to realise what Roman meant. Not only had he rushed out in his pjs, but his clothes and skin were littered with tiny plumes of snow.

Snow. In Venice. 

When Roman pulled off a surprise, he sure did it in style.

As much as the poet could feel his anxiety over being outside - even momentarily - begin to build, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle,

“Come on then, Roman,”, Virgil huffed softly, his smile so beaming with love, Roman wondered if it was possible to be burned alive by it, “You have stories to tell me from your travels, and I have a warm armchair and some coffee to for us to share...”

----

Fluff? Straight up fluff? No angst!? It’s likelier than you think!

Seeing out the year with a happy little fic based on smth I talked about with a friend after the Christmas Concert Livestream!

All the Italian used is stuff I tried to cross reference so if anything is wrong or could be improved, please let me know!

(they’re supposed to be talking in Italian the entire fic I just wanted to add in some actual Italian like in the song)

Taglist:

@patton-cake @does-this-look-logicality-to-you @justalittlecorrupted @irritating-lady-knight @katlikethesword @gattonero17 @shadowylemon

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 11:  A Turkey Called Marv

Summary: Nat, Clint, Evans, Lawson and the rest of her SHIELD team throw Katie a leaving party once news of her resignation spreads across the Triskellion before Katie and Steve head to New York to spend their first Thanksgiving as a couple with Tony, Pepper and Bruce.

Paring: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: None for this chap, bar a bit of bad language and teeth rotting fluff

A/N: Accompanying One Shot- The Life Of Marv. 

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 10

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

November 2013

News of Katie’s spectacular resignation spread like wildfire through the Triskellion. Evans, Lawson, Natasha and Clint had all been pretty upset but had understood when she had explained why she was doing it, even if Natasha didn’t necessarily agree. They had no intention of letting her go quietly, however, and the team took it upon themselves to organise a small Leaving do at Lori’s which was in full swing. Background music was playing, food had arrived and the drinks were flowing. Steve was talking to Lawson, Rumlow and Evans by the bar, leaning against it, an easy smile on his face as Katie stood with Clint and Natasha a bit further down the bar as Clint was talking to them about his latest home improvement plan.  

“So I thought about putting in a pool.” Clint mused, “Now the kids are bigger I thought it might be nice to have one. Maybe even a pool house round it for bad weather.”

“How ambitious.” Nat quirked an eyebrow.

Clint grinned. “That’s my middle name.”

“Really?” Katie asked. “I always thought it was Robert.”

“What?” Clint looked at her as Nat snorted out a laugh.  "Francis.  Why would you think its Robert?“

Katie shrugged "You look like a Bob.”

“Wait… so it’s not Ambitious?” Nat asked, winking at Katie. “How boring.”

Katie nodded, draining her glass.  "Bob would have been better.”

"Right,” Clint started, pulling himself taller. “I hate both of you.”

The girls laughed and Nat turned to Katie. “So what’s in the pipeline for you now Nova?” “I have no idea.” Katie shrugged and she didn’t. “I guess I’ll just get more involved in the family business.”

“You gonna move to New York?” Clint asked. She shook her head. “Probably spend a bit more time there but, I’m not moving back.”

“Nah, she can’t leave lover boy.” Natasha looked at Clint and Katie rolled her eyes. Truth is Nat had hit the nail on the head. No way was she leaving Steve in DC to move back to the tower. Although they had only been together seven months she had spent over a year of her life being ‘with him’ one way or another and the thought of him not being there terrified her.

“You know, to be fair Nat, they’ve been going out a while now. Things are probably starting to cool off.” Clint teased “Oh trust me, there’s no problems in that department.” Katie sniggered, looking over to where Steve was stood.

“And would you look at that. I’m out of alcohol…” Nat said, suddenly “And so is Stark.”

“There’s a bar over there,” Clint pointed

“Cheers…”Natasha took Katie’s glass and handed it to him along with her own. Clint shook his head taking the glasses with a sigh.

“So… now he’s gone…” Nat glanced over at Steve then back to Katie “Gimme details…”

“Details on what?”

“Throw me a bone here Stark. I’m working on a dry spell.”

“Why are you so obsessed with my sex life?” Katie groaned. “You’re constantly trying to get me to talk about it.”

“Hey, look, up until a few months ago I was convinced he was a virgin.”

“Well then you’re a dumbass.” Katie smirked “Like I said, he’s Captain America, had girls throwing themselves at him back in the day.” “So he was until the serum?”

“I never said that.” Katie flushed.

“You’re such a shit liar.”

“Can we change the subject?”

“Ok, answer me one question and then I’ll drop it.” Nat pressed.

“What?” Katie snapped with an air of playful frustration. If she was honest, it was quite nice to have a girlfriend to chat to about these kind of secrets.

“Did the serum enhance…everything?” Nat wiggled her eyebrows.

Katie glanced over at Steve and smirked before she looked back at her. Fuck it.

“Well if it didn’t, I’ve no idea how he managed to stay upright before.” she smirked "I’m a lucky woman”

The red head threw back her head in a dirty laugh, a laugh that Katie had never heard from her before and it made her snigger at the sight of the normally composed assassin letting loose.

“What I miss?” Clint asked as he reappeared, handing them their drinks.

“I’ll explain when you’re older…” Nat said, patting his chest fondly.

*****

The next two weeks flashed by and before they knew it, it was the morning before thanksgiving and they were at the Tower in New York. Last year Katie and Steve had spent Thanksgiving as friends. This year they were spending it as lovers, and Katie was also excited to be spending it with Tony, although she would never admit that out loud.

Steve was also looking forward to it as well. Tony had mellowed to him somewhat over the past few months, especially when he had found out Steve was supporting Katie’s decision to quit SHIELD and not trying to stop her as he had original thought the Captain would. He was also looking forward to Katie’s damned fine cooking as well. Despite the fact that Tony had offered to cater in as Pepper was away until the very last minute, his girl had insisted on cooking it herself, especially now she had plenty of time on her hands.  

As such, Steve and Tony had left her in the kitchen area of the main living quarters at midday to head down to the lab to discuss some further upgrades to the Tower. When they left Katie had been surrounded by bags of flour and ingredients, and when Steve returned he found her at just gone 5:30 surrounded by 3 pies (one apple, one pumpkin and one blackberry) pans of vegetables prepped ready for the and a turkey in the oven ready for JARVIS to turn on in the morning. She was stood at the sink, gently humming, the kitchen now clean and the smell of her baking making his mouth water.

“What are you doing Soldier?” Katie asked, jumping a little as Steve’s arms came around her sides, reaching for the sink, effectively trapping her between the counter and his body.

He laid his chin on her shoulder. “The dishes,”

“I’m only leaving the pie dish to soak.” She informed him, turning her head to give him a quick kiss. “The rest are going in the Dishwasher.”

“Oh because God forbid her majesty would actually wash a dish.” He teased and she rolled her eyes.

“You don’t wash them much either. How many brushes did you break last week?”

“The plastic is bad quality.” Steve pouted.

“Nothing to do with your ridiculously large hands being too rough.” “You weren’t complaining last night.” He grinned, lips warm against her neck as he gently nipped under her ear. Katie squirmed a little and then swatted him in the face with the dishtowel, and he laughed out loud.

“Seriously though Doll face, are you nearly done? You’ve been in here all afternoon. You do know we’re not eating till 3 tomorrow, right?” His hands squeezed her hips and she tossed the dishcloth down and turned to face him, her hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders.

“Yeah but the more I do now, the less I have to do tomorrow, and let’s face it, it’s not like I have anything else to do, on account of being an unemployed bum.” She shrugged making Steve laugh again.  “Plus, I just want everything to be, you know…right.” she shrugged, and she did.

“It’s a dinner.”

“It’s Thanksgiving” She corrected him.

“Yeah, and last years was pretty cool, remember?”

“Yeah but…” she trailed off, biting her lip. Steve knew that look well enough now to know there was more to this.

“What?” He probed gently.

“Nothing, just, well I never had a boyfriend over for Thanksgiving before. Or Christmas come to think of it.”

Steve smiled “I like being your first…” Katie grinned. The whole ‘I like being your first’ thing had started off by her saying it to Steve but they’d fast come to realise that they actually both had a world of inexperience between them when it came to relationships, and it was nice that they could be each other’s firsts in a lot of ways.  “Honey, tomorrow is gonna be great.” He assured, tipping her face up to look at his “Don’t sweat it.”

“Did you seriously just say don’t sweat it?” she sniggered.

Steve groaned “I told you I spent the afternoon with your brother…”

She giggled and leaned up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“Getting kinda tired of catching you two making out in a kitchen!” Tony chose that time to waltz in and open the fridge door, pointing to them as he did so. “You got your own floor, piss off and go use it.” ******

Katie woke the next morning to find Steve’s side of the bed empty and cold. It wasn’t unusual for him to be up earlier than her, she knew he would either be out running, in the gym or making coffee. She climbed out of bed and walked to the blinds of the bedroom, instructing JARVIS to open them, the AI being one of the many perks about being 'home’. The New York skyline stretched below her and as she glanced down she saw the people gathered on the sidewalks, attention turned to the streets, obviously waiting for the Thanksgiving Parade. She had asked Steve if he wanted to go and watch it in person but he had said he would prefer to stay in and watch from the tower as he didn’t fancy getting mobbed in the street. Being recognised by one person every so often was fine but in those crowds if one person spotted him then it would spread like wildfire. Besides, as he had pointed out, her floor had an awesome view so they could watch out of the window with a drink. Katie frowned as suddenly a large brown turkey shaped balloon floated in front of her eyes. The parade wasn’t supposed to start until nine and that meant by the time it made its way to the Avengers tower it would be… she turned and glanced at the click and gave a yelp. She had slept in until Ten. 

Steve heard her before he saw her, not that he needed super hearing to hear the loud yell of "how fucking late?” coming from the bedroom. Grinning to himself he turned back to the griddle on the island of the kitchen, flipping a pancake with one hand and drinking a coffee with the other. “Why didn’t you wake me?” Katie grumbled to him as she leaned in the kitchen doorway, taking him in for a moment. He was freshly showered, dressed in a loose grey t-shirt and sweats, hair still a bit damp and spiked up in a way that made her smile. “Because you were up early yesterday and I thought I’d make you breakfast for a change.” He shrugged as she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into the back of his shoulder. The smell of his shower gel mixed with the smell of the pancake mix, made her nuzzle her nose into him to inhale deeply. “You smell good.” She eventually spoke again. “Good to know.” A grin tugged at the corners of his lips at the fact she was still clinging to him. “I just saw a giant inflatable Turkey.” Her hands dropped and slid under his T-shirt, gently rubbing at his stomach. “What?” Steve paused. “The parade”

Steve smiled. “You know when I was a kid, the parade was the best part of Thanksgiving.” “Yeah?” she mumbled, her cheek still pressed to his shoulder.

“Yeah. Me and Bucky used to come into Manhattan with his family and my ma if she wasn’t working and stuff ourselves on popcorn and warm mixed nuts” He smiled to himself at the memory. They always picked out their favourite balloons, ate until they thought they would burst, and made Rebecca, Bucky’s younger sister laugh till she cried by pretending they were in the marching bands. But once the war started, the parade had ended. He had never realized that they started it up again until Tony and Katie had mentioned it last night as they had sat eating takeout. Part of him had wanted to go to the street to watch it but after seeing that morning how crowded it had been on his run he was happy to watch it from the comfort of Katie’s floor. He turned to face her for first time that day, her arms still round his waist. Her hair was pulled up into a pony tail, face fresh, eyes bright and she was, as ever, in one of his shirts and not a lot else. He leaned forward to give her a quick kiss and when he moved away, she quickly closed the space to give him another, letting her lips linger on his for a second. “I’ll burn the pancakes.” He murmured and she grinned, pulling away. “I’ll make fresh coffee.” She pat his chest and turned to the machine. “Hey JAR…Hit me with some Christmas tunes, buddy” “The usual Miss Stark?” “As long as it has the Pogues on…” “Wouldn’t dream of not doing” the AI replied and then the apartment was flooded with the sounds of ‘Fairy Tale of New York.’ “It’s November.” Steve turned to look at her, but she simply grinned to herself and turned around, singing to him. He couldn’t help but laugh, he knew from last year that Christmas for her started at Thanksgiving and ended on New Year’s Day. Plus the fact that the previous year she had spent Christmas day fighting a bunch of exploding super soldiers meant that she was going to enjoy this year as much as possible. He shook his head, a low chuckle escaping before he turned back to his pancakes. They dragged the cushions off the couch and ate breakfast sat by the huge floor to ceiling windows of the penthouse, Katie sat between Steve’s legs as they both watched the parade. Suddenly, a large green balloon floated by the window and Katie gave a loud squeal when she saw what it was. A Hulk float. An amused smile spread across her lips as she watched the balloon bob in front of the window, twisting to the sides in the air as it wrestled with the wind. “Oh my God!” Katie giggled again, gently tapping Steve’s right calf but he had already spotted it. A massive shield was coming out, followed by Iron Man’s mask, Thor’s hammer, a bow and arrow, Natasha’s Red Widow symbol and her own Nova star. She turned to look at him, a little smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth and when he met her eyes the smile broke out across his features. Laughing in disbelief, he shook his head, turning his attention back look at the shield float bounce down the street. “That’s pretty cool.” He allowed himself a slightly smug and amazed sigh, and it was. If anyone had told him all those years ago that one day he would feature in the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade he would have told them that they were mad. Yet there it was. He found himself smiling as he thought about how his ma and Bucky would have reacted. When they had finished eating, Katie leaned back into him a little more, slouching so that her knees were bent and her feet rested on the bottom of the window. His arms reached round her neck, and he kissed the back of her head as they continued to watch the floats, the gentle sound of Bing Crosby “White Christmas” now playing through the room, the two of them simply enjoying the closeness of one another. ***** Eventually it was time to head downstairs and join Tony, Bruce and Pepper for their dinner. Katie and Pepper left the men to it and finished off the prep before calling them all to the table. As was tradition, as ‘head of the house’ Tony carved the turkey with his usual, trademark drama and they took it in turns to give a few things they were thankful for. Tony was thankful for his friends, family and a decent brand of scotch he had in the cupboard for later, Pepper was thankful for being so fortunate and being surrounded by people she loved, Bruce was thankful for being welcomed into their family home, not just for today but since he had taken up residency just after the Chitauri Battle, and Katie was thankful for being in the presence of people she cared for, and for the last year being so much better than the previous twelve months. She shot a wink at Steve as she said that and he beamed before he realised they were waiting for him.

 "Okay, well…” He cleared his throat. “I guess I’m thankful for being given a second chance, being welcomed by you all…and for, err, you.” He grinned at Katie who gave him a playful roll of the eyes but the flush on her cheeks told him she had understood.

“Awww.” Pepper smiled, as Tony made a gagging noise which resulted in Katie throwing a carrot at him. He pointed at her, frowning.

“No food fights on my floor, Kiddo.” He said sternly and she simply raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of her wine.

The food was good, not that anyone expected anything else. Both Tony and Banner managed two servings whilst Steve made it through three. And then there was the pie. Steve scoffed down a piece of each, whilst everyone else could only face one, but no one cared. And he found himself secretly pleased that there was enough left for him to scoff later on.

“I’m so glad I wore leggings.” Pepper sighted, leaning back and massaging her stomach.  

“Tell me about it.” Katie moaned. “I’m so glad this denims have an elasticated waist.” She pulled at the middle of her long maroon peplum style top. “Think I’m having a food baby.”

“Yeah, I gotta hand it to you Kiddo…” Tony leaned back in his chair, undoing the top button of his pants and massaging his stomach “That was absolutely awesome.“

Steve’s hand dropped to his girl’s leg under the table and he gave her knee a little squeeze as she reached for her wine glass, before he moving his arm to drop it round the back of her chair. "I certainly prefer the Turkey dead and cooked anyway” Tony added and Katie groaned. “Are you ever gonna let me live that down?” She looked at him. “No” he shook his head. “What’s this?” Steve asked, setting his glass down. “Did she not tell you about the time she brought home a live Turkey one year? Katie sighed as Steve sat up, turning to her, smirking "No…” “I was seventeen and going through a meat is murder phase.” She waved away the comment with her hands. “I was in the way home and saw him. He was the only one left in the farmyard so I liberated him” “By liberated she means stole.” Tony quipped, standing up to retrieve two more bottled of Rijoca from the wet bar as laughs rang round the table. “No one came looking for him.” She shrugged. “Marv lived a happy life for five years in our back garden” “Marv?” Bruce looked at her, a smile creeping across his face. “After the character from Home Alone.” She replied simply

“You had a turkey called Marv?” The scientist deadpanned and she nodded.

“He was a great pet. Used to chase Tony around” “The bird was a fucking menace.” Tony frowned, topping everyone’s glass up. Settling back into his chair, Katie noticed Pepper giving him a look and he started suddenly as if he was remembering something. He leaned forward and looked at Katie. "So I know we don’t do Thanksgiving gifts kiddo but I was thinking yesterday about something you said to me once, about having a vision for a publishing company.”

Katie stole a look at Steve who simply shrugged. It was true, when she had first graduated she had thought about setting up a publishing company, but one that dealt with unknown writers. Her favourite books in the world were the Harry Potter series and during her degree she had been lucky enough to attend a small seminar held by JK Rowling, who had openly discussed her life before becoming a famous author. She had been a single mother, struggling to make ends meet, and even after she had written the books it took her years to get a deal, being rejected by four different publishers before Bloomsbury (a small, independent group) took a chance on her and it paid off for both of them. Katie loved the rags to riches story and since then had always harboured a desire to do the same thing for other authors but it had never really been much more than a pipe dream.

“It was an idea I once had.” She shrugged, looking at Tony. “Then things went a bit crazy.” “Well… how about we make it a bit more than an idea?” Pepper said. “What?” Katie frowned, looking at Pepper, then he brother who nodded. “I want you to put a proper proposal together, business plan, mood and story board that type of thing.” He said, waving his hand in that Tony-esque manner “Then we’re gonna look at what we need to set it up and take it to the board. Run it as a Ltd company under the Parent company of Stark Industries, but you’ll be the Managing Director.” “I…, I can’t run a business!” She stammered. “Didn’t you run the UK branch of SI for a while?” Bruce looked at her, smiling. “That was different.” She pressed. “Why?” Steve asked. “Shut up Steven.” She shot without even looking at him.

There were a few chuckles round the table before Tony continued. “Look, you don’t need to work.” He shrugged. “You have enough capitol behind you plus the revenue from the business as it to live your life out as an IT girl,  but we both know you’ll end up killing someone if you get bored, and that’s likely to be Cap seeing as you see him most so this is for him as much as you.” “Thanks Tony.” Steve tipped his glass to the Inventor who winked. Katie pondered. It really had been a dream of hers since leaving Uni, putting her degree and passion into her work and she would be lying if she said the thought didn’t excite her but it was a hell of a big commitment, and what if it all failed?

“I’ll help you.” Pepper smiled at Katie who was biting her lip. "I’ll proof read the proposal and I’ll be there every step of the way whilst you set up.” She leaned back in her chair. "The week before Christmas there’s another board meeting. I suggest we use that to pitch the idea.” 

“I think this could be a great opportunity for you and Stark Industries.” Tony looked at Katie. “And you’ll get full autonomy over it all, I promise.” This was amazing. She looked at Steve who nodded encouragingly. “What is it you keep saying to me? You’ll never know until you try?” he smiled at her. She took a deep breath and looked around the table before throwing caution to the wind and letting out a huge grin. “Ok. Fuck it. Let’s do it.” **** After another half an hour or so of chatter, and a bottle of champagne to celebrate Katie’s agreement to the business idea, everyone chipped in to clear the table before retiring to the plush living area of Tony and Pepper’s floor for more drinks and chat. Then the alcohol really did began to flow, Steve and Tony moving onto the scotch,  the soldier watching as everyone around him descended into that well recognised drunken haze. And then out came ‘Drawing Without Dignity’, a game Steve had never played before which was really rather vulgar, but he couldn’t help but enjoy it. The game fast slid into chaos which was to be expected with an extremely competitive Super Soldier who had a natural advantage as he could actually draw, an equally competitive billionaire and a normally mild mannered scientist who also was quite cutthroat when it came to winning it turned out.

Pepper and Katie spent most of the time sniggering at the bickering men, and at the point when they were laughing that much when it was their go, the three boys got so frustrated they banned them from playing. For that, the next time Steve asked Katie what one of the more risqué sayings meant (he had cringed at a fair few of them over the course of the evening) she lied to sabotage him earning her a full on Captain glare. “That was a pretty shitty thing to do.” He grumbled at her as Tony and Bruce were both howling with laughter. “Not my fault Captain Badass doesn’t know what Rimming is!” Katie shot back, wiping away her tears. Steve had to bite back his own laugh at the ridiculous nickname, instead he fixed her with another glare which she returned with a simple shrug of her shoulders. The game ended, and Steve and Tony called it a draw, which was probably the easiest thing to do since Pepper had stopped taking count and tallying towards the end. It was now well after ten pm and Steve looked around the room as Tony stood up, a little unsteady on his feet, teetering back over to the bar.

“I think maybe we’ve had enough.” Pepper hiccupped slightly looked at Tony who had been reaching for another bottle of liquor, wheeled round slightly too fast causing him to stumble into the bar.

Katie cackled as Tony looked at Pepper “Shut up Mom.” he grabbed another bottle of scotch in one hand and the open bottle of Krug the girls were drinking in the other. He walked carefully over towards the sofa, as he dropped down into it heavily, handing the champagne to Katie who was on the floor in between Steve’s legs, her back resting against the sofa. She took it and poured herself and Pepper a glass, quite pleased that she didn’t spill any.

“You know he…he can’t get drunk!”  Tony handed Bruce a now full glass, pointing to Steve.

“That’s sad.” Bruce surmised, taking a sip of his drink before Tony sat bolt upright, and pointed at the scientist.

“Hey, I wonder if Hulk can get drunk?”

“That’s an…that’s an…ex…exper-expediment I don’t think we should do.” Bruce shook his head, hiccups punctuating his speech.

“Absolutely not.” Steve shook his head as Katie cackled.

“But it would be for science purposes.” Tony pressed

Bruce wrinkled his nose and shook his head “No Code Green.” “Spoil sport.” Tony sniffed

They stayed for another hour or so, until Pepper fell asleep. Katie’s cheeks were flushed pink and when she asked for a bottle of water Steve knew it was time to go. After asking Tony if he needed help clearing anything up, which he declined stating housekeeping would be in at some point tomorrow to deal with it, Steve stood up, surprised to find he actually felt a little bit of a head-rush. Ok, so maybe the three bottles of scotch they’d managed to go through had had a little effect after all, but he felt the fizziness ebbing away as he pulled Katie to her feet and she grinned up at him.

“Wanna carry me Soldier?” she asked.

He arched an eyebrow and in one swoop had her over his shoulder, causing her to shriek with laughter as she clutched at his navy blue cardigan jacket.

“Night!” She waved from her upside down position. Tony and Bruce waved distractedly from where they were now trying to mix some form of cocktail at the bar.

“You can put me down now.” Katie patted Steve on his back as they boarded the elevator. “Steve…”

He smirked to himself, ignoring her giggles and protests, swatting lightly at her ass, and didn’t put her down until they reached  the bedroom where he tossed her onto the bed and set about showing her exactly how thankful for her he was

******* If you want to read more about Marv the Turkey, check out the One shot: The Life Of Marv. As with all SSB One Shots, they don’t need to be read to understand the main story...consider them tasty little side dishes.

********

Chapter 12 Part 1

**Original Posting**

[johaerys-writes]

Dorian Pavus/Trevelyan

A World With You, Chapter 37: A Trevelyan’s Word

Tristan and Dorian spend some much needed quiet time together. Some fluff, a tiiiiny bit of angst (blink and you’ll miss it), and some important conversations.

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

Libraries had always been one of Dorian’s favourite places to be, ever since he could remember himself.

After having lived in so many different Circles, and having worked and studied in many more, gravitating towards the nearest library wherever he happened to be was something like second nature to him. He remembered the layout of every one he’d visited in startling detail: the neat rows of bookcases of the Carastes Circle; the circular library tower of the Circle of Trevis, with its tinted glass windows that had been specifically designed to protect the priceless tomes from the scorching sun and the dust; the vast Library of Minrathous, where one could easily lose themselves in unless they had a chart, a compass, a detailed floor plan and perhaps said a prayer or two. Regardless of the size, layout or method of archiving, finding what he was looking for had always been a swift matter, each library’s secrets revealing themselves to him readily after one brief sweep of the many rooms and shelves.

Never once had he encountered a library as reticent as the one in Skyhold.

After several months there, he still could not figure out the organisational system that the books had once been stored in. He’d assumed it was because of all the different kinds of people that had once resided there, but even in the oldest and most dilapidated libraries he had visited there was some method to the madness. In Skyhold, however, there was just madness.

Books on Pyromancy, which he had personally moved to the top floor - where they belonged, alongside the treatises on Primal magic- would magically appear on the lower floor shelves, alongside the tomes on Entropy magic. The scrolls of ancient Tevinter glyphs and spells, which he had found after sorting through the multitude of Chantry books that seemed to be practically sprouting out of the soil in that place, and that he had painstakingly cleaned from dust and arranged in alphabetical order in the booth next to his own, had now disappeared into thin air. The apprentice archivists, when he’d asked them, had simply stared at him with the sparkling gazes of well-fed heifers. One of them had had the audacity to look him straight in the eye and unironically say:

“If it’s Spirit glyphs you’re interested in, why don’t you read Former Second Enchanter Muriel’s research? Those scrolls you're looking for are outdated, anyway.”

Outdated? Outdated! The very notion had had Dorian grinding his teeth. As if seeing Former Second Enchanter Muriel’s sour visage every day, and listening to her endless tirades about Tevinter and anything else that displeased her wasn’t enough. He wouldn’t touch that tiresome crone’s research with a ten foot pole— no, make it twenty feet. One could never be too safe.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he shoved the book on Alchemy he’d found lying forgotten by the side of the wrong bookcase back in its proper shelf. If he’d known the level of ignorance and buffoonery he would be met with in the South, he would have seriously reconsidered ever leaving Minrathous. Oh, certainly, his homeland was a nest of vipers, but at least Tevinters knew how to organise a dratted library.

Now, if only he could find who in the Maker’s dratted name had gone through his dratted scrolls—

A glance at the research table across the rotunda promptly answered his question.

“Helisma,” he grumbled through clenched teeth as he stomped towards her. Priceless scrolls and documents were gathered willy-nilly in her arms, as well as the arms of the two apprentices that trailed her. The Tranquil looked up at him calmly when he barred her way.

“May I ask what on earth you have been doing with all the scrolls? You are the one who snatched them away, and don’t you even try to deny it.”

“I moved them to the underground storage rooms.”

That she could deliver those lines without an ounce of emotion was entirely bewildering, despite the fact that she was, indeed, a Tranquil. He forced his lips into a tight, sarcastic smile. “Why would you do that, pray tell? What have the poor things done to offend you so? Surely whatever it was could have been resolved over some tea and crumpets, instead of banishment to the nearest dungeon.”

She simply blinked at him, her tone completely flat as she informed him, “The upper levels of the library are reserved for leather bound tomes and codexes. The underground storage rooms are where scrolls, manuscripts and loose documents should be kept.”

“Helisma, my dear,” Dorian uttered tightly, trying his best not to lose his composure and start yelling in the middle of the library where everybody and their aunts could hear, “we have been over this. There is no reason for the scrolls to be there. They are needed here, where they can be used. The storage rooms are as damp as it gets, certainly you must be able to see that keeping ancient and fragile scrolls there is not the wisest course of action?”

“The humidity in the storage rooms is less than forty percent. That is lower than the Circle of Amaranthine’s storage rooms by five point two degrees.”

“And you’re saying it as if it’s a good thing? If the humidity in the Minrathous library was half as high, the master archivist would be having an apoplexy!” Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep breath. There clearly wasn’t any way of making sense of this, and he would sooner teach a mule to dance than talk Helisma out of her ways. “Very well. Have it your way. I’ll see what I’ll be able to salvage from this mess.” He sniffed and tossed his head back in defiance as he turned around and stomped back the way he’d come, leaving a blank-eyed Helisma behind.

The chill in the lower vaults was unmistakable, cutting through his many layers of clothing and piercing him right to the bone. Dorian resisted the urge to frown as he gathered his cloak around his shoulders. Any more of that, and he would getting wrinkles before his time, and he had enough as it was. Ever since coming to the South, he had noticed a few more around his eyes that he was sure had not been there a few months before. If this went on any longer, he would be looking like a shrivelled up prune by the time this entire Inquisition business was done.

The stray thought made him stop short, there, in the half dark and quiet of the vaults. Part of him wasn’t sure if he wished the Inquisition business to be done, he realised. Of course, he wanted Corypheus and his Venatori to be defeated, more than anyone. If this were done, the world would have a chance to recover, and with it his country’s reputation. Still… the thought of the future brought with it a certain amount of trepidation. Trevelyan would ultimately be the one to face all those dangers, and no one knew how he would be affected. His life was on the line, day after day, and Dorian more than anyone could see how it was stretching him thin. Even if everything went according to plan though, even if they both survived this ordeal, no one knew what the future held for the two of them. For the time being, they were bound by this common cause. Beyond this… only time could tell.

The worry and unease that he so often tried to brush away slithered to the surface. Dorian took a deep breath to quell it. There was no point thinking of the future, when everything about the present was so uncertain. Trevelyan was alive and well now, as much as he could be, and that was all that mattered.

Brushing the thoughts aside, Dorian turned right as soon as he’d reached the storage room he was looking for. It was the farthest down the corridor, with only a lone torch burning.

Torches. Amidst all this paper. The horror.

The sounds beyond the door of the storage room quickly revealed that there was someone else there, shifting through the many scrolls and documents in the cramped space. At least she had the sense to conjure a small ball of light, which was now hovering above her as she searched, its halo glossing her cropped black hair. She gave a small start when she heard him entering, her large blue eye widening.

“Lord Pavus,” Grand Enchanter Fiona breathed, pressing her palm to her chest. Or was it just Fiona, now? “You frightened me.”

“My apologies,” he said. He clasped his hands behind his back and glanced at the scrolls she had been shifting through. “I see I wasn’t the only one who has found the scrolls Helisma has banished down here useful.”

“Ah, yes. She does have some strong opinions about where everything should be stored. I’m not entirely certain I agree.”

She gave Dorian the barest hints of a smile. Their interactions had always been kept serious and professional, both of them taking care not to linger in each other’s presence too long, despite them practically sharing the same workspace. At first, it was because Dorian wasn’t quite sure what to make of her, and he had the suspicion that his presence made her just as uneasy. However, he had soon found out that she didn’t particularly invite any interaction beyond the typical. The former Grand Enchanter and Grey Warden had kept a low profile ever since joining the Inquisition, more so after they had taken permanent residence in Skyhold, and Dorian didn’t blame her for that. There had been enough talk about her, even without her stirring any sort of trouble or gossip.

Even so, the fact that the former leader of the mage rebellion, who had —unknowingly, allegedly— struck a deal with the Venatori and had been banished from Ferelden because of it, could go by largely unnoticed at all was an impressive feat. Still, she managed to do just that. Most days.

“Is there something in particular you’re looking for? Can I be of any help?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. You’re much better versed with those scrolls than I assume I am.” A compliment? That was promising. “I’m searching for Magister Domitius’ research on reanimated undead. I do remember seeing a copy a while ago, in loose papers, but it disappeared before I had time to properly bind it. Have you perhaps seen it?”

Dorian narrowed his eyes in thought as he looked around the stacks. It didn’t take long for him to spot a few sheets of paper hastily rolled and bound with a leather cord. “That seems to be it,” he said as he dragged it out carefully and handed it to her. Fiona inclined her head in gratitude, unwrapping the document with slow, careful motions.

“Thank you. That was most helpful.”

“Anytime.” Dorian took a step back, giving the mage some time and space to inspect the discovery. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly as she read, her lips pursing in thought. She was short in stature, and could easily be overlooked if she wished it to be so. Yet there was something about her, a commanding presence and a stubborn streak that was hard to define, and to hide.

“I studied this one many years ago," he mused, crossing his arms before his chest. "It’s a rather interesting treatise, although some of the glyphs for releasing the spells that bind the undead are quite crude.”

“Crude, but effective. That is just what is needed right now. I hear the undead have claimed many lives all over Thedas, and will likely claim many more.”

“So grim, so early in the day? Grand Enchanter, I expected more from you.”

The elf glanced up at him, her lips quirked in amusement. “Former Grand Enchanter, if you please. Or you can just call me Fiona, as everyone else does these days.” The smile faded away as she looked down at the scroll once more. “One does learn to be grim after seeing as many deaths as I have. It is a hard thing to shake off.”

The silence that followed between them was somewhat awkward, with her carefully studying the writing on the yellowed and musty pages. Still, if there was something Dorian was good at, that was filling the silence. “So how come you’re studying the undead? I wasn’t aware that necromancy was your field of study.”

“It is not. The Inquisitor reported a large number of demons and undead in Crestwood, and some of the Inquisition mages were assigned with coming up with strategies to defend the villages until the Inquisitor is able to close the rift. I have experience battling the creatures, so I volunteered to investigate the matter further and to train the new recruits.”

Dorian’s stomach tightened ever so slightly. There were so many issues that demanded Trevelyan’s attention, he often wondered how the man found time to eat or sleep. He certainly seemed to be doing much less of both these days. That he found time to spend with Dorian at all when they were in Skyhold was a marvel in and of itself. Even before leaving for Crestwood, before the ordeal they’d both been through with the demon, he'd seemed so gaunt and pale, wrung out. The Inquisition was stretching him thin. Dorian wondered if ever the time would come that it would break him.

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow past the knot in his throat. He wouldn’t let it come to this, not if he could help it. He would stand by him, help him as much as he could. That was what a partner did, after all, wasn’t it?

“It is very noble of you, to offer to help with the matter,” he told her, in an effort to distract himself from his thoughts.

“Not at all. It is the least I can do to aid the Inquisition’s efforts.” She let out a soft sigh as she rolled the scroll back up carefully. “The way things ended in Redcliffe, the Inquisitor could have demanded anything he wished. Instead, he offered us a full alliance, and our dignities back. That is not something I am about to forget.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose he could have ordered you to become the Inquisition court jesters, as I hear the Orlesians seem to be doing with their mages.”

Fiona stared at him for a brief moment, until she realised he was jesting. She let out a chuckle then, shaking her head lightly. “I am glad he did not.”

Dorian joined her in laughter, the awkwardness between them dissipating somewhat. Affection and a strange sort of pride blossomed within him when he remembered Trevelyan in the hall of Redcliffe castle, only the bearer of the mark back then, with no real authority to his name, standing tall and proud before the King of Ferelden himself and declaring the mages equal partners of the Inquisition. Everyone had thought him mad, Dorian included. Looking back, perhaps it was around then that Dorian had fallen in love with him in earnest. A fool he certainly was, but a brave, beautiful, extraordinary fool at that.

“He has been known to make some interesting choices,” Dorian said, not quite able to hide the tenderness in his voice. “Some of them correct.”

“I dare hope it’s more than some.” She glanced up at him, and the pale light of her spell danced in her eyes. “The world has taken much from all of us, I suspect most of all from him. Still, I have faith that if anyone can see us through it all, it’s him. Not many would have done what he did. To declare an alliance with the mages, to shun the Chantry, to forge a new path, a new way of doing things... that takes courage. Or madness.”

“He has a fair bit of both.”

She huffed a quiet laugh. “He is… an odd character. His ideas are odder still. Quite unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” She tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, and Dorian thought he saw something in her eyes, something akin to sadness, even more akin to sympathy as she regarded him. “I suppose it’s the same for you, yes?”

Dorian straightened, preparing himself to deflect the comment, to deny it, but something stopped him. He let out a soft breath instead, gazing at her levelly. “Yes. I suppose it is.”

A brief silence stretched between them. Fiona smiled fleetingly before looking down at the scrolls in her hands once more. “Thank you for your help in finding these. It is much appreciated.”

Dorian stepped to the side to let her pass. She left, her footsteps barely making a sound.

He let out a sigh into the quiet of the small storage room. Fiona’s words about Trevelyan had been kind, almost fond, and certainly much nicer than what many others he’d heard, yet even she couldn’t hide the depth of her expectations, her hopes. Dorian didn’t envy Trevelyan the power of his position much. The world expected so much of him, sometimes it did feel like it was perched upon his shoulders.

The scrolls stared at him sullenly from their shelves. Dorian pushed his shirtsleeves up and summoned a bright ball of light above his head. There was plenty of work for him to do. If everyone was doing their part to help the Inquisition, Dorian would do twice— no, three times as much.

When he lifted his head from his desk and looked out the window of the small nook in the library he called his office, it was already dark.

Dorian frowned back down at his own notes, sprawled before him messily like a blanket of autumn leaves freshly fallen from the bough. He had been poring over them for the better part of the day, after finding the scrolls he had been looking for. He was sure the copies he had made from the Venatori ritual in the Emerald Grave were correct, but they made no sense. Surely whoever had come up with those glyphs knew what they were doing, to some extent, but Dorian just couldn’t make out what they were trying to do exactly. The ritual itself was eerily similar to the one he had remembered finding years ago in the Minrathous library, but there were some fundamental differences. The Venatori had tried to control the power of the spell by tweaking central parts of the glyphs, but those they’d used for the binding clashed with the glyph right across from them, which was a bastardised version of a well-known affliction hex to weaken the subject’s mental defences. No wonder the poor people the Venatori had used the ritual on were turned to drooling, unresponsive vegetables; their mind was turned to jelly long before the actual mind-control spell was cast.

And it would be quite fortunate if that was the only problem he’d encountered. Trying to figure out the logic behind it was giving him headaches. There was something here, something that eluded him, Dorian was sure of it. That certainty only made him more intent on finding exactly how the ritual worked, and for that he needed resources that were not available to him at present. Tilani’s answer to the letter he had sent her regarding the original scroll was yet to arrive. It probably hadn’t even reached her yet.

Dorian suppressed the urge to curse the South and their terrible postal system, and reached for one of the dusty tomes he had managed to find in a forgotten part of the library instead. There was a glyph amongst those he had managed to copy that reminded suspiciously of Disthenes’ version of a glyph of paralysis. Now this, this he could work with. He had studied the Tevinter’s work extensively while he’d been holed up in the Circle of Marothius, and his memory was still fresh. If he used Disthenes’ theorems and altered the glyphs enough to make them work, in combination with Enchanter Hallesis’ equations in order to fix those horrible spirit-manipulating spells he’d seen the Venatori using...

Dorian let out a soft sigh. He probably should leave the matter alone, he knew that. There was little chance of figuring out how the ritual worked, or rather, didn’t work, without the original scroll he had asked Tilani to find. Yet, he’d already been working on this too long to let it go like this. If he was able to make some modicum of progress on his own, or better yet, find a way to work out some of the kink and errors in the glyphs he’d copied from the ritual, then he might be able to find a way to reverse it as well. The Inquisition needed knowledge like this, if they happened to chance upon a Venatori ritual like that again. Knowing what weapons and spells the Venatori had in their arsenal was half the battle, wasn’t it?

He half jolted out of his seat when he felt warm lips brushing the shell of his ear, a hand skimming his waist. “Four hundred and twenty two.”

Dorian leaned back in his chair, smiling at the sound of Trevelyan’s voice. How that man could walk up to him without making a sound, he could never understand. “Four hundred and twenty two, what?”

“Minutes. I’ve been counting.” He leaned forward, catching Dorian’s lips in a gentle kiss. The library was empty at that hour— Dorian thanked the Maker for that. He sighed as he turned around in his chair, his hand finding its way to the back of Trevelyan’s neck to deepen their kiss. He tasted of spiced, honeyed wine, with a mild undertone of the sweet and tart dried apples he always kept on him.

“Have you, now?” he murmured teasingly.

“Yes. I told you I would, didn’t I?” Trevelyan’s smile widened. “My word is my bond.”

A flush crept up Dorian’s cheeks with the warmth in Trevelyan’s gaze. He was peering at him with so much tenderness, and with their proximity Dorian could smell the warmth of his body, the faint smell of his soap. He realised then, that although they’d only been apart since that morning, he had missed him. And the fact that Trevelyan had come straight to him after finishing with his duties, with the black ink from signing his reports still staining his fingers, made him feel warmer still. He suddenly couldn’t wait to be alone with him again, to touch and kiss him freely without worrying about who was to see, to avail himself of the body that hid beneath that snugly fitting dark blue coat.

With his heart beating with a strange sort of giddiness, Dorian turned around and gathered his papers, placed them in the drawer of his desk and locked it securely. “So,” he said, standing up, “shall we retire to your quarters? I’d rather not spend another minute here, thank you very much.”

Trevelyan took his hand, threading his fingers through his. “There’s something I want us to do first.”

Read the rest on AO3!

[13atoms]

An Artifice in Silver - Part Two

A/N - Part 1 was the angsty part of the challenge, written by @wonders-of-the-multiverse, so read that first!! It’s amazing!

Here’s my attempt to make the ending to this fic fluffy.

WARNINGS - Some death and Cyberman conversion are mentioned.

PAIRINGS: Dhawan!Master x Reader

WORD COUNT: 10,323 words

Part One | Part Two

Part Two: A Trap

It felt your though your head had only just collided with the ground when you were shaken awake. Your body been moved, swept awkwardly aside as you slept, clearing a path to the rest of the collapsed crowd from the door. Your head and limbs ached from the hard concrete of the ground, the air no longer green with smoke as you squinted to try and make out the people in the rest of the chamber.

All still human.

A few of them were moving, while others were out cold. You could only hope those nearer the epicentre of the gas being released were simply unconscious, their ragdoll bodies making you wince as they were shaken, loved ones and strangers alike desperately trying to wake them from their unnatural sleep. You could see the horror on the survivors’ faces as they picked over the group, struggling to regain movement in their own aching limbs even as that human instinct to help kicked in. Everyone looked worse for wear.

Motionless Cyber units now stood centurion around the room’s locked doors, terrifying even in their stillness. They appeared to be without instruction, frozen in place, but very much still functional. What was wrong with them? You knew the answer. Your mind drifted back to The Master.

Where the hell was he?

How could he do this to you?

To any one of these people?

A stranger filled your vision, and you felt panic surging through you instantly, heart pumping enough adrenaline to power your chemically-weakened muscles.

“You alright?”

The woman had the authority and certainty of a someone medically trained, a kindness in her eyes even through her fear. She grabbed at your shoulders, checking your vital signs, moving her hands to watch if your eyes tracked them. You groaned. It was all too much, too intense, and you tried not to see rude as you flinched away.

“I’m fine thanks,” you dismissed, peering past her.

You couldn’t take your eyes off the sheer number of people in here.

With a nod she scurried away, back to the rest of the room. They had no idea what was happening, peering up in fear at the frozen metallic claws, at the empty faces of the Cybermen.

You had been so close becoming that. Rotting flesh, trapped inside of a walking tombstone, at the whim of the hivemind which controlled these creatures. You shivered, noticing one frozen in place a few metres behind where the Master had been. They must have encroached on the halted conversion room whilst you’d been asleep, creeping in like demons in the night. Fear gripped you at the idea of those monsters stepping over your unconscious, unguarded body, preserving your form only for its use to them as a puppet.

Since you’d taken those casings apart, you’d been terrified of them. Of the fate which befell those trapped inside, stripped of their humanity. None of those people inside were any more or less worthy of life than you, no one had saved them. They were undead, beyond saving but not yet released from life.

You shuddered.

Your legs continued to shake as you clambered to your feet, tiptoeing closer to one of the Cybermen, expecting it to jump back to life any moment. One question wouldn’t leave your mind: Why were you still human?

You suspected the Master’s involvement but, from the devastation on his face as the gas descended, perhaps he hadn’t had as much influence as you’d thought. With another glance back at the door, you reminded yourself that your worst fears had been realised: he was still gone. Only a frozen monster in an otherwise empty corridor loomed back at you, still locked away by the thick doors which had separated you from him.

They must have closed again after Cybermen entered the chamber, and you knew you couldn’t open them. Cybermen were far too methodical to allow your escape.

Nothing added up. Especially that you were alive without The Master’s involvement.

Had he left on purpose? Assumed you dead? Given up on you?

You couldn’t bear to think about the worst case scenario: that he wouldn’t come back for you. Was he already running, a million lightyears away? Had the Doctor gotten to him?

Had he gotten to the Doctor?

Dwelling on your fears did nothing but make you freeze.

You needed to do something.

There were still people who needed help, you could help them.

But you couldn’t be drawn away from the door. For a sickening moment you wondered if you had imagined him, the way he trembled, begged for you to fight off the inevitable. Perhaps induced by your fear, had you imagined the one person in the universe who could comfort you?

You longed for him to come back, to tut at you for being so scared and tease you for not having a respiratory bypass system.

Instead, he was gone. You were trapped. The noise of the crowd had gradually increased again, raising to a murmur as whispers and hushed sobs of children echoed off the walls. Tones were hushed, everyone terrified of waking the machinery again. Of restarting the horror. Every movement in the room spooked people, and the crackle of an overhead announcement system made people huddle together, whispering frantically as you all anticipated a robotic voice.

‘You will be converted’ still stung fresh in your ears, that sound which had followed you, been offered as the only explanation for what was happening.

That soulless reading of a death sentence still loomed over everyone trapped here.

You tried to stand strong in your position – if nothing else you could be a barrier between the crowd and whatever came through this door – even as freshly-dried tears made your eyes ache.

When a Yorkshire lilt called your name through the speakers, and you smiled.

“Here!”

The group of people backed away from you, watching with equal fear and curiosity as you desperately shouted up to the ceiling, hoping she could hear you.

“I can open one of the doors for a moment, need a power surge and an external battery, it’s a whole thing. Can you see me?”

You scanned the perimeter of the conversion chamber, and spotted movement on the far side of the room. A few of the crowd moved to let you through, whispering, and you could have cried with relief. Her mane of blonde hair was visible through the clear panel of a door, and she waved to you manically as you jogged over it. It was a harsh contrast to how you’d spotted The Master. This time, your relief was warranted.

Unable to hear her, you relied on trying to understand how she pointed frantically to the ground at your feet, before crouching as the played with wires sticking out of something which looked suspiciously-bomb-like. You mirrored her pose, hidden from each other, now below the glass of the window.

You could hear muttering behind you, the shudder of your own breath, as you waited.

There was no rejecting the Doctor’s help now, no matter where your loyalties or personal grievances lay. With the Master gone, she was your only way out.

You had to trust her.

With a gut-wrenching clang the door suddenly shuddered and rose upwards. The thick metal looked too heavy to stop if it fell, but you just held your breath and rolled underneath, trusting her yelled command of:

“Quick!”

She scrambled to pull you clear of the door as it slammed closed like the heavy drop of a guillotine blade, making you cry out as it shook the ground. You had barely made it. That impact would have been fatal.

“Doctor!”

She was already stood, hands on hips. You found yourself left shaking on the ground. She was already on to the next problem.

“I hope that didn’t rewake the system.” She mused as she picked at the smoldering wires, seemingly unaffected by your near-death experience.

You were panting, staring at her in shock. While you’d realised a long time ago that she wasn’t any more careful with your wellbeing than the Master, you couldn’t believe her complete nonchalance. Were The Master in her shoes he would be dragging you back to his TARDIS, apologising for putting you in the situation, his bravado stripped the second he’d seen your wellbeing at stake. He’d be all gentle hands and mumbled reassurance, fury at every single person responsible for the construction of the machinery which had scared you so much.

The memory of his face through the door of the conversion room made your chest hurt, your eyes sting, and you knew he’d never forgive himself for being so reckless. For putting you at risk.

When you looked up, expecting a concerned look at the minimum, you saw the Timelord’s spot vacated. A rat’s nest of wires were the only indication she’d even been beside you. The Doctor was already walking away, shoes clicking on the metallic floor of yet another identical corridor. The Cybermen here were still too, making you hug yourself and run to keep up with her.

“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” he ground out.

The Doctor couldn’t stand not knowing. She consulted her sonic screwdriver with a scrunched-up face, holding it to her ear, scanning one of the stationary suits as you finally caught up.

“Where’s the Master?” You demanded.

“What?”

“The Master.”

Her face turned dark, and she scowled.

“Of course he’s involved in all this. I should have known. Right, um…”

With another wave and buzz of the sonic screwdriver, she scowled at the result, then at you.

“Got him.”

Perhaps you shouldn’t have told her that he was here. Would it put him at risk? Would it put her at risk? You couldn’t bring yourself to feel guilty. They would have met eventually, dragged together like unwilling magnets. They always converged eventually. And you really needed to see him.

The Doctor took off running, backtracking occasionally as she followed the trace of him the sonic had picked up. You tried in vain to remember these featureless corridors, should you need to navigate back alone. It wouldn’t work. This facility was endless, an economically designed rabbit warren marked with ruthlessly minimal symbols which you couldn’t discern meaning from.

You wouldn’t be able to get out of here alone.

You spared a thought for the poor souls still trapped in the room you’d escaped, cowering under those metal claws and eyeless Cybermen, herded here like trembling sheep.

As you ran after the blonde Timelord the corridor suddenly opened to a large hangar-style door, like the hotwired one you had barely made it under. Seeing the metal above you made you shutter and halt at the threshold, but adrenaline forced you onwards. You cared more about what was inside, who was inside.

You could see him. Hunched over a computer, Cybermen shrunken at his feet like dolls, the Master was in a state of mania as he ripped the room apart.

Seeing him The Doctor gasped and tugged you around a corner and out of view of the room. You went to whisper a protest, but found her lean hand clapped over your mouth, barely touching but enough to stop you giving away her hiding spot.

“Just trust me,” she insisted. “Stay here.”

She grabbed your hand, squeezing it as though you might be less inclined to follow her somehow.

You couldn’t. Despite everything, you felt the draw of the Master, and she tugged your arm to hold you from straying too close to him as you peeked around the corner, just watching him.

His booming voice was unmistakable as he shouted into the room, but his face was hidden from you. The control room of the underground building was sparking and torn apart in places, The Master’s precise tapping of computer keys was interspersed with the ruthless smashing of server racks as he threw them to the ground, scattering the technology. His dismantling of the room was equal parts strategic and uncontrolled destruction, and you worried for the blood seeping from his knuckles and forearms, his jacket strewn aside and sleeves rolled up.

As he took another break from the computer system to punch at a glass pane, you couldn’t let him hurt himself anymore. You surged forward from your hiding spot, feeling the Doctor trying to hold you back. Adrenaline and happiness to see him was all which powered your body.

Calling to him, you imagined his excitement at realising you were alive. Maybe he’d stop smashing. Take you to safety.

“MAST–”

The Doctor grabbed you around the waist, pulling you against her body, muting you with a single hand clamped vice-tight over your mouth. For a moment the pair of you waited in silence, shocked by each other’s actions in equal measure.  

“I don’t know what he’s done to you, but you need to stay away from him.”

Her accent grew stronger as she whispered, and you frowned. Her hand allowed you to breathe through your nose, but was tight around your jaw, her grip as strong as the Master’s.

“This is between us. You need to go back to the TARDIS.”

Not her TARDIS, you were sure of that.

You grunted into her hand, making her yell in pain as you bit down on the flesh of her palm, wriggling to get free. It didn’t even matter who she was: you refused to be manhandled. Your eyes flashed to the corridor, hoping The Master had noticed you, run to your rescue.

No footsteps came.

With a sigh, her hands found your temple, and your body weakened.

“I’m sorry, it’s a dirty trick. He’s done worse, I’m certain.”

You wanted to cry when you realised she was right. But not for the reasons she thought.

Her TARDIS was a mere few-minutes’ walk from where the pair of you had hidden, and she half-carried you the whole way, her mouth set in a grim line which terrified you more than any time the Master had ever shouted around you. You wanted to struggle, to fight her, but your body was too weakened to do anything.

You couldn’t even cry out, forced into obeying her, muscles made limp by her touch on your mind.

Setting you on the ground in the console room, she finally uncovered your mouth and dashed to the doors, calling back to you. As quickly as you had lost it, you suddenly you regained your strength, able to run at her.

“Stay in here.”

“DOCTOR!”

She darted out of the time ship just in time to escape your fury.

The TARDIS doors slammed closed, locking in an instant as you rushed to try and tug them open. It was no use, your whole body weight against the wood couldn’t move those doors.

You looked up at the ceiling of the sentient ship, hoping she might take your side, only to be met with the gentle hum of the time rotor.

“I need to get out,” you begged. “Please!”

Your exit remained barred.

A blue-tinged screen on the console flickered to life, and you left your post by the doors to peer at it. You could hear muffled voices outside, the screen showing a mute overhead view of the Doctor and her best enemy.  

“Please,” you whispered to her, stroking the console. You hoped she was like the Timelords who piloted her, using the touch to tune into your heart. “Let me talk to them.”

There was static, then a click, and you rushed back to the doors. They were still locked.

As you spun to the console in confusion, two familiar voices echoed through the ship’s speakers.

“Is she in there?”

It was him, voice desperate, demanding. The Master.

“No.”

The Doctor was a weak liar at times. He’d see through her. You pounded your fists at the translucent glass of the doors, then held one palm flat against it, begging him to notice you.

He did.

“Doctor!” He taunted. “You lied to me!”

“Stay away from her.”

Glancing back at the monitor, you could see how the Doctor’s body blocked his access to the door, positioning herself between the two of them.

“She wants to see me.”

“She doesn’t.”

You wanted to scream, object as The Doctor stood cross-armed guard between him and the ship. Your words couldn’t permeate the doors.

“Is she okay?”

The feed showed how his attire was destroyed in places, how he slumped, and something else too…

“You’re crying!” The Doctor declared, shock clear in her voice.

The Master didn’t hesitate, taking a long stride towards her, making The Doctor jut her chin out.

“Is she ALIVE?”

You didn’t need the audio feed to hear his yell, and you could see how the blonde Timelord recoiled.

“Obviously!”

He relaxed a little, taking back control, but you could still see how anger dripped off him. His words escaped him as a growl – frustration and fear a melting pot in his voice.

“You have no idea what could be in that stuff she breathed. You haven’t even checked her over, Doctor.”

“Oh, as if you actually care.”

One of them would snap, the Master’s snarling voice met with a harsh laugh from the other Timelord. One of them would just throttle the other, pull the TCE or a gun from some deep recesses of their pockets, or snap the others’ neck. One of them would survive, pulling you into their arms over the broken body of the other.

You couldn’t bear it. Tension seeped through the doors, through the silence of the TARDIS speakers and the bluelight of the screen.

“I care so much it frightens me. Can you imagine that, Doctor? That it scares me?”

He got closer to her face, almost spitting from anger.

“You’re lying,” she growled.

“I destroyed the Cyberium.”

In the grainy monitor you saw her take pause, inspecting his face for a moment, like she’d be able to see whether the Cyberium had left him from nothing but his panting and the whites of his eyes.

You’d heard about it in vague terms, the Cyber AI which he’d absorbed. You’d seen how he avoided the species like the plague as you travelled, the way he fought with it inside his own head sometimes.

Even when it seemed to cause him unbearable pain, he’d promised you it wasn’t that bad. Only in the quiet moments, when he thought you couldn’t see, did you catching him muttering to himself with his eyes pressed shut.

“You what?”

The Doctor looked disbelieving.

“I followed it. I obeyed it, helped it, and this is how it rewarded me. So I killed it.”

Speechless, The Doctor just stared at him.

“I’ll give you the command codes if you like, just let me take her. Please.”

“Have you hypnotized her?”

The Doctor’s new line of attack made you wince, spitting out her words like poison. The Master held his hands up in a surrender, a small silver box tucked under one thumb.

“No. I swear.”

“Let me talk to her first.”

For a moment, the Master seemed to look straight through the monitor, directly at you, and you swore he could tell you were watching. You moved closer to the screen, arms folded nervously as his eyes flickered back to the Doctor.

“Have it your way. I’ll be in the ship’s command room.” He turned to walk away, but you heard his voice still, steady through the speakers. “If you dematerialise, Doctor, I will hunt you down. And everyone left here will die.”

He marched off and you watched on the monitor as he left, longing to run to him as much as you wanted to kill him. The Doctor’s image paused for a moment, and you could see her pacing outside the TARDIS doors. Distracted by the live feed, you jumped when the doors finally banged open. The screen went black, and you silently thanked the ship for being on your side.

“Let me go.”

You told her firmly as she trudged towards the console, playing with one of the instruments like she was toying with just piloting the ship away.

“I will.”

The pair of you stood in silence for a moment, and you longed to say more, but what else was there to say?

“Is there any way I can convince you to stay away from him?”

You were already looking at the door, wondering if you could remember the route back to the smashed control room alone. The Doctor walked towards you, hands awkwardly behind her back, and you felt a pang of longing for what could have been if she was a little more honest, a little more open.

Her voice was desperate, soft, and it made your heart ache for the happier times you’d spent together. Before the pain which surged back and forth between you, the harsh words and the abandonment. You’d hurt each other irreparably. You couldn’t be happy with her and the fam. They would never be enough.

Despite everything, though, you didn’t want to hate her.

“I’ll always remember the adventures we had together,” you promised her.

So much had gone unsaid earlier, in your anger at her for dropping by unannounced and whisking you away like she still had a guarantee you wanted to travel with her. Facing the realisation that this really might be it, you wanted to hug her.

It was strange, wanting to leave her, and yet being so devasted about it.

“What is he, to you?”

She looked afraid to ask it, and you were sure she wouldn’t like your answer. With a sigh, you saw no sense in lying to her.

“I think I love him.”

The drop of her face was enough to confirm it, that there was no getting out of this without hurting someone.

“No mind control,” you promised.

“You can still stay. He’s dangerous.”

Her words were half-hearted. She knew your choice. You shook your head, and she finally left her comfortable spot, rounding the physical barrier of the console so there was only a few feet separating you.

“I know.”

For the first time since you’d known her, she hugged you, awkward and all misplaced limbs. You accepted it, hugging her tightly back. Her face was hidden from you, and you held her as long as she’d let you, hoping you were imagining the ragged breaths which caught in her throat.

“Will he look after you?”

“I think so.”

She nodded against your shoulder, letting you go.

“Thank you, for everything.”

You meant it. For the adventures, for the chance to get more from life than Earth could give you, for the friendships you’d shared with the fam, and for the chance to meet him.

Perhaps she already regretted that last gift.

“Let’s get going, then!”

Her chipper tone was mismatched for the somber mood as you stroked the console goodbye one last time, mumbling your gratitude to the impossible, ancient ship which had first shown you the beauty and terror of this universe. The Doctor strode out the door like this was any other adventure, and you almost expect to be met with the surface of an unknown planet, just one more time.

She led you through the corridors in silence, and you still shivered at the Cybermen as you passed them, recalling the horror concealed inside these metal soldiers.

With a quick instruction to wait for her, The Doctor darted off to check a rack of servers. This was it. Her easy out. She knew you wouldn’t wait.

You kept walking, unexpectedly recognising where you were. He wouldn’t be concealing anything in the corner of a cramped storage room. He would be at the heart of the ship. Waiting for you.

You were right. The doors to the control room hissed open as you approached, revealing him stood in the center of the room. He’d cleaned up, put his jacket back on, brushed his disheveled hair back and lost that snarling, wild-animal demeanor he had been overcome by outside the conversion room, and while he’d spoken to the Doctor. Like the best of his disguises, composure covered his true feelings as he waited for the pair of you, distain on his face and his hands casually strewn in a trouser and jacket pocket.

When he saw you approach alone his performatively curled lip dropped, face slackening as he rushed towards you, open concern on his face. When you didn’t reach out to embrace him, and he stopped, deflated a few feet from you. He tried to lighten the mood, his features picking up into an unnatural smile.

“I told you I’d get you out!”

“You didn’t.” You told him flatly.

He reached for you, and you crossed your arms over yourself, resisting his offer of affection. You wouldn’t go back to him without an apology, if you could help it.

“You left me there.”

“You’re here, you’re…”

He trailed off at the Doctor’s appearance, barging flustered into the room, muttering that she’d ‘told you to wait’. At her entrance the Master wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you tightly to him. You tried to get away, and he wouldn’t release you.

This was a show, meant only to remind the Doctor her friend had chosen him over her, and you hated it. You didn’t want to help him hurt her.

“Don’t touch me.”

He ignored your snarl. You kicked at his foot, and he broke his grip, allowing you to retreat from the two Timelords.

“Lover’s tiff,” he smiled apologetically to The Doctor, reaching out his hand for yours.

When you retreated further away from him again, he froze. He offered his palms up apologetically, and you noticed they were still littered with cuts, some particularly brutal looking. You suspected the smashed-up control room around you could answer for that. He caught you staring, open horror on your face, and shoved them in his trouser pockets.

“It’s okay,” The Doctor’s Yorkshire lilt tried to settle you, and she approached you from the other side like a scared animal. You recoiled from her too, and the Master stepped in front of you.

“You brought her here!” He scoffed to the other Time Lord. “Don’t pretend you’re any better than me!”

The Doctor was acting like the hero, as usual, treating The Master like a teacher calming a mid-meltdown child. Her soft voice and outstretched palms didn’t seem quite so sincere, on the receiving end. You could understand The Master’s anger, as her gentle voice tried to placate him.

“I brought you what you want, we can trade.”

Suddenly, pieces clicked together.

“You said you didn’t know the Master was here,” you frowned.

“Did I?”

You turned on her.

“This was on purpose. You brought me here on purpose?”

From the drop of her jaw, you could read that you were right. At least a little bit. You felt your throat tighten with tears. The Master growled.

“How dare you drag her into this!”

“What? Into your plan?” You caught yourself getting hysterical, but you didn’t care. The Timelords glanced at each other, herding you back towards the glass projection which covered the entire back wall.

“You were supposed to be on Earth! If you had stayed, like I told you –”

Under your glare, he fell silent.

The Doctor, ever playing at being a peacekeeper, tried to step closer to you, only to be matched by the Master. You had nowhere left to go, backed against the dark glass wall of the bunker as they looked between you and each other.

“Doctor, did you… know the Master was here.”

“Yes.”

She had the decency to sound remorseful. You thought back on when you first landed, how quickly you’d lost her, been swept up in the horde of people shepherded towards the conversion chamber. You remembered how you’d feared for your life, the heartbreak on the Master’s face as he’d almost watched you experience a fate worse than death.

How she’d suddenly decided she should have a heart-to-heart with you, the second the Master left you on earth.

“You used me.”

They played this game, and you were a pawn in it. She’d brought you were, let you follow her out of the TARDIS, to play with the Master. Just so she could be the savior, and he could play at matching all of her light with his dark.

“Give me the codes, and this can all end,” she spoke to the Master, refusing to relinquish any of her control as the two of them trapped you. “I’ll let you leave. Everyone downstairs lives. The Cybers get destroyed.”

“You’re monsters,” you whispered.

The two Timelords glanced at each other, not meeting your eye.

“Darling… ” The Master began. You cut him off.

“Don’t.”

“The Cyberium in my head, it was too much. I couldn’t handle it, and if I did this, I could find a way to get it out. I needed their technology, their trust. I’m sorry, love.”

You winced at the pet name. He’d called you that in bed, once, and you’d felt like the happiest person in the universe. You couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“I hope it was worth it.”

Even The Doctor wasn’t speaking. You glanced at her, trying to read anything but shock on from her expression. Following your eyeline, the Master seemed to jolt at the recollection she was even there. Both of you startled as he shoved a hand into the inside of his waistcoat, rummaging.

He threw a small silver communicator underhand to The Doctor, and she barely caught it, inspecting it with unguarded horror.

“Take this. You can dismantle the conversion facility with it, get the people downstairs out.”

She was already at the computer console, sneaking wary glances at the pair of you as her hands flew across the keys, computers still a little scorched from The Master’s earlier go at them. With the second Time Lord out of the picture, The Master turned to you.

“I was destroying this place. For what they did to you.”

“Why did you leave me?” you demanded, “down there?”

“I had to be here, to stop the gas, to freeze the hivemind. I’d already destroyed the Cyberium, I couldn’t stop it. I wasn’t in control.”

You wanted to believe him so badly, the pain in his eyes seemed so real, and he held eye contact with you like you’d never seen before.

“She was never meant to bring you were. I swear, I’ll kill every one of them myself if I have to.”

“Those people down there, they’re just like me. You were going to kill them?”

“They’re not you–”

“Believe it or not Master, I’m human. I’m the same as them. I know you hate it, but I’m the same as them.”

“You’re not–”

“I am! And you were willing to let them die.”

The tremble of his hand as he reached for your cheek gave away his fear, and you recoiled, wincing as your head collided with the hard glossy wall. The Master flinched too, dropping his hand.

“Think how many would have died if the Cyberium had taken over my mind. Taken my ship. Had you.”

The timeline was confusing. Upsetting. Too much to think about. You frowned as you tried to think about it.

“That’s why you dropped me home.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t let you see me losing control like that. I thought I could come back when it was all over, if I could get my mind back.”

The Doctor was working noisily, and an alarm started going off as she hacked further and further into the base’s system. Outside, you heard a ringing as a Cyberman crumpled to the ground.

“We need to leave.”

As angry as you were, you nodded quickly, letting him guide you out of the room. As you passed, the Doctor called your name.

“It was the only way, I’m sorry. I had to show him what he was doing…”

Her face was truly devastated, for the brief glimpse of it you caught, but you couldn’t forgive her. The Master’s arm found your waist, guiding you away from her quickly, and you let him.

Betrayal had rooted deep in your gut, making you want to nauseous as you looked at her face. All your history together, and she had knowingly dumped you in the middle of a crowd to be converted into Cybermen. Just to hurt The Master.

You saw those blank creatures, their masks hiding the faces of real people, who had loved and been loved, had dreams and wants and needs.

She’d told you it was the worst thing she could imagine. That she’d lost friends to that cruel death and would never risk losing another. At the time your heart had ached for her, for the suffering she had been through, her only crime trying to do the right thing. Apparently she didn’t consider you a friend anymore.

The screeching of collapsing metal ricocheted off the bare corridors, and the Master moved the two of you faster.

You screamed as a Cyberman moved beside you, an electrical twitch before it collapsed to the ground in a pile of loose metal, and the Master’s arm tightened around your waist even more protectively.

You couldn’t move. Your feet were stuck to the ground as you saw the unnatural way the creature fell, the skeleton inside so decomposed the usual flexibility limits of a human body were far exceeded.

Almost pulling you over with his momentum, the Master stopped beside you. He followed your stare towards the horrific sight beside you, and made a noise of discontent in the back of his throat. With a gentle hand he guided your head away until you couldn’t see the creature anymore and the vision was replaced with his face.

“I’m sorry.”

Against your better judgement, and despite everything you’d been through, you hugged him. In the corridor as the base started to crumple around you, you couldn’t help unravelling at his touch, his head against yours as he pulled you tightly against him, feeling tears welling up in your eyes as you pressed your face to his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

“No.”

Deep red lights illuminated the corridors around you, and you felt his sharp inhale of fear.

“Talk later. We need to run. Now.”

The Master struggled to navigate the corridors, swearing to himself each time he reached a junction, and dragging you in the right direction after a moment of panicked, hitting-his-own-head thought. It brought you some small measure of comfort, in the midst of this horrifying day, that he couldn’t have been here long.

Lungs aching, you fought to keep up with him. Even the Master was stumbling, unused to running for this length of time, and he shot you looks of concern as your human body needed to wheeze for breath. The collapsed bodies of Cybermen and the screaming of alarms were enough to keep you moving as the very structure itself rumbled. The burning pain in your muscles could wait.

You noticed the Master cursing up at the ceiling level above, where the Doctor still resided, muttering. What was she doing?

Finally you let yourself slow at the sight of his ridiculous outback shack. It was completely out of place and blocking a walkway. That stupid ship. You loved it.

It was facing the wrong way, and you had to use the back porch steps to clamber up onto the structure, faltering as the comfort of being near the machine finally let your adrenaline crash. He half-dragged you to keep up as you both rounded the veranda, throwing the doors open and firmly pulling you inside. He rushed to the console as the rumbling of breaking concrete and collapsing earth followed you into the ship, and you didn’t have the heart to care about the destruction happening outside.

The Doctor could handle the people who were trapped. She always did, their savior no matter the cost.

The moment the TARDIS’ doors closed, you fell into that old rickety sofa, and sobbed.

The Master piloted in silence, and once the murmur of the ship engines had stopped, he paced towards you awkwardly. He crouched to sit himself on the low table opposite your curled form, clasped his hands, and bowed his head. He let you cry yourself out, staring out as the windows at the vortex – empty and filled with flashes of colour all at the same time.

After a while he left, coming back with water and tissues, and you took them gratefully.

A few sips of water left you with enough voice to speak, albeit tremblingly, as he watched you worriedly.

“Do you think the bunker collapsed? After we left?”

“Probably. I think she got them out though. The computers could open the doors to the surface.”

“Good,” you said firmly.

“Good that they got out, or that the building collapsed?”

“Both.”

He chuckled, pulling your clenched hand away from your face. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, keeping them held to his lips. His hands were warm against your fingers as he held them, leant forwards with his elbows resting on his knees, lips surprisingly soft.

You knew he could check the fate of the bunker collapse. Future archeologists would have found it, if no one at the time recorded its outcome. But you didn’t particularly care for the truth. This ending was nicer.

Even after you fidgeted, trying to get more comfortable with him holding your hand away from you, he didn’t let go. You noticed the marring on his hands, already scabbing a little, and turned onto your side to touch the wounds.

“Do these hurt?”

“A little. They’ll heal up with some sleep, though.”

You laughed hollowly. Of course, a nap could heal wounds which you would need stitches for. He smiled sadly against your lips.

“Did you get hurt, at all? I was worried about the gas.”

“I’m a bit bruised, but I’ll be fine.”

The fall and the running made your muscles ache, but the main hurt wasn’t physical.

She’d betrayed you.

“She asked me to leave with her.”

He bowed his head, lips moving against your knuckles as he spoke.

“You said no?”

“Duh.”

He smiled.

“Thank you.”

You shrugged, not totally forgiving of him yet either. The energy had left you to fight. All you wanted was a bit of peace, convalescence before this inevitable game started again. The reckless travel, fighting over how much damage to cause, and the sex he didn’t care about.

How much longer could the two of you keep this up?

You wondered if you’d ever regret the decision to stay with him. When death stared you in the face again? The next time he forgot how human you were? At the pull of the TCE’s trigger, as he killed someone without a second thought?

Maybe then the Doctor’s different-but-equally-grey morals might seem more appealing.

Perhaps if you’d begged her to let you rejoin the ‘fam’, the Doctor might not have used you as a bargaining chip.

“When I saw you through that window… I realised you mean more to me. More than I’d ever expected.”

The admission would have made you swoon, on another day, but you just threw your head back against the wicker armrest, emotionally exhausted.

“I mean it.”

He was watching you for a reaction, and you rolled your head to face him.

His eyebrows drew together in a frown.

“You must be shattered, love.”

You could only nod, and he dropped his forehead to the hand he was clutching, a silent apology.

“What can I do to help? I need you to tell me. I’ve been alone too long, and I’m not good at this stuff –”

His breath was hot against the skin of your hand. It made you shiver.

“I just want a shower. And to sleep. We can talk in the morning I just… I’ve had a long day.”

“Of course.”

It wasn’t a surprise to you, his capacity for tenderness, but you hadn’t seen it this exposed, this prolonged, before. He seemed to move a little easier than he had in the last few weeks, his mind not drifting so far from where it ought to be tethered.

You wondered if he’d ever tell you how badly the Cyberium had affected him.

“Sorry.”

Maybe he knew what your apology was for, maybe he didn’t. Nonetheless he shook his head, helping you up, his hands held out in a silent offer for support walking should you need it. You took your own steps, legs trembling a little from overexertion as you walked alongside him towards the corridor which housed both of your rooms.

“Wait a second,” he murmured, leaving you so he could check a screen, humming at whatever he saw.

Like he’d never left, he was back, arm held out for you to take. You laid a hand across his elbow lightly, not to lean on him, but to be near him.

“What was that?”

“Just checking you’re okay.”

At your puzzled look, he continued, tone dismissive.

“The TARDIS checks your vital signs. That green gas was nasty, unknown, I just wanted to check it didn’t need any immediate attention. Seems like it just knocked you out. How are your muscles feeling?”

“Exhausted, obviously. I think I’ll ache tomorrow.”

He hummed in agreement as you reached your door, surprising you when he opened it for you and followed you inside.

“High lactic acid. Blood-oxygen’s a touch lower than I’d like, too.”

You frowned.

“Do you really measure all that stuff on me?”

“Is it creepy? I hoped it wasn’t. I just… it’s not exactly intrusive, better than a checkup or whatever. It lets me know you’re not about to drop down dead.”

He moved around your room as he spoke, collecting pajamas and your hairbrush, various other bits and bobs you might need in an overnight bag. When he caught you watching him, confused, he walked back to the door. Your possessions were bundled against his chest, secured by one of his hands.

“Come use my bath. There’s some soaks that should help you recover.”

The shake in your legs wasn’t just from the running as you crossed the corridor, surprised by the realisation his door appeared to be unlocked. It was barely six feet from the entrance to your room, but you’d never seen this door open.

You had assumed his room was always locked. When he was in there, absent from the rest of the ship, it meant he wanted to be left strictly alone. Going inside, even with his hand guiding you, felt forbidden.

He’d always fucked you in your room. It was easier for him that way. It allowed him to leave the second he was done, if he wanted to. Even when the pair of you got more comfortable, laying together, spending more time intertwined just reading or watching movies, his space was off limits.

He didn’t miss the way you halted at the threshold, looking around at the curiously designed space. The furniture didn’t match the room, you noticed. Colourless walls were contrasted with a regal four-poster, antique bookshelves stretched high towards an iridescent crystalline ceiling, futuristic inlaid lights illuminated the messiness of a hand-carved oak desk.

Old and new clashed, everything regal and big, but barely filling the oversized space.

“It’s a bit weird,” he conceded, “you can stick to your room if you like.”

“No, no its fine. Just not what I expected.”

He set your things on the bed, and you picked over the sweats he’d brought, clutching them to your chest.

“What did you expect?” he grinned.

“I don’t know. Versailles? Or some kind of BDSM torture chamber?”

With a laugh he appraised the room, biting his lip in amusement.

“Are you disappointed?”

You found yourself grinning too, as he shucked off his coat and lay it over the desk chair.

“A little.”

The newly formed tension between you had felt like a lead weight, and you only realised when it was broken. You bounced on your heels as much as your injured muscles allowed, and let him lead you to the bathroom.

“Don’t change yet, I’ll just grab some shower stuff!”

More classic, the bathroom was all marble, the space dominated by an oversized claw-foot tub. For a moment you realised the pair of you could fit in there comfortably, before brushing the thought away. Exhaustion was making you hazy already. You’d just fall asleep.

Plus, you remembered, you were mad at him.

Ignoring his warning you started to strip off, left in just your underwear by the time he appeared in the doorway with an ‘oh!’

“Its fine. Nothing you haven’t seen before,” you pointed out.

He still looked sheepish.

“Rub this on anywhere that hurts before you get in the water, should stop any inflammation and you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Help?”

You were too tired to navigate the pain mapped all across your body alone, and you didn’t want to be without company. The screams of the child who’d lost a mother, of the people who’d seen that gas descending, the slamming of the door you’d barely rolled under, they’d all find your ears again as ghosts the moment you were without distraction.

Without you stripping off any further, the pair of you managed to apply the chalky substance all over your body, the honey-sweet smell filling the air as his hands cautiously rubbed it across your muscles. You were more slapdash with your own application, and he quietly returned to spots you’d missed, making sure you wouldn’t ache. His attention to your muscles was so tender and careful, you had to keep talking, just to stop yourself choking up.

“I could have used this on the Doctor’s TARDIS!” you had tried to joke.

The other Timelord was far more fond of running, and you’d woken up countless mornings in agony, even as the fun of the day before electrified the atmosphere in her ship.

The Master stayed silent.

On many levels, you felt you understood him a little better now. It had hurt, to be betrayed by her, but you had something in common now.

“Did it hurt to leave her?” he whispered.

The Master’s eyes were on your calf as he kneaded the substance into your skin, but his hands froze at your momentary silence.

“Yeah. It did. Before I realised what she’d done, at least.”

He nodded silently, swallowing. The pair of you froze as you finally put the glass jar down, accepting that this excuse to be together was done. His hands left your skin and he walked to the sink awkwardly, washing his hands in silence.

He didn’t leave, leaning against the counter and watching you.

“Give me a shout if you need me, okay?”

You smiled, suddenly shy, barely recognising the man in front of you.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll be just outside.”

Finally, he left. He closed the door with a click, and instantly you felt like an intruder, left alone in his bathroom. It was tidy, but everywhere were reminders it was his space. Aside from your clothes folded messily on the counter, there was only his things. A matte black range of branded products scattered the room, lined up by his toothbrush, on a built-in shelf of the shower. You wanted to investigate them, smell them. See which of them were responsible for the smell you associated with him.

The tub of hair clay by the sink had the lid slightly ajar, and it made you smile as you corrected it. He must have gotten ready in a rush. It was strange, that he’d even wanted you in here, but you hoped it was some step towards real closeness. There was still so much to say, but that was easy to forget when he was there, caring for you.

You’d only left the Doctor because you could see a future with him – something she couldn’t offer you, surrounded by carelessness and lies and three other companions. The Master could offer you more. You could almost picture your own toothbrush, stood up next to his.

You stripped off your underwear and left it on the countertop, foregoing the tub for the alluring waterfall shower in the corner of the room. It was easily big enough for four people, all natural-cut stone with a simple pair of dials to control it. Beautiful, and completely to the Master’s taste.

Before you had touched anything the TARDIS started the water, a slow trickle turning into a warm sheet of water which made you sigh at the sensation of being underneath it.

“Thanks, dear,” you mimicked how he spoke to the ship, and she flickered the lights in return.

It was heaven, to finally have every remaining atom of that base, that conversion room, those corridors, swept off your skin.

The products you reached for all smelt faintly like him – a matching suite of mildly citrus-scented body wash and hair products. Exhaustion and the smell made you feel dazed as you rubbed the chalky healing substance off your body. The smell of him made you feel somehow guilty as you tried to clean the sweat and grime from your hair and your face. His senses were so attuned, you wondered if it would freak him out. Or whether he’d like it, to have you smelling of him. Like a claim.

If he was still outside the unlocked door the thundering of the water hid any noise he made. You rolled your shoulders and turned the heat up, letting the heaviness of the water rush over you, waiting for this day to make sense.

You had no idea how long you stood there lost in thought. The Master’s voice dragged you back to reality, calling your name worriedly through the door with a rap of his knuckles against the wood.

“Are you okay?”

“All good!”

Calling back, you quickly rinsed your hair before shutting the water off, suddenly driven back to motion by his concern. Back in your early days together he’d often overestimated how much humans could withstand, lamenting the ‘wasted’ hours of sleep you wanted, or the frequency with which you had to eat. He’d gotten better recently. He was aware of how exhaustion affected you, appreciated that you couldn’t walk or run forever. It had amused you when he started carrying food and even occasionally arranging places for you to stay overnight, should your travels require it.

On a fundamental level, he had started caring for you more.

The Master had never gone to this extent, though. Or perhaps you had never needed his care as much. The scans his ship seemed to run on you proved he’d at least been checking your body was okay all this time.

Maybe he’d always just checked your health and opted to let you heal alone, before today.

A deep burgundy towel hung on a heated rail beside the shower and you grabbed it, careful not to slip as you wrapped the material around you. It was oversized, thick and soft, and you couldn’t help the jolt when you felt the warmth of it on your bare skin and remembered it was his.

Even though he’d been inside of you, gotten to know you, you’d never been allowed to know him back. Not really. This felt like a start.

You had to brush the thought aside, drying your hair as best you could without a hairdryer, pulling on pajamas and leaving the wet towel back where you found it for the ship to deal with. It took a moment, and a deep breath, for you to finally emerge from the steam-filled room.

The Master was sat on his bed, reading some book from his collection which was quickly strewn onto his desk as you approached.

“Better?”

“Yeah, thanks. I think I’ll still ache tomorrow.”

He looked a little sheepish.

“Hopefully not. That stuff’s pretty good, usually.”

You stood uncomfortably for a moment, waiting for some cue from him on where to go from here. He turned down the bed, silently pulling the covers aside for you to climb in. Then he looked at you expectantly, as if you were obviously supposed to just clamber into his bed. You were surprised, but all too grateful for the comfort.

“Really?”

He left your question unanswered. You settled beneath the sheets, and The Master watched you as he tried to figure out what to do next.

“Do you want me to…”

He was mid-thought, it seemed, asking you if he should leave his own bedroom. You spoke over him.

“Can you stay with me? Just for tonight. We’ll forget it ever happened tomorrow if you want.”

He faltered, still watching you curiously. You wondered what his plan had been, if not to stay with you.

“Every time I close my eyes, I see those fucking metal claws, the insides of those creatures, I –”

Without a word he stripped off his jacket, boots and waistcoat.

“I just need a shower. Give me five minutes.”

You nodded, wrapping the covers around you and trying to get comfortable. You’d never had ‘sides of the bed’ - he’d never stayed long enough to designate those - but you couldn’t shake the feeling you were in the wrong place.

It was stupid. To be having casual sex with the man, to trust him with your life, and not even feel entitled to be sleeping in his bed.

Something had to change.

The Master was barely gone two minutes, emerging from his shower with a towel slung around his hips. He rummaged through his wardrobe before tugging free a pair of checkered pajama trousers, glancing to check you were still there before silently returning to the bathroom to change. You looked away at his half-nakedness, hoping he hadn’t noticed your breath hitch.

The two of you were a mess.

His awkwardness didn’t escape you as he rounded the bed, shirtless and with wet hair.

He climbed in beside you, careful not to touch you, and you tried to be as unobtrusive as possible, letting him pull the covers over himself and refusing to let your bodies roll together, even as the mattress gave. To your surprise, he lay out to mirror you, on his side behind you.

If not to the distance between your bodies, he could be chest to chest with you.

“Comfy?”

You nodded against the pillow, hands self-consciously tucked away in front of you. You could feel it when he spoke, the whisper of his breath on your neck. His head rested inches behind yours, intimate even as the pair of you didn’t touch.

“You smell nice,” he mumbled, nose close to your freshly-washed hair.

You laughed.

“I smell like you, of course you like it!”

That got a chuckle out of him, and you could feel how his body moved the mattress as he exhaled.

“Are you cold? Your hair’s still wet.”

You shrugged, and he brought his arm around you, resting it on you without pulling you in. He made a noise of contentment as you shuffled closer into him, letting him hold you more easily.

With a gulp, you hoped his closeness to you would stop him from recoiling at your question.

“Before you dropped me off… when I fell asleep…”

“I’m sorry.”

Oh.

“So, you did do it.”

“You wouldn’t leave otherwise. It is not safe for humans around Cybermen,” he trailed off.

The question you wanted answered was obvious, hanging in the air, making you tense.

“Its not okay, to mess with people’s heads like that,” you chided him gently, with no anger in your tone, nothing to make him explode at you like he had before.

“I… yeah. I know.”

You frowned, even as you knew he couldn’t see you.

“The Cyberium… it made me not trust myself. It was relentless, talking to me. Muddling my thoughts with the AI…”

“You were scared.”

“I was furious. It made me volatile.”

His face buried into your neck. As though this was the most natural thing in the world, you found yourself trusting his touch. You brought a hand up to stroke his hair as he mumbled against your skin.

“I was scared. It threatened to hurt you if I didn’t do what it wanted. I didn’t sleep for a month, couldn’t let my guard down, knowing it might use my body to hurt you. It was trying to get to me.”

You found his arm where it was strewn across your side and covered it with your own arm, squeezed his hand in comfort.

“You should have told me.”

“How could I?”

Without a response you fell silent, thumb tracing the hairs on the back of his hand.

“I hope you’ll forgive me, someday. You shouldn’t have been there. I promise.”

He blamed the Doctor, beyond all anger, he was just upset with her. You could never hope to understand the length and breadth of their tumultuous relationship. It would take a human lifetime to comprehend the bond between them – two near-gods who had been stuck in a game of cat and mouse for their whole lives.

“She used me.”

“I wish she hadn’t.”

Without seeing each other’s faces, it was easier to talk.

“Would you have stopped it, if I hadn’t been there?”

“Eventually. I wanted to destroy the base properly. I wanted a plan. I hate the Cyberium for what it did to me. It should have been power, knowledge, and instead it tried to steal what I knew, take my body for its own. The things it showed me… how it threatened me… I couldn’t let it take what’s mine.”

“The TARDIS…” you realised.

“And you.”

You nodded abruptly at his words.

One thought wouldn’t leave your mind: those people around you, he would have let them die.

Collaterally to you, he’d saved them.

And maybe that could be a start.

“Is the Cyberium totally gone now?”

“Yep! Transferred it to the supercomputer on the base, and then destroyed the machinery. Tricky to hide my plan from the AI, but I managed it.”

You couldn’t help smirking at his brag.

“And how do you feel?”

“Glad to have my mind to myself again,” his tone flattened.

It was hard to believe everything fell together, just like that. It still felt so unfinished, so… unhandled. In the minutes you were alone the feelings of betrayal, the sheer enormity of your ordeal, had felt so unmanageable. Now, you felt ready to heal.

Beneath his hand, your stomach gurgled loudly, and you cringed at the noise.

As you were about to apologise, the Master spoke.

“Wait, did you eat today?”

You frankly had no idea how long today had even been. You shook your head with a confused frown, realising that now the adrenaline had left your system, you were damn hungry.

He clambered out of bed, and you pulled the duvet aside to follow him, your muscles protesting at even the idea of walking to the kitchen.

“No, stay there, you need to rest. I’ll be quick.”

True to his word, a plate of food was dumped on your lap in minutes. Some of it not quite fit for human consumption, but most of it your favourites.

He clambered back into bed beside you. He used his body to prop you up comfortably. He picked off what you didn’t want, chatting away about nothing in particular, and something scarily like peace settled over you. That twinge of panic, the fear his mood would flip on a dime, ebbed further away every time he made sure the blankets were covering your feet. With every second he sat beside you, sneaking bites of your food and laughing when you spilt crumbs on his covers, your resolve grew.

You’d stay.

Maybe you imagined it, but he seemed so much happier in his own head. The dark moments when he wasn’t paying attention never appeared, the mental war he was fighting never sneaking outwards to play across his face. Every laugh felt sincere, every word authentic.

When you were done eating the Master cleared the plate, and you took it in turns to brush your teeth. He went first, and when you took his place in the bathroom you saw a brand-new toothbrush sitting innocently beside his at the sink.

The sight made you feel dizzy, even minutes later when you re-emerged into his darkened bedroom, taking your place once more in the bed. The image of those two toothbrushes side by side was burned into your mind. He pulled you to his shirtless body wordlessly, no hesitations this time, whispering a goodnight as the room fell into pitch-blackness.

You needed to rest.

Each time you closed your eyes, you tensed up. No matter the comfort, The Master had gone still beside you, but you were certain he was still awake.

“Where are we?”

“Somewhere near the Alzarium Galaxy, I believe.”

“How far–”

“Half a universe away, I promise.”

You closed your eyes again, feeling him breathe behind you as you tried to push the image of that collapsed Cyberman from your mind, the screams, that crying, motherless child. You’d seen horrors before, but rarely as the victim of them. Never so close.

Suppressing tears, you opened your eyes, staring into the darkness of the room.

“I can’t sleep.”

He hummed sympathy, pulling you tighter to him and brushing his nose against your neck. You sighed into him, trying to close your eyes again, unable to keep your mind from straying.

“Help me?”

You could talk more tomorrow, when you’d rested and had some distance from everything. But as you fell asleep, dreamless as the Master’s hands cupped your temples, you knew you were home.