#to be honest i drew it and i still repress it in my head

[rhysdasiorarchive]

Even with an explanation provided as to why healthy, honest open communication was apparently an outlandish suggestion, it did little to soothe Rhys’ ire. He gave Roland an incredulous look in response despite the apology offered but didn’t push the point further. What was done was done and debating the particulars of it wouldn’t change a thing; the damage had been dealt. Roland seemed convinced that there was still something to be rebuilt between them and it took all of Rhys’ remaining self-control not to laugh at such steadfast trust in something that seemed, quite frankly, delusional at this point. Even if he typically prided himself upon repressing any and all emotional shortcomings, especially within the workplace, there was no feasible way for Rhys to stifle himself at a time like this. The hurt and confusion surrounding Roland’s actions remained raw, made all the more agonising by being dragged so suddenly to the forefront by the vampire’s spontaneous return to his life. He hadn’t been given adequate time to emotionally prepare himself or to construct any of the usual walls he put in place during office hours. As a result, each response was likely more venomous than it had any right to be, but Rhys didn’t necessarily feel bad about it; Roland needed to know that he’d fucked up. It was simply a necessary evil. “You’d be better off focusing your efforts elsewhere,” Rhys replied dismissively, waving away Roland’s vulnerability before moving to take another drag on his cigarette and exhaling sharply, his frustration evident in every gesture.

Rhys didn’t miss the flash of anger that illuminated Roland’s eyes and he arched an eyebrow at the sight immediately as if to challenge it. How he thought he had any right to be the one to harbour anger during this exchange, Rhys didn’t know. If his mood wasn’t as foul as it was, he probably would’ve been amused by the audacity of it all. Rhys’ jaw clenched as Roland launched into his own tirade, surprisingly determined to let Roland have his say without interruption. At the very least, it was the decent thing to do even if he was yet to be wholly convinced of whether Roland was deserving of such treatment. As Roland’s defensive retort drew to a close, another hollow laugh left Rhys and he sat up a little straighter to stub his cigarette out, taking another sip from his glass before setting it on the table beside the ashtray, sitting back to cross his ankle over his knee again, absentmindedly drumming his fingers against the armrest of the armchair as he studied Roland in silence for another prolonged moment.

“You say you would never throw those things back in my face, that this isn't what you’ve done here… and yet, it is. It’s precisely what you’ve done, Roland. It’s what you did the moment you decided to disappear from my life without a word. You were focused on your own problems, I get that, but by casting me aside – which you did do, let’s get that straight – your actions and decisions led to you throwing all that back in my face. You’re trying to ease the burden of your conscience here and again, I get it, it makes sense, but who the fuck do you take me for?” Rising from Seth’s seat with a surprising amount of calm, Rhys’ expression was anything but as he made a beeline for Roland. “You want things to go back to how they were? You really think that’s gonna happen after everything?” Rhys scoffed bitterly, shaking his head as he came to an abrupt halt an arm’s length from the councilman. “Should’ve thought about that before.”

Roland was fairly attuned to Rhys, or at least he had been, so even as he explained he watched for his reaction as best he could. He wanted to notice any minute change in his expression, any crack in the armour of his anger and hurt. Rhys was stony, at first, but Roland caught the frown and the way he blanched at the confession of love. Not exactly the most encouraging reaction, true, but at least it was something. At least he knew the words had gotten through and been understood if nothing else even if the indifference crept back moments later. Roland continued and clocked every sound and absorbed every bit of Rhys' judgement. Roland knew he deserved it but he was willing to endure it, to show Rhys he would endure it and that none of it would turn him away. He'd confessed his feelings and meant them and now he had to show Rhys the strength of that conviction no matter how frosty the reception.

After Roland stopped talking, the silence dragged on. Roland watched as Rhys made another drink, as he sat back down and lit a cigarette, and still he didn't say a word. Was this to be part of his punishment, then? The silent treatment? It had almost reached the point where Roland felt like he should say something just so it wouldn't continue but then Rhys, finally, started talking and he certainly had a lot to say. The tone wasn't encouraging at the beginning and it only got harsher as Rhys reprimanded him. Roland sighed, waiting for at least a pause before he spoke. He should be able to at least defend himself, shouldn't he? For once, he wasn't going to interrupt but when Rhys stopped for a moment, settling him with a hard stare and something that was most definitely a sneer starting to curl his lip, Roland spoke, his tone much gentler than Rhys'. "I didn't know how to explain it to you. It seemed foolish to, in one breath, confess the feelings I feared I had but then in the next say it was because of those that I needed some time apart. It seemed cleaner somehow to break it off completely until I could sort myself out. Clearly it wasn't the right call, I see that now, and I'm sorry. It seemed like the only option at the time." Rhys continued and Roland bore it. If the witch had paused long enough he would have explained that he couldn't look at him for long in council meetings because the longing for him was so strong it would have broken his resolve and he'd have gone to him and likely made a bigger mess of it all. Perhaps he could let him know after Rhys had said everything he wanted to say.

Roland couldn't help but wince a little to hear that Rhys' feelings had changed. The anger, hurt, and willingness to at least hear Roland out seemed to be contrary to that sentiment but it still wasn't pleasant to hear. He wanted to have patience for this, though, as much as he could. He'd hurt Rhys, after all, it was only fair that Rhys hurt him back. The witch seemed determined to do so as the harsh words kept coming and Roland frowned as he went on. Thankfully, Rhys chose that moment to smoke and drink which provided Roland another opportunity to speak. "We do have a worthwhile bond even if it's been tarnished by my actions. I never used you, Rhys. Every conversation we had, every word I spoke to you, it was always genuine. How could it be otherwise? That's how I fell in love with you. I'm hoping that I can show you how much I mean it, that I can make it up to you somehow. I'll put in as much time and effort as it takes to accomplish that. Making you believe that, at least, is the outcome I'm hoping for."

Roland had thought he'd been willing to placidly take whatever Rhys threw at him and up until this point he'd done just that, his answers calm, gentle, imploring, even apologetic. The last thing he needed to do here was fight but when Rhys called his feelings into question he couldn't help how his eyes flashed with anger. He really dared to think he knew how Roland felt better than he did when the vampire had spent the last two months painstakingly sorting it out? No, that he couldn't bear, nor the implication that he didn't value everything Rhys had shared with him. His jaw clenched but he still let Rhys finish and when he spoke it was controlled, low, but there was a bit more heat in his tone now. "I don't think I love you, I know I do. I've spent these last two months realising and embracing the truth of that. You're not supposed to say that it's fine and I'm not expecting a free pass. I'm prepared to have to work to get you back, to get us back to where we were before I acted this way. But don't think, for one moment, that you know how I feel better than I do. I value everything you've told me and treasure every secret you've shared with me. I would never throw those things back in your face and that isn't what I've done here." He would take responsibility for what he had done but he wouldn't stand to be accused of something he hadn't or whatever false expectations Rhys thought he had.

[thread-theocracy]

tora mentally flash banging me with that onceler luci art ive had repressed for so long

its my civic duty!!! (also sorry mog for the collateral damage!!!)

[opalesense]

more than friends

kaeya & gn!reader

2k words • ~15 min. read

summary: feeling down in the dumps on a lonely valentine’s day evening, you are met with a pleasant surprise from your close friend, kaeya.

warnings: just pure lovesick fluff!!  shy kaeya my beloved... <3

notes: i defrosted this draft from valentine’s day aahhh hope you like it!! ;^; p.s. shoutout if you can spot his canon voice lines in this hehehe

SITTING WITH MY BACK ON THE FOUNTAIN WALL and watching the rotating blades of the windmills in Mondstadt was not how I expected to spend my evening on Valentine's Day.

   To be honest, Valentine's Day was never that big of a deal to me.  For the past few years, I always considered Valentine's Day to be a day where vendors could get a boost of profit by exploiting the gift-giving aspect of the holiday and selling their wares to cheesy couples who wouldn't know any better.  Why was there a dedicated day to be sweet to your significant other?  Couldn't special gifts be given at any other time of the year?

  Despite my indifference to Valentine's Day, I couldn't help but feel a little lonely this year.  My back purposely faced the couples of Mondstadt who would walk by now and then on their way to their dates and instead I had windmills to accompany me along with a book to pass the time.  I figured my evening stroll outside wouldn't make me feel so disappointed in myself, but I was proven sorely wrong.  I couldn't even look at other people today without feeling sorry for myself.

   "[Y/N]?" a familiar voice drew closer behind me, interrupting my lament and startling me.  "What are you doing here all alone?"

   I turned my head to see my close friend and neighbor Kaeya approaching me, carrying a small leather pack along with his sheathed sword on his waist.  I realized he probably finished his shift at the Knights of Favonius headquarters and was just about to head home.  The sight of him eased some of my worries knowing that despite my usual solitude, at least I would talk to one person today.  "Just reading a book," I held up the cover of my book for him to see.  He gave a small nod to the title as I put it back down into my lap.  "How did you even spot me here?"

   "I can see you from my office," he pointed at a window on the wall of the headquarters, "You chose quite an odd spot for reading, dear friend. You must be uncomfortable on the ground like that.”

   I nervously laughed, not wanting to admit that I sat behind this fountain to avoid looking at how much fun everyone else was having.  My gaze turned to the sky, a vibrant orange that now began fading into a shadow of dark blue sprinkled with stars.  Dusk was approaching. “I suppose it is getting a little late for reading, now that I think about it.  I think I might head home now."

   "Allow me to accompany you on your walk home.  I’m headed that way, after all," he quickly offered as I began to prop myself up to my feet.  He held out his hand to help me on my way up, the sudden physical contact sending a shiver down my spine.  As clearly touch deprived as I was, my hand quickly pulled away once I was standing and dusted off my clothes, which were wrinkled from sitting for so long today.

   "You are too kind, Kaeya," I grinned, earning a grin back from him.  Maybe this is my loneliness speaking for me, but I swear that smile might have made my heart skip a beat.  Although I may have had a crush on Kaeya for the past few months, there was no way I’d ever let those thoughts resurface now.  I've done a good job of repressing the feelings for so long, whether I was around him or not.  At least, I thought I did.

   As we walked, it suddenly dawned on me that the feelings never truly went away.  They were persistent for months, despite being suppressed.  He was my closest friend for quite some time now.  So maybe it was a sign that it was meant to be...

   Chills ran down my spine at this realization.  And once the truth had settled in, the feelings I thought I had managed to stow away suddenly flooded my mind in a storm of emotion.  The more we talked during the walk home, the more eager my heart was to open up and let the thought of him fill the cavernous, lonely void inside.  My eyes nervously turned to our feet, which stepped together in perfect sync.  My attention darted to the hand at his side, which I ached to touch once more.  The more I tried to fight this longing, to forget about it and keep it isolated, the more it fought back in an effort to stay alive.

   "[Y/N]?" his sultry voice snapped me out of my delusion.  Do NOT let your emotions take control of you, I scolded myself.

   "Sorry," I shuffled my feet towards his figure, which had stopped a few meters away.  The world seemed to stop when I was lost in thought, and with each step I took towards him, the world slowly resumed from where I mentally left it.

   "Is something wrong?" he asked, now concerned.  "You know you can talk to me."

   "No, no.  I'm fine," I gripped my book, fighting the urge to break in front of him.  "I'm just a little lost in my thoughts."

   "Well then, what's on your mind?"

   "Kaeya, you won't make fun of me if I’m being honest with you right?" I started to speak without thinking.  No, no, no!  What are you about to say?!

   "What makes you think I would?  C’mon, [Y/N].  We joke around a lot but you know I'm good with secrets."

   What are you doing?!  Don’t fall under pressure like this!

   "Well...  I’ve felt quite lonely today.  A little part in me hurts to see so many people enjoying Valentine's Day, knowing fully well that I live alone and spend most of my days alone...   I guess what I’m trying to say is that it was very kind of you to go out of your way to talk to me today, Kaeya.  It means a lot more to me than you know."

   The silence that followed that regurgitation of thoughts was lethal.  Kaeya didn't even stop.  We just kept walking.  I ignored the instant regret that pounded the walls in my head.

   "So you didn't have any plans today?" he asked, as if he had just ignored everything I told him.

   "Not at all.  I was taking a stroll to find a good reading spot for today but seeing so many couples together...  I guess it was like pouring salt into the wound.  That's why I was sitting turned away from everything, if that answers your question from earlier."

   Now you've just told him too much.  If he didn't already think you were sad and lonely before, he definitely thinks so now.

   "You shouldn't isolate yourself like that, [Y/N].  We could've– forget it, actually," he chuckled and rested his hand on the back of his neck as we finally approached our residential complex.

   "Hey, spit it out!" I nudged him with my elbow, "I poured out my thoughts for you, don't get all shy now.  It's your turn."

   We stopped at my front door, exchanging small chuckles.  The space between us was killing me. If only I could get enveloped by his warm embrace now... No!

   "How about I tell you later?  Meet me here in around ten minutes."

   "What?!" I scoffed, "Now you’re just toying with me."

   "Ten minutes," he gave me one last grin and a short wave before jogging away towards his own house.  I shook my head as I turned the key to my door, feeling the slamming of my heart against my ribs and the sloppy mix of awe, nervousness, and regret boiling in my stomach.  His smile was frozen inside my mind like a photograph capturing a memory. It hurt to like him this much.

   A knock on my door ten minutes later pulled me away from tending to my plants on my balcony.  I set the watering can down and rushed to the door, straightening out my clothes once more before opening it.  Contrary to my expectations, Kaeya stood in the doorway with a shy grin, his hands obviously hiding something behind his back.

   "I thought you were joking when you said ten minutes," I scoffed and crossed my arms, looking up at him to meet a pair of soft eyes.

   "Still don't have plans for tonight?" his eyebrows raised with the question.

   "No.  What, are you about to take me out on a date or something?" I said in jest.  He chuckled and uncrossed his arms behind his back with slight hesitation before revealing a dainty bouquet of calla lilies tied with a silver ribbon.  My jaw dropped slightly in shock with the sight of the charming white petals.

   "I am, actually," his voice was gentler and sweeter than usual.  "These are for you."

   He motioned for me to take the bouquet, which I gladly accepted.  The subtle fragrance reminded me of his own scent, which made me smile.  I secretly wished my entire house would smell like this unforgettable aroma – this unforgettable man.

   "[Y/N]," his words were laced with hesitation, "I have been waiting weeks to tell you this but...  you are constantly on my mind.  Whenever I see you my heart jumps and..."

   He chuckled with nervousness.  That grin never fails to make my chest light up.

   "...and I know you're not going to believe me because you say I smooth talk everyone, but I promise you, [Y/N].  I know you see that I’m nervous right now – that doesn't happen to me with anyone else.  This feeling hasn't gone away for months.”  Instant regret suddenly painted his face, which I quickly took notice of.  I stepped closer to him and lifted my hand to gently cup his warm, blushing cheek.  It was my way of telling him to keep talking without interrupting him.

   "[Y/N]..." he blushed more at the touch and sighed, "you are so special to me and... I’ll get straight to the point. I want to be more than friends. I really mean it.”

   He stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited eagerly for my response.  I was no longer thinking properly.  My heart had taken over my mind, and for once, it was for my benefit.

   "Kaeya," my voice cracked with a million emotions at once, "you have no clue how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.  I am so in love with you it makes me sick," I admitted lightheartedly.

   He laughed with relief, taking another step closer to me and shrinking the space between us.  He lifted his hand to grab mine and intertwined our fingers together.  The mood shifted from nerve wrecking intensity to reassurance and gentleness the instant our palms met.  He caressed my hand with his gloved thumb for reassurance, chasing all my troubles away.  "I promise I will never let you feel alone ever again."

   We stood there staring into each other's eyes for a few moments, exchanging so many mutual emotions in mere seconds.  A blush began to creep up my face as well when he gave my hand a squeeze accompanied with a proud smile.

   "Well, now that we're both blushing messes in love with each other, how about we finally go out tonight?"  Our friendly dynamic finally returned to clear the thickness in the air once he broke the silence.  "I have to admit, I was feeling a little lonely myself and was just going to drink at the tavern with some of the other Knights tonight.”

   "Not anymore, I hope?"

   "Definitely not.  I’d rather spend the evening holding your hand and taking a stroll through the city so everyone knows I’m finally yours."

   This man sure knows how to say the right thing.  I glanced at the bouquet in my arms, partly to hide my reddened face but also to ask, "Could I put these in a vase first?  They're beautiful, by the way. I really love calla lilies.”

   "Oh yes, of course. But they’re not as beautiful as you, cutie," Kaeya said with no reluctance.

 There's the flirty Kaeya that I know.

 I let out a shy laugh as he let go of my hand, the loss of touch making me pout.  As I turned to put the flowers away, he leaned on the doorframe and let out a deep breath.

    "Well, I'll be here.  Don't make me wait too long, now."

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

pause, m | myg | 4

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Some things that are normal for most aren’t normal for you and Yoongi. He moved in and sleeps in the same bed with you, but still all you do is hold hands and kiss gently. Everyone has their own pace. Not everyone lives in the fast lane. There’s just... this nagging feeling. You have to be honest. 

warnings: rated M (18+) - mentions of a previous physically and verbally abusive relationship; language; smut (penetrative sex); there’s so much fluff you might die; also RIP to their heads XD; non-idol!AU; music producer!Yoongi x dancing fanatic!reader

rated M because I know how sensitive a topic domestic abuse is.

--

3.

-

"Sorry."

"What?"

You retreated your hand from the tuft of hair sticking out of Yoongi's black cap. He turned around and raised his eyebrows at you. You ended up apologizing before actually doing anything or even touching the little black tail in the opening of his hat. He adjusted the brim and gave you a weird look. 

"Something wrong?" he asked, tilting his head. 

"No, uh... I..." You struggled to find the words. "I almost touched you. I wasn't sure if you were okay with that."

Yoongi smiled a little. "It's okay. I know you're there. And I know it's you."

He was sitting right next to you at your computer in your bedroom. You had set up a station for him, the two of you in the corner, occupying two computers ninety degrees from each other. All you had to do was turn to the right and he was there. He turned to the left and you were there. It was kind of cramped and not ideal, but it had to do for now. Yoongi worked on music at home. Some things Yoongi could only do at the studio, but some things he could do at home. You found him a decent computer and some hand-me-down equipment and it was good enough. 

Actually...

It was miles better than it was before. He was surprised when you asked him if he wanted to work on his music at home. It wasn't permitted in Yoongi's previous relationship. But you saw he lamented sometimes, recording demos on his phone and wishing he had some sort of setup to do some things. You didn't understand the technical aspects, but it couldn't hurt to ask, right? It had become a fun project and now Yoongi was sitting beside you.

Yoongi spied the images on your monitor. "What are you looking at?"

You turned back. "Apartments. I'm just trying to see if there's something bigger, so you can have your own music studio at home."

He bit his lip. "I can't afford that right now."

You understood that Yoongi often mentioned money because it was a topic of arguments with his ex-girlfriend. You hadn't gone into this expecting Yoongi to be rich. In any case, it was better for him to invest in his music. You had already told him this, but habits take time to be broken. Thankfully, your work paid well even though it was mostly clerical duties. There were perks to having worked at the same company for a long time.

"It's okay. I want a bigger space too." 

"You mean you want your dance studio back?" he teased. 

You felt your ears heat. "I can use the living room... anyway, I want you to be able to work in peace. I haven't seen anything good though."

"Mmm, well, this kind of thing takes time and luck."

You turned your head to look at him and found his face next to your shoulder. A handsome profile. His eyes shifted to look at you. Something flitted in those dark brown eyes. The nagging feeling came back, tapping inside your ribcage, rattling impatiently. You looked away, back at your computer screen. 

Yoongi said your name softly. 

"Is something wrong?" His voice wavered. "Did I do something?"

"No, Yoongi," you replied, still not looking at him. The frustration inside expanded. You knew you had to communicate. You couldn't not. If you avoided it any longer, you would be growing the seeds of doubt and you wanted Yoongi to trust you. To do that, you needed to be honest. 

"I'm horny."

Silence. 

"What?"

You jerked a little in your seat, moving away from Yoongi before raising your head to make eye contact. Your chest felt tight, ashamed, even though it wasn't supposed to be embarrassing. 

"I'm horny," you repeated, rubbing your fist on your thigh. "I don't want to pressure you because I know that topic might be delicate. I just..." You kept looking at those wide cat-like eyes and then looking away, heart beating fast and heat building faster. "I find that I can't really look at you that long without thinking about it. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Silence. You felt your stomach knot.

“I don’t remember the last time I had sex,” Yoongi murmured. “I don’t remember the last time I wanted it.”

Ah. Right. That would make sense. Of course, that’s how he felt. Also, you weren’t exactly sexy. The octopus dancing didn’t really get the guys, so to speak. You could handle yourself. It was fine. He was just so… You wanted Yoongi to feel good with your touch, wanted his heart to flutter the way yours fluttered, wanted to see him breathless with want.

There was a weight on your thigh.

You started, looking down, breath at your throat. You were wearing loose gray shorts and the matching sweatshirt. Not a sexy outfit to get your freak on. But you were staring at Yoongi’s hand, kneading the fabric and your leg underneath and the heat was rising, heart racing.

“I think I need a reminder…” he murmured. “A reminder on how good it feels to be loved like that.”

Yoongi lifted his head and you stared into his eyes.

He leaned forward and closed the distance, kissing you softly, and you breathed him in, fitting your hand over his, guiding it up, gentle touches, turning in your chair to face him, and he was turning to you, holding you close, your hands skimming over his t-shirt, not trying to get more, just wanting to show your want, just demonstrating how you would run your hands over his skin if there was no barrier, and he stood up, making you stand up.

And then your heads banged together.

“Ow!”

“Motherfuc–”

You swore and Yoongi clamped a hand over your mouth, rubbing his forehead and shaking his head.

“Don’t ruin this,” he winced, removing his hand.

“My brain feels rearranged,” was your woozy response, cursing the narrow space.

Yoongi took your hand and pulled you away from the computers, towards to the bed, the same bed you two slept on, but didn’t touch, not like this. You only held hands or kissed gently. Late at night, when Yoongi was fast asleep, you would stare at his profile and wonder if he felt the same passion you felt, but it was weird to watch him sleeping, so you looked away and stared at the ceiling instead, thinking about him and his body against yours.

And now it was, his arms around you, pressing you to his chest, kissing your lips, cheeks, closed eyelids, making you laugh a little. Your fingertips on his back, tracing patterns, his gasp against your skin, cap falling off and tumbling to the floor, his black hair brushing your forehead.

“T-Touch me more…” he murmured.

He took your forearms and pushed them down, sliding your hands under his white shirt and then it was skin on skin, a needy noise between you two. With burning ears, you realized that was you, Yoongi’s hands on your shoulders as you explored his back, fingertips dancing up his spine, his pants in your ear, and then his fingers in your hair, messing it all up, rolling his body into yours.

Hardness.

You gasped, raising your thigh to press against it, and his hands slid down, and you looked up to see his half-lidded eyes hazy with desire.

“I want to follow your lead, Yoongi,” you breathed. “Any time you want to stop, we can stop.”

He nodded, leaning down to kiss you, deeper this time, tongue sliding in and playing with yours, your hands exploring the contours of his back. His skin, so soft, so lovely, smelling the vanilla and patchouli body wash you used because you shared the same shower and he used all your products. You shared so much with him, but there were some things you couldn’t share. Not yet. Not until he gave you his sign that he was ready.

You never told Yoongi, I love you.

The most precious words used in this world, turned to a poison dagger to hurt him, so you never said it, not until he was ready to hear it, not until he wanted to hear it. You knew Yoongi knew. You would hold his hand, draw a heart in his palm, small things like that, and he knew. He’d squeeze your fingers and smile a little smile and that was enough.

Maybe you were tiptoeing too much, but it was impossible to tell, because everyone is different and not even Yoongi himself knew what trivial actions or words would bring back unpleasant memories. He had spent so long repressing them that it was hard to tell reality from fantasy. He didn’t know what to be afraid of because he tried so hard to make them disappear.

You drew a small heart on Yoongi’s shoulder blade and he gasped, pulling you closer.

“I… like when you do that…” he mumbled, sounding a little embarrassed.

“Draw hearts?” you questioned, tilting your head.

“Yeah… on my skin…”

And then Yoongi surprised you.

He backed up a little and pulled his shirt over his head, taking your hands and placing them on his chest, not saying anything, but you could see it in his eyes, I don’t look very good, and you pressed your fingertips to his chest, over his beating heart, looking up at him.

“You will always be perfect to me, Yoongi.”

He gave you a wistful smile, believing you and not at the same time. “You have weird taste.”

You drew a small heart over his, feeling him shiver at your touch. You grinned brightly. “That’s how you know I’m devoted.”

He chuckled, closing one eye, looking sheepish. You waited, letting him work through the emotion, trying not to put himself down, taking it for what it was. It was not an easy thing to do. You had to be patient. Yoongi took your hand and pulled you to the bed, a familiar environment.

“I want to make you feel good,” he said.

“You don’t–”

“I want to,” Yoongi reaffirmed, looking you in the eye, determination in his tone. “I want my hard work to be the reason you feel good.”

You shouldn’t say it. Well, maybe it will lighten the mood. You struggled internally and then leaned forward, placing the back of your hand near your mouth.

“Hard work is a weird way to refer to your dick,” you whispered closely.

Yoongi burst out laughing, gums flashing, raspy and full, shoving you onto the bed. You bounced, hands flapping about, grinning at you own joke as Yoongi grabbed the bottom of your sweatshirt, yanking it up and over your head.

“This and your bad habit of moving your head at the same time as me–”

“It means we’re in sync!”

“I don’t want a concussion every time we make out,” Yoongi shot back, pinning your arms down and hovering over you, exasperated smile on his face.

He was so close.

Your grin slowly deflated, realizing that he was shirtless and you were shirtless, and Yoongi had you pinned down, gazing down at you with dark eyes and that open-mouthed smirk that was also disappearing, realizing he was on top of you, realizing this wasn’t innocent, realizing he was about to do something that should be normal but was made abnormal to him.

“You don’t have to do it,” you said gently.

“I know.” He looked at you under his black hair, messy and flat from being under the hat, brown eyes and pink lips standing out on his fair-skinned face. “But I want to.”

You always thought that parts of life were boring. It would be easier to fast forward and skip it.

But not with Yoongi.

He leaned down and kissed you, a kiss that you wanted to pause and live in forever, him inhaling you, pressing deeply, hands releasing your arms and cradling your head, his kisses like stars, precious light that brightened your whole world. But you also wanted to press play, kissing him back, your hands caressing his sides, drawing small hearts on his skin, your own heart swelling with the electricity of touching the one you loved, not knowing until now how nice it was, the simple sensation of dancing your fingers up his back and back down, his gasps on your skin, kissing down, down the curve of your neck and the swell of your breasts, so focused that his eyes were screwed shut and his brows were furrowed.

“Yoongi…”

His eyes opened slowly and Yoongi looked up at you with shaking pupils. Scared he was going to fuck up.

“It’s just me. You know, the one who dances like an octopus.”

His expression seemed to relax, turning into ruefulness. “How could I forget?”

“Should I wiggle a bit to jog your memory?” you teased.

“Please don’t.”

Your remark seemed to have calmed him, returning to your breasts, slipping the straps down, kissing along the curve of the cup, slipping his tongue under experimentally to make you jump, heart racing once more, a small smirk on his lips as he reached behind you and unhooked it, releasing them from their prison.

“O-oh!”

You yelped when Yoongi pulled your bra down, kissing your nipple directly, tingles flaring from the kiss, leaving you breathless as his tongue danced out, licking gracefully, slow circles that made you clench your jaw and tighten your core to avoid arching your back to get more. Yoongi seemed to sense your urgency and added more pressure, closing his lips around it, and your hands flew up, holding his head as carefully as possible but holy shit, holy shit, Yoongi’s tongue on you was pure ecstasy and he was doing it for you, showing his love for you and that’s why it felt so good, that’s why it was so fucking nice.

“Ah, fuck, Yoongi…”

He kissed to the other side, murmuring your name against your skin, seeped with desire and affection, pushing your wet nipple with one finger as he kissed the other, two points of pleasure that flowed through you, your gasps turning to moans, his hands coming up and encircling yours, lacing your fingers with his and holding them, whispering, faint, nearly silent, vibrating your sensitive skin with his lips and breath.

And then you heard it.

His whisper right above your heart and you looked down, Yoongi’s eyes looking up at you.

Apologetic for taking so long.

“I love you.”

If someone paused the tape right now, took it out, and your life ended right there, you would be okay with that. If that was the last moment in this world, if that was all that was and time stopped, you would be content.

But it wasn’t.

Play.

You smiled down at him, trying to prevent your voice from shaking.

“I love you too, Yoongi.”

The most precious words in the whole world.

“Should I stop?”

Your eyes widened. “N-no! I mean… if you’re…” You stopped speaking, seeing the playfulness sparkling in those dark eyes, pleased to have tricked you, even if only for a second.

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, lifting himself up to kiss you lightly. “I only wanted to see if you would be bothered.”

“I am very bothered,” you responded, peeved. “Hot and bothered, even.”

Yoongi lifted a brow, small amused smirk on his lips. “Come to think of it, me too.” He backed up and you lifted your chest, only to have Yoongi press down on your collarbones, worry flitting his face.

“What?”

“Don’t bonk my head.”

You grimaced. “I’m not a serial head bonker.” You lifted yourself up and Yoongi swung his head back, eyes flashing with mock fear. You pointed to the nightstand, rolling your eyes, and rummaged around in the drawer, feeling to the back and pulling out the small box.

“How old are those?”

Your cheeks flushed. “L-Last month!”

“You wanted to fuck me since last month?”

“N-No, obviously earlier, but I didn’t k-know if you ever wanted…” you trailed off, flapping your jaw, holding up said box, the condoms tumbling out. You panicked a little, not wanting him to think you were expecting too much, dropping the box and scrambling to collect the pile, the tip of your finger hitting the box at the exact spot that would cause it to fly off the bed and hit the wall.

You stared at it, betrayed.

Yoongi burst out laughing. “I can hear you talking to it,” he chuckled.

“I’m not saying anything!”

“You wanna fuck me?”

Your head snapped back, eyes widening. Yoongi tilted his head.

“Yes,” you blurted. “Well, yes, I mean, you’re so…” This was awkward. It didn’t used to be awkward but, also, you had never been this invested. Your eyes widened. You were invested in a person. Actually invested, invested in Min Yoongi. You looked up at him and he looked back curiously like a cat, not realizing your epiphany. Oh shit. Now this was even more weird.

Do something. Do something. Not that. Oh no, you’re doing it.

You held up the plethora of condoms. “Pick a card?”

Living alone made you too fucking weird.

“Aren’t they all the same?” Yoongi snickered.

You shifted, putting them back down on the bed. “Ahaha… right…” Your leg pressed against his and you jumped, startled. “You’re hard.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “When gorgeous tits are out, the human body reacts when there is attraction, even if you’re speaking nonsense.”

You blinked at him. “G-Gorgeous?”

Yoongi’s ears flushed pink and he reached over, ripping a condom off the others. “Y-Yeah…” He straightened, scooting back to between your legs, placing his hands on your shorts. “Ah… unless the mood is killed…”

“No,” you exclaimed, hands flying down to the waistband. “It is not. It is alive and well. Very well.”

Yoongi opened his mouth and shut it. Then he opened it again, smiling a little. “I’m beginning to think we are a bit strange.”

“it’s just because it’s the first time,” you rambled. “All first times are a bit strange.”

This wasn’t getting anywhere, so you yanked down your shorts and underwear at once, Yoongi gasping and snapping his head down as you kicked off your clothes, the sharp scent of your arousal suddenly very apparent. You felt your cheeks heat, unaware that you had such a strong reaction to Yoongi being above you, observing your wetness with round eyes, as if to say, I did that?

“Wow.” Yoongi raised his head, black bangs framing his beautiful eyes. “You’re stunning.”

Was it ever like this? Like every word was precious, every lyric in this song meaning more than the words themselves, like every single piece of the composition was perfect, special, everything pause-worthy, even the odd bits, you reaching up to cup his head, pulling Yoongi down for a kiss, him pushing his own pants down, sucking in a breath as your hand wrapped around him, moaning in his mouth, deepening the kiss, more erotic, more intense, his cock throbbing in your palm, getting harder by your touch, Yoongi whimpering in your mouth, backing off slowly, ripping the condom open, sliding it on, and you watching, oh, he’s beautiful there too.

“Thanks…?”

“… Uh, you’re welcome.”

You spoke out loud. Great.

“Do you need some prep?”

“Yoongi, please put it in before I say something stupid again–”

You cut yourself off as Yoongi pushed in slowly, both of you suddenly gasping at the sensation, you already wet enough because you had been thinking about this for so long, morning, night, morning, night, thinking about Yoongi, and if you could, if he was ready to have him inside you, filling you up, and it was happening, happening right now, sinking into you, looking into his eyes. And you could see the amazement, the wave of satisfaction that shimmered through his dark orbs, and the way Yoongi looked at you.

Like he was complete.

“I… oh, fuck…” His eyelids fluttered. “I might not be that good…”

“Are you kidding me, holy fuck, you feel fucking incredible,” you breathed, clenching around him, moaning softly at the perfection that was him, heart racing with every second. Your hands came up and held his cheeks, your breath hot and fluttering upwards. “You already feel so good, Yoongi. You can see it in my face, can’t you?”

His eyes searched yours, looking for the lie, the performance, but there was none, no need to lie when your hips were already slowly rocking into his, creating movement and pleasure, and he fell into the rhythm, complementing you. Your hands dropped and you put them over your head, grasping the pillows, letting out every cry and soft sound so Yoongi could hear and know this was the truth, your legs circling his slim waist. Yoongi bit his lip, breathing hard, whimpering a little.

“I mean… it’s been a while… and you feel too f-fucking good, oh fuck…”

You realized what he meant and you reached down with one hand, jolting as your fingertip touched your clit, rubbing it forcefully, shudders flying through you, gasping at your own stimulation, breasts pressing together, and Yoongi moaned, feeling you constrict and pulse around him, wetter, thrusting into you harder until there was a symphony of sound, heavy wanton breathing, slapping of skin on skin, chasing your climax as Yoongi chased his, eyes locked, almost there, almost there…

At the bridge.

Somehow you both knew the final chorus was coming.

“Yoongi…”

He breathed your name, drawing it out like the most precious word in this world.

You moaned deeply and it rushed through you, shooting up your torso and into your chest, an overwhelming pressure that took you under, making you throw your head back and gasp his name, pressing down on your clit to amplify every bolt of pleasure that made your muscles shake. Yoongi groaned, thrusting into you hard with his own gasp, cock jerking and shooting into the condom, surrounded by your suffocating embrace and you saw his eyes roll back a little, muscles in his arms tense, fingers bunching into the sheets, black hair sweaty and sticking to his face.

Hot breath mixing with yours, heavy pants of shared ecstasy.

“Whoa…”

His dark eyes flickered to yours, pupils blown out, blinking slowly as he exhaled. “W-What...?”

You felt your ears heat. “Oh… uh… it’s never been like that before. I’ve never felt… so much.”

A red flush bloomed over Yoongi’s cheeks. “Me neither…”

“Maybe we’re in love?” you offered lightheartedly.

A small smile grew on his lips. “Yeah, maybe.”

You began to raise yourself off the bed, but Yoongi put his hand on your collarbones quickly.

“Hold on. Let me get off first.”

“I’m not going to hit yo–“

“Ow!”

“Motherfuc–”

Press play.

-

fin.

--

masterpost

[lafourmii20]

That prompt list is so hard to choose from! Lots of good stuff on there!

Couldn’t go past #54 though for ironfroststrange! (Please and thank you 😊)

Thank you for the ask @knightryder24 🥰 I had a lot of fun writing for this prompt. It's probably not what you had in mind, but I hope you like it!

Sorry it took me so much time to answer. I hope that the fact it is 2k long (which is way more than my other answers to the intimacy prompts) will make up for it.

~~~

frostironstrange, tony stark, stephen strange, loki, morgan stark, fluff and awkwardness, chaste kissing, getting together

~~~

Date night was awkward. Well, what was he expecting, really? He invited Loki and Stephen to have dinner with him. The God of Mischief and the Sorcerer Supreme, together, in the same room with mere mortal Tony? Yeah, it was a sure recipe for trouble.

“More dessert?” he asked with not a small amount of unease.

“Oh, I would love to take your dessert, darling,” Loki purred suggestively, with glinting eyes and smirking lips, and there was no way he was talking about the chocolate cake offered to him.

Tony gulped.

“Thank you, Tony,” Stephen replied softly, taking a piece for himself and another for Loki, thankfully cutting through Loki’s aggressive flirting.

Tony lost himself for a second in Stephen’s mesmerizing blue-green eyes, took a little strength from the wizard’s calm demeanor, then shook his head. No, this was still a terrible idea. What was he thinking inviting them in his house?

Well, truth be told, it wasn’t his idea. Stephen suggested it, and Loki approved. So really, if anyone was to blame for the poor night they were all having, it wasn’t Tony.

But maybe it wasn’t such a bad evening. Sure, there were awkward silences, uneasy glances and shy blushes. But there were also good wine and great Asgardian ale. They talked about magic and science and technology, Asgardian customs that should be abandoned forever, and others that would do great to Earth societies. They discussed life, love, family and relationships.

They talked about their relationship.

Their weird relationship wasn’t exactly a new thing. They’d been dancing around each other for months now. Since Thanos, they had been getting closer and closer together. Tony just had to meet the Sorcerer who orchestrated everything and helped them to win. After screaming at him with all the strength of his lungs for not telling him what the plan was, Tony understood and tried to get to know the man better. They got along far better than he ever dared to imagine.

Tony met Loki in totally different circumstances. With a whole ass alien nation now settling on Earth, Tony got involved in the smooth integration of New Asgard. That was where he got to know Loki, and the mischievous God carved a place into his heart scarily quickly, if he were honest.

What he discovered with these two men was beautiful, just as broken as Tony was, but glorious (as Loki would love to say). It was a deep friendship that slowly evolved into something else, into something more.

Tony would never forget the day he held Stephen’s hand for the first time, carefully cradling his trembling fingers between his own. The trust in Stephen’s eyes took his breath away.

The strong hug he shared with Loki one afternoon, was also etched into his memory, a fond time and a show of vulnerability like no other. It was truly glorious.

Tony also knew Loki and Stephen exchanged a chaste kiss at the Sanctum, even though he didn’t know the details. He just found it infinitely endearing. But it brought some difficult questions to his mind.

“Why would I have to choose only one of you, when I adore you both?” Loki had asked incredulously one day, when Tony broached the subject of their weird three-way relationship. Then, the Asgardian seemed to remember. “Oh, I see. Your Midgardian’s customs limit your view on the matter. In Asgard, a relationship is only what the people involved want it to be. Be it between a man and a woman, or two men, or two women, or more than two people and all the combination you could ever imagine.”

“So what do you want?” Tony had asked.

Loki only answered with a broad devilish smile.

Stephen suggested the dinner date the next day, and Loki approved immediately. And there they were. In this awkward situation, navigating the troubled water of a brand new relationship. Tony was about to embark on a relationship with not only one, but two magical men, and his head was spinning. In anticipation. In fear. Elation. Love too.

Double the love, who would have thought, uh?

“How about we move this to a more comfortable location?” Loki asked, bringing Tony back to the present. “The couch, maybe?” He arched his eyebrows suggestively again, and Tony lost his words (again) turning bright red. The God of Mischief was really good at making Tony blush these days. Damn. Tony was losing all his smooth flirting when he was with them.

“Sure,” he said. Jeez, that was so lame. He definitely was losing his cool with them. “You go there,” he gestured toward the living room, “I’ll make coffee and tea for Stephen. Our good doctor can’t end an evening without his chamomile tea, the fiend. I’ll take care of it.”

Stephen rolled his eyes, but simply smiled at Tony’s antics, and he left the table with Loki, guiding him through the house with a gentle hand on the small of his back.

The gesture was overwhelmingly delicate and tender, and fondness surged through Tony’s heart.

Too much, it was too much.

Finally alone after all the awkwardness and tension, Tony breathed out, paused for one second, before getting in motion again. He couldn’t stay still and let his brain do his overthinking thing. Except, he couldn’t stop thinking as he made the drinks on autopilot, too focused on his own thoughts (and the two Sorcerers casually sitting on his couch) to care about what his hands were doing.

What the hell was he doing? After all the hardship in his life, he couldn’t settle for a simple retirement plan in his cabin by the lake, with Morgan, and Pepper? Well, Pepper wasn’t exactly here anymore. They couldn’t make it work together and that was sad, but it was life, right? Life sucked. But they had found a balance, between her new job in New York and his simple life by the lake, and their amazing daughter to raise. It wasn’t ideal, but it seemed to work for them.

And now, Tony wanted to complicate all this delicate balance with this new and weird relationship?

What was he thinking?

“Hey.” Stephen’s gentle voice interrupted Tony’s spiraling thoughts, and a shaking hand landed on his shoulder.

Tony turned to face the other man. The hand, still on his shoulder, calmed him a little, silenced his thoughts.

“Hi,” Tony whispered.

Stephen’s lips curled into a tender smile that warmed Tony’s heart. Red tinted his sharp cheekbones, from the wine and the Asgardian ale they shared earlier. His eyes glinted, maybe because he kissed Loki again on the couch while waiting for Tony. Oh, how he would love to join them and shut the voices in his head telling him this was a bad idea.

“Are you okay?” Stephen asked in his deep voice. “Is it too much, for you? We can leave if you want to. We would understand.”

“No!” Tony immediately blurted out. His hand came up to hold on to Stephen’s wrist. He was careful not to grip the fine bones too tight, and to avoid the delicate scarred fingers, but he couldn’t let go, couldn’t let Stephen (and Loki) leave him. He wanted them here, with him. Forever.

“Stay, please,” he finally said. “It’s just… It’s a lot. But I want you here.”

Tony’s heart fluttered at Stephen’s answering smile, the softest and loveliest curl of his lips. And his eyes shone so bright with affection. Maybe love?

Tony gripped Stephen’s wrist in his hand, drew him closer while getting on his tiptoes. There, he left a gentle kiss on Stephen’s cheek. A surprised yet pleased sound escaped Stephen’s lips and Tony couldn’t wait to hear all the beautiful noises he could get from this man. Loki would probably be impossible to shake, but maybe he might help Tony to fluster Stephen? That would be lovely. Tony couldn’t wait to have both men with him, in his bed, and suddenly he wasn’t so afraid of this whole situation anymore.

“Let’s go find Loki, before he burns my house to the ground,” he said.

“Absolutely,” Stephen laughed before putting his arm around Tony’s waist, and making his way to the living room.

Which was empty when they arrived.

“Lokes?”

Tony’s heart dropped. Did Loki leave? Did he already get tired of them and just left?

But then, Tony heard a high-pitched giggle and a low voice from the bedrooms. He frowned, then hurried upstairs, Stephen on his heels. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Loki. But he wasn’t sure how the God of Mischief would handle his daughter, and Tony wasn’t ready to take any risks with his sweet little Morgan.

But when he peeked through her bedroom door, Tony’s heart melted. Morgan was in her bed, carefully tucked under the covers. Loki sat on the floor beside her bed, a book on his lap, his soft voice lulling her to sleep with a story. Except, every few sentences, he stopped, made a comment about the improbability of the tale, or how his own adventures were far more interesting, and Morgan giggled with him. It seemed like she was getting less and less sleepy, completely defeating the purpose of the bedtime story in the first place.

Tony melted.

“What are you doing up, little miss? It’s past your bedtime, you should be sleeping.”

“Loki is reading me a story.”

He could see that. The great God of Mischief felt utterly out of place on the floor of the little room painted in all sorts of bubblegum-pink shades Morgan loved so much.

“The little munchkin wanted a bedtime story. I thought it would amuse her greatly to hear the story of how I defeated the great enemies of Asgard, but she wanted me to read this book instead.” He showed them the title and Tony repressed a giggle of his own—it was just too hilarious to imagine Loki reading a children’s book.

“This little red riding hood story is particularly gruesome. I love it,” Loki commented with a wide and devilish smile.

“It’s great,” Morgan commented from the bed. “But he’s not doing the voices.”

Loki pouted and this time, Tony truly laughed.

“Come on, darling,” Stephen said joining Loki on the floor. “You have to do the voices. I’ll be the wolf, you’ll be the grandma.”

Loki looked disgusted.

“Tony can be the grandma.”

“Sure, I’ll be the grandma. I have a mug that says ‘Best Grandma in the world’ in the kitchen’s cabinet, anyway.”

“Come here, Grandma,” Stephen gestured to him laughing.

Tony joined them on the floor. They were truly ridiculous, three grown men sitting on a pink carpet, with a children’s book between them. But Morgan was smiling with all her missing tooth and Tony was feeling all fuzzy inside. Like he was at the right place.

Finally.

Maybe the three of them together wasn’t such a bad idea.

Reading a fairytale with three opinionated men was a disaster. They were all reading atop of each other, commenting on the other voices — ‘The grandma isn’t that weak, Tony.’ ‘Yes she is, that’s why she gets eaten.’ ‘Spoiler alert!’ ‘Oh come on doc, you don’t have to make your voice so deep.’ ‘Show off.’ ‘Lokes, you’re cheating.’ ‘I’m not.’ ‘Using magic is cheating.’ ‘It sets the atmosphere.’ ‘Show off.’ ’Shut up, wizard.’

And yet, Morgan was smiling, Tony too, and when his daughter eventually fell asleep—by some miracle even his genius brain couldn’t explain—he was smiling even wider.

Maybe—definitely—this relationship wasn’t such a bad idea. So instead of ushering Loki and Stephen and their awkwardness from the beginning out the door, Tony led them to his bedroom. And what they did behind the closed door was only the beginning of their relationship.

~~~

Inspired by this intimacy prompt list (my ask box is still open for prompts (or anything else), just know that it might take me some time to answer prompts because I have other projects I need to focus on right now)

Prompts filled: 3. touching foreheads (ironstrangefrost) 7. kissing scars (ironstrange) 23. wearing someone’s clothing (ironstrange) 29. kissing while mad (ironstrange) 30. being protective (drpepperony) 47. cuddling under blankets (ironstrangefrost) 54. reading a book together (ironstrangefrost) 59. height difference (ironstrange)

Currently working on:

[vivaciouslady]

thank you to my dear @marilyn-monroes-jeans for tagging me in this ❤️

MUSIC

• favorite genre: this is so difficult because i listen a a lot of different things but probably 1930s-1950s standards, golden age musicals, or just whatever taylor swift is currently doing

• favorite artist(s): julie andrews, john denver, taylor swift, ginger rogers, soccer mommy, one direction (i yearn for the good old days), tchaikovsky, debussy

• favorite song: once again i have a TON but my favorite songs of all time is probably Farewell Andromeda by John Denver (the live version from An Evening With John Denver) and You’ll Be Reminded of Me (from Vivacious Lady) by Ginger Rogers

• most listened to song recently: either August by Taylor Swift or Old Cape Cod by Patti Page (both have the best end of summer in new england energy)

• song stuck in your head currently: the theme from Come September (1961)

• five favorite lyrics (not in any particular order):

- “Welcome to my evening, the closing of the day. You know I can try a million times never find a better way to tell you that I love you and all the songs I play are to thank you for allowing me inside your lovely day” Farewell Andromeda by John Denver

- “my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now i’m covered in you” Ivy by Taylor Swift

- “and when your heart is broken in two you’ll be reminded of me and i’ll be laughing… you’ll be reminded of me” You’ll Be Reminded of Me by Ginger Rogers

- “It's a bite of the apple, the touch of your lips. I'm stuck in the bathroom and sick over it” Scorpio Rising by Soccer Mommy

- “Birds love and bees love and whispering trees love, and that's what we both should do” He Loves and She Loves from Funny Face (1957), the original and the Julie Andrews Cover

radio or your own playlist | solo artists or bands | pop or indie | loud or silent volume I slow or fast songs | music video or lyrics video | speakers or headset | riding a bus in silence or while listening to music | driving in silence or with radio on

BOOKS

• favorite genre: classics and fantasy

• favorite book: Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen or Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine

• favorite author: Jane Austen

• favorite book series: Nancy Drew (but if you want an answer that’s more of an actual contained series i’d have to say Throne of Glass by Sara J. Maas)

• comfort book: The Complete Brambly Hedge by Jill Barklem

• the perfect book to read on a rainy day: We We’re Liars by E. Lockhart, Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen, or Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine

• favorite book characters: Anne Shirley, Elizabeth Bennet, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and Nancy Drew

• five quotes from your favorite book(s) that you know by heart:

- “That fool of a fairy Lucinda did not intend to lay a curse on me. She meant to bestow a gift. When I cried inconsolably through my first hour of life, my tears were her inspiration. Shaking her head sympathetically at Mother, the fairy touched my nose. ‘My gift is obedience. Ella will always be obedient. Now stop crying, child.’ I stopped.” Ella Enchanted

- “In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” Pride and Prejudice

- “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.” Pride and Prejudice

- “He loved me. He'd loved me as long as he he'd known me! I hadn't loved him as long perhaps, but now I loved him equally well, or better. I loved his laugh, his handwriting, his steady gaze, his honorableness, his freckles, his appreciation of my jokes, his hands, his determination that I should know the worst of him. And, most of all, shameful though it might be, I loved his love for me.” Ella Enchanted

- “There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense.” Pride and Prejudice

hardcover or paperback | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | reading at night or during the day | reading at home or in the nature | listening to music while reading or reading in silence | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by the summary | rereading or reading just once

TV & MOVIES

• favorite genre: for films it has to be rom-coms or just anything old hollywood in general (i know that’s not a genre) and for TV i like dramas and comedies

• favorite movie(s): Vivacious Lady (1938), The Sound of Music (1964), Stage Door (1937), and The Dream Lady (1918)

• comfort movie(s): (I have so many i’m sorry this isn’t even all of them) Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging (2008), Ever After (1998), BBC’s Pride and Prejudice (1995, yes I know this is a miniseries), Funny Face (1957), Summer Magic (1963), The Parent Trap (1961), The Philadelphia Story (1940), Curly Top (1935), The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement (2004), Come September (1961), Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House (1948), Cinderella (1997), Sense and Sensibility (1995), The Last Jedi (2017), and all my favs

• movies you watch every year: White Christmas (1954), Auntie Mame (1958), Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954), Legally Blonde (2001), and literally all of my comfort movies (if i’m being honest all of these are comfort movies as well i’m a mess)

• favorite tv shows: Derry Girls, Downton Abbey, New Girl, The Julie Andrews Hour, Gilmore Girls, Gossip Girl (original), The X-Files, Criminal Minds, Sex Education, M*A*S*H, and The Haunting of Bly Manor

• most rewatched tv show: I think Derry Girls and Gossip Girl are probably tied for this one

• ultimate otp: oh my god obviously jamie and dani 🥺 (but also mary/matthew and mulder/scully my loves) EDIT: HOW DID I FORGET JEAN MAITLAND AND TERRY RANDALL OH MY GOD I WAS ONLY THINKING ABOUR TV BUT THEY ARE MY OTP

• five favorite characters:

from tv shows - Mary Crawley, Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, James Maguire, Orla McCool

from movies - Francey Brent/Morgan, Danielle De Barbarac, Maria von Trapp, Mame Dennis, Mia Thermopolis

bonus: Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy from the 1995 adaptation because it’s technically not a movie or tv show it’s a miniseries

tv shows or movies | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or binging | one season or multiple seasons | one part or saga | half hour or one hour long episodes | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once | downloads or watches online

oh wow okay that was so long!! i’m (no pressure) tagging: @retrodame @johnsonshildy @norashelley @chantalstacys @glamourofyesteryear @lickingyellowpaint <3 (sorry if you have already done this tag)

[modern-inheritance]

3: What’s your favorite line of narration? 4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

Oooo, nice choices Anon!

I'll be honest and say that I couldn't think of anything off the top of my head that fit just ONE line of either. There is, however, a (long, I'll admit) chunk of Collateral that I'm rather keen on for narration. I'll pull out some of my favorite bits.

She sighed, and with a flick of her wrist threw the pebble down like a dart. It gouged a crater into the compacted, sandy soil, the quiet thud and depth of the impact betraying her unearthly strength.

Realization dawned on the older Rider, and he pinched his cigarette between his pointer and thumb as he drew a long, deep pull and gathered his thoughts. He exhaled slowly, a heavy sigh of memories that were only partly repressed by the nicotine’s taste in his mouth, before slipping a hand into his pocket and peering up at the half concealed stars above.

Arya’s tone was harsh, laced with the bitterness of failure and a vehement streak of self-hatred that the elf rarely let out into the open.

With a soft pat, Brom dropped his free hand onto Arya’s head. The touch was sudden, so much so that the elf nearly jerked away until she felt the tension in the man’s muscles, the miniscule tremors that the cigarettes couldn’t suppress. (...) He knew. The memories still hurt plenty. He couldn’t let them go either.

As for dialogue, that's even harder. Dialogue is tricky for me. I try to show interaction between characters without words, since a lot of them, particularly Brom and Arya, Eragon and Saphira, etc, have known each other for so long or so well that most of their communication is without speaking.

I will say, though, that most of the interactions between Brom and Murtagh are my favorites. Their mixed emotions over each other are so convoluted that it always creates an interesting dynamic, and they never really learn how to deal with each other.

But if you want my favorite non-serious dialogue? Definitely these lines from Eragon Being a Dumbass (Fill):

Eragon, high AF: Why do you smell like…oooooh like cotton candy?

Murtagh, about done with his shit: Because I was born in a cotton candy factory.

Eragon: Woooooow! Are you made of cotton candy? About to bite Murtagh's arm*

Murtagh: Don’t you DARE–

Thanks for the ask, anon! sorry it was a bit more complicated/longer than the actual ask questions. I get carried away.

[hopelikethemoon]

A Thing for You (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: A Thing for You Rating: Explicit  Length: 3300 Warnings: Smut (f receiving fingering, pregnancy sex, girl on top, and cock warming if you squint) Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. And release order here. Set at some point between January and February 1993. Shout out to Tiernan once again for yelling at me for this. Entirely unbeta’d or pre-read.  Summary: Reader wakes up to Javier talking to their baby.

Taglist:  @grapemama​​  @seawhisperer​ @huliabitch​ @pedropascalito​ @rogrsnbarnes​ @thewallpapergoesorido​ @twomoonstwosuns​ @gooddaykate​ @livasaurasrex​ @ham4arrow​ @hiscyarika​ @plexflexico​ @readsalot73​ @hdlynn​ @lokiaddicted​ @randomness501​ @fioccodineveautunnale​  @roxypeanut​ @just-add-butter​ @snivellusim​ @amarvelousmandalorian​ @lukesrighthand​ @historynerd04​ @mrsparknuts​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @exrebelshocktrooper​ @awesomefandomsunited​​ @ah-callie​​ @swhiskeys​​ @lady-tano​​ @beskar-droids​​ @space-floozy @cable-kenobi​​ @longitud-de-onda​​ @cool-ultra-nerd​​ @himbopoes​​ @findhimfives​​ @pedrosdoll​​ @seeking-a-great--perhaps​​ @frietiemeloen​​ @arrowswithwifi​​ @random066​​ @uncomicalhumour​​ @heather-lynn​​ @domino-oh-damn​​ @cyarikaaa​​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​​  @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx​ @punkass-potato​ @coredrive​ @pascalesque​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​ @queenquazar​ @sabinemorans​ (if I forget to tag you, I’m sorry)

“I didn’t know I could love someone without even knowing them yet.” Javier’s voice broke through the silence of your bedroom. 

You had been somewhere in between awake and asleep for a few minutes now, but he didn’t know that. You had been listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, enjoying the feel of his fingers as he traced them over your stomach. Maybe he had been talking before too — you seemed to remember hearing his voice in your dreams. Quiet murmurs as he spoke to your unborn daughter. 

In the last few weeks, you had really ‘popped’. The bump was no longer something you could easily conceal. It had turned into a full-fledged pregnancy belly and none of your trousers fit anymore. You hated going to work wearing the ill-fitting maternity dresses that made you look like an old woman headed to a church potluck. They were hideous. 

But Javier seemed to really enjoy the change. Whenever you were alone at home, he’d find reasons to touch you. Even if it was the whisper of a touch as he passed by you in the kitchen. His hands were always on your belly, tracing his fingertips over the newly forming stretch marks that marred your skin.

The way he looked at you made you feel like the sexiest woman in the world. Even at work. 

“I can’t wait to hold you, little one.” Javier murmured, stroking his hand over the bottom of your belly as he shifted to press a kiss to your skin. “But I’m so afraid.” 

Your heart clenched as you listened to him. You should’ve told him you were awake, but he sounded so open and honest with your daughter. You wanted to know what he said when he thought you were asleep. 

“What if you see?” Javier questioned, resting his palm against your stomach. “What if you look up at me and you see that…” His voice wavered, “I’m not a good man. These hands have done terrible things. Don’t know how I’m worthy to ever hold you with them.” He pressed his forehead to the curve of your side. “I don’t deserve either of you.” He whispered, stroking his fingers over your skin again. “I wanna do right by both of you, princesa.” 

You tried to remain motionless, to keep up the ruse that you were asleep. You wanted to know these innermost thoughts that Javier kept so close to the chest. 

“I love your mother.” Javier said with a quiet urgency. “What if it isn’t enough? I wouldn’t blame her for leaving me. All these years and she’s seen the shit I’ve done. Knows me better than anyone else.” He sighed heavily. “It would break my heart, but I couldn’t hate her for it. She could leave tomorrow and… I’d miss you both.” He pressed another kiss to your stomach and you tried to repress the well of emotion rising up in the back of your throat. 

You already knew that he feared this. Feared that you’d leave him. You had, after all, left him that morning. But hearing him admit it so earnestly to your baby… It hit differently and it fucking hurt. You wanted to comfort him.

But right now, your daughter was comforting him. 

“It scares the shit out of me,” Javier admitted, keeping his palm pressed to your stomach. His voice had woken her up, the first flutter of a hand or a foot — and then a more steady movement. “Hi, baby girl.” He murmured, his voice so full of affection it made you want to weep. Your emotions were already running so high and he was just driving it home. “I hope you know how much I love you, little one. Almost as much as I love your mother.”

You wanted to wind your fingers through his messy hair, to slide your hand over his back and quietly assure him that you loved him too. That you couldn’t fathom a life without him in it. He’d been such a steady and ever-present figure in your life since you came to Colombia and… you’d always loved him. First as a partner, then as a friend, and now… as the father of your child. 

When you dated Lance, he’d once broached the topic of children. He came from a large family. He had a slew of nephews and nieces. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t picture yourself as the mother of his children. Being a mother was already a complicated scenario for you —  but somehow, with Javier… you could see it. 

You could picture a baby girl with his warm eyes and dark curls. 

Somehow, deep down, you’d always known he was ‘the one’. 

“I’m not a good man,” Javier continued as he rubbed his hand over your stomach, his thumb rubbing little circles against your skin. “But I wanna be better for you and your mother.” The baby kicked again and you couldn’t prevent the way you inhaled sharply at the slight pain that came with the movement. 

You felt Javier tense beside you. “Baby?”

You reached down and dragged your fingers through his hair, “I’m awake, Javi.”

“Did I wake you up?” He questioned. 

“It’s hard to sleep when someone’s kicking your kidney.” You laughed quietly, trailing your fingers over his cheek. “Come here.” 

Javier kept one hand on your stomach as he moved back up the bed and settled down beside you. “Did you…” The words stuck in the back of his throat, his eyes seeking out yours in the dim light that filtered in through the streetlights beyond your bedroom window. 

Rather than admitting to him that you had heard everything he’d confessed to your unborn child, you cupped his cheeks and leaned in to kiss him. It was a soft kiss at first, one meant to offer comfort, but it blossomed into something more. You wanted to prove how much you cared for him. How unfounded his worries were. 

But you had your own. Because he was right — you did know his past. You knew what kind of man he was. He worried that you would cut and run and you feared the same. Relationships weren’t his strong suit. 

Javier nipped at your bottom lip as he drew back, eyes seeking out yours in the darkness. “I love you.” He whispered, his nose brushing against yours as he spoke. 

Those three words still felt so new to you. Javier never failed to remind you that he loved you. It wasn’t always in words, either. Sometimes he said it simply with a gentle touch or in a longing look. In the way he held you. He had said it all along. 

How many times had he looked at you and left you wondering what that look meant? Now you knew. 

“I love you.” You told him, surging forward to kiss him again. You pressed yourself as close to him as you could, the swell of your stomach pressed against him. His hand skimmed over your skin, trailing down over your side before he grabbed at your hip. The contrast of his gentle caresses, in tandem with the tight grip of his fingers as he held you made you burn.

Heat blossomed low in your belly, a flush of desire pooling between your thighs. There was one thing to be said about being pregnant… All Javier had to do was look at you just right and you were hot for him. 

“Javi,” You started, breathing raggedly as you broke away from the kiss, pressing your forehead to his. You dragged your fingers through his hair, before you curled them around the back of his neck. “I need you.” 

“Baby, can you roll over for me?” Javier questioned, brushing his lips to yours as he tilted his head to kiss you once more. 

“How do you want me?” You questioned, brows drawn together as he loosened the grip he had on your hip. 

“On your side.” 

You rolled onto your back briefly before you rolled onto your side, facing away from him. Your heart was hammering in your chest as Javier curled in close behind you. You could feel the hardening length of his cock pressed against your ass. 

“I wish you knew how gorgeous you look.” Javier muttered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he curled his hand around your hip once more, his hand skimming downwards over your bare thigh, just below the hem of your sleep shorts. “So fucking gorgeous, baby.” 

You rocked your ass back against him, grinding against his erection. “I never took you for the type to have a thing for pregnant women.” You teased him, drawing your tee shirt up over your stomach, a quiet moan escaping you as Javier ran his fingers over the swell of your stomach. 

“I have a thing for you.” Javier said lowly, nipping at your earlobe as his hands continued to wander over your newly bared skin. “You look like the sort of vision men would lose themselves to worship.” 

“I guess it’s a good thing I only want you to worship me then.” You said lowly as you turned your head and caught his lips in a too-brief kiss. The position wasn’t the best for kissing him the way you wanted to kiss him. 

Instead you focused on the way Javier’s hand slid downwards. The path his fingers took over your inner thigh as he slid it beneath the hem of your sleep shorts. With a ghost of a touch his fingertips brushed over the damp crotch of your underwear. He groaned, “Fuck, you’re wet.” His lips traced along the column of your throat. “You’re so fucking wet, baby.” 

Your lips parted to respond, but instead a breathy moan escaped you as he cupped you through the thin fabric of your underwear. He dragged one finger over the seam of your sensitive folds, parting them beneath the fabric. 

Javier’s other hand slid beneath you, fingers loosely curling around your throat as he kept you pressed back against him. “Are you going to come for me, baby?” He questioned, his voice rough with desire as he worked his fingertip over that sensitive little bundle of nerves. The sensation was muted by the barrier of your underwear and yet it made your entire body tingle with desire. 

He knew how sensitive you were like this. 

Your hips rocked into his touch, moaning loudly as you felt your inner walls clench around nothing. It was almost unfair how easily he could make you come. How he could stroke your clit with such a skilled touch. How the rough timber of his voice and the way his fingers curled around your throat made you even slicker with desire. 

Your back arched, your shoulders pressing back against his chest as he kept his finger right on your clit. It was almost too much stimulation. Your cunt clenching desperately around nothing as you shattered for him. And he didn’t let up. He let you grind back against his cock as he pushed you towards a second orgasm, right on the back of your first. 

“Javier.” You hissed out, grabbing at the hand that was curled around your throat. “I wanna ride you. I wanna see you.” 

A groan rose up in the back of his throat as he released his hold on you. 

You felt the bed dip behind you as he moved to rid himself of his boxers as you sat up to turn the bedside lamp on. 

“Much better.” Javier mused as you were cast in the golden light of the lamp. He moved towards you, his arms snaking around your middle. You leaned back against his chest, lifting your hips up as he worked your sleep shorts and underwear down your hips. “You look so fucking good.” 

A breathless laugh escaped you as you turned to face him, “What a sweet talker,” You teased. “You’re just saying that because you want me on your cock.” 

Javier shook his head, “I’m saying it because you’re gorgeous baby.”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you held his gaze. You knew he was telling the truth. Everything about the way he looked at you told him he was sincere. You might feel self-conscious about the shape of your body, but he was willing to worship every inch of it. “Lay back, Javi.” 

He kissed your shoulder, before he scooted back on the bed, reclining back against the pillows. Your eyes raked over his bare torso, wandering downwards towards his hardened cock as it rested against his stomach, leaking with want. 

“Tell me, Javi. I want to hear you.” You urged as you moved to straddle his thighs, your fingers curling around his cock and languidly stroking him. You watched his face with hunger burning in your eyes. “Tell me.”

His lips parted, a low groan escaping him as he watched you working your fist over his cock. His hands skimmed up your thighs and over your hips. “Baby, I’ve always thought you were gorgeous, but like this? Fuck. It’s all I think about at work, baby.” His voice came out low and strained, “You drive me crazy.” 

You smirked at his praise. There was something about the sincerity in his praise that warmed every inch of your skin. “I guess it’s payback for all the times I’m left to take care of my own urges.” You said lowly, rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock, gathering up the pre-cum that leaked from him before bringing it to your lips. 

Javier’s hands tightened at your hips, prompting you to rise up on your knees and move to straddle him fully. You kept your fingers curled around the base of his cock, holding him steady as you sank down onto him. You were practically dripping with your need for him. Your inner walls fluttering around the thick length of him as it finally had something to clench around in the wake of your releases. 

You leaned forward, trying to kiss him, but your stomach was in your way. 

“I’ve got you baby,” Javier drawled out as he sat up slowly, keeping you seated in his lap as he drew his knees up behind you.

You cupped his cheeks as you sat nose-to-nose with him. You searched his eyes, silently conveying the depths of your love for him. You wanted him to know that you thought he was a good man and that was all that mattered. This thing was fresh and new, but you had always known who he was. Even when he couldn’t see it. 

Your fingers curled around the back of his neck, playing with the soft hair at his nape as you kissed him. It started soft, at first, but the desire grew as your mouths slanted against each other, drive by need. You rolled your hips, clenching around his cock as you worked yourself up and down the length of him. There was no haste to your movements as you savored every inch of him. 

His hands skimmed over your back and along the curve of your stomach. There was no part of you that he didn’t touch and worship like he had said. 

“You feel so good.” He breathed out as you broke away from his lips for air. “I fucking love this pussy, baby.” Javier panted, thrusting upwards as you sank down onto him. 

You tugged at his hair as it slipped between your fingers, “Yes.” You hissed out through clenched teeth. “Come on, Javi.” You urged, clenching around him as you slid back down. “I wanna feel you.”

“Fuck.” He grunted, his hands palming roughly at your ass as he guided your movements. “You keep doing that and I’m not gonna last muc—”

You caught his bottom lip between your teeth with just enough pressure to make him groan, a sound that turned even more feral as you tightened around him. You knew he was close, you could see it in his eyes and in the tremble of his thighs beneath your own. Every downward roll of your hips was pushing him closer and closer to the edge. 

“I said I wanna feel you, Javi.” You reminded him, twisting his hair between your fingers as you held his gaze. The look of relief that washed over his face as he came for you made a fresh wave of desire pulse through you. 

He let his head fall forward, his forehead resting against your breastbone as he came down from the high of his release. You clenched around him, milking every drop of pleasure from him as his cock softened within you. 

“Lean back, baby.” Javier murmured as he pressed his lips to the hollow of your throat. He brushed his nose up the column of your throat, “Let me make you feel good too.” 

You dragged your fingers through his ruffled hair once more before you leaned back against his knees. “You always make me feel good, Javi.” You assured him, peeling off your tank the rest of the way. You couldn’t stand your breasts being touched currently, but you knew he enjoyed looking at them. 

His eyes raked over your newly bared skin, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip as his gaze flickered back to your eyes. “You look so pretty sitting on my cock, baby.” He drawled out, shifting his hips beneath you. “So fucking pretty.” He ran his hand over your belly before trailing it lower, seeking out that bundle of nerves just above where his cock was. 

You let your eyes fall closed, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you savored his touch. You were so sensitive. And he was so good at winding you up. “Javi.” You breathed out, lifting your hips slightly, still working yourself over his cock as his thumb circled your clit.

“Come on, baby.” Javier urged quietly. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.” 

His name fell from your lips as you came spiraling apart for him. Your back arching, pressing back against his legs as your release washed through you. You weren’t the least bit ashamed by how vocal you were as a moan rose up from the back of your throat as you rode out your orgasm.

Javier pulled you down with him as he laid back on the bed. As much as you wanted to stay slumped against him, your stomach wouldn’t allow it. You reluctantly let his cock slip from you, mourning the loss of it as you rolled onto your side beside him. 

“Holy shit.” He panted out. 

You actually giggled as you pressed your lips to his shoulder. “What can I say?” You teased softly, trailing your fingers over his chest as you laid there. “I was in the mood.”

“You sure as hell were.” He quipped, raking his hand over his face before he tilted his head to look at you. “You good?”

You nodded your head, “I’m perfect.” You promised him, running your finger down the length of his nose. “Javi—”

“Yeah?”

You smiled at him, “We both love you.” 

It was a quiet way of letting him know that you had heard him, without truly making him face his worries. 

“I love both of you too.” He whispered, rolling onto his side to face you so he could rest his hand against your stomach. “So much.” 

“I know.” You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “You’re going to be a good father, Javi.” 

He didn’t respond to that, closing his eyes and leaning forward until your foreheads were pressed together. “You should go back to sleep, baby.” 

“Only if you promise to sleep too.” 

“I will.” He assured you, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. 

“Okay.” You said softly, turning to kiss his palm before you rolled onto your other side so he could curl himself around you with his face pressed into the crook of your neck. Sometimes it hurt your heart just how much you cared about him. How much you had always cared about him. 

[ellewritesathing]

(Un)Requited  -   I.L    IV

Summary: Isaac Lahey had gone through many twists and turns in his life, but none of them compared to the whiplash he got when you asked him to tutor you. With a few weeks until the end of the semester and the big dance coming up, he’s hoping to figure out a way to ask you to go with him before it’s too late.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 4

Word-count: 3.4k+

A/N: i’m still working on the last part of this fic so i’ll probably only update again in a week or two!! sorry guys 💕

Things between you and Isaac had been weird ever since he walked away from you that day on the lacrosse field. His jokes were delivered a little more awkwardly, your laughter was a few seconds shorter, and whenever it felt like the tension was starting to dissipate, your phone would light up and Stiles’ name would be on your screen. Isaac hated it. 

He hated the anger he carried around in his chest all the time. He hated how jealous he was of Stiles. Most of all, he hated that his relationship with you was fucked because he couldn’t get over a stupid crush. Sure, it was a crush he’d had since he was ten, but it was just a crush. He shouldn’t have let it, for lack of a better word, crush him like this. 

Isaac was busy shoving some books into his overpopulated locker when he felt a very familiar tap on his shoulder. 

When he turned, you were beaming at him with such warmth and familiarity that Isaac forgot that things were weird between you for a second. “Guess what.” Your voice barely contained your excitement.  

“Greenberg walked into a locker again?” Isaac asked, deliberately stalling to keep you around him a bit longer.

You laughed and shoved his arm playfully. “No, silly.” You made the booklet of paper in your hands dance and pressed it into his hands. Your hands were cool to the touch. Probably guessing that he was paying more attention to the physical contact than whatever was on the paper, you pointed to the top  corner of the page and said, “Look!”

Isaac repressed a laugh but he still smiled at you before looking down at the paper. It was an algebra test with a B+ in big, red block letters and an extra credit assignment with a perfect score. “No way!” Isaac grinned and pulled you into a hug. “See, I told you that you could do it!”

Your arms wrapped around his waist and you laughed into his chest. Slowly, you looked up at him and tapped his chest lightly. “Yeah, but I never could have done it without you,” you said.  

For a moment, it was like the whole world slowed down, leaving you and Isaac alone in the quiet hallway. Isaac almost could have sworn your heart was beating as fast as his was, but that wouldn’t make any sense. There was no reason for your heart to beat faster because of Isaac.

But Stiles showed up before Isaac had a chance to figure out why your heart was beating like that and you pulled away. 

“Hey.” He drew the word out in that annoying voice of his. Stiles was unusually easy-going considering that he hated Isaac and he was dating you, and the two of you had been tangled up not even a moment before. “What are we celebrating?” 

You'd pulled away from Isaac so that you were only holding onto him with one hand, just barely around his lower back, as you handed Stiles your test. “I’m almost an A student. You know, I’m thinking of changing my career goals from trophy wife to mathematician.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short. You could totally be a trophy wife and a mathematician,” Stiles said with an aggravating smile. He was so good at saying stuff like that that it drove Isaac up a wall.

You laughed and pretended to be offended as you grabbed your test back. You let go of Isaac to harass Stiles but you soon enough you were laughing and nestling yourself under Stiles’ arm. His fingers interlaced with yours easily as you said something equally charming and witty to him. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Stiles rolled his eyes and smiled at you. His thumb grazed yours as he tilted his head down, almost bumping his forehead into your head. “You sure I can’t convince you to grab lunch with me and Scott? We could ditch Scott.” 

You let out a self-conscious laugh and ducked your head. “As tempting as that offer is…” you untangled yourself from Stiles and took a step back from him. “Isaac and I have a date with some suits.”

Not that kind of date, Isaac reminded himself as he gave Stiles his best attempt at a friendly smile. Judging by Stiles’ reaction, it came out as more of a grimace.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Stiles scratched the side of his face. “Cutting the dance prep a little short, aren’t you?” 

Isaac straightened up and tried to get the venom out of his voice. “Yeah, well, we had some unexpected interruptions. You don’t mind though, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Stiles said, not sounding defensive, exactly, but definitely not as easy-going as before. He looked over at you and squeezed your hand as he said something about catching up with you later. 

You took a deep breath and ran your hand through your hair as Stiles disappeared into the sea of hormonal teenagers. “So-” you stepped closer to Isaac and gave him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Ready to go?”

If Isaac was honest, he’d tell you that the absolute last thing he ever wanted to do was go shopping for a suit that he didn’t want to wear to a dance he didn’t care about, but he couldn’t be honest with you - not about his feelings, and not about this dance - because you were trying. 

Isaac wanted to try, too. He really did, but Isaac's problem was that he wasn’t as good as you. Then again no one was as good as you, but still. Isaac had to try or he’d lose you again. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” The closing of Isaac’s locker punctuated his lie better than his smiling grimace ever could. 

If you noticed his bad mood - which might have been difficult considering how Isaac was almost always in a bad mood these days - you were nice enough not to mention it as the two of you made your way through the school to the parking lot. Instead, you told him more about your classes and how Greenberg did, in fact, walk into a locker earlier that day. 

There was an anxious lilt to your voice as you talked about your English paper that Isaac didn’t recognize. Sure, he’d seen you be nervous before tests and that first day in the hallway, but this was different. That had been unsure while this was second-guessing. That had been butterflies, and this was a sinking feeling.

Isaac couldn’t wrap his head around what could have been making you anxious. You were happy about your grades, you’d been excited about your parents leaving you home alone so they could check on Alex for the weekend, and you had Stiles. With all that, plus the dance coming up, you shouldn’t have been anxious. 

And yet there you were, mumbling curse words under your breath when people cut you off on the road and hiding a frown behind a tight smile as you pulled into a parking space.

You killed the engine and sighed as you turned to Isaac. “Hey, so I’ve gotta tell you something about Stiles-” 

“Why are we outside a thrift store?” Isaac asked as he peered through the windscreen. 

The store was cute. Bright sunflowers painted next to yellow letters that swirled together to spell ‘Anne’s Next to New Clothing and Trinkets.’ A white table with a flower arrangement and some of the aforementioned trinkets. Through the window, Isaac could make out a little girl trying on about a dozen necklaces while her dad apologized to the person behind the counter. Cute, but it didn’t make sense. 

Isaac turned to look at you when he realized that he’d interrupted you and you probably thought he was the most self-absorbed idiot in the world. You were staring at him with wide eyes as if to prove his point. 

“I’m sorry, I-” 

“No, don’t be sorry.” Your surprise melted into a nervous laugh and you dropped your gaze for a moment. When you looked back at him, your smile had softened into something smaller, something more genuine. “Since our mall trip ended so badly, I thought we could try something else.” 

Isaac gave you a lazy smile and nodded his head to the store. “Something next to new?” 

You scrunched up your face and groaned, putting your face in your hands. “Ugh, this was a dumb idea, wasn’t it? We can leave. Give me a sec to pull out-” 

“No. No, that’s not what I meant-” Isaac reached over to grab your hands before he realized what he was doing. With one touch, it was like you erased the entire world that existed outside your car. It was just you, Isaac, and a whole bunch of electricity. “I just meant,” he said quietly, “that it was really nice of you to do this for me. I’m not really used to people doing nice things for me.”

“Well, get used to it because I’m not going anywhere,” you told him. Your words were quiet but your smile was playful. “Come on.” You tilted your head to the door and pulled away. 

Isaac tried to get his heart to beat normally again as your door clicked open and thumped close behind you. He took two deep, steady breaths, then shook his head and met you at the front of your car. 

You rocked back and forth on your heels as you waited for him. With a nervous smile, you led Isaac inside. The bell chimed as you opened the door, ringing in Isaac’s head as you greeted the cashier, and Isaac went on the awkward defensive again. He ran his hands along the swaths of fabric as the two of you made your way through the store. Felt, polyester, cotton, and wool greeted his fingertips until Isaac stopped in the formalwear section. 

Old dresses mixed with a bizarre assortment of wedding attire and four suits, two with three pieces and each a different color to the last. Isaac took his eyes off the suits to find you trying to hide your glances at him. Isaac didn’t bother to hide his amusement at your secrecy. 

“What?” You laughed when you caught Isaac waiting for you to steal another look at him. You tucked some hair behind your ear without thinking about it. 

Isaac smiled, stifling another laugh. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“No, but you want to.” You looked at Isaac with an expression he couldn’t place. Friendly, playful, but just as he tried putting a better word to it, you looked away. Turning your attention to a gray suit, you waved Isaac over. “What do you think of this one?” 

Isaac sighed as he made his way over and tilted his head to get a better look at the suit. “I mean, it’s not terrible,” Isaac said, running his hands up the lapel. 

You laughed and bumped your arm into Isaac’s. “Well, high praise for this one aside,” you teased, “maybe we should find something a notch above ‘not terrible’ for the big night.”

“Whatever you say,” Isaac said with a smile. The one suit was a baby blue, which instantly struck it out of Isaac’s book and left him with two black options. Boring, yes, but that’s what made them safe. 

Nevertheless, you ushered Isaac into the changing room with his two boring suits and made him promise to take his time so you could try and pick something out for yourself. The thought of you waiting for him made Isaac’s stomach lurch, but he still promised to give each suit a fair chance. 

The first suit was a slightly snug; not awful looking, but not the most comfortable. If Isaac was going to be wearing this thing all night in a crowd full of sweaty teenagers, then he was going to need something with a little more breathing room for his inevitable panic attack. 

So, shoving away the thoughts of how ridiculous this whole thing was, Isaac changed into the other suit. The button-up was missing a few buttons but he could sew new ones with minimal effort. It fit better than the other one had and didn’t cut off his air supply. Plus, the waistcoat somehow made him look less like a scrawny kid playing dress-up and more like someone who actually had it together. 

Looking at himself in this suit, Isaac could imagine himself as the kind of guy you’d have feelings for. Not a guy like Stiles because that would make him throw up, but someone charming. Maybe even eloquent. The kind of guy that didn’t live in his older brother’s shadow or own three different copies of Persuasion (one was a library book he forgot to return, one had been his mom’s, and the other just had a nicer cover than the rest). 

In this suit, Isaac had a nicer cover than he usually did.

Realizing that he’d probably spent like five minutes just staring at himself and twisting one of the broken buttons, Isaac raced to get changed. He threw the suit to the side and jumped into his jeans and pulled on his baggy gray t-shirt. Isaac was in the process of pulling on his hoodie and forcing the suit back onto its hanger when he stepped out of the changing room and almost knocked you off your feet. 

Reflexively, Isaac grabbed you to keep you from falling over. He stammered out several apologies as his heart exploded, but all you did was laugh. 

“It’s okay, promise,” you said with a smile. You held onto Isaac as you got back to your feet. After several seconds of awkward silence, you asked, “So did either of them come out ‘not terrible?’”

“Uh, yeah.” Isaac held out the crumpled suit to you. “This one’s not so bad.” 

“Not so bad,” you echoed, taking the suit from Isaac and smoothing it out. “We’ll take it!”

Isaac couldn’t help but laugh. You were adorable and very, very far out of his league. Still, he hung up the rejected suit and met you at the counter to pay. 

He was so preoccupied with thoughts of accidentally injuring you that he didn’t notice that you’d already bought something. When Isaac asked about it over celebratory frozen yogurt, all you said was that you needed something for the dance, too. 

---

Isaac had never been someone with high hopes. He’d given up on anticipating the future ever since he was thrown into a grave and turned into a werewolf; but, still, he found himself with some very unrealistic expectations of how the dance would go. Chief of which being that you’d ditch Stiles and confess your undying love to Isaac. 

Actually, not ‘undying’ love because the universe might take that as a sign to make you immortal or something, and that kind of information wasn’t something Isaac thought he could recover from. 

His other expectations, supernatural dilemma aside, were to get through the night without bleeding and to, maybe, hopefully, get to dance with you before leaving early. 

Two very simple hopes that went unfilled. 

First, Stiles was an asshole and hung around you the whole night. His presence made it impossible for Isaac to talk to you about anything other than the decorations and, if that wasn’t annoying enough, Stiles barely even looked at you. You didn’t mind and Erica didn’t even seem to notice his staring, but Isaac noticed. Isaac minded. 

Seeing as it was unlikely that any declaration of love, undying or not, was going to made with Stiles Fucking Stilinski jumping around like a kid on a sugar high, Isaac excused himself to get something to drink and maybe punch a wall. You seemed disappointed - not at the wall punching, because Isaac didn’t mention that, but at his leaving. Still, you let him go with a smile nonetheless.

Isaac smiled, too. It felt like all he’d been doing the whole night was smiling, even when you gave him your sympathies about Erica not being his date. He was going to explain everything to you right then and there when Stiles had shown up with his stupid hair and frustrating jokes. 

The punch had a sharp, bitter taste that wasn’t there at the beginning of the night and Isaac pulled a face. His dislike of alcohol wasn’t because he was worried about getting drunk (his supernatural metabolism made sure that was never a possibility), but because he just didn’t like the taste. Thanks to his dad, he’d been around the stuff long enough for it to lose its appeal. 

Dumping his glass in a potted plant, Isaac turned back to survey the gym. He’d just spotted you in the crowd when Erica and Boyd materialized on either side of him. Erica grabbed his now empty cup and threw it to the side. 

“Hey!” Isaac whined. 

“We have to go,” she said in her black and blue voice. “Derek needs us.” 

Of course, he did. Heaven forbid Isaac had one night free from Hale drama. “Right now?”

“Right now,” Boyd repeated. “The hunters are making their move and Derek says there’s another wolf pack. He can’t take them all by himself. Sorry, man.” 

Erica put her hands on Isaac’s shoulders and steered him towards the dance floor. “So go tell your sweetheart that there’s a family emergency and meet us outside, okay?” She shoved him into the floor before Isaac had the chance to argue. 

Isaac wasn’t sure where you came from, but you caught him before he landed on his ass, at least. Your face was full of concern as you helped Isaac stand back up and asked what was going on. 

Casting a look over his shoulder, Isaac couldn’t find Erica or Boyd. They were already on the move and Isaac didn’t have time to explain everything. “I’ve gotta go,” Isaac interrupted you. He let out a breath as he turned back to you. Then, with a painful smile, he added, “Family emergency.”

“Oh,” you said. You blinked hard as you thought of something else to say. “Do you need a ride?” 

“No, Erica and Boyd are already outside,” Isaac said. It was hard for him to focus on you over the sound of the music and his beating heart. “I, uh- I’ve had a lot of fun with you these past few weeks. Thanks.” 

You nodded, looking down at your intertwined hands for a second. You gave his hands a squeeze. “Me too,” you said. “I’ll see you on Monday?” 

“Monday,” Isaac lied with a bittersweet smile. He decided, since he was most likely going to be killed in the woods in seventeen minutes anyway, to do something that he’d never dreamed possible. 

Letting go of your hands, Isaac stepped forward and kissed your cheek. He disappeared before you had the chance to say anything. 

If the night had ended there, it wouldn’t have mattered much that none of Isaac’s hopes had been met because at least he’d gotten to kiss your cheek. The problem was that, like most nights, it didn’t end when Isaac wanted it to. 

The night kept going, and Isaac got shot with arrows and electrocuted with arrows and mauled by some out of control werewolves. He’d lost Erica and Boyd somewhere in the chaos and he’d never even found Derek to begin with. The night kept going, and Isaac was bloody and alone. 

He couldn’t go back to the loft, purely because he wasn’t strong enough to make it there. He had no idea where the root cellar was. The night kept going, and Isaac was bleeding out with nowhere to turn. 

Still, he ran. 

Isaac had survived so much in his short time on this goddamn bitch of an earth, and he wasn’t about to give up because his spleen had ruptured or because he had no idea where he was. No, Isaac ran because - despite everything - he wanted to live. 

He ran and ran until he eventually found something familiar. Unluckily, it wasn’t the hospital or the animal clinic but your house. Isaac would have kept running if he thought his leg could make it, but he knew they couldn’t. 

So, Isaac made the agonizing journey up to your front door. He rang the bell. You’d just opened the door, and all Isaac managed to get out was: “I didn’t know where else to go.” 

And then he collapsed. 

Part 5

Tagged:  @lettherebelovex​  @britty443​  @ietss​  @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane​  @chocolate-raspberries​  @jellybelly-jones  @f1nal-g1rl​

[smol-and-trashy]

Botched Rescue (BnHA vore) 2/5

A/N: So this is also a thing. Warning for unwilling prey, fearplay, all that jazz. 

__________________________________

Never in his 16 years would Izuku imagine the number two hero enter through those doors. I-is he here to save us? Or what if… could it be Toga wearing Hawks’ face? His terror spiked, just imagining the blood-lusting girl sent shivers down his spine. Looking up, he noticed that the winged hero’s face was strangely passive, chatting with a long-nosed villain as if nothing was out of the ordinary. As Hawks stepped closer to the jar, following long-nose’s lead, his golden eyes widened ever so slightly once catching a glimpse of the U.A. students.

“H-Hawks!” Izuku cried out, pounding on the glass to get the hero’s attention. Hawks stared back at him, blinking blankly. He raised a feathery brow and turned to long-nose, “What’re Endeavor’s interns doing here…?” he trailed off, sharp eyes honing in on the students, “And why are they so small?” Long-nose’s perpetual grin never left his face, “Why Hawks, they are for you. We thought this size would make them easier.” Izuku slowly quieted down while Todoroki stiffened, Easier for what? Izuku thought while the hero before them voiced the same concern. “For consumption,” Long-nose answered simply as if there was no need to provide a further explanation. The blood drained from both students’ faces. Izuku faltered backward, his brain going on overdrive. Consumed by what? By who? But the answer was glaringly obvious. Long-nose had brought Hawks in the hideout to perform their death. Judging by the winged man’s affability towards the villain, he wasn’t there to break them out. Izuku’s heart plummeted; getting eaten would be tantamount to death. It couldn’t be their fate, this man had to be lying. Todoroki punched the glass, a scorching storm of raw emotion taking over his form. “Enough with your tricks, let us out!” he demanded. Still, his words fell upon deaf ears as the hero’s achingly indifferent eyes lingered over them before returning to face the villain—as if they were some kind of insignificant buzzing.   — Hawks balked, did he hear that right? No, keep your cool. Just remember your mission, I can’t afford to sabotage this. “Heh, you want me to eat them? Never thought the PLF would be into cannibalism,” he answered nonchalantly, putting his arms behind his head. Re-Destro shrugged, “I know, it is a rather unconventional method to dispose of hostages, but think of the advantages. No evidence of the corpses and imagine the humiliation the heroes would experience if they found out one of their own did the deed," he raised his hands in the air, words flying out of his mouth in eager anticipation. “It is too great of an opportunity to pass up!” The blond hero stepped back, his thoughts twisted while his gut knotted up. This shouldn’t be possible, he shouldn’t be able to do this, he can’t. “I get why you’d want me to do it, but wouldn’t it be more impactful if a big shot villain did it? What difference would it really make if I,” he took a deep breath and swallowed, regretting his next choice of words, “ate them?” The formerly stressed boss narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to the shorter man, “I thought you would be grateful, after all, this would provide an opportunity to continue to prove your allegiance to us. My successor still has his doubts.” Hawks’ eyes darted back at the students, the finger smashing kid was yelling something incomprehensible to him. No doubt thinking he was going to murder them, his guilt swelled. You’re killing me here. How do I save them without any casualties, without revealing myself? “But you get my hesitation, right? This is just a lot… more than just fighting for the liberation of quirks. I’d discreetly kill them for our cause, but actually consuming those kids is another story. It’s a huge taboo, cannibalism, y’know?” “I understand, but it’s a question of whether you will or will not do what is asked of you. We value your contributions, but we need allies who are loyal.” Shit. “Nope! Not a problem at all. I was just making sure I heard you right," he pressed a thumb to his forehead in an 'L' shape, eyes dead serious. "Everything I do is for the Liberation.” Re-Destro smiled wider, shaking the hero’s hand, 
“Good good, that’s what I like to hear!” There was a pregnant pause, and Hawks stepped closer to the jar, taking off his visor and resting his chin in his arms, now eye level with the aspiring heroes; he winced inwardly as the two jumped back. He really didn’t want to do this. Would it be too late to back out now? If they kill me, would the kids still get to live? If he was being honest with himself, probably not. “What’s wrong? You look nervous.” It was a test. Re-Destro’s eyes were closed in slits, but his tight-lipped smile was telling. If he didn’t do as he was told, Hawks would be branded as a traitor and most likely subjected to the Liberation Front’s torture. Everything he worked towards would be for nothing. He cringed, and no doubt would Dabi burn him to crisp. “Ok, ok.” he grabbed the jar and tried to avoid looking at the terrified gazes of the students. Hawks plucked a thrashing Todoroki Shouto from the jar and popped him in his mouth without a second thought. “You…YOU TRAITOR!” Shouto shouted before the mouth snapped shut, pushing past his guilt, Hawks internally gagged at the boy’s flavor. Todoroki’s body was salty and quivering with hateful tears. The kid was fired up, though and he winced as a fist made contact with his molar. Shit, I'm actually going to have to swallow him. I’m going to hell. This is so sick, even for me. He repressed the urge to vomit and tilted his head back, distinctly feeling the squirming figure traveling down his throat. Hawks brought a hand to his mouth, the tiny student was going down so slowly, so painfully, it was only a gross reminder of his deed. Urk, I’m gonna throw up, his wings shifted uncomfortably and he shot a glance at Re-Destro, who was staring expectingly. Can’t look reluctant. They’re gonna suspect me. Just ignore the fact you’re eating Endeavor’s son—- ugh. Hawks tossed the former leader of the Liberation Army a wry smile, internally recoiling at the fact that Shouto hadn’t even passed his esophagus. “Can I have some water? Jeez, he’s so dry,” he complained as he rubbed his throat. The villain called up an underling and quickly, he was given a bottle of water, “Thanks!” the winged hero gasped out as he greedily gulped down the water. The younger Todoroki had finally gotten unstuck from his gullet, and he could feel him descend to his stomach. Sorry Shouto, I need to do this as quickly as possible. Please don’t drown. —— Izuku watched in abject horror as he watched the bulge of his friend slide down the former hero’s neck, quickly disappearing past his collar bone.   “T-T-T-Todoroki?” Izuku stuttered out, overcome with pure shock as he watched the death of his friend. Out of the many possible deaths Izuku thought he would encounter, being shrunk and eaten by a top hero didn’t quite make the list. As he watched a gigantic hand make its way back to the jar, Izuku held a shred of hope in his heart. He didn’t just watch Hawks, the number 2 hero, just knock back Todoroki like a mere snack. No, it was too outlandish to be real, he must still be unconscious, and these were nightmarish projections of his subconscious. It explained their predicament and why Hawks was even chummy with a villain in the first place. Despite himself, he mustered up his fear and looked up at the shadow looming over them: massive passive golds reaching tear-welled greens. While the winged man peered down at them, Izuku’s large eyes gazed up with desperate hope, but the former’s face was completely devoid of emotion: Izuku felt his insides liquefy. No. They were about to die in one of the most gruesome ways possible in the hands of a trusted hero. He collapsed on his knees. Despite the instability of the jar, the sense of hopelessness overwhelmed him. This was real. He was actually going to die. As the gloved hand neared the jar, Izuku found himself running in front of the unconscious blond. Keeping a protective stance, right when the hand was about to snatch Bakugou, Izuku leapt in front of it. The hand jolted, causing the man to drop Bakugou and grab Izuku instead. Time stood still as Izuku was lifted to the awaiting maw. As he drew nearer, he could see every pore of the man’s face, every hair of his stubble, and more importantly, large and daunting his mouth was from this perspective. Izuku was a shaking, dizzying mess as he was nearly thrown into the mouth, barely able to get himself reoriented before he was slammed to the ridged palette. Sandwiched between his tongue and palette, Izuku’s only light source was cut off, and all he knew was the damp humidity coupled by Hawks’ easy breaths. He waited in blind terror for what felt like a good minute and finally let out a sigh of relief, “Oh good, he’s not going to—” A resounding swallow echoed, and with a flick of the tongue, Izuku was dragged down.

[stardancerluv]

Roman’s Lady is his Luck

Part 2c

Summary: In passion and love you are together yet Roman’s voice sometimes is a stormy cloud.

Warning: Language, Voilence, Torture, blood mentioned, sex

The man backed up. “Roman, come on. We all know that the women, you usually have are not ladies.”

Right then, Roman’s friend Bernard who had greeted the two of you showed up.

“How was the game everyone?”

“Great.” Roman, looked at the two men who came with the man. “Take him away.” He pointed to the man who insulted your presence.

“Hey, wait a second.” The man said, panic evident in his voice.

The bald man nodded. “Take him to our place. Roman and I will handle him later.” The man, then looked at the two of you. “How is the room?” A wide, toothy smile spread across his face.

Roman’s mood, finally shifted. “It is very nice.” He smiled looking at you. “We love it.”

“Perfect.”

You went over to Roman’s side. “I love it. It’s fantastic.” You echoed.

“Fantastic.”

“Y/N, were right about to check out the Mob Museum.” He squeezed your hip.

“Yes, we were. I love all that old school gangster stuff.”

“Well, you two have fun. And Roman, I’ll keep him till your ready.”

Roman smiled, “We’ll be back around six. I’ll be down after that.”

*****

“Ooo look at these!” You pointed at the Bugsy Siegel’s. Sunglasses. They reminded you of a pair sometimes, Roman would wear. Only his were much better.

“Yeah. Mine are better.” He chuckled.

“You bet they are.” Looping you arm with his, you went on to look at the next exhibits. “And you are much better looking too.” You whispered in his ear.

He smirked. “I’ve got the best moll of them all.”

You flushed. “I want to be.”

******

“Come here baby.” He pulled you close, once you were back at the suite.

“Yes, Roman.” Your arms wrapped around him.

“I’m going to go and take of that man now. What are you going to be up to?”

“I’ll go shopping.”

“I’ll come find you.” He knew how much you loved to shop, there were some wonderful stores out here. He had to meet with one of his favorite tailors out here, he mused.

You smiled. “I’d like that.” You tilted your head to one side. “Roman, are you going to kill him?”

“I might.” He grew serious, never discussed such things with anyone. Not even, Victor. “Why?” He looked at you.

“You don’t have to kill everyone who insults me.”

“The stewardess, is still alive.”

“That’s good.” As you looked down, he knew you were not challenging him. He actually felt something. No one really ever cared about his actions. “I guess.” You looked at him finally. “I don’t want you to feel you have to kill everyone who is horrible to me.”

“But I enjoy it.” He smirked. He did. He enjoyed making people squirm and pay when they crossed him.

He could hear your concern. “I just don’t want to give Bat-brain or Gordon more of a reason to go after you.”

He gave you a warm smile. He drew a finger along your jaw. “Don’t worry baby. They’re small minnows in my pond, they don’t worry me.” You concern, and knowing his prowess, he wanted you to be assured.

“When you say it like that, I guess you’re right.”

“I am.” He nodded. “Now go and get some pretty things for yourself. And I will come find you.”

******

Bernard, handed him his mask before the car came to a stop.

“I forgot kept one here in case.” He smiled as he looked at it. He slid it on, then making sure his gloves fit well, he got out of the car. “Thank you,” He looked at Victor. “Sorry to interupt your game. I know this is a vacation for you too.”

“Not a problem, boss. This asshole has to be dealt with.”

With Victor behind him, he began making his way, to the abandoned factory. Distantly, he wondered what store you were shopping at.

*****

A thrill went through you. The more you thought about it, you actually enjoyed what a powerful person in Gotham he was, and that he loved you made even more exciting.

Wandering down by the shops, you stopped and looked at the three statues. Looking past one of them you spotted one of your favorite stores. You had thought it was only in Gotham, happily you were wrong and you made your way over to it.

******

He walked in and saw the man tied up and gagged. Under the mask, his lips curled into a smile. He flinched as he neared.

“Do you know why you are here?” He asked as he reached into his pocket and took out one of his knives.

******

Once in the boutique, you went over to a rack of colorful and pretty dresses. Seeing a few in your size, you grabbed them to try one.

You also spotted a few blouses and skirts. You were in heaven. Soon, the dressing room was filled with color and several types of fabrics.

She settled on a few items before moving among several other boutiques, there was a wake of color fabrics in her wake.

*****

The man sputtered and gasped and begged. “Please, I thought I was just being honest.”

He coughed and screamed.

Roman, enjoyed seeing him squirm. “Well, you shouldn’t insult a man’s girl. It doesn’t matter who she is.”

“I...I...”

“You fucking what? You’re beginning to bore me.”

“I promise not too do it again.” He man, whimpered.

“Victor, hold this asshole down will you?” He saw an instense fear light his eyes as color continued to drain from his face. It made Roman happy. He grabbed the man by his jaw. “Oh do you, stick out your fucking tongue.”

******

Finally, you spotted a guilty pleasure. Your favorite lingerie store. Well, to be honest it was because, the first time Roman was away he bought you the most beautiful pieces from it when he bad business in London.

Maybe you could find something to wear under that dress he surprised you with.

Perhaps, something silky to go under the black silky dress. Or perhaps something with lace. So many wonderful items to pick from.

*****

Blood poured from the man’s tongue, slipping his mask off he leaned in close. “Now you will know not to let your tongue wag about another man’s girl.”

“Yes.” The man sputtered.

******

You gasped as you walked out of the dressing room and saw Roman, leaning there. “Roman!” You said excitedly and went over to him.

He smiled and held you close. “Having, fun baby?”

“Yes. I was just finishing up.” You looked around a little shy. “Would you like me to put on a little fashion show for you?” Excitement, over the idea, curled in your stomach.

He smirked. “I’d like that.”

******

*******

Finding, your mp3 player you cued up some music. You were a little shy at first but then you got into it.

As he lounged there with his shirt jacket off, excitement built in you.

A fire began to build in his eyes. “You are beautiful.” His voice was raspy. You could feel very word. They excited you.

*****

Damn, watching your curves under all those items of clothing was absolutely amazing. His heart beat with the music.

His lips curled in his excitement as he watched you. The music added to it but it was all you.

When you were finally in a little teddy. He beckoned to you. “Come here baby.”

He pulled you onto his lap. His hand slipped under the teddy to rest on your hips. He gave them a squeeze.

“I have something to tell you.”

“Yes.” You reached up and ran your fingers through your hair.

“I listened to you today.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I didn’t kill him. But he will remember to not ever act like that again.”

“Oh, Roman I don’t know what to say.” You were shocked. You’d never thought he’d listen. As it was, you were terrified about saying something earlier. It really had not been your place. But that he listened to you, honestly touched your heart.

“You were right. Sometimes a punishment can be more fun.” He smirked. “You can kiss me.”

As your small hand laid on his cheek, he closed his eyes for a moment as he did he then felt your lips. He repressed the sound that came frlm

He moved fast making you gasp and pulling a soft sound from you as he now was over you.

“I can’t wait. I want you.”

“I’m yours.”

He made quick moves and opening his slacks, he easily took himself out. “Oh, that is my girl.” When he saw you had not slipped on any panties.

Bracing himself on the armrest, he entered you. A moan poured from his lips which mingled with yours.

He loved the feel of your legs as they wrapped around his waist almost as much as being deep with you.

“Baby.” He breathed, as your fingers were deep in his hair.

*****

Your teddy rested on your hips as you curled up to him on the sofa. You pressed a kiss on his cheek. Delighting, in the light touch of scruff.

“I’m glad you enjoyed my little show.”

He turned his head to smile at you, “I did. I could barely control myself.”

You flushed and hid your face into his shoulder.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @rentskenobi @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @pooshnulooshnu

[thatsamericano]

In Gin and Whiskey, There is Truth

Pairing/Characters: America/Romano, brief appearance of Lithuania at the beginning.

Ratings/Warnings: Teen. Mentions/implications of sexual activity, alcohol use, discussions of the consent issues surrounding hooking up while one person is more drunk than the other (though nothing remotely non-consensual happens in this story).

Word Count: 2524

Summary: America has too much to drink at the speakeasy, and he’s more honest and forward with Romano than he would normally be. Romano, who’s been harboring a crush on his idiot housemate for a while, tries to avoid taking advantage of America while he’s drunk.

Notes: Written for @hetaliancupid-hetaliaevent Day 4 prompt “What was the mistake? The alcohol or us?”. Title adapted from the Latin saying “In Vino Veritas.”

America wasn’t as old as Romano or Lithuania, and he probably hadn’t been exposed to alcohol as much in the course of his relatively short life as a nation. That was why, despite being taller and bigger than both of them, he was much more drunk from the evening they’d spent at the speakeasy than either of his housemates. While Tolys and Savino were merely tipsy, Alfred was absolutely blotto.

America needed help from both of them to get back home, so Lithuania and Romano were on either side of him. His arms fell heavy across both of their shoulders, but his swaying steps tended to lean a little more to the right, so he ended up pressing against Savino a few times. At one point, Alfred even tipped his head down, nuzzled into the top of Savino’s hair, and told him that his hair smelled amazing. Savino called him an idiot and tried to ignore the heat creeping up his neck, and he also ignored Tolys’s chuckles at his expense.

Lithuania used his key to get into the house, and then they both helped a very intoxicated America climb up the staircase. It was a risky proposition, but they went slowly, and they managed to successfully navigate the staircase and only stumbled a couple of times.

Tolys’s bedroom was closer to the end of the hallway, so he slipped out from under Alfred’s arm and walked over to his bedroom door. America slumped into his side, and Romano grimaced at him.

“You’re way too fucking heavy for me to keep upright like this, idiota.”

“Mmm, sorry Vinny. But you’re real, real comfortable.” The arm that had been around his shoulders moved down to loosely embrace his waist, and Romano practically had a heart attack.

“Are you guys going to be okay on your own?” Tolys asked. His voice sounded concerned, and his face was drawn into a worried little frown.

“I can handle Al,” Savino assured him. “Go ahead and get some sleep.”

Lithuania nodded and entered his room, shutting the door behind him. America turned his head to smile at Romano with something he might have interpreted as lust if the idiot hadn’t been so wasted.

“So, we’re alone now.”

Savino narrowed his eyes. “What the hell are you trying to say, bastardo?”

“Nothing bad.” Alfred giggled. “Well, maybe a little bad. I like being alone with you. I’ve wanted to be alone with you for a long, long time, honey.”

Romano swallowed heavily at the endearment, even though he knew it probably didn’t mean anything. America’s Southern accent tended to come out more when he was tired, and he was probably exhausted from all the drinks he’d consumed earlier. “That’s, umm…”

“I think you’re the bee’s knees.” Alfred squeezed his waist, and warning sirens went off in Savino’s head. “The things I’ve thought about doing with you, well… let’s just say they’d make a petting party look like a Sunday church gathering by comparison.”

Savino coughed and began to shuffle them down the hallway. “Let’s just get you back to your bedroom, okay?” He’d heard about those “petting parties,” and the last thing he needed was to imagine doing anything with Alfred that could make them seem as innocuous as church services. That was way too fucking distracting, and it’s not like he could act on any of those thoughts, especially not right now. America was so drunk that he was saying things he didn’t mean and would certainly regret in the morning, once the gin and whiskey wore off.

Alfred nodded and walked in step with him. “Makes sense. It would be a little odd to do that in the hallway right outside Lithuania’s bedroom.” America started laughing loudly at the idea, which was apparently hilarious to him.

Romano scowled. “That’s not what I meant, dipshit.”

Unfortunately, he must have said that too quietly for his drunken idiot of a friend to hear him. Because as soon as Romano opened the door, America eagerly pulled him inside and slammed the door shut with one hand. Before he could even get a syllable out to ask Alfred what the hell he was doing, Alfred pinned him up against the wall and proceeded to kiss the living daylights out of him.

Savino should have instantly pushed Alfred away, but he didn’t. Because Alfred may have unceremoniously shoved his tongue in his mouth without warning, but he was a damn good kisser. Even his alcohol-soaked breath didn’t make Savino recoil, because he had been repressing the desire to kiss Alfred for years now, ever since that dumbass had taken the time to break down Savino’s walls and tried his best to help him feel useful and capable at a time when he really needed that. Once Romano had let America be his friend, wanting him as something more than a friend didn’t take very long.

So instead of shoving Alfred away as he should have, Savino let Alfred kiss him and whimpered pathetically into his mouth. His hands fisted the fabric of America’s suit jacket, but they unconsciously drew America closer instead of pushing him away.

It was only when America pressed his thigh in between Romano’s legs, way, way too close to his crotch, that Romano snapped back to his senses. He pushed Alfred away from him, and America stumbled backwards. America stared at him with a dazed expression, and his lips were parted in a way that probably wasn’t meant to be seductive, but still incredibly frustrating. Romano felt a turbulent cocktail of emotions, and they all came out as anger.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, asshole?!”

America looked hurt. “I thought… when you said you’d take me back to my bedroom…”

“I meant I was taking you back here to sleep. Did you really think I was gonna have sex with you?! Why is that the only thing you can think about?!”

“It isn’t the only thing I can think about!” America was yelling, but there were tears in his eyes, and he sounded more heartbroken than angry. Romano felt like a shit heel. “But I really like you, and for a minute there I thought you liked me too! If I’d known how much you’d hate kissing me, I would’ve never tried to do that!”

Romano softened towards him. “I never said I hated it, Fredo.” In fact, he’d enjoyed kissing Alfred a lot more than he should have. But it didn’t matter how much Savino liked kissing him. It would be wrong to take advantage of Alfred when he was too drunk to think clearly and make decisions based on what he actually wanted.

America sniffled. “You didn’t have to say it. You made your feelings really, really clear. I’m not as dumb as you think I am.” He sat down on the edge of his bed, clasped his hands together, and bent his head like he was struggling not to cry.

Romano sighed and walked over to the bed to sit down next to him. “I know I call you an idiota sometimes, but I don’t mean that as a real insult. I don’t think you’re dumb, and I’m sorry I ever gave you that impression.”

“That’s not it. It’s just… I’m pretty young compared to you, and it’s not like I know what I’m doing when it comes to sex and all that stuff. I’ve never even done it with anybody before.”

Romano could feel himself blushing at the turn this conversation had taken. “If you’re a virgin, then why the hell were you so eager to have sex with me?”

“Because I like you. And not just ‘cause you’re gorgeous, though that’s definitely part of it. I think you’re funny, and smart, and way more talented than you give yourself credit for. And you’re one of my best friends. You mean so much to me, Savi.”

Savino still had his doubts. “You’re not just saying this because you’re wasted?”

America shook his head. “Nah. I just didn’t say it before ‘cause I was pretty sure you didn’t feel the same way, and I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.” He laughed hollowly. “Guess I’ve screwed that up, huh?”

Savino reached over to place his hand on top of Alfred’s. “It’s not your fault, caro. I wasn’t exactly being clear myself.” He paused, internally wrestling with his conscience, and then he decided to come clean to Alfred. “I don’t mind the idea of sleeping with you, and I did like kissing you. But I don’t want to hurt you by taking advantage of you when you’re like this. It wouldn’t be right.”

“But if I hadn’t been drinking?”

Romano squeezed his eyes shut. “If you hadn’t been drinking, I wouldn’t have stopped you, and it could’ve gone a lot further than kissing. I like you too, Alfredo.”

Alfred laughed, and when Savino opened his eyes, he could see his bright, stupidly beautiful grin. It didn’t seem like America would be crying any time soon. “I’m so happy right now. I thought for sure you were gonna hate me forever.”

“Well, I don’t.” Hating Alfred was the last thing on his mind.

Alfred bit his lower lip and glanced away from him. “I know you don’t want to do stuff with me when I’m drunk, but how do you feel about spending the night with me?”

“Spending the night with you?” Romano asked. He couldn’t believe the words he was hearing.

“Like sleeping in the same bed, with maybe some cuddling. Not that I don’t want to do other stuff, but to be honest, I’m too tired anyway.” Alfred yawned, which aptly demonstrated his point.

Romano rolled his eyes. “Won’t you freak out in the morning when I wake up in bed with you and you can’t remember why?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll probably just think I’m dreaming about you. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”

Romano sighed. “Alright. I’ll sleep in the same bed with you. But I’m only taking off my shoes.”

“Oh, yeah. I should probably do that too.”

Savino bent down to remove his shoes, and Alfred managed to kick his off without assistance. After shrugging off his suit jacket, Savino laid down on Alfred’s bed and stared up at him. Alfred quickly got out of his suit jacket and placed his glasses on the night stand. As soon as he laid down, America pulled him into a tight hug, and Romano chuckled into his shoulder.

“I didn’t know you’d be this clingy.”

Alfred dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “I just really like holding you, Vinny.”

“I like being held,” Savino admitted quietly. “At least when it’s you.” Normally, he would be reluctant to admit to feeling something so sappy, but he was safe here with Alfred. He relaxed enough to let his eyes drift closed.

“Well, good night, I guess. Love you.” Alfred took a deep breath, and then he began snoring lightly. He must have gone to sleep immediately after saying good night.

Romano hesitantly peeked his eyes open, and sure enough, America’s eyes were closed. Romano smiled to himself and closed his eyes too.

“Ti amo, Alfredo.” Within a couple of minutes, he dozed off in Alfred’s arms.

The next morning, Romano woke up in a different position. Apparently, they had shifted around in their sleep, and America was now spooning him. Somehow, America was still holding onto him just as tightly as he had when he’d fallen asleep the night before. Even moving around in the middle of the night couldn’t keep Alfred from snuggling him.

Alfred groaned from behind him. “Ugh, my head. Did I clear out the entire speakeasy’s bar last night?”

Savino snorted. “Hardly. You’re just a lightweight.”

“Vinny? What are you doing here?”

Alfred let go of him, and Savino shifted around to face him. But he seemed more confused than panicky. “I’m probably dreaming, right? I should check.” America pinched his arm and frowned afterwards. “Huh, that’s weird. It actually hurt.”

Romano smiled at him uneasily. “How much do you remember about last night?”

Alfred squinted at him. “Uhh, I’m pretty sure I tried to kiss you, and then you yelled at me. I’m not sure how that led to me waking up in the same bed with you.”

“I told you I had feelings for you too, but I didn’t want to take advantage of you while you were drunk. We didn’t have sex, but you did ask me to spend the night with you. All we did was cuddle, after you promised me you wouldn’t freak out when I woke up in the same bed with you. You’re not freaking out right now, are you?”

Alfred shook his head. “Nah, just kinda surprised.” He grinned. “Wait, did you just say you have feelings for me?”

“I… I think I might love you.” God, it was so nerve-wracking to tell America that while he was awake and sober.

“You’re so adorable when you blush like that! I love you too!” He started to lean in, and then he stopped about an inch away from Savino’s mouth. “Wait, are you cool with me kissing you when I’ve got morning breath?”

Savino cupped the back of Alfred’s neck and kissed him. He wrinkled his nose a little at both his and America’s morning breath, which wasn’t ideal, but at this point, Romano really didn’t care about stupid things like that. He kissed America just as thoroughly as he had been kissed yesterday, and when he pulled away, America looked absolutely wrecked by the kiss, which was a flattering and wonderful thing to see.

Alfred licked his lips. His voice came out gravelly. “You know, if you’re… uh, worried about taking advantage of me, I’m pretty sure I’m not drunk anymore. Just hungover. So if you wanted to, we could…” He trailed off, gaze going towards the bed.

Savino swallowed, suddenly nervous. “Are you sure? I mean, if you’re hungover, wouldn’t you rather have coffee? A shower?”

America smiled, and a blush spread down over his face down to the collar of his shirt. It might have gone down further, but at the moment, Romano couldn’t see.

“If I did take a shower, I don’t see why you couldn’t join me.”

While Romano was struggling to respond (because after what Alfred had said, he was struggling to breathe, damn it), America casually got out of the bed and started walking towards his adjoining bathroom suite. He began removing his shirt on the way, and Savino came to his senses and scrambled out of the bed and followed after Alfred.

If America didn’t see any reason why he should shower alone, then Romano didn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t join him. He had avoided taking advantage of Alfred when he was intoxicated because he tried to be a decent human being, but he wasn’t going to pass up America handing him an opportunity like this on a silver platter. Alfred smirked at him over his shoulder, and Savino knew he had made the right decision.

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

Being Human - Chapter 12

<= Chapter 11

Summary : Snatcher has a talk with someone. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826561/chapters/65084764

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NEW CHAPTER HEEEEY I hope you'll like it ! I managed to work quite well on "Being Human" recently and I finished writing the 14th chapter yesterday (and it's a long one too) ! I had a blast writing the 12th and 14th chapter and I can't wait for you to read it !

Thank you so much for all your support, it means so, so, so much to me. I know I keep repeating this, but this is the truth. Without you, I wouldn't be where I am today.

Fun fact: I will soon draw my 100th drawing on "A Hat In Time" (I'm colouring the 98th one and I sketched the 99th one, I genuinely wonder what the 100th will represent!). I have been extremely productive this year, I think I drew like 150 pictures (in general) from the beginning of 2020 to today. And it's all thanks to you guys !! Thank you so much !

ANYWAY.

The “Oh The Humanity” AU belongs to @doodledrawsthings​ !

Happy reading !

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Chapter 12 - “You’re bad at telling scary stories.”

-“Here, come this way,” instructed Cooking Cat, as she led him to the machine room, her face serious now that the kids were nowhere in sight.

Snatcher’s expression showed how confused he was, seeing where she was taking him. Why there? He didn’t have his place in this room, and certainly neither did she, unless he greatly underestimated her. If she saw his face, she didn’t say anything, leading him further into the ship instead, stopping in front of a green door with the pictogram of a brush on the centre of it. Where would it lead? A playroom perhaps? A room dedicated to hobbies? After all, with such a huge ship, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to find a room like that inside.

The door opened swiftly revealing -another!- hallway, just as sloped as the others. Oh, this was just great, especially with how he fell earlier. His legs hurt. Well, everything did, but mostly his legs. However, the cat seemed to notice the scowl on his face and offered her paw for him to remain stable.

-“Need some help?” she offered, concern plastered all over her face. Ugh, Gods, did Snatcher hate that expression. It just made him feel even more pathetic than he already was.

-“No,” he spat, keeping his eyes fixed on the slope not to stumble, “I can walk on my own. I’m not a stupid baby, thank you,” he added, his stone still very harsh. Deep inside, he knew the other was just trying to help, but he couldn’t keep the words inside. He was too mad at himself, at the whole situation to care. But, surprisingly, Cooking Cat only smiled at him and pulled her hand back.

-“Okay,” she simply replied and the former ghost cringed at her compassionate tone. Still… This was a very different reaction than what he had expected. The hatted brat would have yelled at him, the other one would have given him a sad look… But Cooking Cat just agreed, not looking different than usual, despite his harsh words.

Somehow… Somehow, it felt like he wasn’t rushed to accept his current “condition” for once. It was a nice change. He knew the little girls had been trying to help him, but this was different, in a way he couldn’t describe precisely.

Great, and now he was feeling bad. Just another negative feeling on the top of all the terrible ones he was already feeling, perfect, fantastic. The former ghost avoided looking at Cooking Cat, guilt eating him inside. This was so ridiculous: he was (used to be…?) a soul-stealing spirit, one that forced people to work for him only to kill them afterwards… And now he was feeling guilty? What the heck?

“This is just this stupid human brain,” he thought grumpily as they walked into the hallway, the cat adapting her pace to match his, not forcing him to go faster than he could. He hated to be pitied that much, it just reminded him that he was less capable than any human… Yet, a part of himself felt grateful for it, no matter how much he was trying to repress it.

Snatcher wasn’t weak, he didn’t want to be. How could he, with an entire village to protect against a crazy Queen? It was his responsibility.

They eventually reached the other door, which opened just as quickly as the first one. The sight that greeted Snatcher’s eyes was definitely not one he had expected. His jaw dropped from the surprise, his eyes glancing everywhere, examining his surroundings with much interest.

It was a gallery. The walls were green, with burgundy columns in the corners of the room. The floor was covered in red carpet, with round, darker patterns on it. A long light green rug was in front of them, starting from the door to the opposite wall. On their left was a pedestal on which was exhibited a bust with a golden, shiny necklace. Just as expected, the room was full of paintings, all very different from one another. Most of them represented the hatted girl, others showed people he didn’t know, or ones he vaguely remembered such as the mafia goons who often wandered in his forest. He entered the room, more than impressed with what he was seeing… Until he found a particular painting that caught his attention.

-“Hey, that’s me!” he exclaimed, surprised. He moved just in front of the painting, admiring it in bewilderment: his previous ghostly appearance could be seen in the middle of the picture, as if he were screaming, though his expression wasn’t a horrified one. The setting seemed awfully familiar to him, as if he had seen another version of that painting somewhere else. Huh. Weird.

Confusion replaced his initial surprise as questions echoed in his mind. However, his lips moved on their own, voicing them as he kept his eyes stuck on the painting before him:

-“Who made that?” he asked, unable to look anywhere else.

Cooking Cat stayed silent for a brief moment, as if to think, before replying, unsure:

-“I don’t know,” she answered trustfully: “I’ve only been here once, to be completely honest. I tried asking about it, but the girls avoided the question. They’re usually pretty talkative, but there are some things they try not to talk about. So… I don’t force them.”

The former ghost remembered what the kids told him earlier, about the war that broke out between their people… If this was something like that, it made sense they didn’t want to talk about it. He couldn’t really blame them, considering he didn’t like to mention his own past. However… This was different: his face was literally on the picture, he was directly concerned by this! He never gave anyone the right to use his image! Really, the nerve of some people, he should sue!

But, as he finally managed to inspect the other paintings as well… He realized that he wasn’t the only one concerned, seeing as some pictures featured other people, like that awfully annoying tourist that always managed to avoid his traps…

For real, who painted those? Certainly not the kids: he had seen their drawings and they certainly didn’t look like that. These paintings were obviously made by professionals, people who knew how to draw and how to colour. What a strange mystery…

Snatcher was brought back to reality as Cooking Cat called out to him softly. He turned in her direction, noticing only now that she was sitting on the floor, patting the spot next to her, as an invitation for him to join her.

-“You’re kidding, right?” he asked, with a mix of confusion and mockery in his voice.

-“Trust me,” she answered, patting the spot harder, clearly insisting. The man looked at her for a few seconds, wondering how naive she could be to think he’d sit on the floor just because he was asked to… But no matter how motionless he remained, she just kept her eyes on his, waiting patiently for him to sit, not pushing him nor rushing him to do so.

Just waiting.

It wasn’t long until her stare made him ill at ease, made him feel like he was ridiculous, just like a child throwing a tantrum at his patient mother. But as soon as that thought came to his mind, he realized this wasn’t really far from the truth, given how motherly Cooking Cat had acted up until now… And he had just admitted he was behaving like a kid.

Now that was just great.

With a loud and frustrated sigh, Snatcher eventually gave in and sat next to her, a clear frown visible on his face. His arms were around his legs, keeping his knees close to his chest. He stared at her with irritation:

-“Fine, I’m sitting next to you. Amazing. What now?” his voice sounded bored and exasperated, but he was actually intrigued, if he had to be completely honest. Why would she take him to this room, only to have him sit on the carpet? As if this was going to help him fight his so-called emotions! Ugh.

Being human sucked.

However, before he was able to say anything else, he felt a powerful tug on the collar of his jacket, pulling him down to the floor. His back soon hit the ground, though not as hard as he thought it would. His head thankfully was stopped by the cat’s paw before any possible impact. Snatcher’s eyes were wide open from the surprise and the shock, looking everywhere as the gears in his mind started to turn. And then it clicked.

Cooking Cat had pulled on his collar, forcing him to lie down, his back against the soft carpet.

-“Hey!” he protested, trying to straighten up once more: “What do you think you’re doi-”

Yet, despite his wish to yell at the other for her over-familiar gesture, he was silenced both by the cat and by the sight caught by his eyes.

-“Hush and look up,” she simply said, pointing at the ceiling, forcing him back down. She lied down as well, putting her chef’s hat aside as she did so. Snatcher stopped moving as he stared at what was above him, speechless with awe. A glass ceiling, one he could see through, one that showed him many stars and planets so, so far away from him and yet so beautiful.

-“What-,” started the former ghost, only to close his mouth, not sure what to say. A lot of conflicted emotions were echoing in his mind, like exasperation, impatience but, most of all, confusion. Why would she bring him here out of every room in the spaceship? Why would she make him lie down to look at Space -not that he’d complain about that last point- ? What was she trying to achieve by doing so? Snatcher didn’t understand and that only made him even more irritated.

Thankfully, Cooking Cat seemed to pick up on his emotions without having him explain them in details. It really was impressive how she managed to read people like open books and, in a way, that made the man quite uneasy. Knowing his heart could be so exposed to someone he barely knew… This was not something he enjoyed.

-“Thought you might like this,” she explained calmly: “I wanted to talk to you in private and, well, we might as well be in the nicest room of the ship, right? Plus… We have such a good view, here.”

Snatcher stared at her, not sure what to answer at first. Yet… He could only agree. They did have a really good view. The stars were all shiny, very distinct from the black, interstellar void. Planets could be seen in the distance, like ants walking on the glass ceiling. Somehow, lying down and watching all of that gave the man the feeling of floating above water, as if he were drifting away and seeing the sky moving. In a way… This wasn’t entirely false, as the ship was drifting away. Still, the sight remained particularly magnificent and very different from what he was used to see in Subcon Forest, even at the top of his tree.

-“There isn’t anything to talk about,” replied Snatcher with a scowl, glancing away. Why would he talk to someone he just met? He would be stupid to do so, especially since he didn’t even like talking to people to begin with. Well, unless they could be useful to him in any way, he supposed. In any case, personal topics were a definite no-no and nothing this cat could say would change anything.

-“Really?” answered Cooking Cat with a false surprised intonation: “I thought you’d like to hear about one of the tales I was told when I was only a kitten, you know, the one about you.”

Okay, maybe Snatcher was ready to talk about some personal topics.

He squinted, wary, eying the cat with suspicion:

-“You’re trying to gain my trust to make me talk, aren’t you?” he accused her, though she only smiled more at his accusations, lifting her paw to her heart to feign being hurt by them.

-“Me?” she gasped with exaggeration: “Oh, no, I would never!”

The man just frowned even more. Yeah, she was totally trying to make him talk. At this thought, he let out a long and loud irritated sigh. Whatever, it wasn’t like he could get out of this situation anyway. He had the feeling the cat wouldn’t let him, especially with how he had behaved earlier. And so, what could he do but to endure this, if it meant he could leave faster and stay alone to mope just like he wanted to? Thus, with an audible and exaggerated groan, Snatcher agreed.

-“Fine,” he grunted, already feeling he was going to regret this, “Hope it’s scary, otherwise keep it to yourself,”

-“Oh, it is,” she confirmed, nodding vigorously: “It kept me up at night many times. We were told that naughty kittens would be taken away by a mysterious spirit called “The Snatcher”, only to be eaten and forgotten by their family.”

The former shade listened attentively, wondering where the story would go. Well, so far, the story was half true. He didn’t kidnap kittens, but he did eat people somewhat, so heh, close enough.

-“So, I was your Bogeyman equivalent, basically,” he interrupted, not sure what to think of that. It was nice to know he terrified children, but being compared with such a ridiculous monster was kind of an insult. His words made his interlocutor laugh though, and she continued telling her story:

-“Ahaha, yeah, pretty much! I used to fake not being scared by it in front of my parents, but as soon as night came, I would always shake like a leaf under my bedsheets. It lasted a few years, I must admit,” she giggled awkwardly at the memory: “But you know, I’m glad I was scared of you as a kitten,” she confessed, glancing back at him with a warm smile.

-“Why?” retorted Snatcher, quite perplexed. Why would someone be happy about something like that? Usually, people would do everything to repress childhood traumas like this, or at least laugh about it later… But being happy about it? This sounded off, if not just wrong.

-“Because one night, I was so scared I couldn’t sleep. And so, I slipped out of bed and rummaged through my parents’ bookcase, doing my best not to wake them up… And then, I found what changed my whole life.”

-“And that was…?” asked Snatcher curiously, still wondering how he could have indirectly impacted someone’s life so much. He disliked helping people, so even doing so without actually wanting to made him frustrated.

-“The first cooking book I ever read,” she told him with, perhaps, the most heartfelt expression he had ever seen: “It wasn’t special or anything, just an old book my mother had kept just not to throw it away… But I was immediately hooked on it. Just thinking about creating something new from completely different ingredients… It’s, woah, you know?”

The former spirit remained silent, not sure how to answer. He wanted to retort something disagreeable, he wanted to shut her up, wanted not to listen to her sappy backstory… And yet, he kept his mouth close, for a reason he couldn’t quite place.

Was he becoming soft?!

Hating the sound of that thought, he just scoffed at her words. Yet, he already knew it wasn’t as sincere as his usual mockeries were. It felt like he was just trying to prove to himself that he was still the horrible and terrifying ghost he had been the last few centuries. This just made him feel ridiculous, ugh.

-“Hey, it’s true!” protested Cooking Cat with a little nudge, though she didn’t seem like she was offended by his attitude. Instead, she seemed to take it lightly, like a joke or something: “I remember that time so clearly. I went down in the kitchen in the middle of the night and I tried cooking something from the book. But not only did I end up cooking something that tasted terrible, but I also woke up my parents in the process!” she started to laugh again, staring into space as she looked like she was remembering it fondly: “Oh, they were mad, really mad, I can tell you that. But still, it made me realize how much I loved cooking and it soon became my dream job afterwards.”

-“Couldn’t have guessed,” he remarked sarcastically, hinting at her own name, which was pretty obvious on that regard.

-“Oh, hush!” she nudged him once more, still mischievously. Her smile faded after a few moments and she let her eyes wander in the interstellar void. Silent fell between the two and Snatcher couldn’t help but imitate her, watching the stars drift away through the window, his ears catching up on the many sounds caused by the ship. The constant whirring of the engine was… Soothing, so much that he almost fell back asleep at some point, only to be brought back to reality as Cooking Cat started to talk again:

-“So, I guess… I wanted to thank you. For existing and for being you, I mean,” she said softly: “Without you, I wouldn’t have become what I am today. Thank you.”

Snatcher glanced away, his expression turning bitter. He didn’t want to be thanked for anything. He didn’t want to help anyone, he didn’t want to be nice, even indirectly! He was a soul-stealing ghost, an entity who had murdered countless of people and had done so without feeling any guilt!

… Well, he didn’t anymore, at least. But that wasn’t the point!

Apparently, his face must have been pretty obvious to read as the cat spoke again, an embarrassed tone in her voice:

-“Sorry, I think I said more than I should have,” she confessed, giving him an apologetic look: “I didn’t want to make you feel ill-at-ease. But, if that makes you feel any better, you did give me plenty of nightmares as a kitten, so that makes us even, right?”

The former spirit only scoffed again, this time much more sincere than the last. Gods, this was so sappy, he could almost throw up because of it… Well, figure of speech, considering that he didn’t really want to experience that out of everything possible from being back from the dead. Still, this was some mushy stuff right there, exactly what exasperated him the most.

And yet, he kept his mouth closed once more. The other waited patiently, not pushing him to say or do anything and… It really felt nice. And while he was still feeling pretty… Bad, it was still better than a while ago. At least, he was calmer and less likely to snap.

It is only at that moment he realized that Cooking Cat’s purpose had not been to make him talk about his feelings… But just make him feel better, if only a little bit, never forcing him to listen if he didn’t want to. Snatcher frowned, though it wasn’t from irritation this time.

He was feeling guilty and he hated that. Why did he have to feel things like that?! However, the former shade did his best to push that thought away, very much aware that this would only lead him to snap again. And so, Snatcher took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he did so. He couldn’t describe how much he had needed that.

-“You know,” he reopened his eyes after a few minutes of silence, “You’re bad at telling scary stories,” he eventually said, the tinge of a smile on his lips.

Cooking Cat smiled back at him, not taking that as an insult… Because it wasn’t really one, in the end. Fortunately, she was observant enough to notice that instantly.

-“I know, I know,” she answered with a short giggle, before continuing, her eyes fixed on his as a more serious expression appeared on her features: “I hope you’ll teach me someday, though.”

The message between those words was clear to the man: “I’ll always be there if you need to talk again, never fear to ask”. Although… He couldn’t deny he was quite hesitant on the matter. After centuries spent without talking to anyone about his -ugh- ‘feelings’, suddenly doing so wasn’t really easy. On the contrary, it was pretty difficult. However, another thing he couldn’t deny was how he felt a bit better after talking to the cat, even if they hadn’t talked about anything related to the recent events. But perhaps it was the reason, maybe he was feeling better because she hadn’t mentioned anything about that, because she had let him choose whether he wanted help or not… And it felt nice, to have his boundaries being respected like that.

He had needed this.

-“Maybe,” he finally replied with a small nod, his eyes fixed on the glass ceiling: “not sure you can handle it, though, I am pretty scary,” he joked, even though it was still a little hard to do so considering how he was feeling at the moment. But it did the job and Cooking Cat laughed again:

-“Oh, don’t worry, I’m kind of stubborn,” she assured him. After a few more moments of silence, she stood up, catching Snatcher’s attention: “The girls must be waiting for us, by now. Let’s go back,” she told him, offering her hand to help him to stand up.

The thought of seeing the brats again after the incident in the kitchen made him quite uneasy, for obvious reasons. It would be stupid to wonder about what they talked about, considering what had just happened. He didn’t really want to see them now, yet some part of him knew that waiting would just make things worse. And as they were the only persons in the world able to revert him to his spectral form… It was best to avoid any conflict with them.

And so… Snatcher took Cooking Cat’s paw, the cat waiting patiently for him to do so. He stood up just like her, his posture tensed as he agreed to her words:

-“Yeah… Let’s go back.”

Whether the bad feeling he had about this was going to become reality or was just the product of his pessimistic nature… He didn’t know yet. But he would very soon.

Snatcher did not look forward to it.

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I had so much fun writing this dialogue when, in reality, dialogue is one of my weak points, alongside writing action scenes. I hope you liked this chapter ! It wasn't the longest one but it was one of them! (7 pages and approximately 3700 words).

I read all of your comments and I love every single one of them. Thank you so much for following me and my fanfictions, thank you for leaving kudos and thank you for leaving such lovely comments. It really means so much to me, I mean it.

See you on the next chapter, take care everyone ! :)

=> Chapter 13

[javier-djarin]

Feels Like Yesterday: Chapter 6

Ship: Frankie Morales x Elena Bohannon (OC)

Rating: M

Word Count:  6,278 Words

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Drug Use

Masterlist

Summary: Elena and Frankie need to come to terms with what happened on the dock earlier that day. Frankie asks Elena a difficult question that she doesn’t quite know the answer to. Liam finally arrives on the scene.

A/N:  I hope you all are enjoying this fic so far. It’s been fun but also hard to write it. Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. I’ve started my grad school classes, so I haven’t really had time to write. I will do my best to try to post chapters weekly, though. Chapter 7 is already in the works. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please let me know what you think and if you want to be in my tag list!!

“How he wished to see her move other than the fleeting moments he shared with her at both dawn and dusk.”

Frankie grabbed a beer out of the fridge and walked out onto the porch. Rae rose from her seat next to Elena and indicated he should sit there. He sighed and obliged, not wanting to cause a scene. He sat down on the bench next to her and she glanced over at him without saying anything. He saw Will and Benny exchange knowing looks. Damn that sibling connection. He sighed and took a long pull off his beer bottle. 

He wished he could read Elena’s mind, because he craved to know what she was thinking about right now. She was fidgeting with the loose string on her shorts and tapping her fingers on her beer bottle as she stared into the fire. Everyone else seemed to be oblivious to the uncomfortable air between the two of them. He could see her brow wrinkle as she chewed on her bottom lip. He honestly didn’t need to read her mind to know what she was thinking. To her, she betrayed Liam. But to Frankie, Liam betrayed her the moment he decided her body wasn’t good enough for him to worship the way Frankie craved to do every day for the rest of his life. Selfish asshole, he thought to himself. He looked at her with such longing, and he didn’t care if everyone noticed. At this point, he wanted them to all know just how in love with her he really was. 

Frankie reached up and grabbed the hand that was messing with her shorts and held it in his. She turned her head to glance at him and gave him a weak smile. She curled up on the bench and leaned into him as he threw his arm around her shoulders. Suddenly they were both taken back to the last campfire they had at the lake before she left for college. They’d both drank way too much that night and made out on the dock. Frankie was the first one to stop when he’d realized what they were doing. Both he and Elena laughed about it and agreed it was the booze, not repressed feelings they had for each other. If only we had been honest with each other then, he thought. 

She sighed and looked up at him. Elena leaned closer, whispering in his ear, “I’m not upset with you. I could never be. I just have a lot to sort out.”

He didn’t bother hiding his smile when he looked down at her. “Take all the time you need, mi Luna.”

They stared into each other’s eyes, both wanting to lean in - close the distance between them. “Kiss!” Benny and Will exclaimed, drawing out the word as much as they possibly could.

Instantly, Elena separated from Frankie and glared at them as she took another swig from her beer. “Nice, assholes,” Tom said, throwing a stick at them. 

“What!” Will exclaimed, “everyone was thinking it!” He looked over to Elena and gave her one of his signature winks.

Frankie shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned forward and stared into the fire. He flipped them both off, which drew a laugh out of them, before glancing at her. She had resumed the same position she was in before he disturbed her. His heart ached to reach out again, to talk to her, but he knew she'd put those walls back up - protecting herself from everyone and everything. He glanced at her before looking across the fire at Pope and Rae who gave him a sympathetic look. 

Rae stood up and walked over to Elena. "I need help in the kitchen," she said.

As if she was on autopilot, she stood up and followed Rae back into the house. As soon as the door was closed Will leaned forward. "What the fuck happened today?"

Frankie looked over at David and Carla before looking back at Will. "I'm not going to talk about it in front of her brother," he said.

Will and Tom both grinned at him. "I'm sure David can handle it."

David made a disgusted face and shook his head. "I don't want to hear anything about my sister. As far as I'm concerned, she's becoming a nun."

Carla elbowed him in the ribs. "She's a grown woman."

He shook his head. "I need another beer," he said, walking into the kitchen. 

Frankie looked at Carla, almost pleading with her to leave, and she took the hint. He waited until they were all inside before he started telling them everything. They grinned at him when he was done. "Hey," Will encouraged, "She's just trying to figure things out right now. You showed her that you can give her way more than that fucker, Liam, could ever dream of."

Frankie shook his head. "You don't know them like I do. Whether she will admit it or not, she feels obligated to him. It doesn't matter how good today felt, she'll never leave him."

"Then, why is she so torn up?" Benny asked. "It looks to me like you opened her eyes to a whole lot more than just one of your many skills."

He sighed and slid back in his seat. "I just need to face it. I made a mistake all those years ago and lost her."

Will walked over to him and sat down. "Frankie, for all of our sakes, you can't give up on her. She's not Elena when she's around Liam. She seems smaller, meeker than the vivacious and beautiful woman we know. He's not good for her. You told Pope you 'died to let her breathe', well she's dying with Liam. Your sacrifice was for nothing if you don't do something about it now."

"She forgave you the minute you broke her heart,” Santi added.

Frankie looked between all of them and gave them a small grin. “I want to believe you,” he said, “but something’s preventing me from doing that.”

Tom sighed. “So, when does Liam get in?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Alright, men” he added, “we have jobs to do. Pope, you’ll pick up Liam from the airport with David. Benny, Will, Frankie, and I will go to the Bohannon’s and help set up the yard for the engagement party. Frankie, you’ll find Elena while we are there and do whatever it is you do. Pope when you’re getting close, text one of us. We will extract Frankie and get the fuck out.”

The backdoor opened and Elena and Carla walked out. She took her seat between Frankie and Will, and she seemed almost like a new person. She smiled at him and sat closer than before. “You all look so serious,” she laughed.

Will smiled at her and threw an arm around her. “I’m still looking for a date for David’s wedding,” he laughed, winking at Frankie over her shoulder. 

She laughed and leaned into him. “If Liam never makes it down here...”

“I thought he was coming down tomorrow.”

Elena shrugged. “You know Liam,” she replied, “I’ll be shocked if he’s here by the wedding.” She sheepishly looked over to Frankie who was leaning on his knees, staring into the fire.

“In that case,” he said, and leaned closer to her so only she could hear him, “I think you’ll already be spoken for.” He discreetly motioned for Frankie, and saw her look down and grin. “Do us all a favor, and forget that asshole. We miss seeing you when he’s around.”

“It’s not that simple,” she replied, losing her smile a little. 

Will squeezed her shoulder and stood up. “I think I need another beer. Frankie, you good?”

Frankie looked at his bottle that was almost empty. “I’ll take another,” he said. 

“I guess David is taking me home, then?” She asked, smiling at him.

“That’ll probably be my last one until after I get you home safe.” 

She moved closer to him and he wrapped his arm around her. His chest tightened as he felt her warm body press closer into his. God, how he wished things were different. He wondered what caused her mood to change. What did Rae say to her that made her so comfortable and happy? He looked over at Rae, standing behind Santi with her hand resting on his chest, and gave her a small smile. She tipped her bottle towards him before taking a sip. Whatever she did, he was grateful. She gave him just a few more precious moments with his Luna.

***

“It’ll be a full moon this week,” she said looking up as they stood outside the guest house. 

He smiled as he watched her gaze at the moon. Frankie has never seen a more beautiful site. Her gaze dropped and met Frankie’s and she smiled at him when she realized he’d been watching her instead of the moon. “I had fun today, Frankie.”

His heart raced. “Me too. Even though you did try drowning me.”

She chuckled and looked at him through her thick eyelashes as she moved closer. She rested her hand on his chest and could feel his heart beating fast. “We never got to have that movie marathon you promised me,” she said.

“Do you even have Top Gun here?” He smiled, closing the distance between them just a little more.

“It’s in the main house. I’m sure sneaking in is just as easy as sneaking out.”

He looked at her childhood home behind her and smiled, remembering the times they used to sneak out of the house to run through the fields and star gaze together. He’d hold her hand as she led him to their favorite spot on top of the hill before pulling him down next to her. Elliott would always catch them coming back. Frankie peered down at her, wanting to plant a soft kiss on her lips. But he knew that would ruin the perfect moment. He sighed as he ran his thumb over her bottom lip before turning to the truck. “We both know me following you into the guest house is a terrible idea. I don’t want you to feel any more guilt about what happened earlier today.”

Elena froze as she watched him walk back to the truck. She wasn’t mad, but definitely hurt that he’d leave like that. This time, she ran after him and put her hand on the door to prevent it from opening. “Mi Sol,” she said, “Just come in for a cup of coffee at least.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I have to get up early in the morning so we can get over here to help Mamá set up for Thursday.”

“Then just sleep on the couch,” she said, almost too fast. Her eyes grew wide as she realized what she’d invited him to do.

He smiled. “You want me to stay the night? Do you really think Liam would be okay with that?”

Elena frowned and knew that if Liam found out, he would be furious. But at this point, she was a grown woman who could make her own decisions. Liam be damned. He couldn’t control who she had and didn’t have in her life. “Liam doesn’t need to know. Besides, we are grown adults. I think we can keep our hands to ourselves. It’s not like we are going to jump each other’s bones the second we walk in.”

He was glad it was dark outside so she couldn’t see his flushed face as well, because that’s exactly what he imagined happening. “Luna…” he looked down at her pleading face. “Fine. I’ll stay for the movie, but I’m not staying the night.

She smiled and bounced towards the house to sneak in and find his favorite movie. He sat on the porch and waited for her as he ran through several scenarios in his head on how this night could go. His ideal scenario was the two of them wrapped up together, tangled in sheets with sweat glistening their bodies and her taste still on his lips. But he refused to put her in another situation she would regret. 

Within a few minutes, she ran back to where he sat with the movie in her hand. “I knew we still had a copy,” she smiled. 

They walked into the foyer and stood there for a minute, staring at each other. Elena handed him the movie. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Why don’t you get the movie and popcorn ready?”

He grinned. “Cualquier cosa para ti, mi Luna.”

She returned his smile and ran up the stairs to shower. The entire time, her mind raced. She thought of all the different ways this night would end: how she wanted it to end, how it should end, and how it probably would end. Earlier that night, Rae made her realize that this hadn’t happened by accident. She was given a second chance with Frankie to see if this was something they both wanted. Liam complicated everything, and Elena knew that she couldn’t stay with someone who controlled her as much as he did. She let the water run down her body as she reflected on the incident on the dock. Elena was confident that Liam never did that for her, and she’d never felt that way with him as she did with Frankie. She could still feel his hands, his mouth, on her body, and she wanted to feel him again. But Liam held a special place in her heart. He was there for her when she felt completely alone, and she couldn’t imagine repaying that kindness with betrayal.

Elena dried herself and slipped on an old shirt and lounge shorts before heading back downstairs to sit with Frankie. He had the movie ready with a bowl of popcorn. She resumed her usual spot and curled up next to him, to which he didn’t argue as they pressed play on the movie. They didn’t breathe a word the whole movie, but instead enjoyed each other’s company. 

As the credits began to roll, she looked up at him. She could feel the love pouring out of him as he gazed back at her. She smiled and curled closer to him. Frankie cleared his throat and asked a question he’d been dying to know the answer to. “Why him?”

She sat up and looked at Frankie. “What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath and frowned. “On the dock today, after we… well, you know. You said Liam never did that for you. To me that sounds like he’s more concerned with his needs.”

Elena instantly grew embarrassed. Her face flushed and suddenly she was extremely hot. She shrugged. “Our relationship isn’t built on sex,” she replied.

Frankie nodded and tried to find a way to understand, and he could only come up with one explanation. He tried to hide his chuckle as he thought about it. 

“What?”

He looked at her. “If I say it, you’ll get pissed.”

She crossed her arms. “Say it.” 

“I feel like you said that, because the sex isn’t good. He probably comes first every time.”

Elena slugged Frankie in the arm, hard. “You’re right, I am pissed, asshole.”

He laughed a little more, and then grew more serious as he rubbed his shoulder. “I don’t want to be right, mi Luna. You deserve someone who will take care of you the way you should be.”

She looked down at her lap and silently agreed. She never felt like she was a partner in her and Liam’s relationship. He wore the metaphoric pants in and out of the bedroom.

“I can tell you’re unhappy,” he whispered, putting his hand under her chin.

“He’s never betrayed me, Frankie.”

Her soft words cut him deep. She was clinging to Liam because he was at least loyal to her. Even though her argument was weak, it still stung: Frankie’s mistake coming back to bite him. “Why did you ask me to stay?” He asked, suddenly confident she was close to her breaking point.

Elena tensed up at the question, but was steadfast. She was not about to let him win. “I miss you in my life. We were closer than most people, and that connection is something I’ve sincerely missed.”

He shook his head and stood up. “I can’t accept that as an answer. Admit it, you’re just as curious as I am if this would work out.”

“I will always wonder if this would have worked out. But now I’m trying to enjoy the time I have with one of my best friends before he disappears for another ten years.”

“Friends? Friends don’t know the way the other tastes,” he blatantly replied, knowing that would stir something in her.

She huffed and crossed her arms, refusing to admit he was right. 

“Friends don’t make out on the dock feeling each other up. Friends don’t express their long forgotten romantic feelings that they still harbor.”

She’d had enough. “Friends don’t abandon each other.”

He stopped and looked at her. “Luna,” he said, “I’m trying to prove to you that I’m not going anywhere. I came back for you. As much as I knew it was a terrible idea, I let Santi talk me into coming. I had to see you.”

“And what’s going to happen in six months when you’re gone again for God knows how long?”

He dropped his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I won’t be leaving anytime soon. Not unless I’m called back for my hearing.”

Elena froze and looked at him. “Your hearing?”

Frankie sighed and looked at her. “I wish I could say I made Pops proud, but I fucked up. I’ve made more mistakes than I can count, and that includes losing you.”

“What happened, mi Sol?” She asked, reaching for his hand.

He refused to look at her, because he knew the second she learned about his past sins, all hope of him getting her back would be gone. “I failed a drug test.”

Her heart sank, but she held on to his hand and waited for him to finish. 

“I had cocaine in my system, and they took my license.”

She lightly squeezed his hand. “Cocaine?”

He nodded and looked up at her. He didn’t see judgement or fear in her eyes, but instead patience. “I’m not an addict,” he quickly added. “I just did it a few times recreationally, and they sprung a surprise test on us a few months back. My case is currently under review, but I can’t fly. And, based on my luck, they’ll keep my license.”

Elena sighed and looked at him. She didn’t have a response for him; a way to make it better. She knew getting that license meant to him and how he wanted to make her father proud of him. Her heart broke for him. She knew this should be a red flag and she should run, but something deep down stopped her. She could tell he was telling the truth. He wasn’t an addict. He just made a stupid decision that possibly ruined his career. Elena held onto his hand tighter. “Frankie,” she began.

He pulled his hand from hers and turned away, unable to look at her anymore. “I know what you must think, and you’re right. I am a fuck up.”

She shook her head. “No, Frankie. You just made a mistake.” She stood up and wrapped her arms around him from behind. 

“He would be so disappointed in me.”

Elena rested her head on his back, feeling the tension in his muscles slowly relax under her touch. “Yes,” she agreed, “he would, but do you know what else he’d do? He’d tell you to dust yourself off and figure out a way to get that license back. He loved you like a son, and he would support you regardless.”

Frankie turned around in her arms to face her, giving her a small grin. “You’re amazing,” he softly said.

She blushed. “I didn’t do anything.”

He held her close to him. “I think you should go upstairs. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She looked at her watch. “Frankie, it’s late. At least stay on the couch. There are extra blankets in the hall closet.”

He hesitated for a minute, looking from the stairs to her. He knew that he wouldn’t get any sleep that night. Frankie shook his head at her. “I’ll see you in the morning, mi Luna.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead before walking past her. 

She stood in the living room unsure about most of her feelings. Elena heard the truck start, and she rushed to the window to see him sitting in his truck with his hands running through his hair as his hat sat on the dashboard. He couldn’t bring himself to leave, and she felt her heart race. Part of her wanted to run out to him and the other part wished he’d storm back in. The longer she spent with Frankie, the more she could feel herself slipping away from Liam, from her life in New York. She saw the truck lurch forward and her heart broke just a little as she watched him drive away. Elena walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine as she ran through the same thoughts she was sure Frankie dealt with only moments before. As she walked upstairs, she turned one last time to look at the door, hoping he’d come bursting back through any minute. Much to her disappointment, he never came.

***

She was working outside, helping her mother in the backyard, moving furniture and pulling weeds in the garden, when the guys showed up. Pope had volunteered to ride with David to pick up Liam from the airport while the rest of them helped Antonio with some yard work/heavy lifting that Gloria had assigned them. She peered over her shoulder at Will, who had tossed a clump of dirt at her as he walked up. “Watch yourself, Miller,” she laughed, “I’m armed with garden shears.”

He smiled and raised an eyebrow at her. “You don’t scare me, little sister.”

She approached him and wrapped a sweaty arm around his waist. “I hope you brought more muscle with you than this. Antonio is going to need all the help he can get.”

He rolled his eyes and flexed his arm. “You mean this? I don’t think you have to worry about it.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself there, Ironhead,” Frankie laughed behind him. 

Elena grinned at Frankie, noticing him taking in the sight of her. She was in a tight tank top and short shorts. She’d dressed this way on purpose, trying to provide herself with a little entertainment while she worked. And, just as expected it worked. He almost tripped over some cobblestones at the sight of her. “Oh, and you’re much better.”

“I just might be,” his mouth went instantly dry. 

She shook her head and walked back to the garden. “There’s not enough room in the garden for my plants and your egos.”

Will threw an arm around Frankie and led him to the barn with the rest of the guys. “We’ll be wanting that iced tea soon, ‘Lena.”

She flipped them off and laughed as she watched them leave. Gloria joined her in the garden and smiled. “It’s nice to see Frankie happy again,” she said.

“Mama,” she said, “don’t start. Liam will be here in a couple of hours.”

Gloria let out a disgruntled sigh and shook her head. “I’ll never understand, mija.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

She held her hands up in defeat. “Alright, if you don’t want me to say anything, I won’t. It’s your life. Do as you please.”

“Thank you,” she said in a sarcastic tone. 

Carla walked out to the garden. “Gloria,” she said, “my mother is on the phone and wants to talk to you.”

She followed her back into the house while Elena continued working in peace in the backyard. It only took an hour more before she got the garden looking perfect. She wiped her sweaty forehead with the back of her arm and walked inside to grab a drink. There was a tray of iced tea on the counter, and so she picked it up to take to the guys. 

She could hear them arguing the closer she got to the barn. Benny was the one talking at Frankie, and so she clung to the side, eavesdropping. “Frankie, seriously, go out there and help her in the garden. Pope is trying to stall Liam as much as possible. We can only buy you so much time.”

“It’s over,” he said, tossing something on the ground, “Liam’s here. He’s in Texas. The minute he gets here she will run into his arms and it’ll all be over.”

She heard Tom clear his throat. “We’ve been saying for days now. She is not happy with Liam. You know it too. We can see it on her face every time you’re around that she’s starting to see it too. Why do you think she was so upset about yesterday?”

They all think I’m miserable? She thought to herself. Elena was suddenly annoyed with them.

“Mijo,” Antonio added, “If I have to watch her brother walk her down the aisle and give her away to Liam, I will personally stand up and object. I can’t watch her end up with that cabrón. I won’t do that to Elliott’s memory.”

She felt a twinge in her chest at Antonio’s sudden outburst. She thought, if anyone, he’d support her; even out of respect that he was her step-father.

“I’ve done everything I could,” Frankie said, moving something else, “I’ve told her that I’ve loved her since the beginning and that there is no one else for me.”

“Okay, but you were the dumbass that came home last night,” Benny said.

“Exactly,” Will added, “she gave you an open invitation to stay the night, Catfish. How you turned that down is beyond me.”

“Because I knew she would have hated herself after it. Just like she did after the dock,” he sighed.

“Jesus Christ,” Will mumbled, “She hated herself because she enjoyed it.”

Elena gripped the tray of drinks tighter and walked in, clearing her throat. They all snapped to attention, and Frankie didn’t meet her gaze. He prayed that she didn’t hear any of that as she walked over to them with their drinks. Elena smiled at them and tried to act casual. “Don’t worry, Will, I spit in yours,” she weakly smiled.

“Ah, yes. The secret ingredient. Extra love,” he laughed.

She winked at him and passed out the drinks. “Frankie,” she said, “I need help moving the patio furniture. Would you mind?”

He took a giant swig from his glass. “Of course not. I’ll be right there.”

She smiled at him and turned to leave the barn. Will nudged him. “She heard every damn word,” he said, “otherwise she would have asked Benny. He’s her bitch when it comes to needing help.”

“She feeds me,” Benny laughed.

Frankie shook his head and finished his tea. He ran after her and saw her on the patio, trying to move a picnic table. He rushed over and grabbed the other side. “Thanks,” she said, looking at him.

He smiled at her. “How much did you hear?” he asked, sheepishly.

She dusted her hands off on her shorts and looked up at him. “I walked up at about the time Benny told you to man up.”

His face instantly grew red as he looked over at her. “I’m…”

She started pulling tables out of the basement to line the patio with for the food. “I wish things were that simple,” she said in reference to what she heard, “but they’re not. The more time we spend together, the more I never want it to end. But the second you’re gone I am reminded of the life I built for myself in New York City. I built it. Me. All by myself. It’s the life I’ve always wanted, and the second you walk back in I realize that something’s missing. I wish there was a way for me to clear my head and think straight; figure out what exactly it is that I want in life, because ever since you came back my world has been turned on its head.”

He grabbed her hand. “Let’s go somewhere,” he said.

“Where?”

“Just trust me.” He smiled at her as he pulled her away from the house. 

He led her to the fence and hopped over, before helping her over. They walked along the fence line for several yards before reaching the base of a hill that they began to climb. She smiled as she realized they were going to their favorite spot to sneak to at night. They would lay on the ground and look up at the stars. Frankie would tell her all about how one day he would become a pilot and how he’d soar so high he’d touch the moon. She’d make him promise that no matter where they wound up, they’d still look up at the moon every night so they could still be together. Sometimes they’d fall asleep on the hillside, only to wake up when the sun started to peak over the horizon, rushing them back to the house before the rest of the family woke up. 

They ran up the side of the hill, finding it much harder than when they were kids, until they reached their spot. Frankie pulled her down next to him and they stretched out on the grass. She laid on her back and he balanced himself on his forearm as he gazed down at her. “Luna,” he said, after he managed to catch his breath, “I can’t make you make a decision or leave everything you worked so hard for. All I can do is tell you how I wish everyday that I’d wake up next to you, because everyday I wake up I know there’s something missing. You are what’s missing because I fucked up all those years ago. I lost precious time with you instead of being the man I should have been.”

He moved a piece of stray hair off her face and lightly ran his fingers down her cheek and then neck, until his hand rested on her side. He stared down at her, waiting for her to say something, but instead she rested her hand on his cheek and smiled at him. “I can’t just leave all of that behind,” she said, her voice cracking, “I have my restaurant, plans for my future that are all tied to New York.”

He rolled back on his back and sighed. “I remember when we were kids and we thought we’d never change. We’d always be together, even if it was by staring at the moon. We felt invincible, thinking it would always be like that - never ending.”

Elena moved closer to him and looked up at the clouds. “We had no idea we’d end up going separate ways that would lead to this. Now all that’s left are scars and torn up photographs.”

Frankie laid there with his eyes closed and his arm around Elena as he pictured them as teenagers in the same spot, sharing their dreams for the future; neither of them ever apart in their fantasies. If only he could go back and stop himself. He rolled back over to look down at her. “‘Lena, if you can tell him you are honestly, truly happy with Liam and the life you’ve made in New York - I mean really make me believe you - I will drop it. I’ll go back to my life and let you live yours.”

“I don’t want you out of my life, mi Sol,” she pleaded, resting her hand on his cheek again.

He shook his head. “I can’t be in your life the way you’d want me to, unless it’s the same way as me. So, please, just answer the question. Are you utterly happy with your life?”

She looked into his eyes and suddenly lost all train of thought. She couldn’t think of an answer to give him. The natural response should have been yes, but in that moment she was unsure. She didn’t know if she was happy, confused, or just miserable. “I-I don’t know, Frankie.”

Frankie felt his heart stop as he closed the distance just a little between them. “That’s not an answer. It should be an easy question for you if you’re happy.”

She shrugged. “Well, your sudden appearance in my life has seemed to complicate things.” Her hand involuntarily moved to his shirt, pulling him even closer.

Their lips were so close they could almost feel each other. Just as Frankie closed the remaining gap between them and he tasted her sweet lips, he heard, “Fish!” from down the hills.

He sighed and looked up. He saw Benny running up the hill towards them. “Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. “What do you want, Benny?”

“We gotta go,” he said.

Frankie took a deep breath and looked down at Elena. “Liam’s here,” he added.

Elena felt her heart stop. Suddenly terror rushed through her veins as she tried to find a way to explain the whole situation. She knew it was unavoidable: the second she and Liam were alone later tonight, they’d have the biggest fight of their relationship.

They both stood and dusted the grass off their clothes as they quickly followed Benny back to the house. They’d made it into the backyard just in time for David’s car to pull up. Elena’s heart raced faster with each step she heard coming through the house. Her stomach dropped as she heard the screen door open and slam shut behind him. She looked up at the deck and saw Liam standing there, smiling down at her. It was almost like he hadn’t seen Frankie at all. She and Frankie exchanged worried glances as Liam made his way down the stairs, dressed in his usual business casual attire that he always adorned for his plane rides. He used to tell her, “you never know when you’ll meet a future associate.” Whereas, she was always content with her leggings and t-shirts when she traveled alone. 

Liam slowly approached her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Frankie suddenly felt a tightness in his chest. The pressure was building to a point that he wasn’t sure he was able to control it, but he managed to keep it under wraps for her. He almost lost it when he watched Liam’s hands travel down her body and cup her, pulling her closer to him as he kissed her deeply. Benny instinctively wrapped his arm around Frankie’s shoulder, just to play it off as brotherly. But Frankie knew he was doing it to keep him from exploding. Finally, when he came up for air, Liam looked down at Elena with a wide smile on his face. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said, “the apartment hasn’t felt the same since you got on that damn plane.”

She looked up at him and feigned a smile. “It’s about damn time you got here,” she said, “I was beginning to wonder if Will was going to be my date to the wedding.”

Liam shot a glance over at Will, who was slowly walking up from the barn. “I would hope he’d know to keep his hands off you.”

The way Liam said that made Frankie’s blood boil. It was almost possessive, and he felt like it was a challenge. He wanted to walk straight over to Liam and rip her away from him, free her from his dominating presence. Will glared at him and grinned. “You know I’d be respectful enough to wait until after she was tired of your sorry ass,” he said with a laugh, trying to play off his blatant insult as a joke.

He pulled her closer to him, wrapping an arm tight around her shoulders. Frankie was growing more tense as he could see the discomfort in her eyes. Liam was holding her just a little too tight. Frankie was balling and unballing his fists to help himself remain cool, and his method was slowly failing him.  Elena tried to push away from Liam a little bit, but he firmly held her in place. 

“Where’s Redfly at?” Liam snidely asked. “It’s been a while since the whole gang got together.”

“Tom,” Benny replied, correcting him, “is in the barn helping Antonio. But I’m sure you’ve heard us mention our other brother, Frankie here.”

Finally the ice was broken. Benny, the bastard, decided to do it for everyone. Liam tensed up, and held Elena closer even more so; if that was even possible. Frankie took a deep breath and bore a hole through Liam’s skull with his gaze. “Liam,” he coldly said, extending his hand.

Liam glanced at the gesture and ignored it. “Frankie.”

He turned Elena away and walked with her towards the guest house where David was dropping off Liam’s things. She tried to look back at the guys, but he held her close to him so she couldn’t. Frankie let out an aggravated sigh as he stared between Benny and Will. He waited for Santi and Tom to join them before he let loose. “If he doesn’t keep his hands off her,” he growled, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

Translations

Cualquier cosa para ti. - Anything for you.

Tag List

@larakasser @magneticbucky @wickedfrsgrl @wander-lustbabe @pedropascalownsmyheart @frietiemeloen @fioccodineveautunnale​

[laurianos]

Prince’s Gambit - Chapter 19 *waggles eyebrows* Summary

@failes-xtra-bits

Quotes in bold. My comments, thoughts and dumb jokes in italics.

As we all know, this is the chapter where they do the sex. It was very hard not to include everything, but I have summarised and picked out some bits that I’d like to talk more about. Sorry lads, this is a long one, but I have many thoughts!

Before I start, I’d like to mention how interesting it is that the events of chapter 18 lead straight into this chapter.

Things might have turned out very differently if Jord had never interrupted the Lamen kiss on the battlements. In chapter 17, Laurent is calm and in a good mood after their victory. He accepts that he wants Damen and is willing to let himself have him, even just for one night. In chapter 17, every time Damen and Laurent speak, it’s as if they are in their own intimate bubble, everything around them is just a hazy blur, like time is on pause. The next morning they would have to face reality but just for one night they can forget it all and have each other.

Instead things take a big turn in chapter 18 and we now have Laurent in a foul mood. Old wounds have been reopened. While he is left alone, he has time to think. He is reminded of the abuse from his uncle and his brother’s death. The person he has come to trust and love is his brother’s killer. With all of that comes a mix of feelings. In his current situation, any wrong move could cost Laurent everything. The Regent plots against him, always seeming one step ahead. The pressure is on. He is no longer distracted by their earlier victory. Things feel very real again. When Damen and Laurent finally do sleep together, it’s not with the mood of chapter 17, it’s after a harsh reminder of pain and everything else that is at stake.

So with that in mind, here is the chapter 18 summary:

Damen is angry. He orders the section clear (again).

‘Are there orders for what should be done with the prisoners?

Throw Aimeric off the battlements. (XD) ‘Keep him confined in his rooms.’

‘Yes Captain.’

‘I want this whole section kept clear. And Guymar?’

‘Yes, Captain?’

‘This time, I want it actually kept clear. (I Love Damen’s Sass! XD) I don’t care who is about to get molested. No one is to come here. Is that understood?’...

He wanted to make a barrier that protected Laurent from anyone who would intrude on him. He’d keep that perimeter clear, if it meant stalking these battlements and patrolling it himself.

He knew this about Laurent. That once he gave himself time alone to think, the control returned, reason won out.

On Damen’s way out, he asks one of the guards to ‘Watch over the Prince,’ saying ‘Anything he needs, make certain he has it. Take care of him.’ and ‘He deserves your loyalty.’

Damen finally goes to ‘his’ room. He drains a cup of wine, unpins his Captain's badge, looks out the window and thinks.

...

Laurent enters the room. Damen realises who’s room he is standing in. Laurent steps forward.

...

Laurent said, ‘I know you’re planning to leave tomorrow. You’re going to cross the border, and you’re not going to come back. Say it.’

‘I-’

‘Say it.’

‘I’m going to leave tomorrow,’ said Damen, as steadily as he could. ‘I’m not going to come back.’ He drew in a breath that hurt his chest. ‘Laurent-’

‘No, I don’t care. Tomorrow you leave. But you’re mine now. You’re still my slave tonight.’ (Laurent probably thinks, if he can just have this for one night and have it over with, hopefully the feelings will go away and he can return to ‘normal’ afterwards.)

Laurent pushes Damen onto the bed.

‘I-don’t-’

‘I think you do,’ said Laurent

Laurent starts to undress Damen.

‘What are you doing?’ Damen’s breath was shaky.

‘What am I doing? You are not very observant.’

‘You’re not yourself,’ said Damen. ‘And even if you were, you don’t do anything without a dozen motives.’

Laurent went very still, the soft words half bitter. ‘Don’t I? I must want something.’ (I wonder if Laurent gets sick of people making assumptions about his character. Probably. He was clearly irritated by something Damen said. Perhaps because this is the one time he has no motivation. He is with Damen purely because he wants to be. In fact I’m sure he’d rather he didn't want Damen at all but he couldn’t help himself.)

‘Laurent, he said.

‘You take liberties,’ said Laurent. ‘I never gave you permission to call me by my name.’

‘Your Highness,’ said Damen, and the words twisted, wrong in his mouth. (I’d just like to mention that Pacat once said she likes the idea of Damen calling Laurent ,‘Your Highness’, in bed XD) He needed to say, Don’t do this. But he couldn’t think past Laurent, improbably close. (I think Damen is in disbelief but also torn. He wants this so badly but wonders if this is what Laurent really wants, and if he’s in the right mood to be making this decision) ... 

‘I don’t think you want me. I think you just want me to feel this.’

‘Then, feel it,’ said Laurent.

Laurent continues to undress Damen, unlacing his trousers.

‘I see you are everywhere in proportion.’ XD

Laurent proceeds to give Damen a hand job.

The grip felt more like ownership than a caress...

The rise and fall of Laurent’s hand was like the slide of Laurent’s words, like every frustrating argument that they’d ever had, stymied, tangled up in Laurent’s voice. He could feel the tension in Laurent, sharp like the feel of his own heartbeats. Laurent held his former mood within him, constrained, and converted into something else.

...

Laurent said, ‘Adequate.’ XD 

One of my favourite things about this chapter, is how it didn't quite go the way I thought it would. We all knew Damen and Laurent would eventually sleep together, but I didn’t think it would be like this. The start isn’t so much of a surprise. Laurent’s mood from chapter 18 carries on into this one. I expected angst, and we got some. 

But this is when it changes. It’s slow and tender and full of emotion. We see Laurent’s vulnerabilities and hesitation. This is why I love it so much. It’s not just sex for the sake of sex. Fine, yes, we get all the juicy details (and I’m certainly not complaining about that 😏) you would expect to find in a smut chapter, BUT, it’s so much more than than that. There is actual character and relationship development. It is the most open and honest the two have been with each other so far. It was the moment we were all waiting for and it did not disappoint.

Damen said, ‘Kiss me.’...

He had pushed himself up, so that his body made a curve, the planes of his abdomen shifting. Laurent’s gaze splayed out instinctively over him (Laurent be checking him out like 👀), then lifted to his own...

He could feel the desperate urge for retreat. He could feel something else too, Laurent keeping himself apart, as though, this act being finished, he had no template for what to do.

With Laurent finished (or rather, Damen finished XD), it releases some of the tension from earlier and Laurent’s bad mood seems to have disappeared. He is no longer acting on impulse driven by mixed emotions. He can’t hide behind anger any longer. He is forced to experience it all and confront his own feelings with his guard lowered.

‘Kiss me,’ he said again.

They kiss. Then Damen draws back and kisses Laurent on the neck.

It was not what Laurent had expected. He felt the slight shock of Laurent’s surprise, and the way Laurent held himself, as though confused as to why Damen wished to do this (poor boy is affection starved 😭)

They kiss again deeply.

Damen starts to undress Laurent. 

He thought of the servant he had seen attending Laurent earlier, how much he had disliked it. (Jealous boi 😛)

Damen removes Laurent’s jacket and shirt. He sees that Laurent is aroused.

Laurent said, ‘Did you think I was made of stone?’

He couldn’t stop the rush of pleasure he felt at that, said, ‘Nothing you don’t want.’

‘You think I don’t want it?’

...

Laurent pushes Damen back with his boot, and Damen removes it. 

They kiss again and Damen starts unlacing Laurent’s trousers, removing them.

Damen gives Laurent head.

For all his seeming experience, Laurent reacted like an innocent to this pleasure. He let out a soft shocked sound...

.... Laurent’s slight, helpless shifts and pushes, the quality of his surprise, and the hard act of repression that followed, as Laurent tried to even out his breathing...

Damen could feel Laurent’s cycle of reaction and repression beneath him, as impetus gathered, building in the lines of Laurent’s body.

And felt it stymied. As rhythm built, Laurent’s body locked down, his responses repressed... Laurent, out on the shattered edge of pleasure, was holding himself back from climax by sheer force of his impossible will...

After a long moment Laurent said, with painful honesty, ‘I... find it difficult to let go of control.’

‘No kidding,’ said Damen XD

...

The words fell into a stillness between them. Laurent’s breathing was shallow, and his cheeks were flushed as he closed his eyes, as though he wanted to block out the world. (He desperately wants to forget all his conflicting thoughts so he can just feel and experience this moment.)

‘I want,’ said Laurent, ‘I want it to be simple.’

‘Turn over,’ said Damen...

Laurent closed his eyes again, as if in decision. Then he acted.

Laurent turns over onto his front. (Damen is not prepared and dies slightly from shock.)

He felt nervous suddenly, green, as he hadn’t felt since he was thirteen - uncertain of what lay on the other side of this moment, and wanting to be worthy of it.

Damen mentions how tense Laurent seems. He turns Laurent over again to face him.

‘... a desperate irritation that overlay something else... For all his bizarre nervy tension, Laurent was indisputably eager, physically...

‘Contrary, aren’t you,’ said Damen softly, thumbing over Laurent’s cheek.

‘Fuck me,’ said Laurent.

‘I want to,’ said Damen. ‘Can you let me?’...

The idea of being fucked very clearly had Laurent out of his mind, as desire competed with some sort of convoluted mental objection that really needed, Damen thought, to be dispensed with...

DAMEN!!! How do you not know?!!! How have you not picked up on what could be wrong?! gaaahhh! ... *sigh* BUT I will put my frustrations for oblivious Damen aside. Pacat does mention she felt it had to be that way, that Damen shouldn’t know.

‘I am letting you,’ said Laurent, the terse words pushing out. ‘Will you get on with it?’...

In Laurent’s eyes, impatience and tension overlay something unexpectedly young and vulnerable. Damen’s heart felt exposed, outside of his chest.

...

A wild vial appears.

He could look nowhere but at Laurent, both of them here with nothing between them, and Laurent allowing it...

It was intensely private...

The reality of it was different; Laurent was different. Damen had never thought it could be like this, soft and quiet and acutely personal.

...

Let the sex commence!

...

You’re mine, he wanted to say, and couldn’t. Laurent didn’t belong to him; this was something he could have only once. (*sniff* cri! 😢) ...

To get what you want, you have to know exactly how much you are willing to give up. (*sobbing* 😭)

Never had he wanted something this badly, and held it in his hands knowing that tomorrow it would be gone, traded for the high cliffs of Ios, and the uncertain future across the border, the chance to stand before his brother, to ask him for all the answers that no longer seemed so important. A kingdom, or this. (*ugly crying* 😩 *balling eyes out* 😭😭)

...

Climax. End.

[the-sunshine-dims]

1. “I guess you’re my soulmate then. I wasn’t expecting this, to be completely honest.” Roman and Deciet

Graced with you

okay my brain wasnt allowing me to actually write how i normally write so bullet fic! (i think thats the word!) sorry it took so long!

Also its unedited, and so sorry mobile users

words: 1583

ao3 link

contents and warnings: mentioned/referenced bullying, ptsd(?), roceit, soulmate au, teachers willfully ignoring bullying, pining, panic attack, hurt/comfort, human au,

____

Okay so soulmate au right?

Janus has a big splotch of a hand on the side of his face, and that plus his natural sarcastic demeanor his fellow middle school kids end up bullying him, because it looks like janus’s own soulmate hated him enough to slap him, and the teachers (With their own prejudice) ignore the bullying

Janus grows up to kind of hate his soulmate, trying to wall himself up because he doesn't want to grow even slightly fond of someone who hated him that much and caused him so much hurt

So time skip of him not getting close to anyone besides an emo guy named virgil and he’s in college

And he lives in the dorms with a roommate, this roommate is named roman, their a loud but sweet and pretty considerate theater major, and by the second month of Janus living in the dorm he gets a crush on this roman,

but hey, its not like he’ll ever tell roman about it,

So things continue into the months, and things are fine, roman to Janus’s relief had quickly found out Janus wasn't the biggest fan of physical touch (which isn't the whole truth but he appreciated it nonetheless) so Janus didn't have to awkwardly decline excited high fives or hugs anymore so he didn't have to see the disappointed look roman gave when roman thought Janus stopped looking

And on roman’s side he’s also had a crush on Janus, which is why he looks so absolutely dejected when declined even a high five, but he would die before doing anything that makes Janus even the slightest uncomfortable so he instead goes to his best friends, Patton and Logan, and rambles about the small interaction janus and roman had that day. Patton offers hugs and Logan always just sighs, grateful that him and Remy were platonic soulmates so Logan never had to dealing with those kinds of feelings,

And for a while its routine, Janus and roman get home, if the other one is there they might watch a show or just get their work done, then later janus might scream into his pillow after roman’s left to (unbeknownst to him) ramble about how silky soft janus’s voice is,

But the key word is for a while, because one day while janus is out shopping for food because he has more self preservation then to eat top ramen for every meal no matter how easy it is, he sees one of the kids who used to bully him, or at least that's who he thinks it is, because he didn't get a good look since he bolted from parking lot not a second after getting the smallest glimpse, flight pulsing through his veins so quickly as he hurriedly ran back to the dorm groceries in tow.

So after a bit he did get to the dorm and When he does he just kind of drops off the groceries onto the floor before running into his room and slamming the door, sliding down the wall to try and attempt to breathe as he keeps touching and itching the soul marked skin,

But unbeknownst to him roman hadn't gone to one of his classes that day meaning they were home, meaning he had heard the slam and also the hiccups and sobs.

So like roman doesnt want to intrude but he’s really worried because in the seven months of living with janus he’s never once heard janus cry, so he’s like standing outside the door, nervous that he might make janus somehow feel worse

But like eventually he’s just like “I’m a prince! I gotta help the person in distress!” so he quietly knocks and immediately janus is silent, terrified he had been caught crying, and once again feeling like he was in middle school no matter how many walls he’s built up

But after a couple minutes of pure silence and janus repressing his tears he realized he should respond to roman’s knock, and he was gonna tell them he was fine and to go away but he knows no one would believe it and virgil had talked to him about ‘repressing feelings’

So all that added up makes his mouth make a decision before his brain and he just kinda scoots out of the way of the door and mumbles “you can come in”

So roman does and he’s quickly distressed by janus’s state but they go to try and sit but then get an idea and bolt back to their room to grab something before coming back and plopping down a stuffed animal for janus that patton had given roman, because they didn't want to break boundaries but they knew janus needed a hug

So he plops the stuffy into janus’s lap which surprises janus but he quickly understand and wraps his arms around it tightly,

Roman is happy that it's been accepted and continues “what happened?” he tries before adding “you don't have to tell me but my friend says telling people helps sometimes”

And janus is stuck between a rock and a hard place because he likes roman and roman’s never even spared a glance at the soulmark, just looking at him and they’ve never mocked him, but he’s terrified.

So after another minute he just mumbles into the stuffed animal “saw someone mean” without going into too much detail but still tears start pouring once again

Roman is frantic, not knowing what to do besides mutter words of encouragement like patton and logan sometimes do when he’s nervous about going onto stage at the community theater, so he’s just trying his best but it doesn't seem to help much, janus is hunching into himself even more and roman can't do anything-

And then they ask a question “can i touch you?”

And janus despite himself nods slowly

And the roman leans forward and cups janus’s cheek in his hand, carefully wiping away some tears from janus’s eye, and then blinking in surprise because right as he’s forgotten about soulmates, his palmside of their hand is suddenly a beautiful pastel yellow color and suddenly janus’s face is a brilliant red,

And as he retreats his hand to look at it, janus just hunches his shoulders, not knowing why roman drew away but sure it's somehow his fault.

But then roman looks practically starry-eyed as he stares at his hand and janus’s confusion grows infinitely more,

Then Slowly roman turns his head to focus on janus again before just carefully offering their hand, and janus, confused but wanting something to hold onto, does gingerly hold onto it.

And roman is just beaming and janus has no clue why until his eyes finally process a slight change.

Roman’s hand is yellow

Roman’s soul mark is yellow and janus was sure it wasn't before.

Suddenly his mind makes a connection

First touch + activated soulmark = soulmate.

He freezes; he was soul mates with roman? How? Roman was amazing? And roman somehow seems okay with that?

Before he has a chance to spiral (for a different reason this time) roman just throws his arms around him ecstatically because !!!they just found his soulmate!!! And it's janus!!!

And like janus is kind of overwhelmed by the touch but his mind is also so happy, so he just melts into the touch and tries wrapping his arms around roman in return, and though its not entirely successful their both just like “!!!”

And then roman- while grinning broadly just goes “can i pick you up?” and janus- kind of thinking its a joke goes in his most teasing voice “sure” and then suddenly he’s off the ground and being carried like a princess and roman is bringing him to the living room so they can sit down on this couch, the whole time grinning and janus is just trying not to fall.

Then janus is plopped securely on the couch along with Roman.

And he’s just raising a questioning eyebrow at roman, haven already forgotten the reason he had been sobbing and instead  just focusing on Roman’s beautiful hazel eyes

Roman smiles softly at him and with the softest voice they say “I guess you're my soulmate then..  I wasn’t expecting this to be honest“

Janus hums and in the most teasing voice he can manage (which is a bit strained) he goes “you disappointed?”

And Roman looks almost offended as he answers “of course not! I’m simply stating I didn’t expect to be graced with you as a soulmate!” “Graced?” “Well of course!!! I don’t know much about you but I already know you're absolutely wonderful!”

And Janus just rolls his eyes in an attempt to hide the blush the ignited in his cheeks before focusing on clumsily pulling out his phone from his pocket and looking at his face

And then suddenly his breath hitches because people said it was gonna be a mark of hatred and it was gonna look awful, but as he finally looks at his now activated soulmark all he can think of is how beautiful it is, with just the beautiful red and the knowledgeable it wasn’t created out of hate

So he ends up just pushing himself a bit closer to Roman so he can rest his head on him

And after a moment he smirks and goes“I think I’m graced to be your soulmate too” and even though the words are slightly teasing Roman can instantly tell their ever so genuine

So he smiled.