#she promised and she never fucking called! just one lousy fucking call to let me know she isn’t going to kill herself or anything! and i wa

[notmygrave]

she posted like parts of a photo from this summer on her instagram story doesn’t matter whatever i am in that photo and it’s the beach at the end of my street and i am going to be fucking sick i hope i really fucking hope it makes her a bit sick too

[macfrog]

little aphrodite sex on fire chapter nine

the amount i had to write jean-marc in this chapter makes me nauseous. anywho. these two heal my soul and make me weep. please enjoy a little look back at the ceo's experience of paris.

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: we're going back to paris. this time, through joel's eyes.

warnings: age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), workplace relationship, imbalance of power dynamic, alcohol consumption, ostentatious flaunting of wealth (eat the rich i say), sugardaddy!joel, softdom!joel, oral (f and m receiving), daddy kink, praise kink, cursing, angst & pining, and...well. the ceo falls in love.

word count: 7.5k

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He wasn’t even sure you’d say yes when he asked. Thought you’d find it a bit much, flying halfway across the world just for one lousy meeting. He had what he’d say when you turned him down in mind, already: Sure, yeah, no problem. No, I just thought – Yeah. ‘s alright. I’ll bring you back som’ as a souvenir.

But you didn’t.

Oh, yeah? you’d said. Your face seemed to light – humored, impressed even. It made Joel feel braver. Reassured. You’ve a habit of doing that to him.

Mhm, he replied, chewing on the sub you’d ordered him after his conference call. He can’t remember what he promised Human Resources he’d have done within the hour. You walked in as he was saying it, and – well. Two days, he said, swallowing, Saturday Sunday.

And are you gonna make me take minutes while you meet with this Jean-Marc? You wiggled your fingers as you said it, letting the name drip through your lips in some kind of dreamy song. I don’t make the flight back unless they’re typed up by the time we leave? That the catch?

No catch. You don’t even gotta come to the meetin’.

I don’t have to –? Wow, Miller. You’re spoiling me, no? You kicked your leg, one knee hooked over the other. Your skirt shrinking up your thigh.

You were sat in the chair on the right, opposite his desk. You always sit in that one – and Joel’s still trying to figure out why. The working theory so far is that it’s at a good angle to watch the city below, and at the same time, see exactly who comes and goes in and out of the office during lunch.

But there has to be more to it, he thinks. He suspects. Martha’s desk is, like, five feet from yours. She spends her lunches in the conference room with Deb, shaking salads doused in balsamic vinegar and sharing cross-floor gossip. They invite you every day, and almost every day, you turn them down in favor of his shuttered office, the muted swish of cars on the street, the mock gasps and clutch of invisible pearls when you share that same fifth-floor gossip with him over the desk.

You’d been talking while he’d been thinking about the damn chair. He hadn’t heard a word of it. Huh? he asked, and you rolled your eyes.

Ain’t never listenin’, you muttered, peeling the damp paper back from your own sub.

Say it again, Joel said. Was just making a mental note to book dinner for us over there.

You scoffed, licking mayo from the corner of your lips. Why you making mental notes for anything? That’s what you pay me for.

And you were right – it is what he pays you for. Pays you to be his shadow, his right-hand man, his eyes and his ears and his entire brain, some days.

But lately – he doesn’t know. It’s different.

Truth be told, he has no idea what’s gotten into him. Looking at you the way he is. You’ve fucked around twice, now, and both times have been…nothing short of fucking amazing. Both times, Joel’s thought he might come within the first two minutes. Pushing inside your velvet walls, watching the way you roll forward, hearing the lewd moans pour across your lips.

He’s always thought you were attractive. It’s pretty fucking hard to ignore. Physically, sure – the look of your body, the way you know how to dress it. And the prettiest, softest face he’s ever seen. You can win him over in any discussion without a word, just by fluttering your eyelashes at him.

But you’re more than that. He thinks of you both as friends, maybe something more. Something deeper. It’s in the glances you steal, the silent lines tossed between one another. The way you read one another like an open book. Sometimes, he wonders if you actually can read his mind.

You’re intelligent, you’re funny, and you’re a hard fucking worker. Always on time, always seemingly juggling thirty things at once, and never letting him down. Nothing is too much, it seems; everything just is as it is. And he likes that about you. Simple. No baggage.

The morning of the flight, you send him a voice note telling him you’re downstairs. “And I ain’t lugging two cases up to the top floor only to bring ���em back down when we’re leaving, Mr. CEO.”

He’s striding past Martha for the elevator before he’s even done listening to the message.

“Uh-uh!” she chirps, dashing over to slip between the brass doors behind him.

Joel sighs under his breath.

“I know better than to rely on you to remember all this stuff,” she says, holding up a file he’d asked her to put together for the trip.

She’s right not to – he’d probably leave that file in the car, or put it down somewhere and walk off without it. You’re the only one who can be trusted with it – with anything. You’re good at your job. And yet, he resents the fact that Martha’s about to lump you with even a fraction of responsibility for the next four days.

So when the Rolls pulls off and Martha is nothing but a pin-sized silhouette through the back window, still waving from the sidewalk, he pinches the folder in two fingers and tosses it to his left hip. Out of your grasp. You smile, eyes rolling, and pop your earbuds in. Joel breathes a laugh, eyes dipping again to skim read some contract on his phone. His hand is locked around your thigh. He likes that you just let him do it now.

Likes a lot of things about you. Likes that you put your music on shuffle, and then skip eleven tracks until you find one you actually want to listen to. Likes that your fingers twirl around the light chain of your necklace – the way they do anytime you’re nervous – and when he asks if you’re alright, you bareface lie to him and squeak, Yep.

Likes the glow the morning sun casts on you when you emerge from the car on the tarmac, pooling in the dimples on your cheeks, bright gold. The way you tug on the loose cotton of your sweatpants, bashful. Shy. And he likes that, when he follows you up the steps to the plane cabin, your awestruck expression lasts all of five seconds before that quick wit kicks straight back in.

“Feelin’ pretty guilty about all the air pollution,” you tell him, and Joel silently says his fifth thankful prayer this morning that he thought to ask you and not Martha.

He watches you settle into a seat by the window, watches you crane your neck to survey the view from the tiny circle of thick glass. He thinks about what he’d do if you were alone right now, if there weren’t crew slowly filing into the jet behind him.

He floats the idea. Tells you about the bedroom up back, tells you it’s cozy. You read between the lines just like he wants you to. And when the plane’s in the air, you follow after him.

You fall into bed together the same way you do when you arrive at the hotel. A tangle of limbs, of sweat and stuffy plane air. He sleeps the soundest he has in months – years, maybe. Pushed off by the sound of your breathing, the dip in the mattress by his side. The warmth which radiates from your body, the soft brush of your hand against his.

He puts it down to the travelling – the eight-hour flight, the plushy super king waiting on the other side. He puts it down to the way the world feels different, this side of the Atlantic. The privacy he feels come over the two of you, like sneaking into the next room: your voices muffled through the wall, your movements reduced to vague shadows beneath the door.

He watches you through sleepy eyes as you prance around the suite in the morning, twirling in and out of the bathroom while you get ready for the day. He wonders if this is what you’re like every day – if you spend your Monday mornings beaming like a little kid, toothbrush hanging lopsided from the corner of your mouth, white bubbles lining your gums. He wonders why he’s wondering. Why a part of him wants to see that version of you, too.

This version – now following his lead down Avenue Montaigne, doe-eyed and wonderstruck – is over all too soon. He’s dragged from her, from you, before he’s ready to leave.

His phone vibrates in his pocket right as he’s leading you out of some ridiculously overpriced jewelers – an irritating reminder of his meeting in an hour’s time.

“Fuck,” he whispers, holding you steady as you spin around to glimpse at the baroque building. “Hey, pretty girl,” he squeezes your hand, “I got some bad news.”

Your bottom lip pouts, eyes gleaming. It’s enough, he thinks, to convince him to stick around. If you asked him to, he’d text Jean-Marc right now and tell him to fuck off. But you tell him to go, tell him you’ll meet him back at the hotel once he’s done and you’re tired. With a teasing smirk and a tiny wave, you see him off down the cobbled street. He watches from the back window as you set off again, heading towards another iron-gated store.

Denis pulls up alongside the towering hotel, totters around the car to meet Joel as he stretches out of the Maybach. The square-jawed man stands with his hands linked, and nods enthusiastically when Joel thanks him.

“The shopping – I will take it back to the hotel,” he assures his boss, a wide smile on his lips.

He’s a good guy, Denis. He’s chauffeured Joel to five of these meetings over as many years – he knows the drill by now. Knows it’ll be a couple hours and a few whiskeys before he gets another call to pick him up.

His nodding doubles, more obedient when Joel asks him to make sure he listens for your call. “You mind stayin’ nearby that part of town?” he asks. “Just so – when she’s done, y’know…”

“Not at all,” Denis says, flapping two palms to the ground. Swatting away Joel’s concern, his worrying, his missing you.

He replies, a little absentmindedly, passing by the head of gray hair with a distant smile. “Thanks, Denis. See you later.”

Five meetings, five trips over here to be pestered by some obnoxious little man in an obnoxious little robe and obnoxious little loafers, and still, Joel never knows what to expect. He strides beneath the golden archway entrance into a domed lobby, every surface spotless and shining; marble counter in the center with a symmetrically-suited clerk sat behind.

She stands and smiles politely to Joel as he approaches, recognizing him with a flutter of her eyelashes. He feels the absence of your arm on his, an ache at his elbow.

“Monsieur,” she croons, pale fingers reaching for the telephone. She whispers something softly into the receiver and then nods, folding her painted lips together as she places the handset back into its cradle. With a floating hand aimed at the elevator behind her, she says, sultry and dreamlike, “He is ready for you.”

Joel fights an eyeroll with every fiber of his being. He wanders round the circular desk, bunches his shoulders into the tight elevator, and jams his thumb into the button marked P.

The doors shudder open when he reaches the top floor. He steps out slowly, waiting for the Frenchman to pounce on him like some kind of wild cat. Wouldn’t put it past him, Joel thinks. As he’s scanning the room, counting the six bouquets dotted around, there’s a single clap from behind the veiled curtains. A silhouette out on the terrace.

Jean-Marc swings between the sheer white, calling out to the lonely figure in his entryway. “If it isn’t my favorite American,” he sings, taking Joel by the arms and squeezing roughly. “How lovely to see you again, Joelie. Please, come.”

The sunlight blinds Joel when he steps out into it, peering over the city skyline under low brows. Jean-Marc is already sat at the top of a thin, glass table, pouring golden whiskey into a square glass and scooping two bulky ice cubes in. The nectar swirls around when the glass is held out to Joel, the ice tittering as he accepts it.

The table, a rocky terrain of pain au chocolat and brioche, pools of citrus spreads and dishes of butter. Joel keeps his hands to himself as Jean-Marc slaps jam onto a croissant, bronze flakes fluttering all over the table as he attempts to regale Joel with some investment into a casino.

“Riccardo says it is too much; I told him to go to hell. We will double the cost of the place, I know it, Joel. We have the eye for things like these, men like you and I, hm?”

Men like you and I, Joel thinks, lips tilting. He balances the glass on his thigh, watches the ice cubes turn over themselves. He thinks of you, thinks of the man you see him as. Thinks how tall he stands against the man Jean-Marc must see sat opposite him right now.

Thinks how rotten, and ugly, and how small the latter is. How easily you and your words could crumble him. All show, all sitting on perfect terraces with pretentious dickbags disguised as friends, drinking pissy whiskey with a plastered smile on his lips.

How comical it all is – the sound of yapping across the tabletop, These idiots would pay millions for manure if you painted it golden, the sprawling sheets of green-leafed plants, the headache-inducing flowers, the buckled loafers and the signet ring catching the sun.

How much he misses the weight of you on his hips, forearms flat on his chest, ear against his heart. The sound of your laughter lilting in his ear. The rosy smell of your skin and the feel of your eyelashes, featherlight on his cheek. He feels the distance between the two of you like elastic strung apart, stretching thinner and thinner, weaker and frailer, ready to snap into two halves at any moment.

“Anyways,” Jean-Marc says, lifting the wine bottle shakily. It clinks brashly against the lip of his glass, a painful scrape. Joel wonders if he’s already halfway to hammered. “Tell me how you’ve been, Joelie.”

Joel tells him he’s been fine. Business is fine. Money is fine. Company’s doing fine. Everything’s fucking fine. Easiest answer to avoid further questioning, to satiate Jean-Marc’s constant thirst for news, or intel, or just plain gossip.

He slips up, though. Makes the one colossal mistake he spent all morning hoping and praying and drilling directly into his brain that he wouldn’t.

Jean-Marc asks how his flight was, sticking the damp end of a cigarette to his bottom lip.

Joel says, “Good, yeah. We got here, maybe, ten o’clock last night.”

And Jean-Marc’s eyebrows arch. His hands freeze, match held against the striker strip. “We?” he asks, white stick flapping between his teeth.

“Uh,” Joel shifts in his seat. Your gentle wave, the corners of your lips, the toss of hair over your shoulder. It’s as though Jean-Marc can see his thoughts played on a reel before him, the haste with which Joel attempts to wipe you from his own mind. “Yeah,” he clears his throat, “Jerry ‘n Lisa. Len and Pol.”

The Frenchman’s eyes narrow, a grin pulling on his pink lips. “We,” he says again, whipping the match roughly against the strip. Speaking into cupped hands, a cloud of white billowing from his leathery fingers, he murmurs, “Joel brought company with him to Paris, yes? Who is the lucky tourist? Une petite amie?”

Joel’s tongue dabs at the sickly wash of whiskey on his lips. He thinks to grab the fucker by the throat, throttle him until the idea of you rattles from his skull, spilling back into Joel’s safe hands where you belong.

He almost fucking lies. Almost says it’s just Martha, or Drew, or his fucking mother. But Jean-Marc is like a rat, scurrying along after a source of water. He’ll find it in the end. They always do.

He breathes your name, reluctant to let it go. Jean-Marc cocks his head, leans in, a swirling snake of silky smoke lifting from the cigarette between his fingers. Joel repeats it, voice louder, but flatter. Breaks it into too many syllables. Lets his host hear every bite of annoyance.

“She’s my assistant,” he says, and Jean-Marc claps again.

“Your assistant! How wonderful. And where is she today? She is not…” his fingers circle the air, disturbing the trail of smoke, “…assisting you?”

“Gave her the afternoon off.” Joel lifts his glass to his lips. The geometric shape amplifies his voice, bass like the growl of a bear. “Busy couple days. She deserves some downtime.”

He hates the sound of your name as it peels from Jean-Marc’s tongue. Like a hangnail, the residue a gorge of bloody, torn skin. Your name is Joel’s favorite sound, he realizes now, and the way this little asshole keeps butchering it boils an anger so hot and so quick under his skin that he’s not sure he can hold it at bay.

It’s not as if he owns you or your name – far from it. He has no desire to be anything more than a placeholder: somewhere for you to slot your hand, rest your head, curl your body against. Still, he feels a direct protectiveness over you right now. An impulse to stand in front of Jean-Marc’s tiny figure, arms wide, stopping him from picturing you or learning about you or meeting you.

Which is, of course, exactly what the little fucker suggests.

A wet pff sound as he rids his mouth of bitter smoke, and he offers to host breakfast in the morning.

“No, no, we, uh –” Joel’s hands are up, like pleading with the man, whiskey kissing the lip of its glass, “– you don’t have to – Look, Jean-Marc, I’m sure you’re busy enough with all –”

“Nonsense!” Jean-Marc waves a hand. Ash sprinkles down the cuff of his robe. “It would be my pleasure. Shall we say, ten?”

Joel grumbles, eye following the flight of a bird in the distance. What are you doing right now? Are you back in the suite, trying on the outfit you picked out together? Are you still wandering down the streets, drinking up the lavish city like a perfect little cocktail of bliss and wonder?

And what the fuck does he have to do to excuse himself, to come find you, to wrap his arms around you and never let you leave his side again?

He feels idiotic. Juvenile. Like a stupid little teenager, pining for his junior year girlfriend. The feelings all sharp and brittle, prodding his heart roughly anytime he thinks too hard on them.

When he looks back to Jean-Marc – the cigarette tearing closer and closer to his fingers, an expectant smile on his lips – he concedes.

“Ten is fine,” he says, and suddenly, the sky casts over.

You’re on the terrace when he finally returns to the hotel room. Head aching from the alcohol and forced conversation, he drags himself over to you.

The sight of you, hair lifting in the breeze, the sweet smell and soft touch under his hands feels like the pouring of honey on a raw throat, like cool water lapping at his waist on a scorching day. And he needs more, and he feels the saliva pool beneath his tongue, and you’re touching him and talking to him and all he can think about is replacing his saliva with you – with every drop of you that you’ll lend him.

You follow his every request – parting your legs, making room for him between them, opening yourself to him like coming home after work, like sinking deep into your shared bed, like pushing your salt-slicked fingers on his tongue and chanting taste me taste me love me need me.

Petals opening, shards of orange separating. His cock throbs in his pants when he feels the circle of your hips against his jaw, the taste of sweet, sweet nectar spilling from your center. His clothes still smell of the smoke from Jean-Marc’s weedy lips; the sweat on his skin borne from three hours sat in the sun, dehydrated by whiskey, discussing money and gold and then money again.

He doesn’t want to fuck you here, like this. As that puny, pompous prick he’s felt like since the second he wandered through the Frenchman’s hotel doors. He can’t. You deserve him clean, new. You deserve the Joel you think he is – yours. Affected by your touch alone, moved by the gleam in your eye. You deserve him, Joel decides, on your terms.

And that same night, stood in the same spot, dregs of sunlight replaced by molten moonlight, staring at the dazzling Eiffel Tower against the deep blue sky – that same night, when he turns and clocks the silhouette of your body just feet from him, he realizes that this is it.

He’s sure he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, standing in the dim light, your fingers playing with the bust of the silk robe draped over your body. The jewelry on your neck catching the light like his own private attraction, his own little spectacle. Just for him.

He forgets any other version of himself. Shakes them off like seawater flying from his body as he emerges from the ocean. Venus stood before him; hair lifting in the light, palm over her breast. And he doesn’t notice the departure of those old versions; doesn’t feel the way they tear from his skin. His eyes are glued on you, only you, everything around the two of you reducing to dark matter. There is only his awestruck gaze pointed to your radiant form, as though the scene sits alive in the eye of Botticelli or Michelangelo.

Baby, he whispers, and you move forward, dragging him with you under a wave of lust and rebirth.

He stirs the next morning to the feeling of a weight shifting across his body, two divots in the mattress either side of his waist. Something nuzzling, warm and featherlight, into the nook below his earlobe. Wet kisses trailing down his neck.

There’s no weight of you in the crook of his arm anymore. He’s scooping thin air. He lifts it, and his palm meets the baggy cotton of his own T-shirt, draped over your body, draped over him.

A laugh brushes between his lips. “Mornin’, darlin’,” he croaks, voice still low and broken.

“Hi,” you whisper back, voice like silk and sugar and tufts of lustrous clouds.

He opens his eyes and you’re hovering over him. Tip of your nose circling his, hips light as air across his own.

You look so fucking cute, he thinks. He’d take what he had last night – you, dripping in black lace and bound by satin straps – every night for the rest of his life, if he could. If you’d grant him it. But, this. This.

You – in Joel’s clothes and nothing else. You – the curl of your hair now a lazy wave, the smoky afterthought of your half-removed makeup. The smell of sex still lingering on your skin, the taste of Joel still home on your tongue. Each part of you laced with a part of him.

You – holding yourself up over him, less than an inch apart, and all Joel thinks to do is wrap his arms around your back and let you drop onto his body; his strong, solid body, which accepts the weight of you with only so much as a tiny grunt over his lips when you fall on top of him.

You giggle. He swears he feels butterflies in his stomach. He prays you don’t feel them, fluttering purposefully against your ribcage.

“You’re an idiot,” you mumble into his collarbone, words curled by the smile on your lips. You suck a mark into the hot skin, teeth and flesh and sel et sucre, and then push off from his chest, nudging his thighs wider with your knee.

Your tongue drags a wet trail down his chest, from solid sternum to suppler stomach, following the thickening of hair the lower you move. You leave wet kisses along the crests of his hipbones, the gentle slope of skin leading you to the wide base of his cock, already stiff.

Joel’s breath hitches when your tongue sweeps across it. Your eyes lift and lock with his, fingers taking a heavy hold of him. He smiles, tongue sitting patiently behind his teeth.

“Go on, angel,” he nods, “put that pretty little mouth on daddy.”

You obey instantly, as hungry for it as he is, your tongue swiping from the base of him up, curling around as you reach the head. Swollen, gleaming, slit dripping with slick precome that you lick with just the tip of your tongue and send a roll of pleasure across every nerve in Joel’s body.

He falls back, hands searching for the back of your skull as your lips sink further down down down, tightening around the smooth skin, stopping only when they meet the tuft of hair decorating his dick. His tip pushes against the back of your throat. His head begins to spin.

His back arches, hands anchored on your head, holding you steady as you bob up and down. His shoulders push heavy into the mattress, tummy sucks in until the points of his ribcage mold through his skin. And, oh – you’re so soft with it, so wet and so warm and so good with your tongue, kitten licks over his tip, wet fist wrapped tight around the width of him.

You lift your hand and meet his halfway up his stomach, fingers intertwining, Joel’s knuckles instantly whitening.

“Doin’ so good, baby,” he groans, gasping when your throat constricts around him again.

You gag, choking with a wet grunt, but you never pull away. A quick pause, a heavy breath from your nostrils, and your movements resume.

“’s alright,” Joel coos, fingers rubbing against the back of your hand, “you got it. Atta-girl, fuck.”

His hips begin to lift, slowly jerking up into your mouth. He looks down, loosens the grip you have on his hand only to run his thumb delicately across your cheek, dabbing lightly at the tears in the corner of your eye.

You suck hard around him, cheeks hollowing, tongue flattening to his underside to let him fuck your mouth – a rhythm of sopping sounds and heartbeat hums from your throat. He’s close. He’s so fucking close.

“Just like that,” he tells you, and you blink up at him. Moans muffled by the mouthful of cock, saliva and sex slipping from your swollen lips. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come. You’re such a good girl – you want daddy to give it to you?”

Mhm, you mumble into the warmth of his cock, the vibration of your throat on the eager skin enough to send Joel over the fucking edge. He throws his head back, lifts his hips up to you, and fills your mouth at the same rate he fills the room with the sound of his orgasm.

You take every last drop. You’re so good for him. Once he stills, once the screaming in his ears subsides, once the room slowly desaturates back to normal, a faded, blurry normal – he sits up and hooks his hands under your arms, pulling you up into him.

You collapse against his chest for the second time this morning, giggling and licking the last of his come from your mouth. Joel guides your jaw towards his, lips meeting in the middle, and licks the salty aftertaste from your tongue.

He rolls you both over, your thighs sitting safe on his hips.

“I know,” you sigh, head rolling against the curve of his arm beneath, “I know. You don’t gotta tell me.”

“Tell you what, angel?” he asks, one eyebrow lifting.

“Best head you ever had. I know.”

He scoffs, lips finding the hinge of your jaw. You giggle into his ear, a sound softer than birds cooing at the break of dawn, sweeter than the first bite of ripe fruit – the sharp taste bursting across his tongue and coating his teeth in sugar, numbed by the holy coaxing of feathered doves.

“You’re good with it, I’ll give you that,” he murmurs, and the giggle erupts into a laugh which fuels him enough to follow your roll out of bed, tear his shirt from your shoulders, and slip into the shower behind you, kneeling before you when you turn to look.

Joel’s second encounter with Jean-Marc in as many days, goes about as well as the first.

He balls his fists as he introduces the pair of you, watches like a caged and bound animal as Jean-Marc’s eyes loop all around your face, your shoulders, the pull of your dress around your waist.

He knows he’s being quiet. The glances you keep stealing at him tell him you know it, too. He wishes there was something he could say, something his lips might be able to carve into a neat little sentence. Tongue sanding the jagged edges of what he’d really like to say into a joke, a quip to ease the tension you so obviously feel.

But he can’t. His tongue isn’t blunt, isn’t defensive. It’s sharp like the kiss of venom, protective and aggressive. He knows he’d do better to hold it tight between his teeth.

The best he finds himself able to do is keep a heavy hand on your thigh, let you wrap your fingers around his own, squeeze you in place of whispering in your ear.

You hold your own, up against Jean-Marc. He knew you would. He learned less than a week into working with you, not to underestimate you. Your quick tongue, the million and one observations hidden behind the flash of a frown. He knows you can read Jean-Marc – probably better than he can, having known the guy ten years.

It doesn’t make it feel any safer, though. Luring you into a lion’s den. He knows you’ll make it out alive, but he can’t stand the thought of the claw marks in your skin.

That feeling washes over him again – that urge scored so deep into his bones that it hits marrow, to put himself between you and anything which might come to harm you. He swallows it down with the acidic sting of orange juice – slots it somewhere safe in his chest until he can assess whatever the fuck it is. Whatever the fuck it means.

His hand tightens around your leg when Jean-Marc mutters something to his assistant. Joel decides against asking you what it means, for fear he’ll tear the Frenchman limb from limb, strips of satin robe strung across the paved patio.

The assistant – tall, thin, looming over you like impending doom on legs – offers to show you the view of the city. And as Jean-Marc settles into your empty chair, the image of that torn satin robe shunts closer towards reality.

“I wonder if you might indulge me,” Jean-Marc slithers, pinching thin air with one hand and resting the other on the back of Joel’s chair.

“I wonder,” Joel mutters, finger tapping angrily on the table.

“She is a wonderful character. Beautiful, and very smart, I can see. I would be crazy not to ask, you must understand, Joel –”

He can’t help himself. He bites before Jean-Marc lays the trap. His head shakes. “She’s – she’s –”

And suddenly there isn’t a single word in the English dictionary worthy of describing you. Not a single combination of letters, of sounds, of syllables and phonetics that would do you justice.

He settles for, “I wouldn’t be anywhere without her.” It feels fucking redundant. It is fucking redundant.

Jean-Marc nods. “And you know that I see the value in things, hm?”

Joel dead-eyes his opponent, gaze narrowing. “What are you sayin’, Jean-Marc?”

“Well,” he shrugs, gesturing to the shadow pointing out the Eiffel Tower, “Paul is fantastic. Dedicated, hardworking. But it is a lot, for one person. I am sure you can understand, being that you have two assistants yourself.”

“And you wanna take one of ‘em out from under me?”

Jean-Marc chuckles, shaking his head. Tutting. Teeth grinding. He senses the bitter tone, hears the distortion of words squeezing through gritted teeth. “Not at all, my dear Joelie, not at all.”

Placating. It pisses Joel off more.

“I simply would like to raise the question of: would she like to be…taken?”

“Taken?”

“Hired. By me.”

The smug grin which pulls over taut lips incites Joel with a desire to punch the luminous veneers from their gummy holders. His fist balls again, nails digging harshly into his palm. He swallows roughly.

“She seems…she seems happy enough where she is to me.” He glances over, catches your eye for a fleeting second before Paul’s ghostly hand perches on your shoulder and turns your attention away again. Resigned, he adds, “You would have to ask her. I ain’t speakin’ for her.”

Jean-Marc’s leer only grows. “Ask her,” he repeats, nodding. “That is an idea.” He pushes out of his chair with a squeal of wood across stone, calling to the party, “Why don’t we take a drive? There is so much of the city I would love to show you – both of you, of course.”

Before he knows it, Joel’s on his feet, too, panic hammering through every muscle in his body. He tosses some half-assed excuse to the breeze; a half-truth, a desperate attempt to pull you away from the beady eyes and sharp claws of Jean-Marc and his assistant, and back over to his side. He takes your arm and scatters, pulling you past four, five, six bursting bouquets, your heels clicking along the polished floor, your head spinning.

He can feel the blood thrashing through his veins as the elevator arrives back in the lobby. Can see the shadow of Paul the assistant still over your shoulder, the place his hand sat like charcoal on white linen. He feels red hot, anger mixed with panic mixed with a word he hasn’t let slip just yet. He covers it by answering your questions shakily, diverting the ones about the conversation on the terrace.

And then you’re back in the safety of Denis’s car. You’re back to being on your own, together. No third set of eyes watching your every move, studying you like you’re some doll to be observed, or worse. You’re touching him again, holding his arm, caressing his cheek. His breathing eases, his body relaxes into the backseat of the Maybach.

You tell him you’d like to see the Louvre. So Joel takes you to see the Louvre.

Joel Miller has never been in love.

He’s said it, sure. Said it plenty to Avery.

G’night, love you.

I’m so proud of you, sweet; I love you so much.

Thanks for makin’ dinner, babe, I love you.

It began to take the form of breath, passing over his tongue with as much ease and instinct as his lungs would push out air. She looked at him a certain way – he’d say he loved her. They’d talk about the future – he’d tell her he loved her. They fought, over his working hours or the interest rates at different banks or whose family to spend Christmas with – and he’d remind her he loved her.

He meant every single one. He did, truly, love her. He loved her auburn hair, the way it’d sweep over her shoulders like a wave of fire. He loved the way she would pause to take thirty photos of the sky at sunset. He loved how homely she was, how simple and warm she could be. Her recipe books lining the shelves in her kitchen. Her pajamas folded neatly at the foot of her bed, waiting for her at the end of the day.

He loved her enough to spend four years with her, a life split nearly down the middle. Never seeping into one another. His side of the bed, and hers. His items in the fridge, and hers. His fucking bathrobe, and hers.

But right now, standing in a jam-packed room, maneuvering awkwardly around museum guides and backpacked tourists, avoiding the knee-height glass barriers and dodging fucking selfie sticks – Joel knows: he has never been in love.

Not until the moment he turns from some headless bust to search the room – the dark marble walls and great, carved arches; the white Parisian sky illuminating everything in a pale glow. Not until he catches a glimpse of you amongst the sea of bodies – stood before the Venus de Milo, staring up in wonder at Aphrodite like she’s the first thing in the world you’ve ever truly seen. The gentle lean of her body, the low sling of marble fabric around her waist, the soft dimple of her navel.

The way your eyes scan every detail of her form – every fold draped over her thigh, ever chisel mark and chip in her torso. The round swell of her breasts and the wavelike swirl of her hair. Barely blinking, afraid to lose sight of her for even a second.

Joel’s never been in love. Not until this very moment.

He only turned to make some quip about…well, now he can’t fucking remember, can he? Something irrelevant. Something so mundane, so meaningless, so dull that he wishes he could take back every word he ever said to you and use the breath more wisely – use the time spent making stupid jokes and work orders, just to look at you. Watch you, like he is right now. Every other thought, every worry and concern drop weightlessly from his mind, with such ease that he doesn’t feel the loss.

Your fixed stare up at the statue’s set face, the slow pacing of your heels, ankles crossing over one another as you pivot around her. And the look of wonder on your face – as if Joel instantly recognizes eight-year-old you, thumbing through the pages of the first art book she was ever gifted, copying the curled hair and round shoulders of the marble goddess in a pencil sketch.

Haloed by the towering windows behind you, arms crossed over your chest. Lips melting from a content smile to agape, and then pinning back in a smile again.

And suddenly – he can’t remember the flame of hair over his ex’s shoulder. Doesn’t remember a single meal she ever cooked for him. In the blink of an eye, he realizes he doesn’t want a life neatly split anywhere.

He realizes that his life, the way he wants it, was always meant to be meshed with yours. Intertwined so tightly that there is no his and hers. Last night at dinner, you couldn’t decide between the bœuf bourguignon and the confit de canard, so Joel ordered both – as well as what he wanted – and the two of you picked at three separate meals. Holding out forkfuls to feed one another, comparing and judging them like professional chefs on a fucking cooking show.

Back at the hotel, you fell asleep in his arms. Your head nestled under his chin; your arms curved around his shoulders. In the center of the bed, laying at an angle. When he got up this morning, the robe he threw around himself smelled like your perfume. The terrycloth on your shoulders, tinged with the weak scent of whiskey.

None of it – not the relationship you had before any of this happened, not the strolling over one boundary to the next, not the blurring of lines between colleague, and friend, and lover – has been neat. None of it has made any sense. And maybe that’s why he fucking trusts it so much.

Joel spent the first two weeks after you fooled around in his office swearing he wasn’t that guy. Staring himself down in the mirror with a balled fist, a pointed finger that said, You don’t sleep with your fucking assistant, you idiot.

And now, standing opposite you in a crowded room and only seeing you – he knows. He finally gets it.

He loves you. He – no, fuck.

He doesn’t just love you.

He’s on his knees, dagger through his heart –

blood spilling all over the pristine floor –

pathetic and adolescent in its nature –

butterflies tearing through his stomach as destructive as a hurricane –

in love with you.

He thinks to say it. To wander over and kiss your shoulder, hook his chin into your collarbone like he did in the Dolce and Gabbana store, and whisper, Hey. I love you. Did you know that?

But he knows that’d be fucking insane. Knows you’d probably unstick yourself from him and back up, tripping in your step. Paris ruined.

He knows he’d probably get so far as curving around your back and then bottle it, anyway. The words would die in his throat. You’d just lean back into him, none the wiser. You’d still make his heart pound.

Pound the way it does when you reach for his wrist and drag him off into the next room, and the next, and the next. And with every piece of art your eyes fall upon, another fragment of your soul is revealed to Joel. The depth of da Vinci, the color of Bruyère. The scale of Veronese and the beauty of Canova.

And with every part revealed, a desire blooms in him to learn the next part. Understand you; know you better than he knows himself. See you, the way he’s seeing you right now.

He takes his ex’s lead, when you’re stood in front of the Mona Lisa. All those fucking sunset photos, like she was afraid to forget what it looked like. The thought becomes urgent, pushing past every other meaningless word in his head.

He taps you on the shoulder, says your name lightly. When you turn, he’s already holding the phone up, watching your delayed motions through the screen. Please don’t let me forget this. Don’t let me forget you, like this.

“Smile,” he says, and you do.

“You’re cheesy,” you tell him, wandering off from the painting.

He’s still staring at the photo. At your dimpled cheeks, your red lips. Staring at your eyes, seeing a new glint in them that wasn’t there before. Like eight-year-old you smiling back at him, trusting him, knowing him.

Joel breathes, “She’s beautiful,” taking your waist in a steady arm to guide you out of the room.

You misunderstand him. He knows it. He doesn’t correct you.

She’s beautiful – the Mona Lisa. But she only became beautiful the second you laid eyes on her. The second she handed you a piece of your soul, the transaction laid bare for Joel to witness. A bucket list item ticked, or simply your childhood self, stood before one of her own seven wonders.

Everything is only beautiful after it comes into contact with you.

There’s a change in you, the morning that you leave. Something low-lying, melancholy and blue. Joel feels it under your skin, in the grip you keep on his hand the entire car ride from the hotel to the airport.

“You good?” he asks, walking up the steps of the jet, shelled around you. Safe, with him, safe with him.

You nod, but you’re watching the Maybach roll off, rounding the corner back to the airport. The same way you watch the city disappear beneath the clouds as the plane takes off.

The same way you glance over to him, your glossy eyes twinkling, pearly tears swimming across your waterline. Joel gets it. Figures he feels much the same.

He leads you slowly back through to the dark cabin bedroom, where you peel the shirt and sweats from your body. He watches from the bed, arm outstretched and inviting you to burrow into his side, curl around his body, loop your legs through his. His own little Aphrodite, the curves and the dimples and all the beauty to go with her.

He sinks his shoulder to let you nuzzle into him, let your slow-closing eyes follow his movements like rocking you back and forth to sleep. You link your arm through his, locking your bodies tight together. Joel slows his typing down, moves gentler, so you can fall asleep without being nudged too much by his arm.

You mumble something into the sleeve of his tee. He pauses. Looks down at your already closed eyes, your parted lips.

“What’d you say, baby?”

You take a deep, slow breath. Already sleeping, he thinks. And then, in the sigh that escapes from your mouth, you whisper to him.

“Please don’t ever leave.”

[boowanie]

Pairing: Wonwoo x Reader

Genre: Angst and fluff

Warnings: Minor character death and slight mention of a panic attack. 

WC: 6.7K+

Summary: You never thought that the stranger you met one night would become someone special to you.

“What’s happening?” Wonwoo called out as soon as he set foot into the house he shared with his close friends. He could hear the distant shouting happening somewhere in the house, a possible indication of a fight occurring between his housemates again. And he was right, there stood Seokmin and Mingyu, throwing harsh words at each other; something to do with dirty laundry sprawled across the kitchen floor.

“Didn’t I tell you to do your laundry THREE days ago Seokmin?” Mingyu bellowed at the top of his lungs. Seokmin’s glare only intensified as he clenched his right hand into a fist. Wonwoo stood at the bottom of the stairs, worried eyes observing the two.

“You yell at me for nagging you but here you are doing the same thing!” Seokmin snapped back. Before Mingyu could reply back, Joshua came in between the two, stretching his arms out to separate the fuming boys.

“Alright boys, it’s just laundry. Seokmin do your laundry now and Mingyu, take a nap to cool off or something.”

Seokmin turned on his heels, rushing down the stairs to do as he was told, greeting Wonwoo with an apologetic smile. Wonwoo sighed, walking up to his room to get the rest he was yearning for for the past week. He closed his door, padding towards his window to move the curtains shut. Without any source of light coming into his room, he laid down on his unmade bed, sighing as his head softly hit the pillows.

Wonwoo didn’t realise he fell asleep until a gentle nudge awoke him from his nap. “Wonu, it’s dinner time,” Soonyoung whispered, afraid to frighten Wonwoo with his normal tone of voice.

Wonwoo hummed in response, nuzzling his head against the pillow, “I’ll be down in a sec, Hoshi.” Soonyoung patted his cheek gently before making his way out of the room while Wonwoo tried his best to sleep again. However, Wonwoo’s ear perked up to the sound of his phone ringing in the pocket of his jeans.

He released an irritated sigh as he unhurriedly answered the phone. “Hello?” Wonwoo greeted with sleep dripping from his voice. “Wonwoo?” the person on the other line asked. Wonwoo’s sleepy eyes widened at the sound of Jiyeon’s, his ex-girlfriend’s, voice. An uncomfortable silence lingered in the air as Wonwoo sat up on his bed.

“What do you want?” he asked without any hint of friendliness in his voice. He heard something shuffle on Jiyeon’s end before she began to sob uncontrollably. Wonwoo could only roll his eyes at how pathetic she could be.

“P-please take me back, I promise I’ll be faithful to you and only you. He was a mistake, you have to believe me,” Jiyeon cried but Wonwoo remained stoic despite her pleas. He muttered a quick “no” before ending the call with her. He sighed for the last time before laying back down on his bed again.

—

Wonwoo devoured the pork belly Jeonghan left on the kitchen table for him since he took another nap after the unexpected call from Jiyeon. He began to ponder on the idea of getting back with his ex while he placed his plate on the rack. However, he quickly dismissed the idea after he remembered the pain he went through when he caught Jiyeon and her classmate in the middle of a makeout session on her bed. Wonwoo couldn’t believe his eyes and his first instinct was to punch the guy before fleeing the scene in tears.

But he couldn’t deny the hurt coursing through him after the phonecall he had with her but he also knew it was wrong to keep hurting himself like that. His eyes lingered on the washed plate, blinking once in awhile to stop the tears gathering in his eyes. Mingyu, who entered the kitchen not too long ago, watched him as he leaned silently on the fridge, careful not to scare him although it failed as soon as Wonwoo faced the door. The older male jumped, clutching his chest in the process. “Kim Mingyu, what the hell?” Mingyu waved at him from where he was standing, a sad smile on his lips.

“Wanna talk about it?” Mingyu asked. Wonwoo shook his head, knowing that he had already drunkenly poured out his feelings to Mingyu and the rest of his housemates for weeks after the breakup. He didn’t want to burden them more with his personal problems.

“Nah, I’m good. I think I just need to get some fresh air.”

—

He wandered around his university campus, finding the empty rooftop Mingyu mentioned the night before. Mingyu discovered it after a stressful exam where he walked around campus, trying to find somewhere to spill his tears. And that’s when he found the rooftop of the science building, empty and abandoned through the blurriness of his tears.

Wonwoo spotted the science building and made his way up through a secret passage that Mingyu instructed him to take. He climbed the rusty stairs that creaked with every step he took which alarmed him but he continued his way up anyway. When he got to the top, he found the door shut tightly which he nudged open with all the force he could muster.

When the door finally budged, Wonwoo heard a loud curse which made him panic at the sound coming from the other side.

“Who the fuck?”

“Shit I’m so so so sorry-”

“Well don’t just fucking stand there, help me up.”

Wonwoo blinked at you for a couple of seconds before your words registered in his mind. He let out a faint “oh right” before offering you his hand. You gladly took it, wincing at the shooting pain in your elbow which you were convinced was bleeding.

“Fuck, my elbow’s bleeding. Thanks a lot you idiot.”

Wonwoo reached out to grab your elbow in his hand. His eyes lingered on your bleeding elbow before taking some unused tissues that were shoved in his coat pocket. He dabbed the tissue on the bleeding wound, wincing now and again.

“You do know I’m the one bleeding and not you?” you scoffed, your eyes focused on his face rather than the blood trickling down your elbow.

“You shouldn’t have been standing there anyway,” Wonwoo muttered.

“So you think it’s my fault?” you questioned.

“No, why are you even up here at this ungodly hour,” he whispered, not wanting you to hear.

“I could ask you the same,” you replied. Wonwoo took out another tissue and asked you to hold it in place since he didn’t have any band aids with him, but you shrugged off his order and thanked him instead before taking a seat on the ground. You chugged the remaining beer in your can and crushed it with your hands.

Wonwoo watched you with curious eyes as you cracked open another can and handed it over to him. You stood up and gathered the cans of beer lying on the ground before making your way towards the door.

“Rooftop’s all yours.”

You were gone before Wonwoo could answer. He began to wonder who you were and what you were doing on the rooftop at this hour of the night but he realised that maybe you were here for the same reason he was; to get away from reality. He took a long sip of the beer you handed him, his eyes spotting a notebook where the crush cans were once scattered.

He reached out, reading the black ink across the cover of the notebook, y/n. he didn’t mean to flip through it but curiosity got the better of him and he opened the notebook to find art pieces scattered on the pages.

“Huh, aren’t you a mystery.”

—

You awoke the following morning to the sound of your roommate yelling at you. As soon as you opened your eyes, you instantly massaged your temples to soothe your throbbing headache but it wasn’t enough to calm the soreness you were feeling. Your roommate’s voice did nothing to help ease the pain and Seungkwan only worsened it by pushing your bedroom door against the wall with a loud thud.

“Drunk again?” he huffed, pinching his nostrils close to stop the smell of alcohol from making him gag. Seungkwan never liked it when you drank, he didn’t like the smell and he certainly hated the fact that you were slowly drowning yourself with alcohol to make the pain of losing someone go away. Seungkwan tried to convince you that he could help but you always turned down his offer with a lousy excuse that you “can handle it”. As a year passed by, your drinking habit only worsened but you still managed to ace your classes and somehow function with all the alcohol that was in your system.

“That’s the last time I’ll ever drink Seungkwan, I promise,” you stuck your pinky finger towards him, wiggling it as you waited for him to wrap his own around your finger. You really wanted to stop and this time, you wanted to keep your promise to your bestfriend to ease the worries he had for you and your health. Seungkwan could only sigh at his bestfriend as he took your pinky finger around his.

“I made you hangover soup y/n” is all he said after he turned on his heel and left your room with a quiet sigh. You looked around your room, the curtains still shut to prevent any source of light from shining through the window but the god awful smell of alcohol that reeked in your room was enough for you to stand up and pull the curtains open. You nudged the window with your hand and the sudden gust of wind had you almost stepping back by its force. You still welcomed it and as you cleaned around your room, the smell of alcohol slowly dissipated (with the help of some yankee candles).

When you entered the kitchen, the smell of bacon made your stomach churn and your nose wrinkle at the slight scent of burning food. “Seungkwan! your bacon is burning,” you yelled, walking over to remove the bacon from the frying pan. You heard Seungkwan yell something you couldn’t quite hear so you shrugged and turned off the hob. Your eyes landed on the hangover soup he made you and your stomach growled at the sight. 

“Thanks for the soup, Kwannie,” you yelled out to him.

You were thankful for the fact that your photography lecture didn’t start until one in the afternoon so you had plenty of time to soothe your headache and plan out your night carefully without having to involve bottles and bottles of soju this time. You wanted to go up to the rooftop to retrieve your notebook that you forgot to take before leaving the handsome stranger all alone. 

Your mind wandered back to him. You remembered the panic in his eyes when he saw the blood gushing down your elbow and it made you chuckle slightly. You lifted up your elbow to glance down if a scab was starting to form on the wound. Your grimaced at the sight and continued to eat your soup again.

“Hey, I found this in your jacket,” Seungkwan held up some bloody tissues with a worried look on his face. You shook your head at him, raising your pointer finger asking him to wait.

“I fell yesterday,” you finally spoke once your mouth was clear of any traces of food. Seungkwan quirked an eyebrow at you, his hands settling on his hips to wait for an explanation. 

“I was up at the rooftop last night and some guy pushed the door open and I happened to be sitting right in front of it which was totally my fault,” you explained. You watched as your bestfriend sighed, walking over to the bin to throw at the tissues.

“You should be more careful next time y/n.”

“Sorry Seungkwan,” you picked at your food guiltily. You didn’t want to worry him all the time but you always manage to anyway. He watched you pick at your food for a while before making his way over towards you.

“Look at me,” he muttered softly, bringing his hand under your chin. You raised your head to look up at him. He gave you a small smile before pressing his lips on your forehead.

“You know I’ll always be here for you y/n, right?”

—

Wonwoo awoke not too long ago because of Seokmin and Mingyu yet again. He rolled his eyes when he heard Mingyu yelling as Seokmin chased him around the house. He stretched his arms above his head, his top slowly riding up to reveal a small section of his lower stomach. He grabbed his glasses that were sitting on his bedside table along with the notebook that belonged to you.

He mentally noted to ask Minghao if he knew anyone called “y/n”. It seemed like you were an art student so Minghao was the first person he thought of. He stood up from his made and made his way over to his bathroom to start getting ready for his morning lectures.

He brushed his teeth slowly, his mind wandering back to how you cursed at him last night which made him chuckle at the memory. He didn’t mean to continue flipping through your artwork last night but he was mesmirised by your pieces. He even found a picture of you tucked between the last few pages of your notebook and he admired the small smile that you gave the camera. 

“WONU!” Mingyu yelled from outside, making him slightly choke on water as he gargled.

“Food’s ready downstairs!” 

“I’ll be out in a sec Mingyu.”

—

You fished out your phone from your pocket, turning the flashlight on to help you see the rusty stairs better. The sound of the stairs leading to the rooftop creaked slightly with every step you took. 

“These steps are going to break one of these days,” you muttered to yourself, keeping the cup of coffee near your chest to warm you up. The weather didn’t co-operate with you tonight. You were forced to wear something warm by your bestfriend and he even made you wear a beanie to protect your head from the cold.

As soon as you got to the top, you pushed the door open with your frame. When the steel door finally opened, you quickly heard a loud thud when it hit something or someone as soon as it opened. 

“Shit,” you heard a deep voice say from the other side.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you began to apologise as you pulled the door shut to reveal the person that was standing behind it and to your surprise, you found the stranger from last night, clutching his arm tightly. You both gave each other a look of shock before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

“You again?” you both said at the same time.

“I guess I deserved that,” Wonwoo said, sitting back down on the ground. You gave him a guilty look before sitting beside him. 

“I’m really sorry about your arm,” you said, poking it before sipping on your hot coffee. He quirked an eyebrow at you, “I’m surprised you’re not cursing me out right now.” You gave him another guilty look, blowing on your coffee and taking another sip to before answering him.

“That wasn’t me yesterday,” you said, giggling as Wonwoo rolled his eyes at you.

“I don’t even know your name,” you laughed.

“I remember you giving me a name last night though.”

“What?”

“Yeah, something along the lines of idiot,” he teased, watching as your eyes widened in surprise again.

“I’m so embarrassing,” you groaned, placing your coffee on the ground to cover your heating face with your hands. You heard Wonwoo laugh at your embarrassment, patting your back as you continued to mutter words to yourself.

“Don’t sweat about it y/n,” he giggled. Your ears perked up to the sound of your name leaving his lips, not remembering if you told him your name or not.

“How’d you know my name,” you asked, removing your hands away from your face. He gave you a shy smile before pulling your missing notebook out of his jacket. He waved it around before handing it back to you.

“You forgot this last night and I may have snooped around.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to..I was just really intrigued by your art. They’re all amazing by the way,” he complimented, rubbing the back of his neck while looking at you.

“Oh no, it’s absolutely okay. Thanks for bringing it back to me and thanks for the compliments,” you shyly replied, picking up your cup of coffee again. Comfortable silence enveloped you while you both looked at the bright moon. You suddenly remembered why you were up here.

“Shoot,” you whispered, fishing out your camera that was tucked carefully in your jacket. 

“Do you mind if I do something for my photography class?” you glaced at Wonwoo.

“No go ahead,” he smiled.

Wonwoo watched as you brought the camera up to face, adjusting the lens before taking multiple shots of the night sky. Wonwoo would be lying if he didn’t think the view before him was mesmerising. He didn’t know why the beating of his heart fastened when you looked satisfied at the shots you took.

“Can I ask for your opinion...” you started.

“Wonwoo.”

“Right, so can I ask for your opinion on these pictures Wonwoo?” you shyly asked him, tucking piece of hair behind your ear.

“Let me see them,” he scooted closer to you, leaning down to look at the pictures.

And that’s how you and Wonwoo spent the rest of the night, chatting about your art, his course and anything that you and him could think of. You and Wonwoo didn’t realise it was past one in the morning until Seungkwan texted you to come home.

“Oh shit,” you muttered, quickly standing up and gathering your notebook and the empty cup of coffee in your hands. Wonwoo also stood up, taking his phone out before thrusting it in your direction.

“C-can I maybe have your number y/n? I’d really like to talk to you more,” he asked, his ears turning red at his own question. You nodded, taking his phone to put your number in his contacts. 

“I’ll walk you back to your apartment if you want?” he offered.

“If it’s not too much to ask,” you replied, chucking the empty cup into the bed as soon as you got down from the rooftop.

“Let’s get you home then.”

—

You tapped your fingers on your thighs, waiting patiently for Wonwoo to come pick you up from your apartment. It had been four months since you and Wonwoo met on the rooftop. You both realised how much you complimented each other. It was nice that he got you to experience some of his hobbies while you taught him the things you were learning in your photography lectures. He was also patient with you whenever you were in one of your moods while you gave him the space he needed whenever he was having a hard time with things he would rather not tell you, yet.

Seungkwan and Mingyu even thought that you and him were good for each other. You were barely drinking now and even if you did, it was always with Wonwoo at the convenience store, talking about everything and anything your minds could think of.

You’ve grown to love Wonwoo’s company.

Woo 🐱: I’m outside your apartment bld ☺️

You: Be down in a sec 💕

You yelled out to Seungkwan that you were going, slipping your shoes on by the door before leaving your apartment with a big smile on your face. You and Wonwoo decided to visit the museum outside your university campus. You were excited to to find some inspiration for your upcoming art project and Wonwoo just wanted to spend time with you.

“Hey,” you walked over to Wonwoo, giving him a side hug.

“Do you think you’d be able to come with me to the recording studio after going to the museum?” he grabbed your elbow before crossing the street to get to the bus stop.

“Yeah, are you and Jihoon recording a new song?” you hummed, taking out your bus card when you saw the bus approaching.

“Yeah, it’s for our music theory class. Jihoon wanted to put some vocals on his new track so he asked me to be his partner.”

You’ve never heard Wonwoo sing but according to Mingyu and Soonyoung, he sounded angelic whenever he sung.

“Can’t wait,” you tapped your bus card, taking a seat at the back by the window. Wonwoo followed you, sitting beside and leaning his head on your shoulder. He yawned, closing his eyes and nuzzling his head against your shoulder.

“Tired?”

“Just a little bit,” he yawned again.

“I’ll wake you up when we’re near.”

—

You walked around the museum in silence with your notebook in hand, doodling some pieces that sparked your interest. Wonwoo, on the other hand, read each and every information that came along with the art pieces. You found it adorable when he would tilt his head as he focused on reading the information. He would look at you whenever you giggled at him, smiling and nudging you with his hip.

Your eyes landed on the final artwork in the museum, a grin making its way to your face. It was a simple artwork of the moon but the different shades of dark colours to mimic the sky made you more and more interested in the artwork. Wonwoo finally caught up to you and stood by your side.

“I..i think this is my favourite out of them all y/n,” he whispered beside you.

“Mine too.” You took out your notebook again, doodling on your notebook while Wonwoo watched you. You didn’t notice that Wonwoo took out his phone and backed away from you slightly. He tapped his phone to get his camera to focus on you, taking a picture of you as you doodled on your notebook.

“Beautiful,” he whispered quietly.

You looked up at Wonwoo, smiling brightly at him.

“I think I’m done ‘Woo,” you finally showed him your drawing, his eyes looking at the artwork.

“You’re so talented y/n!” He ruffled your hair before placing his arm around your shoulder. Wonwoo and you looked at the artwork for the last time.

“To the studio we go?”

“To the studio we go.”

—

“If you keep staring at Wonwoo like that, he might melt,” Mingyu sneaked up from behind you. You jolted in your seat, clutching your chest as you tried to calm your beating heart.

“Are you serious Kim Mingyu?”

“I didn’t realise you were this jumpy y/n.”

You threw a piece of crumpled paper at his face which he dodged, knocking the spare seat along the way. This caught the attention of a couple of people that were quietly sipping on their beverages in the coffee shop. Wonwoo watched you and Mingyu bicker while he took another coffee order. He chuckled softly when he saw you throw another piece of crumpled paper at Mingyu’s face.

While you and Mingyu were bickering about your apparent feelings for Wonwoo, both of you didn’t notice Wonwoo’s face drop when his ex-girlfriend entered the coffee shop. Mingyu finally looked up to find Wonwoo arguing with Jiyeon at the side of the coffee shop. Seungcheol who now took over Wonwoo’s shift, glanced at the younger male with worry evident on his face.

You didn’t notice what was happening until Mingyu tapped your shoulder.

“C-can you do me a favour y/n?”

You hummed in response, looking up to see Mingyu’s face. You dropped your pencil immediately and gave all your attention to Mingyu.

“I need you to pretend to be Wonwoo’s girlfriend like right now,” he blurted out.

“What the fuck?”

He nibbled on his lower lip before pointing his finger at Wonwoo who looked distressed as he talked to a girl you didn’t recognise.

“Who-”

“Wonwoo’s ex-girlfriend who cheated on him.”

With that piece of information, you stood up quickly and made your way towards Wonwoo. You looped your arms through his and placed your head on his arm.

“Baby,” you whined, catching both of their attention.

“I-”

“You have a girlfriend now Wonwon?” she sounded hurt as she looked you up and down.

Wonwoo cleared his throat, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him.

“Yeah, now please leave before my girlfriend makes a scene. And you wouldn’t like that. Trust me.”

You waved at her mockingly, grabbing Wonwoo’s hand and dragging him where you and Mingyu were sat at.

“I want the ground to swallow me whole,” you groaned when you and the boys watched Jiyeon disappear from the coffee shop.

“You owe ME Jeon!”

“How about a free kiss?” Mingyu suggested making you and Wonwoo glare at him.

“How about an explanation? Meet me at the rooftop at 8 tonight?” he glanced at the clock, realising that his break was nearly over.

“I’ll see you later,” he placed a quick peck on your forehead, leaving you and Mingyu by yourselves again.

“Forehead kisses, multiple dates and rooftop sessions? And you two still AREN’T dating?!”

“Oh fuck off Kim Mingyu.”

—

“So she fucking cheated on you and now she’s asking for you to take her back?”

Wonwoo nodded, eating another cheeseball that you bought for him before coming up to the rooftop.

“And are you going to?” you asked nervously, not knowing why your heart hurt at the thought of Wonwoo taking back Jiyeon. It’s not like there was anything going on between you two, you thought.

You saw him hesitate, swallowing another cheeseball.

“I kinda thought about it but no, I’m never going to take her back. I don’t want to go through the pain all over again.”

You sighed in relief, “Good.”

“Why? You scared I won’t spend as much time with you anymore?”

“To be honest, yeah.”

Wonwoo watched you shyly eat a piece of chicken, avoiding his eyes. He scooted closer to you until your arms were touching. He placed an arm around your waist and placed his head on top of yours.

“Never, sweetheart. You’re very special to me, you know,” he whispered softly.

“O-okay.”

—

You were gasping for air once you woke up from your dream. You saw the look of disappointment on his face again, making your heart clench with sadness all over again.

“Not again,” you cried, placing your covers over your mouth to muffle your cries. Your hands were shaking at this point and you knew you were having an episode again. You tried to breathe calmly but memories of your time with him kept appearing in your mind.

“F-fuck,” you reached out to grab your phone from the bedside table. You dialled Wonwoo’s number, placing the phone on your ear. After the fifth ring, Wonwoo picked up humming as you called out his name.

“H-help me,” you cried, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to tell him the passcode to your apartment door.

“I’m on my way sweetheart. Please breathe for me okay? I’ll be there in no time.”

Wonwoo arrived ten minutes later, panting when he finally entered your room. He rushed over to your bed and removed your covers so that he could take you in his arms.

“I’m here baby, i’m here,” he took you in his lap, and began to rock you body gently to soothe your cries.

“I’m right here,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, on your forehead and finally, on your cheek.

You gripped his shirt while you attempted to calm yourself down. You focused on his lips and then on his hushed voice.

“Woo,” you finally called out.

“I’m here y/n.”

“I’m s-sorry I called you here.”

“Don’t, you know I’ll always be here.”

—

After that night, you made it your job to avoid Wonwoo at all cost. You were embarrassed. You also realised how attached you’ve become to him. Seungkwan tried to get you to meet up with him and even Mingyu begged for you to stop avoiding Wonwoo.

“You’re leaving him in the dark y/n,” Seungkwan argued for the nth time. You sighed, leaning your canvas on the wall.

“I’m really busy Kwannie, can we not talk about this today?”

“Just admit that you’ve grown feelings for Wonwoo and you’re afraid that he might leave you!” Seungkwan blurted out. You dropped your paintbrush on the ground when Seungkwan snapped at you.

“I KNOW!” Seungkwan flinched as you yelled back at him.

“I’m scared I might lose him too but you can’t blame me for my own trauma Seungkwan! Now get out,” you picked up your brush again, turning your back away from him.

—

You knew you were dreaming. It had to be a dream because he was here. He was in your arms while you talked about your on going piece of artwork. Vernon leaned his head on your chest while he played with your fingers that were placed on his chest.

“I love you, you know that right?”

You gripped his fingers tightly in your hands, not wanting to let him go incase he disappeared like he always did whenever you had a dream about him.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything to save you, Vernon-”

“Shh, what happened to me was not your fault y/n,” he got up from where he was laying on your chest and took you in his lap.

“Nothing was your fault, okay?” he kissed your forehead.

“I shouldn’t have fought with you that day,” you mumbled, tears starting to stream down your cheeks. You gripped his shirt as he continued to whisper calming words into your ear.

“I want you to be happy. I’m at peace now, y/n.” Vernon kissed your cheek before he disappeared again.

You jolted awake, gasping for air again. Clutching your chest, you called out for Seungkwan who heard you since he was sweeping outside your door. He barged in with the sweeping brush in his hand.

“Vernon again?” You nodded, sniffling while you opened your arms for him.

“I know he’s watching over you y/n.”

You sobbed in his shirt, seeping the piece of clothing with your tears. Seungkwan’s heart broke when he continued to rub your back. He shook his head at how unfair the world could be. You didn’t deserve the heart ache of losing Vernon to a crash. You didn’t deserve to lose the man that was once the love of your life.

“What happened to Vernon wasn’t your fault, y/n.”

“I-i know,” you breathed out, “V-vernon told me it wasn’t. Seungkwan, he finally talked to me in my dreams.”

Seungkwan gave you a soft smile, soothing you with comforting words again.

“I know he’d love for you to be happy with Wonwoo.”

—

A month passed by when you saw Wonwoo again. It was only for a couple of minutes until him and Jihoon entered the studio. Despite only seeing him for a few minutes, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes when he looked at you.

You clutched the canvas tighter against your chest as you made your way to the arts building to go into the studio to finally finish your painting that was going to be included in the exhibition a few days. When you entered the studio, you flicked the lights on and settled your canvas against the wall. You rolled your sleeves up and began to prepare your paints and paintbrushes that were going to finalise your artwork.

It took you 5 hours to complete your painting, your cheek and denim overalls sporting splotches of paint on them. You stood back and admired your work of art. You fished out your phone and captured a picture of your painting to send to Seungkwan.

While you were cleaning your brushes, your mind wandered back to a memory that inspired your artwork.

You and Wonwoo were walking home after spending hours on the rooftop. He urged you to go to the rooftop after he had a rough day. When you arrived at the rooftop, Wonwoo was already sitting on the ground with a can of beer clutched in his hand. He heard you but he didn’t bother turning around with how tired he was. You leaned down behind Wonwoo and wrapped your arms around him, placing your chin on his shoulder. You remembered Wonwoo spilling everything that went wrong that day while you hugged him tighter to calm him down.

After spending hours on the rooftop, he decided to walk you home. He was back to his normal self, nudging you with his hip as he teased you about hugging him on the rooftop for hours. You giggled when he tipsily laughed at a joke you told him. You reached for your phone that was in the back pocket of your jeans.

You quickly took a picture of Wonwoo while he laughed at another joke you told him.

“Hey! No fair,” he whined, chasing you down the empty streets of Seoul.

—

“Hey y/n, are you inviting Wonwoo to the exhibition?” Seungkwan chewed on a piece of gum while typing something on his phone.

“I already did.”

“What did he say?”

“Left me on read.”

“I’m sure he’ll come y/n,” Seungkwan reassured, squeezing your hand.

—

It was the day of the exhibition and you were walking around the hall to look at your other classmates’ paintings. You chatted to some of them and complimented them on their work while they gushed about yours. They loved the idea of your painting of the moon and a boy who was admiring the night sky. You thanked her, smiling at her art work again.

The event was coming to an end but you saw no sight of Wonwoo. Mingyu, Jihoon and even Soonyoung dropped by to see your work of art. The three of them admired your painting for awhile until it finally clicked in their minds who the boy was. They whipped their heads towards you at the same time, wearing matching smirks to tease you.

“Wonwoo huh?” Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows making you chuckle at him.

“Do you know if he’s coming?” you bit your lower lip, fiddling with your hands as you awaited for their answer.

The three boys looked at you with sympathetic smiles, “We’re not sure y/n.” They bid you goodbye after you chatted with them for a while, leaving you on your own again. Some people came up to you to ask you about your painting, asking what prompted you to paint the moon and a boy.

“Just someone special,” you smiled at the old lady.

The event came to an end at 8pm and your professor thanked all of you for presenting your paintings to the public. You were beyond tired when you grabbed your back from the staff room, wanting nothing more than to pick up some food from your favourite takeaway shop and watch reruns of your favourite show with Seungkwan.

You were the last person to leave the hall as your other classmates have already left while you were grabbing your belongings. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t disappointed that Wonwoo didn’t come to the event. However, you knew it was your fault for pushing him away when all he wanted was to be there for you.

You started walking away from the hall, halting once you heard a familiar voice calling out your name. You froze when you heard footsteps nearing you. He was here, you thought.

You turned around to see Wonwoo with a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. He smiled softly at you once he was in front of you. Wonwoo handed you the flowers and you gladly took them from his hand.

“I didn’t want to disturb you when you were talking to people so I decided not to come up to you and just admire your work from afar.”

“Did you like it?”

“I loved it y/n,” he stared at you, silence enveloping you both.

“Good, you were the inspiration for that painting,” you sheepishly revealed. He blushed at your words, tucking his hands behind the pockets of his jeans.

“How about I walk you back to your apartment?”

“I’d love that.”

You walked side by side in comfortable silence with only the noises of passing cars filling in the silence that enveloped you both. It was nice seeing Wonwoo again and you loved the new hair colour he was sporting now.

When you neared your apartment building, Wonwoo spotted the playground that he frequently passed by whenever he collected you from your apartment. He nudged your hip with his own, pointing at the swings nearby.

“Wanna chat for a bit?” You could only nod, following him as he led the way to the swings. You sat down on of the swings while he sat on the other, immediately pushing himself off. You watched in amusement as he got higher and higher, wanting to do the same. But you were too tired to even move your legs so you decided just to watch him goof off.

“Woo,” you called out.

He suddenly stopped, using his feet to stop himself from swinging any further. He turned towards you, raising his eyebrows to urge you to speak.

“I-i’m really sorry for avoiding you,” you started, fiddling with the flowers that laid on your lap.

“Wanna tell me why you did?”

You looked up at him, his eyes staring intently at you. You gulped, feeling nervous the more he looked at you with curious eyes.

“I didn’t want you to get to close..because I was afraid I’d lose you like I lost my ex-boyfriend,” you confessed, running your hand through your hair. You saw him furrow his eyebrows, probably confused as to why you were afraid of losing him when you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

“H-he died after a drunk driver knocked him over,” you whispered, “He was going home after we argued at my apartment and that was the last conversation we had before he died the same night.”

Wonwoo gasped softly, standing up and kneeling in front of you. He tilted your head up with his pointer finger to get you to look at him. You didn’t resist, wanting nothing more but to look at Wonwoo. Tears started to form in your eyes once they met his.

“I’m really sorry Woo,” you sobbed, pulling him into a hug. He hugged you tightly, both of you nuzzling your heads into each other’s necks. You and him stayed in that position until he his knee started aching.

“You gotta let go of me for a bit, baby, my knees are starting to ache.” With the mention of the term of endearment, your heartbeat quickened.

“Baby huh?” You asked, your eyebrow raised at him.

“Yeah, because you’re my baby now,” he teased, offering you his hand to take. You gladly accepted it, swinging it softly as you and him continued to walk to your apartment building.

“I’ve something for you to listen to before you go to sleep, baby,” he smiled. You turned your head towards him, seeing the faint blush that coloured his cheeks. “What is it?” you asked. “I already sent it to you, you just have to play it when you get home okay?” You nodded, wrapping your arms around his torso. You rested your chin against his chest while you both stood outside your apartment building. You didn’t want to let him go nor did he want to leave you just yet.

“Wanna go out on a date with me tomorrow?” he asked, leaning down to peck your forehead with his lips. You nodded again, placing the side of your head against his chest. “I’d love to.”

“No more running away okay?” You pinched his back lightly before nodding again to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere again. Despite the fear of losing him in the future lingering in the back of your mind, you were only certain of one thing. You were completely and utterly in love with the man who pushed a steel door against your body that one strange night. He was someone that your heart was longing for and he was the one who helped you heal your heart piece by piece like you did with his.

[english8muffin]

Cozy winter

Summary: going to the market, being cheeky in the parking lot and a warm cuddly morning sprinkled with some funny-business

Warning: Cute banter, smut (NSFW), fluff

Word count: Around 5300 words!

I want to open this with one of my favorite quotes ever, so if you allow me ;)

“Go into the arts. I’m not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”  -Kurt Vonnegut 

“We need muffins.”

“We don’t NEED muffins, what we need are some fresh fruit and vegetables, ” Henry butts in. You frown and look up at him, “Oh whatever, Hen. You eat your greens, beans, potatoes and tomatoes, while I get fat by munching on some sweet, sweet, delicious chocolate muffins.”

 He sends you a smirk from across the aisle. It was always fun to do mundane things, like going to get coffee together or grocery shopping, when he was home from filming. The last year you went to university it was very hard to be away from him for such a long time, especially when you still lived in Europe. You would fly over to England once in a blue moon, when Henry was in London and your schedule would allow it. Other times your relationship existed out of phone and video calls. It was a rough period, if you have to be honest. But It made the two of you closer and your bond stronger. It’s true what they say, absence does make the heart grow fonder. 

You let Henry know you were going to get the ingredients for the muffins and start pushing the shopping cart in the direction of the baking supplies. As you walk back to the fresh produce section, you get distracted. So many colorful packaging was just screaming your name…

“What the- lovey! I thought you were going to get your muffin ingredients,” Henry cackles and almost doubles over seeing the now full shopping cart.

It took you a second to answer, a bit too focused on his beautiful face and the smile lines that appeared when he laughed. You quickly try to defend yourself, so he doesn’t think you have no self-control, even though, you know your eyes were bigger than your stomach.

“No! I did get them, they’re just underneath the other bags,” you trail off, eyes drifting to the floor. You sigh, “I just saw this aisle with all the snacks. These magnificent snacks. And, Hen, I’ve never wanted anything more in my whole life! And, Hen-Henry! Henry, listen! Stop laughing at me! It was a moment of weakness! You can’t judge me! You don’t even know how they taste, I promise you, you will understand once you take a bite of everything!”

Henry wipes away a small tear at the corner of his eye and kisses the top of your head. You stroll around the aisles, trying to work through the rest of your grocery list, but suddenly you stop dead in your tracks.

“Hen,” you say, trying to get his attention. He gives you a hum in return, letting you know he heard you, “why on god’s green earth does my grocery list say ‘sex’?” You tilt your head up to his face, seeing a bashful grin. 

You shake your head, clicking your tongue disapprovingly, “it isn’t even on top of the list! You put your oatmeal protein shake before sex, fuck, you even put curry before sex, you really need to get your priorities straight!”

After getting some more stuff, like pak choi, steak, tofu and the ingredients for Henry’s beloved curry you always make him, you walk to the register. 

The petite Asian lady gives you a smile and takes a little peak at Henry, who was too busy looking at the various Chinese cough drops that are displayed in front of the counter. Her brows rise behind her thick glasses, “哇，大帅哥。你很幸运啊。” (Wow, big handsome man. You are very lucky, ah.) She says, turning back to you and winking. You can’t help but chuckle. Grinning you send her an ‘I know’-look.

Hearing your laugh, Henry looks over his shoulder with a questioning look. But you just smile and shake your head.

You two quickly get everything in the reusable shopping bags you brought with you. It was getting late and more people were getting off of work and wanted to do some last-minute grocery shopping. Henry takes both of the flower printed bags and the two of you walk to the car. It was getting colder, your breath turning into puffs of smoke. You look up at the sky glooming over you. They promised snow tonight. 

Seeing Henry load the bags in the trunk, his ass proudly sticking out in the air, you give it a pinch. You just couldn’t resist. It was just there, so you better make use of the situation. 

Feeling your hand touch his behind, Henry turns around, an unamused look on his face.

“Excuse me, miss. But that is mine,” he says, really playing up his posh accent.  “I sure hope you disinfected those filthy little paws of yours.” He cutely scrunches his nose, doing a once over and trying so hard to keep himself from smiling, but failing miserably. He turns back around and arranges the bags in the booth so they won’t tip over.

There is a moment of silence, just the noise from cars driving up and off the parking. From the corner his eye Henry sees the stare you give him but ignores it with a small smirk.

“You know,” you begin with a cheeky undertone, making him curious, “I bet I could kick your ass,” you grin, looking at him and trying to gauge his reaction. 

“What was that, doll?”

“You heard me, big lad!”

“Oh really?” He asks and looks at you, towering over you like a brick wall. His eyes glimmering with mischief. Yeah, no, this was NOT a good idea. 

You squirm a little and a small nervous giggle leaves your lips.

“Yes, I can. Watch m-AHHHH! HENRY!” You squeal as he lifts you and throws you over his shoulder, fully forgetting you are in public. “Let me down, you caveman!” You laugh, slapping his left ass cheek. But he ignores your plea and just slaps your ass in return. 

Wiggling a little, you challenge him, “Beat me up! Come on, do it!” 

He turns his head and playfully bites the exposed skin by your hip, making you shriek like a little kid. 

Henry lets out a loud belly laugh and puts you back on your feet. As soon as the tips of your Dr. Martens touch the pavement, you get pushed against the car. Trapping you between the icy cold black metal and his warm body. His arm goes around your waist and pulls you closer to his front.

“I love you.” The words are hushed but you hear them loud and clear, making a shiver go down your spine. The both of you look at each other, completely enamored and grinning like idiots. Noses and the apples of your cheeks rosy, bitten from the cold.

“I love you too,” you whisper back. His hand glides inside your coat and underneath the thick knitted jumper you finished to other day. He just needed to feel you. You lean up a little and gently push your lips to his, adoring the familiar warmth that fell over you whenever you’d kiss. Before you can come in for a second smooch, he frowns at you. 

“Thought you were going to beat my ass?” He mocks, trying to imitate your accent. 

Lightly tapping your finger against your chin, you pretend to be in thought. 

“Well, this is much more fun.”

“Hmm, agreed,” he grins, already eyeing your red swollen lips and tilting his head towards yours. 

You hear heavy footsteps coming closer, the wooden floorboards slightly creaking under the weight. It was getting dark outside, the overhead lights in the kitchen casting a homey hue down on the oak countertops. Your ‘cooking playlist’ was filling the room with some gentle tunes. You also had a ‘dancing in the kitchen playlist’ but that one was mostly used in the mornings. You hum along to the melody when stirring in the stew you were preparing for the evening, rocking your hips side to side. The stew was softly bubbling away, spreading an amazing aroma around the house. 

The footsteps stop behind you. A moment later two big, sweater wrapped arms envelop around you, delicately caressing you. Henry lovingly pulls your loose braid to the side and places his head onto your shoulder, trying to get a peak at what was in front of you on the stove. 

“What smells so good in here?” Just then Henry’s stomach makes a loud grumbling noise from the mouthwatering smell going on in the kitchen, you chuckle. 

He had been gaming before this, you could hear the tiredness in his voice, it was a bit lower and more hoarse than normal. Whenever he was tired like this, he’d just turn into your big cuddly bear, you loved it. 

Dinner was almost done. You made one of the dishes your grandma used to make for you when you were younger. You won’t lie, it was pretty difficult at first to decipher the little recipe she send you in the post, but now you knew it by heart. 

“Cantonese style braised beef stew with white radish, bean curd sheets and a side of rice,” you inform him and brush your hand over his, that was placed on your stomach. Hearing that, he has to make sure he’s not drooling.

“And for dessert…” You nod your head toward the piping hot apple crumble pie currently cooling on the kitchen island. “We still have some vanilla ice cream if you want to have that with your pie. I know you want to be healthy, but I just really wanted to make a pie and this one does have filling,” you ramble, joking on the last part about the filling. He probably thought you were pestering him with his diet that most likely didn’t allow him to eat it. 

You wince a bit, feeling him tense against you. “You don’t have to eat it, my love, promise!”

“No petal, you’re just… you’re just so perfect,” Henry admits, pressing a kiss just below the strap of the pistachio green apron you were wearing, nuzzling his nose in your tousled hair.

It was a gloomy Saturday morning in London. If your alarm hadn’t gone off, you wouldn’t have known it was morning already.

Yesterday after dinner, the two of you cuddled up on the sofa, under a warm blanket with Kal snuggled up on your lap. His head resting in your lap, while his tail occasionally slapped Henry in the face, making you burst out laughing and Henry almost choke on the fur. The akita would fondly press his snout deeper against you, really loving the head scratches he was receiving. Both you and Henry were fully satisfied with the tasty dinner you had paired with a glass of wine and were now cheekily flirting with each other while watching a detective movie, of which you missed the plot because you were, well, differently occupied…

Now the bedroom held a calm, soft aura, a dim light streaming in through the linen curtains. You let out a little whimper, not wanting to leave the bubble you are in and stretch out your limbs. A bit sore from sleeping in a weird angle, amongst other things. Behind you, you hear a small sound of protest and before you know it, you are engulfed by a strong arm. Henry hides his face in the side of your neck, keeping his eyes closed, groaning, clearly displeased with the fact it was morning already. 

You smile, this was your favorite kind of morning. Warm and cozy in bed, cuddling with your boyfriend. You turn around, careful to not let any cold air under the duvet, your arm going around the large form beside you and curling your fingers in the mess of curly hair. Henry moaned, burying his face lower, between your breasts. Now fully content and still a bit dazed by sleep, he lets out the most awful snore. Even though he sounded like a drowning goat when he snored, you couldn’t do anything other than coo and gently scratch your fingers on his scalp, lovingly gazing at the man beside you. 

“Are we going to be lazy couch potatoes today?” You chuckle, placing a kiss on his forehead, wild curls tickling your nose as you do so. Your voice was still a little raspy, but Kal apparently still heard you, and pushed open the door to come snuggle in bed with his favorite humans. 

“What time is it?” Henry groans. 

“Around 8.”

“We can be busy bees if you want,” Henry whispered against the swell of your breast, peppering delicate kisses on the bare skin. “Or better yet, busy bunnies.”

Kal was now situated on the end of the bed, head on his paws while the serenity of the room made him doze off. His dad on the other hand was now slowly waking up, as his hand crept lower and lower over your body. You giggled and pushed his hand away.

“There is a child present ,” you motion towards a sleeping Kal, who lays stretched out on the feathery duvet, already heading off to dreamland looking content as ever. Henry lifts his head, peering at his buddy and snorts, “he’s seen much worse, haven’t you bear?” But he doesn’t get acknowledged. 

Laying his head back, he reaches up to push your hair out of your face before grabbing your cheek and pulling you down for a kiss. He places three kisses on your swollen lips, lightly sucking on the bottom one.

“May-,” you try to say something, but he just pushes his mouth harder against yours. Quickly taking the opportunity to stop you from making excuses. A hoarse chuckle rumbles from his chest, as he wraps you in his arms.

“Stop talking, woman, and kiss me back.” You let out a small moan and grip the curls you were playing with moments ago. He deepens the kiss slightly, tongue invading your mouth, surprising you. A subdued hum escapes your mouth, resulting in him grabbing the back of your neck, as the other rests on your hip. The kiss gets deeper and more passionate as the minutes go by. Getting a bit overwhelmed you pull back slowly, softy panting. 

“Hmm, so sweet, darling,” he says smugly, earning a little smack to the chest as a bright blush covers your cheeks. Like it wasn’t already hard enough to resist him and stay in the warm bed all morning, he does this. Henry rolls your naked body over so you’re straddling him, a large hand wraps itself around your hair. He tugs, not too hard though, so he has more access to shower open mouthed kisses on your neck and chest. Leaving you a breathless mess on top of him. His hands trail from the top of your back to your rear, squeezing your cheeks before giving them a fast slap, making you take in a breath. 

From all the shuffling, little snickers and kissing noises, Kal woke up and groaned, irritated that his humans couldn’t just hanky-panky somewhere else. With a last disapproving look, he jumps off the bed, landing with a thump. From the sound of paws hitting the wooden floor and toddling down the stairs, you look over your shoulder, duvet falling down so you sat there fully naked, much to Henry’s delight. 

Then you felt it. It was normal for Henry to get hard in the morning. To be honest, he would be a bit worried if his cock wasn’t hard first thing when waking up.

Involuntarily you grind down, drawing a heavy moan from deep in his chest. Holding intense eye contact with him, you start humping over his bare front, mewling like a kitten in heat. It was embarrassing how he had you wrapped around his finger. A cheeky smile formed on his face, “look who came around.” Your body was practically begging for sex. 

Pouting, you keep on moving your hips in a tantalizing slow rhythm, scratching at his hairy chest. Making sure you kept your eyes on his, he licked his three middle fingers and a second later you feel him reaching between your thighs, wiping his fingers down your slit. Tensing up a little, you try to hold back a grunt at the sensation. 

“Oh darling,” he started, his voice going an octave lower, “what a mess you’ve made.”

He pulls back and observes your reaction when he pops his finger in his mouth.

“Wet and sweet, like always.”

“You are so nasty,” you whisper in total awe at what he manages to do to your body. He snickers and you quickly grab his hand, pushing it back between your thighs, “I didn’t tell you to stop, though.”

Your jaw goes slack, the moment you feel his thick fingers moving in and out of you. He was hitting just the right spot, making you groan and throw your head back. He felt like he couldn’t hold back anymore, he quickly flips you over so he’s on top of you, fully trapping you underneath his body and smashes his mouth on yours. Everything was happening so fast that you couldn’t pay attention to every incredible thing he was making you feel. Taking his cock in hand, he rubs his shaft against you, up and down, pressing it so you could feel the length. You look up at him, veins bulging in his neck, eyes dark, face already becoming flushed. God, he was so sexy. Grabbing your legs, he pushes your knees back so you were completely spread open and at his mercy. 

He curses under his breath and lines himself up with you sticky center. Stifling your moans and pants, by pressing his lips to yours, when he slowly sinks his thick cock inside. 

“Oh my god,” you whine, feeling him stretching your walls apart, pushing himself deeper and deeper. 

“Y’feel so warm and tight, my love. M’so hard it hurts.” Henry whines against your lips, lacing his fingers in between yours. He trails kisses in your neck and under your ear, trying to get as close to you as possible. He loved feeling your body against his. Your walls were so plushy and wet for his cock, he wanted to stay buried in you forever. 

“M’gonna make you feel so good, darling,” he whispers in your ear. You whine softly, getting worked up, “please.”

He smirked, obviously liking your plea. 

Instead of giving you a nice, hard pounding, Henry wanted to go slow. It was still very early in the morning, the both of you still barely awake and he wanted to savor this moment with you.

“Oh, Hen-,” you pant softly, loving every bit of it. As he pushes deeper into you, you can feel his entire weight pressing down against you. The weight comforted you in a sense, like others would with a weighted blanket. He prolonged his strokes, making sure that when he slid out you could feel every centimeter of him, but then slid back in quickly. 

“Fuck.” He grumbles into your neck, “feels so good, love,” he praises, nibbling on the skin under your ear, grabbing a handful of your hair pulling it back. You move you hands from his grasp and push them up his broad shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

“So good,” you moan out to him, feeling his cock nudge at the extremely sensitive spot deep inside your core. He lifts his head to look at you, seeing your mouth formed into the letter ‘o’, head tilted back into the cloud-like pillow and eyes screwed shut. A string of desperate moans falls from your lips. 

This was what he loved, seeing his love, his girl react to the way he was pleasuring her. Just looking at you in this state made his orgasm coil up in the pit of his tummy. He never would have dreamed that another person could give him this feeling, the feeling of utter bliss when you were together. The unconditional love he felt for you was indescribable. 

Henry continues to thrust into you and attaches his lips to yours, feeling you squeeze around him. You manage to spread your legs even wider and wrap them securely around his slim waist, digging your heels just above the globes of his perfectly sculpted ass. 

He was aiming his stokes into the deepest part of you and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your release. 

“Fuck,” you whimper out to him, digging your nails into the skin of his back. He knew you were about to cum. You let out another loud moan. 

“Come on, petal. Cum f’me,” he pants, trying to coax you. Hearing the almost desperate tone in his voice, combined with the sound of him slapping his hips to yours and the feeling of his cock moving in and out of you was becoming overwhelming. 

“Oh my god!” A loud moan ripples through you, the feeling of your release coming near. 

“Almost, my love,” he moans, speeding up the pace of his thrust. He inhales sharply, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulls you up, quickly pounding into you. Completely losing control, trying to get deeper as if that was possible and lets his forehead rest against yours. With one last push of his hips, you get to your breaking point and cum, screaming. Henry feels your walls clamp around him and let’s go, fully satisfied. The noise he made was an orgasm on its own. He keeps himself against you when he lets go inside of you. You could feel Henry’s cum filling you as you slowly come down from your high. You feel his cum dripping out of you, almost proud of what you made him do. 

He is about to roll off of you to cuddle up beside you, but you stop him by tightening your legs around him. “Please stay like this,” you whisper, your brain still a bit muddled by the amazing orgasm you just had seconds ago. He smiles down at you.

“Don’t be a silly goose,” he kisses your nose, “I would crush you,” Henry says endeared with a cheeky grin and pulls you into his side. You feel warm and safe. You yawn, blinking away when your eyes become watery.

“I can’t move,” biting your bottom lip, you snuggle closer to him, “and my throat hurts like hell.”

Henry lowers his hand to your ass and gives it a firm squeeze, “I’m not surprised. Oh doll, the sounds you were making,” he bites his bottom lip, closing his eyes. 

You laugh and roll your eyes. Henry nipped at your neck, making you erupt into a fit giggles. He chuckles, leaving a kiss on the spot he had just bitten. 

Henry trails his hands up and down your back. You closed your eyes and tangle your leg in between his, really liking the feeling. His chest was heavenly and just being in his arms felt amazing. He almost lulled you back to sleep the moment he began to run his fingers through your hair. 

“That good, huh? Almost fucked you back to sleep,” he chuckles. 

“It was alright, I guess,” you tease him. He raises his eyebrows, eyes twinkling with joy. 

“How would you rate the experience?” 

Tilting your head to look up at him, “Hmm, ten I guess.”

He looked very pleased with that.

“Out of twenty,” you finish. 

“OUT OF TWENTY?” He sobered up, staring at your face with a shocked expression. 

You snicker, climbing into his lap, “No, honey, I was just joking, I’m sorry.” A big pout forming on your face, making you look oh so innocent. 

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to put you up on all fours and take you like that, don’t tempt me,” he says, shaking his head. Wiggling your brows you grin and kiss the dimple on his chin. 

“As much as I would enjoy that, I think Kal has to go potty and we have to eat.”

After some hushed pillow talk and hoarse giggles between the silky sheets, you two decide to move downstairs and start making some fresh coffee. When you lift your body out of the bed, a light throbbing shoots between your legs. You almost fall back into the mattress, making Henry roar with laughter. You end up getting a piggy back ride down the stairs, only wearing a v-neck shirt from Henry that fell just below the curve of your ass and showed plenty of cleavage. Your lilac panties were fully on display and your almost black hair looked like a lion’s main on top of your head, but you didn’t care. 

The both of you were still in that bubbly, fulfilled state of mind, looking like two drugged out kids, wearing blissful smiles. When you got to the kitchen, Kal bounded around the corner, coming from the sitting area, his tail wildly sweeping through the air. Eyes sparkling with happiness when he saw his parents finally had left the bed. 

“早上，宝宝” (morning, baby) You greet him, still on Henry’s back. Kal gives you a high “woof” as to say good morning back. After living with Henry and Kal for around eight months now, the akita started to pick up on a few Chinese phrases. He even decided the pet name ‘宝宝’ (bao bao), which means baby or darling, was only to be applied on him and nobody else. 

Every time you would video call with your Chinese speaking friends, and they talked about or to their children, Kal would cheerfully patter over, thinking they were cooing at him instead of the small infant in the background. But you thought it was the sweetest thing ever, he was your little fur baby after all. 

“I’m going to make us some omelets, is that alright with you, darling,” Henry asked, already opening the fridge and looking for the carton of eggs.

“Yeah, ‘course,” you call out to him. You give Kal his breakfast and receive many, wet kisses in return. Shuffling back over to your boyfriend, you lean against the dark green counter with its wooden countertops, and look at him carefully chopping up some bell peppers and onion, only wearing his joggers and a tank top. You were a lucky girl, and you knew it. Henry sends you a grin and winks before turning back to cutting the vegetables.

You begin to brew some fresh coffee for Henry, and put on the kettle for your morning tea. While he was finishing up breakfast, you start to read the newspaper to him. He absolutely adored it when you’d read to him, due to your accent becoming more noticeable. Kal came over to you, stuffing his wet nose against the hand you held out to him. “You’re such a good boy, Kal. Yes, you are,” you tell him in a baby voice, “you’re my little angel aren’t you? 我的小天使” 

You clean the table, after eating your breakfast and get ready for the day. Henry was already out to go on a walk with Kal. It did indeed snow last night and everything outside was hidden underneath a thin sheet of white snow, so you made sure Henry was wrapped up in a thick scarf you made him and a black beanie. After giving you a kiss as if he was off to fight in a war, he and Kal happily walked through the front door, into the freezing cold. Him whistling and Kal buzzing with excitement. 

Brushing your teeth and doing your makeup, you dance through the bathroom, in a good mood. You grab your phone that was propped up against the mirror, planning to put on the podcast you had been enjoying lately. You freeze seeing all the notifications, not having heard your phone due to it being on ‘quiet’. You swallow.

Oh shit.

There you were, plastered on the internet for everyone to see and laugh at. You and Henry making out on the parking lot of the Chinese supermarket. Was he going to be angry with you? It was your fault for teasing him after all. Oh no no no…

‘Henry Cavill and girlfriend were spotted having a steamy make out session outside local grocery store’

The headline read, making your face as red as a tomato. Trying to fight against it, you couldn’t hold yourself from reading the next paragraph. 

Being in the middle of winter, doesn’t stop these two lovebirds from having a heated make out session in a parking lot!

Yesterday early in the evening, Witcher-superstar Henry Cavill was spotted with (to some) much younger girlfriend, designer, Y/N Y/L/N. The two have  recently confirmed their relationship with an Instagram post from Cavill, showing a candid of Y/N, with the short caption ‘My sunshine enjoying the sun shine’. Last month Vogue came out with a video featuring Y/L/N in which Cavill and his dog Kal made an appearance, making fans go wild. It seems like the two really are living the life and we are excited to see more of them together!

Want to know more about the stars? Subscribe to STAR NEWS! 

This was it. You could already hear your sweet grandma, praying to the ancestors to forgive you for your sins, lighting all the incense she could find. You were a disgrace to the family now. It wasn’t that you were ashamed or felt bad about doing it, hell, everybody in the position would gladly sit on Henry’s shoulders and stick their tongue down his throat. You were just disappointed you got caught.

From downstairs you hear the door close with a loud thump and the pitter-patter from Kal’s nails on the hardwood floor, letting you know your two boys were back home. You nervously descend the flight of stairs, holding your head low and tightly clutching your phone in hand. 

“Hey, lovey! you really missed something, Kal and I could practically ice skate over the walking trails, it was so much fun!” Henry says enthusiastically as he hears you wander into the living room. You ignore him and plop down on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, not meeting his eyes. 

A frown makes its way onto his face. 

“What are you sorry for, sweet girl?” His eyes hold a concerned look, not understanding what you were talking about. You huff out a breath and hand him your phone so he could see the article. 

A roaring laugh sounds through the open space, making your head shoot up. “Yeah, I saw it this morning when I went and checked my Instagram,” he chuckles, face still rosy from going outside. 

“We really gave the paparazzi a field day, didn’t we?” He continues.

“Your ass looks great in this pic, though. Look,” pointing to the one were he had you lifted over his shoulder, but softens his voice when he sees how tense you were. 

“Aw, doll, loosen up, I’m not mad or anything, if that’s what you think. I’m rather pleased now that everybody can see how happy we are and how much joy you bring me,” he lets you know nonchalantly, pressing a smooch to your forehead and starts to march towards the kitchen.

“You want another cuppa, lovey?”

And just like that, you were back in your good mood, perplexed at how well he took all of this. 

Don’t be a silent reader! Show some love by reblogging and commenting, did it make you laugh, scream, smile? Let me know, it would make my day!

Much love, Nahmi xxx

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[buckyownsmylife]

daddy issues - chapter xv

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N for this chapter: this is 3.2k of unedited drama and I am so fucking proud of it. I wrote this entire thing today, and it’s easily one of the pieces I’m most proud of. So I haven’t been able to fit a proper conversation between the reader and Harlan - I couldn’t make the scene justified if his presence was there, since he does seem to be the one thing that keeps the family on the line - but that means I had some ideas of how I can make up for it in the future! Extra chapter? Perhaps. We are approaching the end though. I only have two more chapter planned for this fic and an epilogue. We’ll see how that goes!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Hey!” I got into the car excited to see him again, but I tried to reason with myself that it was all because of his visit to his grandfather’s publishing company, of course. I wanted to know how that went and I was curious as to what Harlan’s plans were, that was mostly it.

The fact that I had genuinely missed the man by my side after spending just four hours away from him had very little to do with it, or so I tried to tell myself. I didn’t know how to deal with depending so much on someone yet.

But I was trying to.

Ransom’s silence alerted me that something was different. I stopped trying to fix myself to look to the side and find him staring out the window, face expressionless and eyes void of any sentiment.

“Ransom, what’s wrong?” Reaching over, I squeezed his thigh to get his attention, and he jerked as if he was genuinely surprise by my presence in the small vehicle. “You look stressed,” I clarified, eyebrows furrowed in worry as I reached over to push away a strand of hair that had fallen out of place.

He just stared at me for a while and still I couldn’t read what he was thinking. Was he mad at me? Had I done something wrong? After what felt like eternity, he sighed, gripping the steering wheel as he looked on his lap and admitted, “I’m gonna have to go to this family dinner on Friday.”

Immediately, I breathed deeply in relief, suddenly realizing just how worried I actually was that his mood had something to do with me. But then I was reminded of the little that Ransom had told me about this family - even that little felt like too much.

I could only imagine the anxiety he was feeling, and my heart ached to soothe him as best as I could. “Do you want me to go with you?” I asked, running my digits over his nape calmly, keeping my voice as soft as possible to help him relax.

Still, his head snapped up so he could meet my eyes, his wide as two saucers as he struggled to process what I’d said. “… You’d do that?” He sounded so surprised, so genuinely shocked by my offer, that I couldn’t stop myself from giggling, taking both of his hands on mine and squeezing them gently.

“Of course I would, honey.” Ransom’s eyes were so soft as they stared into mine, even as my heart doubled its size in its effort to reach out for his, I found myself justifying, “You went with me to see my parents!”

The way his smile dropped at my explanation had me feeling cold and empty, desperate to see him look at me the same way he was doing only seconds ago.

“Besides,” I forced myself to admit it, trying not to sound as breathless as I felt while I opened my heart to him. “I-I don’t want you to go through that alone. I wanna be there for you, like you were for me.”

Immediately, I felt rewarded on my effort to open up by the smile he gave me. “Thank you, baby.” He squeezed my hand this time, and when he leaned over and connected our lips on a quick peck, my heart skipped a beat.

I was in love with this man.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

I sighed as we stood in front of my grandfather’s front door, trying to adjust my sweater that suddenly felt uncomfortable. Beside me, she seemed to be doing the exact same thing, fingers pulling on the end of the dress she was wearing, making me smile.

The dress highlighted her bump - it was now undeniable that she was pregnant and even if I’d never been particularly attracted to women in this stage of life, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her now.

It was like she shined from within. Her beauty amazed me, and so when she noticed me staring and stopped fiddling with her clothes, straightening herself up to ask, “Do I look okay?” I had to stop myself from laughing.

“Yes.” More than okay. “But are you sure you won’t be cold?” We’d gone through this argument before leaving the house, so I was prepared to see her rolling her eyes as she reached out to take my hand in hers.

“Unless your family has the habit of dining outdoors regardless of the weather, I think we’ll be alright.” I chuckled, rubbing my thumb on the back of her hand, but it sounded nervous even to my own ears. It didn’t surprise me that she noticed it. “Are you ready?” She questioned, voice in that soothing tone she used whenever she noticed my stress.

“Not at all,” I admitted, but in all honesty, the prospect of joining my family for dinner didn’t seem as bad as it usually did. Not with her by my side.

“I’m here for you.” Hearing her say those words meant more to me than I was able to properly express at that moment so I just stared at her, taking in the fact that this incredible person actually cared about me.

“Just… don’t leave me alone, okay?” Her immediate nod had me smiling. It prompted me to once again lean over and connect our lips, only this time, when I tried to pull away, she kept me close with her hand on the back of my neck.

Who knows where this kiss might have led us if the door hadn’t open right at that moment, revealing my lousy uncle who stared from me to her with wide eyes?

“… She’s pregnant? With your baby?” A groan was all I could muster as a response, tugging her into the house with me. “When were you going to tell your family?”

“For fuck’s sake,” I cursed, looking around the living room for the bar. “Where’s the goddamn alcohol?” There was no way I’d be able to survive this night without it, as much as I wanted to be supportive of Y/N.

“I think that’s a bottle of scotch,” I heard her whispering next to me, pointing towards a corner of the room, and I sighed in relief at her understanding.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

An hour into the evening and I had already understood why Ransom was the way that he was - and why he liked his grandfather so much, despite how he felt about the rest of the family.

Harlan was gentle where all of his children were… prickly. In fact, he was the only one who addressed me at all, but I found myself feeling grateful for it, since when the dinner actually started, I wanted the rest of the family to forget about me completely.

“I am so sorry,” Harlan apologized, rubbing his hands nervously as he stared at the rest of the family who was walking towards the dining room. “I sleep early, everyone knows that, but this is the only time they could all gather and since they didn’t know you were coming…”

I waved away his apologies, offering him a hug as I wished him good night. “Just as long as you’ve had your dinner, Harlan. Thanks for welcoming me into your home.”

He accepted my embrace easily, taking advantage of the proximity to whisper in my ear, “Just hang on to him, dear. I promise it’ll be worth it.” I smiled when we parted, nodding in confirmation to his words.

“It already is,” I assured him, but he only sighed.

“Make sure to remember that during dinner…” Now I understood why. It started with a simple question, one of the maids offered me some meat, and when I hesitated to answer…

“God, are you daft, girl? Have you never eaten lamb?” My eyes widened in surprise, but before Ransom could have the chance to throw himself at his mother, I just squeezed his thigh.

“I was going to ask her if there was any oregano in the sauce. It’s been making me feel sick.” I didn’t need to add why - the reminder of my situation, of what led me to be there with them in this dining room was very clear in me.

And still, that didn’t stop them.

“That’s a pretty necklace…” Ransom’s father commented before we could even grab a bite. I chuckled to myself, immediately catching onto what he wasn’t saying.

“Thanks, I got it at a little boutique back home. It was a gift for myself after I got my first paycheck.” I could feel Ransom’s gaze on me, the waves of pride rolling from him in waves. It made me smile, but it was just the calm before the storm.

“Ransom, have you contacted a lawyer?”  This question came from his uncle’s wife, Donna - I think that’s what she was called. Not that she tried to introduce herself to me or anything, but Harlan made sure I knew everyone’s name as soon as I stepped inside the house.

“Why?” Ransom’s tone was vicious and his squinted eyes alerted everyone that he was prepared for a strike, but the fact that he still hadn’t anticipated what was coming almost made me laugh.

Even Donna herself hesitated, unbelieving that he was going to make her say it. “There’s no way you’re that stupid.” And just like that, the doors to hell were opened up.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but then again, was I really surprised?

“You should make sure to draw a prenup,” Donna insisted, while the rest of the family pretended not to hear, undoubtedly coming up with their own ways to insult Y/N. “Something that will assure only your kid has access to your money.”

I could hear Y/N quietly laughing to herself next to me, but while she was able to find the irony in the situation amusing, all I felt was blinding rage.

“God, do you even hear the shit you say? I never asked for your input, this, right here, is precisely why I didn’t tell any of you all about my baby.” I saw Y/N flinch from the corner of my eyes before I heard my mother’s fork drop against the precious porcelain dish she was pretending to eat from. I knew this was the sorest topic of discussion for her. I knew this was why she had been pretending Y/N wasn’t even there, hadn’t even been invited to dinner with me.

“Fair enough,” she spoke, lying back against her chair as she finally raised her eyes to meet mine. “I don’t know if we even should learn anything about this child, considering it most likely isn’t even yours.”

It was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice over me. Y/N was oddly quiet now, seemingly as frozen as me - and when I realized that, my anger returned with twice its power.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” I warned, just as my mother retorted, “Don’t you talk like that to me.” I didn’t even have the chance to talk back when she stroke again. “You fuck so many ransom desperate chicks, I’m surprised this is the first you knocked up.”

This was as insulting to her as it was to me, and it also struck a chord in me because of how I feared this was just reinforcing Y/N’s views of me. “Don’t say shit like that,” I threatened, to no avail. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Ransom…” Her sweet voice tried to intervene, but I was too far gone to hold myself back now. I couldn’t stand the thought that I was hurting her because I was the reason she was here in the first place.

“You know nothing about her, and yet you feel comfortable judging her,” I continued, ignoring her completely. “She’s a lawyer, actually. You would know it if you had even bothered to talk to her. If there was ever the need for a prenup, I’d have her draw it.”

Maybe they thought I’d stop at that - I thought so myself, until I realized there was still so much I wanted to get out, and I was going to do that now.

“And you know what? I trust her more than I trust you, and I came out of you. So maybe you should consider that before you attack the one person I try to introduce to my family.” I hated everything about this. I hated how they still managed to get to me, how the fact that my own mother, who I didn’t even respect, still managed to make me feel inadequate about the one thing in my life that made me excited.

I knew I’d always lose with them. They just had this way of inciting the beast in me - they brought out the worst in me, and I felt helpless to fight it.

“Okay, so she’s not some random skank,” my uncle oh-so-helplessly interrupted, immediately making me want to punch him in his stupid face. “But this just means she’s the one playing you.”

“Oh, shut up!” I threw my hands up, pushing my chair away from the table, fully intended to storm out of the room until Meg was the one who stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Did you even get a paternity test, Ransom?” She seemed almost uncomfortable to voice it, eyes darting from me to Y/N, but I could read her apologetic smile perfectly.

She just didn’t want someone else to get Harlan’s attention and interest because that would potentially mean less money to each and everyone of the people in this room, as he’d add one more person to his aid list.

My father took advantage of what Meg said, waving in her direction. “Don’t you know how important this family is? How quickly she could rise in any job because of a connection to us?”

My mother scoffed, finally ready to interfere again. “Knowing she’s actually smart leaves me even more surprised that you’ve relented and decided to become someone’s little plaything until this baby pops out. I’m assuming a few months with a screaming kid and you’re just gonna abandon her anyway. Which is fine by me, I won’t have to pretend to be a grandmother for long.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

All I could think was how grateful I was that I had accompanied him to this dinner tonight. As I watched his chest heaving with fury, I could not imagine how he would have felt having to deal with all of this on his own.

“Ransom,” I tried to catch his attention, pulling him back to his seat. “Ransom, it’s okay,” I tried to appease him, but he was too fucking gone to care.

“No, it’s not okay, he pushed my hand away, getting up from his chair to lean over the table, both hands on top of it as he stared at his mother.  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He yelled, making me flinch, although Linda hardly seemed bothered by it.

Then, much to my surprise, Ransom straightened up, running a hand through his hair as an emotionless chuckle escaped him. “No, you know what? You’re right. You’re not gonna be a grandmother. I’m gonna be a father, Harlan’s gonna be a great-grandfather, but that’s it. I’m not gonna keep taking your shit anymore, Linda, you know why? Even if this child wasn’t mine, I’d still want her and this kid.”

My heartbeat pumped out of control as he continued, “She’s not just someone who’s carrying my child. I care about her. And if you can’t respect her, than I guess I was right in keeping this pregnancy from you.”

I held my breath as Ransom apparently caught his, my head swirling with the different emotions running through me - my infatuation for this man, who had so fiercely defended me from his entire family, the adrenaline from witnessing such a vicious argument.

I truly believed this would be the end of it. I didn’t know where they could go from here - that was, of course, until Linda decided to attack him.

“Oh, and you think you’re going to be so great with it?” My blood boiled when her words turned against her own son so easily. Attack me and my dignity? That was okay, these people didn’t know me.

But seeing her attack Ransom was just too much for me.

“Do you think she’ll want to keep you around once she realizes she’ll be raising two children with you to weigh her down?” Ransom visibly faltered, like she had slapped him, and that’s when I had enough. “You’ll never be able to give her the emotional support that she needs and you know that.”

I rose to my feet at that, holding onto my lower back as I softly slapped Ransom’s back in an attempt to calm him down. “I got this, babe.” He was so surprised - and still so hurt by his mother’s statements - that he didn’t even try to stop me. In fact, I think he didn’t even realize what was going on until I turned to Linda and started talking.

“Do you really think that poorly of your son that you can’t believe he has anything to offer in a relationship?” Now she was the one who looked up at me with an expression that looked like I had physically hurt her.

“Is it that unbelievable to you, that someone would be able to like him for him?” She didn’t seem to be able to find anything to answer to me, and when I turned to Richard, I was also met with silence.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

“Well, I do,” she announced, like it was the single most obvious thing, the simplest fact to deduce in the world, while I stood back watching her with my mouth hanging open. “I like him enough to be willing to open up to him even if one day he might leave me because to me, he is worth any possibility of future pain.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d never had anyone defend me like this, not even Harlan - not even my parents, when I was a kid and the bigger children decided to bully me.

No, back then all I got was a talk about how “real men don’t cry” and if my father ever caught me cowering from someone else again he’d give me a real reason to be afraid.

“And I do say possibility,” she continued, not having raised her voice for even a second and still to effortlessly able to catch the attention of everyone in the room, assure herself the ground to speak her mind without the fear of interruptions. “Because Ransom’s actions have never given me any reason to think that outcome is even remotely probable.”

“So maybe you think about your own opinions of your son’s character and see if they don’t reflect your own more than they reflect his actions.” She turned around after that, tiny hand encircling my wrist as she began to yank me in the direction of the front door.

“Let’s go.”

[andithiel]

I've been feeling a bit detatched from my writing lately, but I wanted to do something for Harry's birthday. So I managed to get out 2k of, I think maybe fluff? Many thanks to @booktopusmunro for the speedy beta and encouragement ❤️ Happy birthday Harry! Sidenote: Sega Mega Drive was called Sega Genesis in the US. This fic is loosely based on a scene from the Friends episode “The One Where Rachel Finds Out”.

Start Level

“Everybody! Hey, everybody, settle down! It’s time for Harry to open his presents!”

Ron’s sonoroused voice made Harry wince as he sat cross-legged in his favourite squishy armchair. A belly full of birthday cake and the comfort of  his friends surrounding him made Harry sleepy; but as he watched them all scramble to get seated as close to him as possible, a warmth rose in his chest. Ron had, of course, already sat down on the sofa closest to Harry before he made the announcement, but at Harry’s single raised eyebrow he shrugged with a crooked grin.

Harry snorted. He knew that with five older brothers, it was inevitable that Ron knew how to get to the front first. He looked around the room, trying not to tear up at the sight of all his friends gathered around, sitting on each other’s laps or perched on tables and armrests, all looking expectedly at him.

“Oh dear, what’s wrong with him?” Pansy stage-whispered to Hermione.

“Nothing,” said Harry, to let Hermione off the hook. “I’m just happy to get to spend my birthday with the people I love.”

Well, all except one, he thought. Draco hadn’t been able to get out of his work shift, and Harry refused to admit how disappointed he’d been when he’d found out about that, because it wasn’t reasonable for him to be. It wasn’t as if he expected Draco to be around all the time now just because they were sort of friends, or at least hung out in the same friend circles. But still, it wasn’t every day you turned 25 and wanted to celebrate with the people you cared most about.

Harry accepted the gift that Ron handed to him with a smile and a “Happy birthday, mate.” He tore the wrappings off to reveal a set of Wizards Chess. At Harry’s puzzled expression Ron explained. “Well, since you lost your old set I thought I’d give you a new one so we can play again!”

“Right,” Harry said with a tight smile, not mentioning that he knew damn well where his old set was (buried deep in a box in his attic because he was sick of losing to Ron all the time). “Thanks,” he managed to grind out, hoping it sounded sincere.

The rest under the cut or on ao3

“Maybe this one will be more useful,” said Blaise, as he handed Harry a thick, heavy parcel.

“Thanks Blaise!” Harry turned the package in his hands. “Hmmm, it feels like a book. Pretty sure it’s a book.” He unwrapped it. “And it’s a book! It’s— oh.”

“What, Harry?” Luna straightened up a bit to try and get a look.

“Um, nothing,” said Harry, trying to hide the Kama Sutra for Beginners behind his back. “Nothing, it’s, uh, I’ll have a closer look at this later.”

Blaise smirked and Harry whipped his head around to the stack of gifts next to him, wanting to occupy his mind with something other than the writhing bodies on the cover of the book currently taking up all the space in his head. “Who’s this from?” He picked up a big box wrapped in black paper with little golden snitches on it and a big golden bow on top.

“Oh that’s Draco’s,” said Pansy. “I promised I’d give it to you since he couldn’t make it today.”

“Right, right. Thanks Pansy,” Harry mumbled as he carefully peeled the tape from the paper, both so he wouldn’t tear it and so he could busy himself with the task instead of thinking about how Draco was holed up in St Mungo’s on Harry’s birthday.

He finally managed to get all the tape off and unwrapped the gift slowly. The sight of the box made him let out a gush of air, unable to believe that this was really real. Had Draco actually bought him—?

“What is it, Harry?” asked Hermione, trying to lean in closer to see what was in the box.

“I can’t—” Harry began, before swallowing and starting over. “I can’t believe he remembered.”

“What? What is it?” came a collective query from the group, everyone edging closer now.

Carefully, Harry opened the box to see if the content really matched the exterior, and when he’d made sure it really did, he had to pause again to blink repeatedly against the sting in his eyes. Then he picked up the black plastic box, twisting it in his hands. The room was silent, probably because few of them knew what this was.

“It’s a Muggle video game,” Harry tried to explain. “It’s… It must’ve been weeks ago, months maybe. We passed a Muggle second-hand store and I saw this and I… I made some throwaway comment about how Dudley used to have one of these but I was never allowed to play.” He stroked his thumb over the white letters forming the words “Mega Drive SEGA”, while memories of how he’d desperately wanted to play resurfaced in his mind. This console, like so many others before and after it, had not lasted long in the Dursley household. Before Harry had had any chance at trying it out, Dudley had stomped on it after the umpteenth attempt of getting past Dr. Eggman in the Oil Ocean Zone.

“Oh,” said Hermione softly in his ear, making him realise how close she was. “I remember these! Never had one myself but I sometimes played on my friend’s.”

Harry couldn’t stop staring. It wasn’t an extravagant gift, money-wise, but the thoughtfulness and the effort it must have taken Draco to find this for him was astounding. The game was almost mint condition. Draco must’ve gone back to the store to get a better look, and then found it in another store, because the one they’d seen had been old and battered. The gift made something stir in Harry, something he hadn’t allowed himself to think about before, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for even now.

“Oh, come on, remember when Draco went to Healer school and he fell in love with Keith Hendricks and bought him that ridiculously expensive non-spatter cauldron?” Ron chortled on Harry’s other side.

The room fell quiet and it took a few seconds for Ron’s words to process in Harry’s brain. He snapped his eyes up, looking sharply at Ron, whose ears had gone bright red.

“What did you just say?”

Ron’s eyes went wide and he gave Pansy, who was staring at him with a thunderous expression, a panicked look. “Uh…” said Ron, then cleared his throat several times while shrinking into the sofa. “Er… huh… ummm, non-spatter cauldron?”

“No. No, no,” said Harry, trying to wrap his head around Ron’s words. “The um, the ‘love’ part?”

Ron was now spluttering, frantically looking around the room for any sort of help from someone, and that was enough for the truth to register in Harry’s brain.

“Oh. My. God,” was all he managed to get out.

“Oh, noooo nononononono,” Ron chanted, rubbing his temples. “Noooo, I’m such a lousy friend!”

“I cannot believe this is the first time I hear about this!” Pansy snapped. “And to think that Draco confided in you, of all people!”

Ron straightened up and threw her a sharp look. “Hey! The ferret and I have a very trusting and mature friendship!”

“Yes, clearly he did the right thing trusting you with this information!” Pansy said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well it’s not like I’ve told anyone else! I’ve even kept it from my own wife!”

“Oh, bravo, Weasel, ten points to Gryffindor.” Pansy inclined her head in Ron’s direction and clapped her hands in mock applause. “And then you chose this moment to spill the beans, very clever. I’ll have you know that I’ve kept it a secret that he had a crush on Potter back at Hogw—” she said, but interrupted herself. “Er, nevermind.”

Harry felt like he was watching a ping pong match, his mind reeling at all this information. Draco’d had a crush on him at Hogwarts? And now he was in love with him?

“Aha!” Ron shouted triumphantly. “Who’s the bad friend now?”

“Can the two of you shut the fuck up?!” Harry said, surprised at his own words and the force behind them. “I need to think.”

“Yes! Yes, give the poor man some space to think!” Ron hastily said, his expression amix of relieved and frantic.

But before Harry had time to properly panic, the door opened.

“Well, I had to bribe Healer Merriweather by taking all her night shifts for a month, but at least I managed to get here,” said Draco as he stepped inside, impeccably dressed as ever. “Please tell me I haven’t missed the cake.” He paused in front of the doorway, looking around the room, all eyes turned on him. “What? What happened? Is there something on my shirt?” He started patting himself all over, looking for a non-existing stain.

Harry could only stare at him, at the way his hair fell into his eyes and how he had to constantly flick his head to keep it away. The flush on his cheeks from apparently having rushed from the hospital, just to be able to celebrate Harry’s birthday because he knew how important it was to him. Or maybe because he’d seen how disappointed Harry’d been when Draco’d told him he wouldn’t be able to make it and now he‘d wanted to make it up to him. The care with which he had selected a present for Harry just to make him happy. There was a swooping sensation in Harry’s stomach, and suddenly his mouth started speaking before he could stop himself.

“You’re in love with me?”

Draco froze, his eyes widening comically before flitting around the room to finally land on Ron, who seemed to try to make himself a permanent part of Harry’s sofa. After a split second, Draco leaned back into the hallway, not meeting Harry’s eyes once. “Wait, what’s that? Oh, no! I see Head Healer Patel’s patronus, oh this can’t be good, I really must be off.”

He turned around and bolted for the door, but with the reflexes of a seeker, Harry apparated into the hallway, right in front of the stairs.

“You’re in love with me,” he repeated, more like a statement now, or maybe a confirmation to himself.

Draco folded his arms across his chest, lifting his chin. “I have no idea what gave you that impression, Potter, but—”

“Ron told me. Or, well, to be fair he accidentally let it slip.”

“Weasel,” Draco hissed. “I should’ve known it was unwise to get drunk with him. That red-headed buffoon act is a great cover to trick people into trusting him with—”

He didn’t get any further, because right then, Harry decided that he needed to do what he did best: use his gut. And his gut told him that he was pants with words, especially compared to Draco. And he wanted to make Draco stop talking, so he did the first thing that came to mind. He stepped closer and pressed his lips to Draco’s. It was probably the most chaste kiss he’d ever experienced, and yet it gave his stomach that funny swooping feeling again. Draco made a funny sound, like a mix of a squeak and a sharp inhale, and Harry realised that maybe this wasn’t what Draco wanted and started to pull back. But then he was thoroughly proven wrong when Draco grabbed him by the collar and pushed him backwards until they hit the opposite wall. Harry gasped when his head thumped against it, and then again when Draco opened his mouth and really kissed him, hands still fisted in Harry’s shirt.

It was the kind of kiss that, had they not been in Harry’s hallway, it would’ve led to other things. Harry’s body responded immediately, and he desperately wanted more. But their frantic snogging came to an abrupt halt when they suddenly realised they weren’t alone anymore.

“Oh,” someone said softly, and Harry didn’t need to look to know it was Luna.

Then someone (who sounded a lot like Pansy) shouted “What?” and there was the unmistakable sound of all their friends rushing to get to Harry’s front door first, then someone else (definitely Ron) yelled, “I don't need to see that!”

Harry kept his gaze firmly on Draco, cheeks gone pink and lips wonderfully kiss-swollen.

“Let’s go to your place, yeah?”

Draco nodded, eyes bright, his bottom lip disappearing between his teeth. Harry couldn’t wait to suck it into his mouth again.

“Right, hang on for one second,” Harry said, fishing out his wand from his pocket. “Accio Draco’s present!” With a spark of satisfaction he heard Blaise mutter “Ow!” when the box undoubtedly smacked into his head as it zoomed towards Harry’s outstretched hand.

But just as he was about to catch it, Draco cast a Depulso, making the game fly towards Luna, who caught it with an expression of curiosity as she twisted it in her hands.

“I’m very happy that you like your present so much, but trust me, Harry,” Draco murmured into his ear, “there won’t be time for any video games when I get you alone.”

[ra-2506]

₮ł₮ⱠɆ: Dragon Mafia

BAKUGOU X BLACK FEMALE READER

CHAPTER 1- 😂🍺Suprise Ya Sad Bitch😆🍺😂

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You were just minding your own business in your house on a weekend just chilling, you were catching up on a series on netflix until you are interrupted, your peace was interrupted by a call, you picked up the phone to see that it was Mei Hatsumei.

Y/n= "Perra(bitch)😠, this better be good, I was catching up on f/s (Favorite series) and it was getting juicy😞".

Mei= "Can a girl check up on her one of her best friends forever to see how they're doing?😋"

Y/n= "Woman😒, you don't need to sweet talk me and sugar-coat it 🙄,what the hell do you want from me?🙁"

Mei= "Okay I kind of need a favour ?😟, As in you performing at a club tonight?😅", your eyes twitch at the nerve this woman had, you promised yourself to never ever sing again and yet here she is asking you."

Y/n= "Hell No!😤",  Mei= "Come on it's just 1 gig, they're paying over $2,000 dollars😉, plus some extra cute guys will be there😏".

Y/n= "Yeah, No😑",you were not convinced and as you were just about to end the call, but then she something that piked your interest.

Mei= "I can ask the people to increase the price!?" ,she pleaded.

Y/n= "😒No" ,You bluntly replied and not caring at all.  Mei= "PLEASE Y/N YOU NEED TO SING AGAIN I MISS YOUR SWEET VOICE!😫🙏", She was practically begging you.

Y/n= "Your seriously that desperate aren't you?😑", you asked her pleading voice almost getting to you.

Mei= "Yes😊, so Please?",You could tell that she was making a pouty face at the sound of her voice .

Y/n= "$6000?,then?🤨" , you tried to negotiate the terms of the price.

Mei= "$5000?" , Y/n= "$7000?"

Mei= "$6000?" ,Y/n= "$7000!" ,The two of you bickered back and forth, back and forth and you came up with something.

"How about $10,000?😒" ,you innocently asked basically jumping a whole lot of numbers.

Mei= "Are you out of your bloody mind?!", she screamed at you through the phone you basically had to take the phone away from your ear because she was so loud.

"Honey~🤭😏" ,You started with such a sweet little voice, your sly side showing, "you have basically known me for five years😉, yes I'm being serious🙄, unless you can make up to that price then you can might as well cut this call😜", you could basically hear her temper rising.

Yes, mei was a happy and joyous person ,but even she had her limits, "So maybe i won't be attending the club then?😊🤷🏾‍♀️, bye mei".

Before you could end the call, she said 'fine' and you were taken back by it ,'$10, 000,000 fucking dollars!' who in the bloody hell has that kind of money 💵🤨?' You thought to yourself.

"I'll text you the address and by the way it's tonight so wear something really cute",she innocently told you before ending the call, that sneaky little wolf.

You were pissed at the fact that you had to leave your house on a weekend, you honestly just wanted to sit down and chill like the lousy couch potato you are, 'Boy oh boy😔, Mei owe me one for this😠', you thought to yourself as you started to get ready for going to the club and took a quick shower.

You got ready and were looking pretty and feeling fly, you finished your look with some lipgloss and left the house to go to the exact address Mei texed you by getting there by an uber.

The club was somewhere around some building by an alleyway so the uber could only get you by one of the building alleyways so you had to walk the rest of the way.

TIMESKIP INTO THE CLUB cause im a lazy ass bitch.

You later found out that some of your friends came along with Mei.You and the gang walked into the club and this song was playing (the one on top)

"Ok now y'all can go out and dance and drink and do what ever while I go up there" he pointed to a balcony that way up stairs,"and I'm going to talk to the bosses and get the contract for you guys singing here and the money and all that business shit"he announced.

"But don't get too high or drink while I'm gone got it ", he asked us and we all nodded, once he was gone everyone went their own separate ways.

You went to the bar and sat on the chair and decided to have a bit of a drink before singing.

"What can I get you this evening miss" the bartender asked with his his back to you, "I'll just have a Hennessey on the rocks" you replied.

"Cool and here you go madam" he said turning around, I took the drink and took a sip," Damn this is good Mr....." I complimented and turned to him waiting for his name only to see him frozen in place.

"Umm.... Hello" you waved your hand in front of his face and then snapped your fingers, he shock his head snapping out if it.

"Sorry miss , the names Kenji Hamasaki and it's just that it's not everyday you see well ......."

"A black women"

"Yeah, I normally see white people"

"Let me guess tourists"

"Yep"

"So what a woman like you doing in a place like this"

"Me and my crew are singin tonight and the boss went upstairs to talk to the bosses about our payment and all that"

"You and your friends are gonna be singing up there?", he asked pointing to where your boss went.

"Yep", you bluntly replied,"Wow you guys must be really good if you are singing up there you know that's where the big bosses are"Hamasaki addressed impressed.

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༶ • ┈⛧┈♛ 1018𝕎𝕆ℝ𝔻 ℂ𝕆𝕌ℕ𝕋 ♛┈⛧┈ • ༶

[bangtan-pugh-bug]

Scott Lang x reader

Chapter 16

Warnings: none except swearing as usual

I hope you enjoy this, I’m sorry for not updating this for what feels like ages. I’ve been at uni and very distracted. I’ve also been insecure about my writing being shit but oh well. Enjoy :) and let me know if you want to be added to my taglist

The controversy had swayed slightly in your favour. Finally people had begun to question why a certain ex Mrs Lang knew so much about a young, non celebrity girl and how fucked it all was (except fucked was not the word the media had used). There was a significant less amount of tension between everyone in the tower. Stephen, to no ones surprise, had been right. The media would move on.

You watched Scott take his second phone call of the morning, coffee in hand and Antony flying close by. ‘Hank needing you again?’ He nodded before continuing to listen intently. The kitchen swarmed with hungry Avengers, struggling to find the space not to bump shoulders while they buttered toast, fried eggs and poured milk into hideous neon bowls. Peter’s choice. The kid had questionable taste on a good day.

‘Y/N!’ Toast crumbs flew out of the boys mouth as he made his way over to you. Since his growing worries about his ‘beautiful’ MJ, you’d been spending more time together. He irritated you, sure, but he was one of the sweetest people you’d ever made friends with. Scott treated him like a son, when he wasn’t too busy, and you found yourself feeling sisterly towards him. Plus it was an excellent distraction from the controversy.

Peter smiled like someone with more than just good news on their mind. ‘I asked her out! I did it!’ He was beaming from ear to ear. You listened, as everyone else continued eating and chatting, to the hard to follow story of how Peter asked his girl out. Finally. You asked the usual questions ‘Were you nervous?’ ‘Did you pick a date?’ ‘Did she say she had a problem with dating a senior who takes the term web design to a whole new level?’. The answer was no to all except the second. (That weekend would be the date).

‘So you’ll be missing my birthday.’

Everyone stopped what they were doing immediately. What the fuck. You’d never once heard Stephen Strange mention his birthday. Whenever Tony or yourself had asked if he wanted to do anything he’d clammed up. Of course Tony or the Vision could easily find out the exact date but why bother if he didn’t want to celebrate?‘You want to celebrate… your birthday?’ You questioned the wizard.

‘Isn’t that what humans are supposed to do?’

‘You’re hu-OW!’

You kneed Peter under the table. ‘Of course he is.’ which earned you a suspiciously warm smile from Strange. Scott ended his phone call to ask Peter a hundred questions about MJ, which you found sweet, whilst Tony and Nat grilled the poor wizard about presents and venues.

Then came the third ring from Scott’s phone. ‘Hank’s desperate huh?’ Nat asked innocently, not noticing the look Tony saved just for your eyes. Pity. The man was bored and making up problems for his peers. It was no secret that Tony hadn’t been expanding much recently. The swimming pool had been a time waster so he didn’t have to think about Iron Man. You didn’t blame him. You were the queen of procrastinating but the government didn’t rely on you to protect Earth.

‘So denial it is?’ Wanda sniggered, pulling you aside as the kitchen was too busy. Scott was mere metres away, sounding more and more stressed down the phone, what the fuck was wrong? Whatever was happening was pressing. Dangerous? Too dangerous to tell you about because it would put YOU in danger? Maybe…

‘No.’

‘Okay..’

‘Don’t- don’t do that.’

‘I’m not doing anything. What’s Scott doing?’

‘I. Don’t. Know.’

‘Exactly.’

Shit- no not shit. It was fine. If Scott needed to tell you something important he fucking would.

RING RING

He would.

Stephen was still being laden with birthday questions just looked amused in his overly formal suit. It was a good look on him, you thought, blue. ‘I don’t need balloons and I don’t need flowers.’ You heard as you left. ‘But Sir, I’ve read that real flowers give humans significant increase in serotonin.’

You went to your room for some much needed peace. Scott was busy, Tony was acting more strange than usual and Thor was still devouring breakfast food at lightning speed. The tv in your room hadn’t gotten much use since you and Scott only used the bedroom for sex or sleep. It deserved some love too.

‘I know. It’s hard to narrow down isn’t it?’

You jumped at the sound of Stephen’s voice because frankly he was the last person you expected in your room. He’d never gone in before and you’d only seen his once. Once when you had your infamous drunken make out session. ‘You scared the shit out of me.’ Normally you would have laughed but Tony and Wanda had gotten in your head. Wanda quite literally.

‘Really? Me?’ He clutched his chest as if hurt. Not a lot of people saw Stephen’s funny side but you did. ‘Did you want something?’ You asked him after hesitating. ‘I kind of wanna be alone for a bit.’ To spare his feelings you masked your honesty with a forced chuckle that promised ‘I’m not being rude but please leave’. Your message was only partially received.

‘I don’t think you want to be alone. You just want me to leave you alone.’

‘Getting more and more true.’

Your tone seemed pointed even to you, which came as a surprise. You could feel yourself getting more irritated but it wasn’t at Stephen. It wasn’t his fault the media was after you and Scott. It wasn’t his fault everyone thought your relationship was a joke and you spent all of your time worrying if you and Scott were on the same page. Who’s fault was any of it?

‘From your tone I think it’s safe to say Scott hasn’t said “I love y-‘

‘It’s nothing to do with you!’

Your reply came out as more of an angry shriek than you intended but the man was pushing all the wrong buttons at the worst time. The following silent moments were filled by your conscious decision to say nothing in that way again. ‘I’m sorry,’ Stephen, seeing the instant change in your tone and body language thought it safe to sit beside you. ‘I don’t want to be angry and I’m not angry at you.’

Stephen cleared his throat and flirted with the idea of placing a hand on your shoulder. He decided not to. ‘I understand why you are Y/N. I’m quick to anger too.’

‘I’m not usually!’ You snapped instantly, causing Stephen to raise his eyebrows at your lousy defence. However it was true. You’d never felt this raw and emotional since meeting Scott. He made everything heightened. It was almost too much.

‘Stephen,’ the two of you looked up to the source of the sound. ‘Can I have Y/N back?’ Scott chuckled and your heart lifted, although you didn’t appreciate the implication that Stephen had ‘had’ you. The stupidly tall wizard made a ‘of course’ gesture with his hand and you shot him a thank you smile before running to Scott. It didn’t matter that you’d only just seen him that morning, you felt as if the two of you hadn’t spent much quality time together since Hank’s phone calls and Peter’s queries to you. In the day at least.

‘What do you want to do?’ You beamed at Scott, knowing he knew you wanted him all to yourself. ‘Drive?’ He kissed you with surprising force, as if he thought you were a mirage that would disappear if he didn’t try to consume some part of you quickly. It made you certain that Stephen was rolling his eyes.

Taglist: @supraveng @thottio @wandamaximoffshoe @aliceblxck @merleisapartygod @brianmayscurls @psychadelichues

[writteninkat]

xii - overwhelmed

word count - 2,220

"if i love you was a promise, would you break it if you're honest?"

index

You walk towards the classroom with your palms sweating and your heart about to beat right out of your chest. You had just confessed to Katsuki thinking he also felt the same, but all he replied was a lousy 'you don't even know me'.

You furrow your brows, clenching your palms into fists in irritation. How am I so stupid? I came to Japan to prove myself and to that dumb father of mine that I can be a powerful hero! And yet here I am being swept off track by some lousy high school crush!

"Careful- if you stare any harder you're gonna melt holes through the walls." A tired and very familiar voice calls out feom behind you. You turn around, anger still clouding your head as your eyes fall on a violet-haired boy.

"Careful- if you don't do anything about your lack of sleep anytime soon you're gonna collapse." You spat back; suddenly everything around you vexes you. You send a mental message to everyone in school; today you're hot-headed, your patience is as thin as a hair strand and taking out your anger through physical violence seems like an amazing idea right about now.

"Jokes on you, I've been like this my whole life and I've never collapsed." He smirks, causing you to raise a brow. "Okay maybe I never collapsed from my lack of sleep."

"Look what the hell do you want?"

"Well- thought you looked pretty upset." He holds up two pastel yellow-colored papers. "And I just so happen to have two free ice cream passes for that new ice cream place right beside the campus." He takes a look at his watch, "We still have an hour and thirty minutes till the bell rings. What do you say?"

"And that idiot just says 'you barely even know me'" You wave your hands up, making a dumb face as well as a dumb voice to match, "like hello! I know I barely know you and that's why I feel so upset and conflicted right now! You get what I mean???" You huff back on your seat, shoving the small pink translucent teaspoon in your mouth.

Shinsou nods his head, eyes on his ice cream as he shoves a few scoops in his mouth. "Mmm- this banana flavor tastes amazing. You should try it." He offers his cup to you, making you frown.

"You're such a jerk! I thought you brought me here to let me vent out my anger." You frown, your eyebrows knitting together as you place your cup on the table, leaning back on your seat as you crossed your arms.

"I did. I listened as you vented out your anger to me and we're having ice cream but I never said we were going to talk about the situation." He points out, annoyingly unbothered expression resting on his face as he continues eating his own ice cream.

You look at him in irritation and silence for a few moments, trying to calm yourself before taking your little teaspoon and scooping a bit from his own cup. You shove the scoop inside your mouth, pouting. "The banana tastes amazing." You huff, expression still angry.

Shinsou chuckles lightly, the small smile actually lighting up his usually dark features. "It is, isn't it?" You've only ever met one person with a so-called 'contagious smile' and he was the funny boy you met at the park one day.

Ethan will have to share his spot in my list for 'contagious smiles'. You thought to yourself, letting a smile break your frown as you look down at your ice cream.

"Have you seen the new conjuring movie? It's pretty cool, a solid six out of ten." He shrugs. You shake your head, "I can't watch scary movies. I won't be able to sleep especially now that I live alone."

He raises a brow at you, "Oh come on. We can watch it together through video chat or something. I really wanna see you piss yourself while watching it." He chuckles, causing you to squint your eyes at him. "Is that a challenge?" You point your spoon accusingly at him.

"What if it is? You gonna back out? Loser?" He pushes jokingly, mirroring your squinted eyes. You bring your hand on the table in a fist, "Oh it's on."

Shinso walks you to your classroom just five minutes before the bell is about to ring. "How can I contact you?" He asks, doing the thing with his hand behind his nape as he looks away. "Here." You tug at his hand, writing down your discord account with a marker. "Call me after the sun sets. I'll be home by then."

He waves you good bye and you step in, almost completely forgetting about why you were annoyed so early in the morning. Your eyes fall on the blond boy, still looking angry as usual. His eyes meet yours for a fraction of a second before your looking towards your seat.

As you sit down, the bell rings and in comes Aizawa, tired as ever. "Today, you will all be choosing your hero names. This has a lot to do with the Pro-Hero draft picks and because you are only first years, any offers can be taken back before you graduate." He explains, pointing at a chart where Todoroki's, Katsuki's and your names are written at the top with thousands of heroes wanting to recruit you.

"You will all spend one week interning with the pro heroes you choose or those who chose you, depending on if you have multiple offers or just one." Aizawa continues to talk about the importance of hero names before Midnight walks in the classroom.

The class begins to cheer in excitement as they all are given boards and markers for their names. The cheering and yelling dies down in a few minutes but the excitement doesn't. You smile, feeling your heart throb at the innocent looks in your classmates' faces.

Each of you all are being called up to present your hero names and as your turn slowly comes closer, your palms begin to sweat and that feeling of not being able to stand properly hits you.

"L/n Y/n. It's your turn, come on up sweetie." Midnight calls for you, curling her fingers a few times. You stand from your seat, walking towards the front, keeping your eyes forward and looking anywhere but Katsuki's eyes.

You flip your board around. "I chose the name Tempest. It means a violent windy storm." Midnight claps her hands, "I love it! Basically telling the villains not to mess with the storm." She cheers, allowing you to walk back to your seat.

"So! Have you guys chosen an agency yet?" Mina asks, shoveling food in her mouth as Kirishima and Sero follow suit. You shrug your shoulders, "I'm having a difficult time choosing between Hawks' agency or Endeavor's agency. I want to work on my speed but then again, Endeavor's the number two. It'd be a waste to throw this chance away."

"And yet," Denki points his fork at you, "It's also a waste to throw away the chance of working with Hawks. I heard he's the youngest pro right now who has his own agency and is in the top ten."

As you were about to scold the blond for talking with his mouth full, Katsuki marches towards the table, setting his tray down before sitting down beside Kirishima. You look at the empty space beside you and your mood immediately turns sour.

Wow. Sure, he has the right to feel uncomfortable with my sudden confession but to not actually have some type of closure? You sigh, not bothering to finish your food before standing up. You slide your tray to Denki, earning a cheery mouthful 'thanks!' from him before you walk away.

You walk out the classroom upset, tired and hungry. Your mind races back to the tuna sandwhiches the cafe sold and your mouth immediately begins to water.

"Hey idiot."

All your food fantasies disappear the moment his gruff yet very warm and relaxing voice calls out to you. To make sure you weren't about to embarrass yourself, you look in front of you, searching for someone else only to be greeted by an empty hallway.

Slowly, you turn around, pressing your lips together as you look at Katsuki with the most nonchalant look you could pull, no matter how much you wanted to scowl at him.

"What's up?" You ask, mentally slapping yourself. What's up? What's up??? Who the fuck do you think you are to him, Kirishima??

He looks awaw, walking towards you. "They have new matcha cookies today. I checked before I got here."

You stand there, staring at him for a second, two seconds, five- ten- "Dumbass. Yo. Can you hear me?" Katsuki snaps his fingers in front of you, gaining your attention as he snaps you out of your daze- literally. "Well?"

As much as you want to say yes, accept his offer and just live a happy life, you didn't want to live a confusing one where you get hurt in the end. "I don't see why you have to do this, honestly." You look to your right, looking out the windows.

"We hang out, I feel like you're treating me differently than the others, I feel like I'm special to you, I recognize my feelings, and although I feel conflicted and upset I still confess my feelings to you." You grip onto your bag, "And you respond to me by what- telling me I barely know you?"

You look back at him, the corners of your lips pulled downwards sightly. "Katsuki I- I got the message, okay? Don't do whatever this is to me because from my point of view, you're leading me on cause you can't voice out or even figure out your own feelings." You motion your arms between the two of you. "If you liked hanging out with me, I'm sorry but I gotta keep some distance between the two of us before I go confessing to you again like an idiot."

You stand there, eyes dropped to the floor in silence.

Say something, you idiot! Fucking say something to me! Tell me how you feel- it doesn't matter if it'll hurt me, just say something!

"I'm sorry."

You look up at him, confused. His brows are knitted together in dejection as his shoulders sag momentarily.

You feel your eyes prickle with tears as you nod, pressing your lips together. "Okay." You click your tongue, turning away as you walked from the unnervingly quiet boy.

As you reach your apartment, the sun has already set, you're tired, your cheeks are stained and are still being stained with tears and your phone is blaring.

You answer it without another thought, Shinsou's tired and relaxed voice giving you a soft 'hey'. You can hold it in much longer as you break down into sobs.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Talk to me, Y/n." He sounds genuinely concerned. You sob for a few moments, letting out all the emotion you've pent up inside you as you walked back to your apartment.

"I-I just-"

Another call interrupts the two of you, making you furrow your brows. "Hold on-" You sob, your eyes scanning down your screen to see your mom calling you. You put your call with Shinsou on hold, answering your mom.

"Hey mom!" You cheer, trying to act as gleeful as possible. "Hey baby! So I heard you have a boyfriend, your aunt Miwa sent me a picture of the two of you in the paintball place? I just thought maybe you wanted to know about that boy's abrasive and violent past?"

He's not your boyfriend.

"What- you looked into him?" You yell.

"Well I had to! It's my first time my baby has a boyfriend. Anyway, I don't mean to be that mom but I don't think he's a good fit for you, honey. He's bullied countless students in middle school and after observing how he acted in the sports festival, I don't think that boy changed at all." Your mother does sound truly concerned for you but everything seemed to be too much for you today.

Before you can even think of the sentences you want to say, you hear a knock on your door. You sigh, pacing towards it as you pull it open, brows furrowing in anger at the sight of your father in front of you.

"Y/n I just want a second chance-"

You yell.

You yell out your frustrations, your sadness, your hesrtsches, everything. Every single emotion you felt today just came pouring out as you yelled from the top of your lungs.

Your body falls to the floor as your limbs begin feeling like jell-o and your head begins to spin. You hear your father ordering his guards around frantically, but his words are all muffled and unclear. You begin seeing double- seeing two of your father really isn't helping right now.

"Hey, Y/n, baby keep your eyes open for me. I'll bring you to the hospital just-"

"Can all of you just shut the fuck up for a moment?" You whisper weakly before darkness swallows you up once again.

It's cold. It's dark. You're alone.

You're always alone.

[babylooneytoonz]

Where's My Baby? - Tommy Shelby X Reader

Requested by : Anon

Summary: Reader and Tommy Shelby have a young baby boy and one day, Tommy takes the baby out to the Garrison, only to end up forgetting the baby there and later, the reader is all worried and in tears and Tommy is angry at himself? They end up finding the baby in the end.

Warnings: Tommy being a lousy father | Garrison is still there | John never died | Grace and Charlie never happened |

Thank you to the creators for their lovely GIFs. These aren't mine. ❤️

"We are going to be fine, love. You need to go see your father." Tommy's index finger was tracing circles over the side of your neckline, his warm palm resting on your other shoulder squeezing it for support as he towered over you from your back, your body perched on a chair in the dining room with your eleven months old son, Daniel sleeping soundlessly on your chest.

Being a mother for the first time, you had your apprehensions leaving your baby alone with the household help, although you knew that Tommy was going to take good care of him. At first, you'd thought you would take Daniel with you to London but taking a small baby in a train, bringing him out to the world, was not something you wanted so early. There were all sorts of sicknesses going around outside and you felt that Daniel was the safest in the warmth of the Arrowe House.

"I don't know, Tom, I don't know if I can leave Daniel alone, what if he doesn't want to be fed ? Even the nanny called in sick today. What if he just doesn't stop crying? What if –"

"Love, calm down." Tommy walked up to your front and he knelt down in front of you, placing his palms on either of your knees, looking up into your moist eyes. "Daniel's going to be fine, I promise, I've asked Polly to come over for the day and she will take care of him."

You nodded, the corner of your lips ghosting into a frail yet reluctant smile. You knew he was right, there was no one other than Polly Gray who could take care of Daniel for you, and maybe, even better than you because she was much more experienced than you were. But parting with your baby was like pulling your heart out and handing it to someone else, even if it was for twenty four hours.

Also, there was the fact that you didn't have a choice. Your father, even though you were not on talking terms with him, ever since you had decided you wanted to get married to a Birmingham gangster– he was on his deathbed and he deserved to be given all the love he could from all of his family, at least when he was breathing his last, all past forgotten. You were already dressed and your tiny bag was already packed with a fresh set of clothes because you were only going to go for a day and be back tomorrow, the first train in the morning.

You let out a weak sigh when you saw Mary enter the dining room and clear her throat faintly.

"Mrs Shelby, I have packed your bag for you, is there anything else I can do? I can take the baby if you wish to?"

You shook your head at her, giving her a polite smile and sensing your reluctance, she gave you a brief curtsy and walked out. You finally stood up and carefully, placed your sleeping child in his father's arms, not failing to notice the way he beamed when he was holding his son.

"Tommy, love, make sure to lock the windows of his nursery at night."

"I know, and I will make sure I check his nappies otherwise he might develop a rash." He chuckled playfully, still looking down at the beautiful baby boy you two had created, together.

"Don't tease me." You muttered dryly, almost rolling your eyes at him as you leaned forward and gave your husband a soft kiss. "And please Tommy–" You pulled away, licking your lips, tasting the aftermath of Tommy's lips on you, "– Can you please not come home late tonight? For once, the work can be stalled. I don't want all the work to land on your poor aunt's shoulders. I'm already embarassed as it is. What the fuck must she be thinking? That's not even her child."

"Come on now, stop overthinking things, you know Pol loves the lad like her own."

That she did.

Daniel, ever since he was born, eleven months back, was the light of Polly's life – more so because she had never thought she would see the human side of Tommy Shelby. It awed her that day when she saw tears stream down her nephew's eyes when he heard his cries from the room upstairs for the first time.

"Well, I think I should stop stalling now." You sighed and finally took a step away, forcing yourself to look away. The more you would look at the angel in his arms, the more you will weaken in your resolve.

"I love you both." You whispered as you finally walked down the front steps of the Arrowe House towards the motorcar that was waiting at the doorstep to drop you to the station.

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

"What do you mean you have to leave? Come on, Pol, you can't fucking do this to me, not today. I have a potential business partner coming in to meet me at the Garrison in two hours."

Tommy shot a helpless Polly a glare of his own, his uncontrollable pacing all over the living room not coming to a halt, his hands fixed to his hips. No, this couldn't be happening to him, he had fuckin' worked hard to get this potential client to meet him for this business meeting.

"Tommy, I'm sorry, Esme needs me. She's in pain, what the fuck do you want me to do?" Polly snapped.

"Ask her to call for a fucking doctor maybe?"

"Fuck off, Thomas Shelby. You should cancel this business meeting that you have and for once, stay home and look after your own spawn." Polly spat out the words, flinching instantly at the harshness of her own words because that is now how she had meant to take out her anger.

"Fine, get out."

Polly shook her head at the stubbornness of his nephew. When was he going to learn?

"Thomas, you have to stop with this attitude. You're a father now –"

"Aren't you getting late now? I thought John's wife needed you." Tommy cut Polly off, his fingers toying with the box of cigarettes as he pulled one out and flicked it to his lips, his fingers now shuffling through his pocket to pull out the matchbox.

"You will never learn."

Shaking her head at her nephew, she grabbed her purse, swinging it over hurriedly over her shoulder, rushing out through the front door. The door slammed shut and the sound of Tommy's match lighting echoed through the air, smoke coiling around him as he stood like a stone statue in the living room, staring into the air, smoking.

It was just a business meeting, he thought to himself, and that too at the Garrison. He could always take Daniel along with him, also, the presence of a baby might even melt the old woman's heart and she might even get distracted enough to agree in doing business with him.

"Mary?" Tommy's voice rang through the halls and the housekeeper dropped the dusting she was doing at the voice of her employer and rushed out.

"Yes, Mr. Shelby?"

"Can you get Daniel ready and make sure he's dressed warm enough? I'm taking the baby out."

"Sure, Mr. Shelby." Mary kept standing there, watching Thomas leave the living room, his heavy footsteps moving away, towards his study. She frowned slightly as she made her way to the baby's nursery. Once Daniel was dressed up in something warm, she filled up his baby bag with a bottle of milk, some cloth nappies and a rattle that the baby loved playing with.

Just then, there was a knock on the door and Tommy was leaning by the doorframe, watching Mary as she zipped up the baby bag.

"Mr. Shelby, I'm sorry to ask but do you want me to come with you, to help with the baby since the Missus is not home?"

The idea appealed to Tommy. It would have been a lie to say he didn't require help with the baby. Had Daniel's nanny been here, he would have gladly accepted but he couldn't take Mary with him. For two reasons. One, he needed someone to take care of the house. Two, and the more important reason, he didn't need unwanted ears prying over his business deal. Besides, Daniel was a good baby, all he needed was to be fed once and then he fell asleep. Or, he would just play on with the rattle if he was awake.

"No thank you, Mary. You may go and resume your work."

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

If anyone was to see this hilarious sight, any gangster or any of Thomas Shelby's enemy, he would have rolled over the floor, laughing. It wasn't a daily sight that the leader of the Peaky Blinders walked into the Garrison with a stroller, the mindless babbles of a child echoing all through the quiet pub, all eyes on him. If he did feel embarassed, or flustered, he didn't show it.

The minute he entered, he pushed the stroller straight into the private room, the door banging shut. The business deal took over an hour and once done, the door opened once again and a woman with almost greying hair, her eyes like a Mohawk, stepped out, scanning the crowd with her eyes.

With the way Tommy's eyes were relaxed, his hand moving mechanically from his lips back down, a lit cigarette in his hand, it was pretty clear that the business deal had gone in his favour. He walked out with the woman to where her horse was, watching her as she left, galloping down the street like the wind, until she was nowhere in sight.

Maybe it was the stress that work actually caused him, because what followed after was something Tommy would regret for a long time.

Tommy Shelby forgot about his son and instead of going back to the private room to get the sleeping child, he mumbled something incoherent under his breath and walked out of the Garrison, smoking his cigarette. He slid into the motorcar, taking off his cap for a split second to run his hands through his matted hair, before fixing the cap back on. Turning the engine on, he slowly pulled the car onto the road and started driving back towards the Arrowe House, his baby completely forgotten.

It had been three hours since you had reached London. You had already met your father, having had a good one hour discussion with him. You were now sitting at your old home, the place where you had grown up, staring blankly at the ceiling. Your heart was getting restless, you had no idea what was going on back home and whether Tommy and Daniel were doing okay.

Finally, you stood up and huffing in frustration, you grabbed your bag, swinging it over your shoulder and rushed out of the room, running into your mother.

"Where on earth are you off to, lassie?"

"I'm going back home."

You bit your lip, your fingers toying nervously with each other. You were waiting for your mother to begin lecturing you on how you had visiting after years and now you were just going to leave but the words that exited her mouth left you in awe.

"T's okay love, I'm your mother too. I know what it feels like being miles away from your flesh and blood."

Thus, by the time Thomas Shelby was done with the business meeting at the Garrison and was driving back home, you had already stepped off the train at the Birmingham station. You pitched a ride with one of your friend's husbands who you knew worked at the station. It was a fifteen minute ride and he dropped you off at the gate.

Excited, you walked at a fast pace, towards the front door when you saw Mary dusting over a ceramic statue by the entrance. She saw you and almost gasped, not having expected for you to show up after the dark the same day you had left.

"Mrs. Shelby? Is everything alright? I thought you weren't going to back until tomorrow noon."

"I know, I know Mary, I just couldn't rest easy without Daniel. You know it's the first time I went somewhere without him–" Still talking to her, you stepped quietly into your home, the woman following you as she helped you take off your heavy coat.

"I suppose Polly must be inside eh? The house is so quiet." You looked at Mary, squinting your eyes with slight confusion.

"Mrs. Shelby, Ms. Gray had to leave early today. She had some work." Mary lowered her eyes for a split second and your eyes almost widened.

"Oh, I see. Thomas must be upstairs then? With Daniel?"

"About that, Mrs–"

You saw the woman look up at you with nervous eyes, her fingers toying with her white apron and you instantly knew something was wrong.

"Mary? Where is my husband? Is he with another woman? Oh my god, there's another woman up there, isn't it–"

You were already on your heels, storming through the hallway towards the bedrooms, the pleas of Mary falling on deaf ears.

"Mrs. Shelby, No. There's no woman. Mr. Shelby isn't home. He had a business deal to make so he took the baby along."

You stopped walking, your eyes narrowed as you turned towards her. You were furious, more so because you had thought you would find Tommy in bed with some other woman, but this revelation did not do anything to pacify you.

You clenched your eyes shut to calm yourself– it was alright, wasn't it? Of course Tommy would not have taken the baby with him if he was going somewhere that wasn't safe. You trusted your husband that much.

You had almost relaxed now and were climbing up the stairs on your way to your room when you heard the motorcar come to a halt. Tommy stepped out, shutting the door, his steps slow and dragged towards the front entrance. He placed the hand on the doorknob, twisting it until he heard a click and the door swung open.

He took of his coat, hanging it on the coat hanger by the entrance and was about to head straight to his study where he could sit and get some files sorted. You quietly made your way back downstairs only to come face to face with your husband on his way to the study. His eyes widened with surprise as he had not expected to see you.

"Love? You are back early."

You smiled softly, placing your hand on the railing as you gracefully stepped off the last stair and rushed into your husband's embrace.

"It's all fine, Papa isn't angry anymore. You tell me, where's Daniel?" You had by now wrapped your hands around his neck, but your eyes were scanning for the stroller.

It suddenly hit him.

Fuck.

Tommy's hand flew to his head, abruptly pushing you away in the act, his cap falling off, his hand grabbing a hold of his matted hair, almost tugging down on them. You kept looking at him, a horror sweeping over your face when you suddenly realized that Daniel was not with him.

"Where is my baby?!! Where's Daniel Tommy?!!"

It felt as though you didn't know who this man was – standing in front of you, his head almost hung low, his eyes clenched shut. Before you could ask him again, he had already turned on his tail and was speed walking towards the car.

"Thomas Shelby, wait! Will you fucking tell me what's going on?!" You ran along with him, trying to do anything you could to get him to answer you, grabbing his arm or blocking his way until he finally yelled at you.

"I FUCKING LEFT DANIEL AT THE GARRISON ALRIGHT? FOR FUCKS SAKE, WILL YOU MOVE OUT OF MY BLOODY WAY?"

Of course, he had left his baby at the Garrison. What kind of a father was he? You kept standing there, too numb to even react, almost leaning over the hedgerow, your eyes moist and cloudy with worry. What if something happened to Daniel? What would you do? How will you face Thomas Shelby without hating him for it? For fucks sake, you shouldn't have left. You shouldn't have gone to London. You cursed yourself.

Twenty minutes.

You kept walking around the lawn, waiting for a glimpse of your baby, to hear him babble mindlessly in your ears again when you saw the headlights of the car almost flash on your face before coming to a halt with a screech. Your husband stepped out, holding Daniel in his arm, talking to him.

"Will you forgive your daddy, love? Will you forgive me for being the bad, reckless father I have been?"

You walked up to him, your anger still pretty evident on your face and giving you one look, Tommy handed you the baby, not wanting to get into an argument he knew he couldn't win this time. You took Daniel and planted a kiss over his cheek, your tears finally spilling out.

"Mummy's sorry she left you, love. I never should have left. I should have known–" Your angry eyes shot towards your husband and he parted his lips, letting out a weak exhale.

"Love, I'm sorry, I–"

"You can sleep in any other room tonight, but you are not welcome in the bedroom. Not until you realize how you put our son in danger." You turned on your tail and cooing slightly to your son who was now playing with loose strands of your hair, tugging at them and giggling playfully, you walked into your bedroom and closed the door behind you, laying Daniel in Tommy's side of the bed.

Tommy wasn't a bad father, he had never let you feel that away ever but you didn't want him to do anything like this ever again and you knew you had to make sure he didn't. You were eventually going to forgive him, but that day wasn't today.

(I don't have a permanent tag list at the moment but I'm thinking of having one. If you want to be added, please send me message or an ask please.)

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

Hair dye and braids

For you @iamactuallya-cat . I tried my best I promise and I'm still not satisfied

It was a typical November in London, with soft raining which hasn't stopped in the past 2 days . Harry was sitting outside on his porch he had constructed, wearing a light brown sweater with a coffee and music playing on the player. He was thinking about the article in the daily prophet about Harry's new revelation by Rita Skeeter. It was only a few days ago when Harry had came out to the world despite the fact that his friends knew for the longest time that Harry was bisexual but the amount of howlers he's been getting all day was annoying to him. It disrupted his fine evening. He remembered Draco calling him the first thing in the morning

" it doesn't matter what that annoying slimy head says Harry. She doesn't know anything about you. Your friends does and that's all that matters. We still love you for who you are and you know that. She can go on about how it might've been a public stunt but Nobody thinks that Harry "

" it doesn't matter Draco. I don't care-"

" you know what you need, you need to show her in the face that it doesn't matter. You do exactly what you like. Dye your hair if you like , wear a dress if you like, paint your nails if that be it. The politics would soon die out -"

" Draco i- I need to be alone right now. Hope you don't mind " and harry cut the call with a sigh.

All his life, Harry had been someone people expected him to be and less of who he actually is. Somedays he thought it was better to just go along with the flow, be exactly what people wanted him to be to avoid people hating him more than they normally do but someday's he felt like he was too much of what people wanted him to, to the extent he kept other people's opinions first and last his own. He had understood it the hard way that no matter what happens there's always going to be people who doesn't like you. When a man like albus dumbledore he looked up to could be hated then who was he in this pitiful world.

Harry soon caught a glimpse of his reflection on the French window by his side, he saw what people wanted to see, he didn't see himself but what people made him. He frowned at his own reflection. When he looked in the mirror he didn't know who he saw, it upset him. Harry ran his hand through his hair thinking the same thing over and over until he realised he's thinking of people who isn't here with him when he's lonely. They're out there, maybe on a date, maybe enjoying a trip with their family, doing something somewhere and they weren't thinking of him. And then he realised, it was he himself who thought what people thought. It was one version of him telling him what people thinks of him when in reality nobody really cared. Nobody really even cared about someone until it was life or death. He looked out only once before he collected his coat, wore his shoes and left.

" yes I called on my way over for an appointment " Harry asked the receptionist. He gave him a charming smile Before he asked him about his name and lead the way inside.

" I think I like this one " Harry examined the magazine carefully before putting it away and nodding, that's what he wanted. He had decided and now there was no going back.

It was 3 days later when Harry was applying his perfume when he heard the door bell rang. Harry immediately went to open to door to find Draco.

" we need to get - wo- y- you look different " Draco stuttered when he finally landed his eyes upon Harry.

Harry smiled at draco and let him in.

" I went for a bit of change and I know we decided to go for black or grey but I felt like dark green suited the best with the new look but you know it almost looks black. What do you think? You think Ron and mione would like it?" Harry asked as he walked into the bedroom to check once again in the mirror .

" i- " Draco cleared his throat and spoke , gaining his voice again " I thi- I mean they won't mind. I think they'll love it " if Draco hadn't turned around Harry would've definitely seen Draco trying to contain his Infuriating blush.

" you know you still haven't told, how do you like it ?" Harry asked smirking putting on the cuffs of his sleeves.

Draco opened his mouth but only incoherent words came out. Out of surprise himself raised his eyebrows and tried again " do you want me to get you something to drink. I don't think your throat's fine Draco " Harry asked lightly grasping Draco's elbow but Draco Only closed his eyes and shook his head.

" what made you dye your hair blue ?" Draco finally asked after a few moments

" well it was actually your suggestion. You told me if I wanted to dye my hair I should do it or if I wanted to paint my nails or wear a dress , I should do it. I only went with hair dye but I'm planning on applying nail paint whenever I get a chance. I still think the dress part should be reserved, I don't think I would like it very much but I liked the hair part. Besides it's not even the entire hair, it's just the roots " Harry explained as he now sat down and started putting on the shoes.

" I didn't think -"

" that I'd actually do it. Well I didn't think I would too but guess here we are " Harry replier smiling.

" and now your braiding your hair " Draco sat down putting his hands in his face, exhaling.

" is everything alright Draco ?" He asked leaving his hair to fall out.

" i-" he cleared his throat again

" are you sure, you don't need me to get anything to drink?" He asked again

" I'm fine Harry. I think the room is a bit less ventilated. Don't you think. We should open the windows. Oh but no it's raining outside-"

" Draco " Harry held Draco's hands when he kneeled down in front of him " breathe. It's fine. I am still getting you water,okay " Harry smiled at him.

Harry soon returned to the room with a glass of water in his hand and gave it to Draco and resumed trying to braid his side. Draco remained silent for the rest of the time and watched Harry getting ready, which didn't take more than 10 minutes but Draco was sure if he opened his mouth nothing coherent would come out. He would rather stay silent than sound like a monkey trying to explain Harry how he looked.

When Harry was done, the last thing he had to do was put on his coat and when he did so he turned to Draco and raised an eyebrow asking him how he looked.

Draco inhaled then gave him a big smile " like you'll steal Every man and woman's heart "

" well there's only one heart but that also works " Harry chuckled and soon enough they left.

The more Draco looked at harry at the party, little by little he lost his sanity. The man looked perfect, beyond perfect if it were possible. The way his thick eyelashes Settled on his prominent cheekbones and they way his lips looked the perfect amount of red, the way his lips turned into a beautiful smile any time someone would say something nice , the way his green eyes reflected with the suit he was wearing, it was all beyond perfect . Draco couldn't take his eyes off Harry, he looked just like the man of his dreams but then again he already was the man of his dreams just today he couldn't contain himself even a little bit with his hair dyed light blue with braids and the Slytherin-ish green suit. How could he, Harry looked flawless. There was something so different about Harry today, he seemed confident in the way he stood, the way he carried himself and the way he had rolled up his black sleeves, it seemed so reckless yet so beautifully confident, like he didn't care about the world anymore. He remembered Harry in suit from before, the way his suit used to look lousy on him or the way they didn't cling perfectly to his body but today, everything about his body looked so put out like he was showing it off to the world, the way his pants were just so perfectly fitting and how it put out Harry's ass that he never really had a view of and the way his shirt was clinged enough to show that Harry worked out. He could list everything about Harry that looked perfect but Every time he saw him he saw a different part of him that made his heart to skip a beat. Draco wondered how had his heart had not stopped beating yet !

" you are basically eye fucking him at this point Draco " he heard pansy say following Draco's line of sight.

" how can anyone not ? Just look at him pansy. That man is way out of my league " Draco sighed and finally took his eyes off Harry, decided he had stared enough and staring was only Making all of it harder on him.

" well to be honest, for the first time potter does like someone who is out of your league. He could even woo me today and I'd gladly go along with him. Has his arse always been this delicious ?" Pansy narrowed her eyes trying to see his arse properly but Draco immediately covered her eyes with his hands.

" now a woman can't even watch porn " pansy sighed and leaned back in her chair. Blaise laughed at her comment which only made Draco groan. It was true though, eye fucking could Only go this far.

" I'd like to present a toast to my beautiful best friends" Harry had got up on the stage with a glass of champagne still looking mighty as ever.

" if I could talk about how I had to see them pining after each other for years I would but Hermione made me promise to give a sentimental speech on her engagement. So mione this one's for you. I never believed love could be found in one person but when I look at the two of you, I see the way you two look at each other, like you're each other's halves and maybe you are. If fate exists then I think you both were and will always be destined to be together. Happy engagement to my parent's cum friend's. I couldn't had done anything without you guys. I love you guys so much and no not that way Ron" he ended his speech with a raise of a glass.

" that man can talk too " pansy smirked.

" apparently he's the most eligible bachelor in the entire party, hell he might be the most eligible bachelor in entire Britain. Why does he have to be like this pansy? This way I'm never getting him even in a million years " Draco groaned as he drank his champagne again and resumed eye Fucking Harry.

Draco soon discovered that his line of Vision grew smaller and somewhat more magnified . He almost spit his drink when he realised Harry was coming towards him.

" hi pansy, Blaise and you, the man who's been staying away from me all night " Harry sat down in front of Draco smiling.

" was just gossiping about my lonely life with them and boring them " Draco told him

" well, you're not the only one. Wanna dance ?" Harry asked so causally as he tugged his suit closer to his body that Draco almost didn't catch it . He was almost confused whether he should be listening or simply looking at harry.

" what ?" Draco asked still shocked

" come on let's dance " Harry offered Draco his hand and hesitantly Draco took Harry's hands.

" you sure ?" Draco asked forgetting all about how good Harry looked but simply concerned about the way Harry just approached, knowing how it would create a Chaos soon and there would be another article about Harry.

" absolutely" and harry meant it.

When Harry and Draco reached the stage, it was a surprise how easily they had aligned without difficulty and so in a very delicately perfect way with Harry's hands rested upon Draco's waist while Draco's hands were hanging Around Harry's neck.

" it's a nice song isn't it ?" Harry asked slowly swaying to the music while looking at Draco.

" it is " Draco smiled

" how was the conversations with people ?" Draco asked not looking away from his face.

" frankly boring . I had to listen a lot about how little they knew of Ron and Hermione and someone's excitingly boring work trip . Nobody's as interesting as you " Harry shrugged his shoulders.

" oh is it so ?" Draco smirked. Harry tightened his grip around Draco's waist " yeah "

" who's your next dance ?" Draco asked. Harry looked at him intently before making Draco turn his head to the side.

" him" Draco followed Harry's line of sight almost disappointed of knowing the fact that he was on borrowed time until he saw his reflection in the mirror.

" we look good together don't we ?" Harry asked . Draco nodded biting his lower lip " yeah "

" I saved the dances for you. I was asked 5 times tonight for a dance you know " Harry told him looking in Draco's eyes.

" and why is that ?" Draco Whispered softly.

" because I wanted to do this " Harry replied looking at Draco's lips, pulling him closer so that they were almost pressed against one another " may I ?" Harry asked for consent. Only when Draco had given him a yes Harry had kissed Draco. It wasn't a rough or a hard kiss, it was sweet and passionate. It held something that would've said I've waited so long for this but there wasn't any urgency like they had all the time in the world to do it again. Harry's had slowly unconsciously tightening around Draco's back and Draco's hands resting upon Harry's neck. All those years of pining after each other Harry and Draco had finally Poured out everything in that one kiss. All those weeks of waiting to make a move on another only to be left with disappointment, all those times of watching each other from a distance , all those moments of waiting for the right moment had finally paid off.

" you can kiss too potter" Draco said teasingly as they separated from the kiss, pressing their foreheads together.

" I can do a lot of things malfoy. Maybe tonight you could see a few of them" Harry smugly replied but before Draco could've said anything else, Harry had kissed him again. This time with much more passion than before.

" get a room " Blaise yelled from behind them leaving them startled.

" we might zabini " Harry winked at Blaise..

" you want to leave early ?" Harry asked when he turned to Draco still breathless from all the kissing.

" only if I get to touch your hair " Draco smirked

" who do you think I did the braid and hair dye for " Harry asked him mischievously.

Harry realised in all his time with Draco that the world didn't matter anymore, what people thought of him didn't matter anymore as long as he knew the one man he wanted loved him just right. For there can be no love without hate , he settled with the one man he had once hated. Maybe sometimes hatred can turn into love and sometimes not and harry was perfectly fine either way.

Side prompts I've worked on - habits of my heart

Requests open for this

[myhockeyworld87]

Ruined - Jamie Benn - Part 5

Word Count: 5,690

POV: Reader and then switches to Jamie

Warnings: Language, but that’s about it, at least from what I can remember

Notes: So I just want to thank everyone for their patience with me as I took some time off. I’ve still been writing, so hopefully you’ll see your favorite stories pop up here and there. Happy reading!

Sidenote: Also (Y/NN) = Your Nickname (Y/LN) = Your Last Name

READER'S POV

 "I'm sorry what did you just say?" you asked Emma, as you had to have heard her incorrectly when she said that you should get under someone in order to get over Jamie. "Because, you were there in high school, that didn't work out the best for me."

"That's not what I meant."

 "But it is what you said, that I should just go hook up with some random guy. Em, I love you, babe, but I am not going down that path again. I do not need to be known as the doctor that sleeps around."

 "Oh my god, would you shut up for one minute?" You went radio silent, after she practically yelled at you through the phone, though you suppose that your voice had gone up maybe a decibel or two. "I didn't mean for you to go fuck some rando at the bar. Actually, I meant…and hear me out before you say anything," she paused and you had a feeling that you weren't going to like what she said next no matter what it was. "I think you should sleep with Jamie."

 "WHAT!?!"

 "Yeah, that was a little loud. I think you might have woken up Caleb. Shh, go back to sleep babe," you heard her mumble to her husband.

 "I'm sorry but are you crazy? Maybe I called you too early and you're not fully functioning without coffee. Or should I call Dr. Kaplan and have him examine you."

 "Your neurologist, friend? No." She sounded a bit indignant at the mention that she needed her brain examined for suggesting a thing, but really what were you supposed to think when she made stupid remarks like you should go sleep with Jamie. "I asked you to listen before you passed judgment on me. God, you think you were a judge instead of a doctor so something."

 "Well, you have my full attention. So please explain, before I have you committed to the psych ward." She scoffed at you, which only made you say, "You know I can medically do that."

 You could almost hear her eyes rolling through the phone. "Yes, but who would you call this early in the morning when you have a problem." She had a point. "Exactly. Now, let me explain. You and Jamie never really resolved anything. He said things, you got upset, he never answered the phone, so you broke it off with him, yadda, yadda, yadda. You get my point." It seemed a whole lot more complicated than a few yaddas. "But there was never any closure for either of you there. It just sort of ended." Emma was right about that, after hearing that he only was seeing you for sex, you didn't want to speak to him at all. "It was obvious then, that he still had feelings for you, even if you didn't want to see it. And don't kill me here, but I think it was obvious that you still had feelings for him as well, and that maybe you still do." You didn't exactly know how you felt about Jamie at the moment, but waking up in his arms did feel right. "Let's face it (Y/N), you've compared every guy you've ever been with to Jamie."

 "I have not." Had you?

 "Ok, we're skipping all the douches in high school, because you and I both know you never slept with any of them. Yes, I know what everyone said, but I was also your best friend and I know you. The worst you ever did was give Carter Williams a blow job behind the bleachers after a football game." Oh, Jesus, she did not need to go down this road listing all your sexcapades from high school or after that. "I'm talking about Bryan, the perfectly good looking, studying to be a heart surgeon, boyfriend that you gave up for no other reason then you said he wasn't tall enough."

 "I did not break up with Bryan because he wasn't tall enough and you know it."

 "It was a factor, along with his hair not being dark enough and you hating his sense of humor."

 "The man made stupid heart surgeon jokes that not even anyone in the cardiothoracic department got."

 "True, but you also told me he was lousy in bed, and I believe that was another complaint you had about Tomas, Dylan…oh and what was his name…you know the one you said that you had to use your vibrator the minute he walked out the door because he couldn't get you off."

 "Isaac," you told her and there was a blush creeping to your cheeks. Suddenly, you were regretting Emma being your best friend.

 "Yes, Isaac. If I remember correctly that happened more than once with him. How you kept him around for four months is beyond me. You're a doctor woman, you can show him where the clit is, you know? Just take his hand and place it…"

 "Thank you, Dr. Emma, I know where my clit is."

 "But he didn't," she let out a bark of laughter that was so contagious you had to join in. Once you both calmed, Emma came right back at you about Jamie. "Look, he was your first love and maybe the sex wasn't as great as your sixteen-year-old mind remembers. Maybe you just fuck Jamie and that's all it is, a fuck, or maybe it's more. At least this way, you won't be holding him on some pedestal like he's a Greek god or something."

 Maybe she was right and you'd been holding on for fourteen years thinking that what you and Jamie had was this truly magical once and a lifetime thing when in reality all it had been was sex. Let's face it, what your sixteen-year-old self thought was love could've been nothing more than lust. "I never thought he was a Greek god."

 "Please, I was always envious about how you had this romantic first time. I mean mine was in the back of Kyle's jeep, and before you say anything he didn't know where the clit was either."

 You both giggled again, but then you had to remind her of how things had ended. "It wasn't romantic when he said those things about me."

 "He was sixteen (Y/N). I'm not making an excuse, but it's time to build that bridge. Maybe he's changed, maybe he hasn't. I'm not saying for you to give him your whole heart. I'm just saying, find out if what was there, was truly that once in a lifetime love or was it just this idea that you've been holding on to."

 "But what if…" you stuttered while Emma waited for you to continue. "What if…I still love him, and he breaks my heart, again."

 "(Y/N), that's the chance we all take when we open our hearts to love. You don't think that I felt that way with Caleb? That sometimes I still don't feel that way." She sighed. You could tell she was struggling with how to put her feelings into words. "He could walk out the door and leave me here alone, and my heart would break into pieces, but the love I have for him is so much greater than that fear." She made it sound so easy, but all you could remember was how completely hurt you'd felt when things had gone wrong with Jamie. "I know you're scared, and that's why you've closed your heart off for so long, but (Y/N) I promise you the minute you open it back up, your life is going to be even better than it is. And maybe it's Jamie that deserves your heart and maybe it's not, but you'll never know if you don't try."

 "I know," you whispered weakly, for you really did know that. If it wasn't Jamie, it was going to have to be someone eventually, because you didn't want to be alone forever. It was just that gnawing fear in the back of your mind that Jamie would hurt you again as he had before. "I just don't want to break into a thousand pieces again."

 "You won't (Y/N), and if you do, I'll be on the first flight to Dallas to help you pick them up." She would be, you knew that for sure because you couldn't ask for a better friend than Emma. "And I'll kick his ass as well." That made you laugh considering that Emma was five foot four, and Jamie was just over six foot. It would make for an interesting matchup, but you knew that Emma would take him down no matter the size difference.

 "Thanks, Em."

 "I just want you to be happy, (Y/NN); happy and in love, and I just have this gut feeling that Jamie can make that happen." There was only one way to find out, and that was to open up more to Jamie. It wouldn't be easy but after this little talk, you were willing to try. "Now, enough about this, because you're going to follow my advice. So tell me how everything else is going? Do you like work? Is it everything you thought it would be?"

 "And so much more." You spent the next fifteen minutes catching up with each other before she kicked you off the phone to go make rounds at the hospital. Despite not having that many patients of your own at the moment, you were still looking after all of Dr. Lundin's. It was about three o'clock in the afternoon when your phone rang, Jamie's name popping up on the screen. For a minute, you thought about not answering it, but then you remembered your conversation this morning with Emma and quickly hit the accept button. "Hey, Jame."

 He seemed a bit startled that you answered. "Oh, hey (Y/NN). I was just giving you a call about a couple things."

 "Ok, what's up?"

 "Well, first off, I found your dress in my bathroom this morning."

 "Oh shit, I totally forgot that I left it in there." You'd laid it over the tub last night when you changed, something that you did at home all the time. You had every intention of picking it up before you left, but then you'd fallen asleep and well, it kind of got lost in your mind as you freaked out over possibly having feelings for Jamie.

 "It's no biggie. I hung it up in my closet." He paused as if he'd said something wrong. "Just so it didn't wrinkle anymore." Well, look at him being all domesticated.

 "Thanks, that's sweet of you. I'll stop over and get it sometime from you."

 "Oh, ok or I can bring it over. Whatever is easiest for you. I also wanted to see if there was a good time to reschedule that visit to the AAC? We kind of didn't get to go over my map too much last night. Plus, my artistic skills are a little rusty."

 You'd forgotten all about the tour, but it would be a good excuse to spend some more time with Jamie to see where your feelings were. "Let me check my schedule." You switched him to speaker and flipped over to your calendar. "Oh, I'm headed to Jessi's tomorrow night to take her stitches out, so that won't work. Um, let me see about the next day."

 "What about tonight?"

 "Oh, tonight?" You weren't sure if you were ready to face him just yet, but a little voice, that sounded an awful lot like your best friend, told you there was no time like the present. "Yeah, I can do that. I was just getting ready to leave here in about ten minutes. What time were you thinking?"

 "Whenever I'm free the rest of today, so if you just wanted to come straight here; that's fine."

 This was really not the timeframe you wanted. You hadn't even taken any time this morning to do anything special with your hair or makeup, as you'd spent too much time talking to Emma. Though it wasn't like Jamie hadn't just seen you with drool on your face, wearing his sweats and your hair a complete disaster. Anything would be an improvement over that. It was that thought that had you saying, "Sounds good. I'll see you in about twenty minutes then."

 "Ok see you soon." You hung up and then quickly went to add at least a bit of lip gloss and mascara to your face.

 It was about twenty minutes later that you were pulling into your garage and then walking the short distance to Jamie's. This time foregoing parking at his place. He opened the door before you even had a chance to knock. "Hey, (Y/N). How's it going tonight?"

 It seemed like a loaded question when he was standing there dressed in a pristine white dress shirt, his chest hair peeking out from where he'd undone the first couple buttons. Suddenly, your mouth went dry. When you were sixteen, Jamie didn't have a hair on his chest. Well, maybe there were one or two that he was awfully proud of, but they really didn't count. This was just another sign of how much he'd changed and grown into the man that stood before you today. You'd hoped he'd changed in other ways as well. "Much better tonight. My feet are all ready for you to give me the grand tour."

 "Alright, then let's head out." He had his car in the garage, so you followed him through the house to the SUV. In true Jamie Benn fashion, he came over and opened the door for you. It was something he'd always done when you were younger, as his mom had instilled those gentlemanly courtesies in him. It was weird being in the car with him again. Part of you kept waiting for him to grab your hand and hold it like he used to and you found yourself glancing down every so often at his large fingers gripping the gearshift instead of your hand.

 He pointed out different landmarks as you passed and told you that despite what the navigation system said this was the fastest way to get to downtown from your house. The two of you chatted the whole entire time, while the music played softly in the background. "So, you're going to want to use this gate." Jamie was saying right as his playlist changed to a song from the movie Frozen.

 "So, are you are an Anna or an Elsa fan?" you teased.

 "What?" It was then that he realized what was playing, and quickly changed the song. "I have that on here for my niece."

 He pulled into the players' parking spot, "Uh huh, sure Jame. Admit it you like the movie." He shut the car off and you both got out.

 "I may have watched it with Soph once," he said sheepishly and your heart warmed at the idea of him sitting there with the little girl watching one of Disney's hit movies. You always knew that he would make a great dad, and having that song just proved it.

 You were walking side by side now and you couldn't resist dancing around him, while you sang the lyrics. "Let it go, let it go, can't hold it back anymore." You were walking backward not having a clue where you were going as you continued. "Come on Jame, sing with me. You know you want to…Let it go, let it go, turn away and slam the door."

 "Stop," he chided but had a grin a mile long on his face.

 You twirled around him another time, hands dancing along his arm. "I don't care what they're going to say," you belted out; the words echoing off the cement walls around you. "Let the storm rage on…"

 "The cold never bothered me anyway." Jamie sang finally joining you. You bouncing up and down as he sang with you, not paying attention as your eyes were focused on him and not where you were going. He reached out and grabbed you right as you started to trip on a large cord that was behind you. "Careful there Elsa." Your hands went to his chest, your palm resting where his heart was racing, as his slid around your waist and pulled you in close to him. Pressed up against him, you couldn't help the urge that came over you to kiss him; he was just so close, and his eyes were smiling into yours, and it felt like the perfect moment to test the waters out. So, you slid your hands just a little further up his chest, and you raised up on your tiptoes so that your lips were mere inches from him, and then your watch chimed again; the damn thing reminding you to breathe, and the moment was lost.

 You dropped back down onto the balls of your feet but still kept that smile plastered on your face. "Thanks for saving me Olaf," you said and tapped his chest, before stepping out of his embrace.

 "Olaf? I was thinking more Kristoff."

 You tapped your finger on your chin, looking him up and down. "You're right, I was wrong. You're definitely Sven."

 "The reindeer?"

 "I knew you've watched that movie more than just once with your niece."

 You were finally at the door, and Jamie was entering a code to get into the building since there wasn't anything going on at the AAC today. "Ok, you got me, but really Sven?"

 "What's wrong with Sven? He's sweet, kind, lovable…" Shit the moment the word came out of your mouth you wanted to take it back. Of course, Jamie was lovable too but you weren't sure you were ready to be the one loving him. There was too much uncertainty in doing that just yet. You coughed trying to cover up the slip of tongue and then added, "He's also oddly quiet when there are people around. Kind of like someone else I know."

 He raked his hand through his hair, an action that your fingers longed to do. "I'm only that way around people I don't know…and the media." You knew this about him, of course, because you'd watched a few of his interviews. His answers were always clipped and short, which sometimes gave the impression he was standoffish, but then he would throw a little comment here and there and the real Jamie would come out. "But anyhow, we should be getting on with the tour."

 "Lead the way."

  JAMIE'S POV

 Had she really just called you lovable? Moreover, had she just been about to kiss you? That damn watch of hers kept beeping at the most inappropriate times and it was maddening. Something had changed since she'd practically run out of your house this morning. You weren't sure what, but she'd definitely let her guard down some, and you were all for it. You knew it was going to take baby steps to get back into her heart, but those steps seemed to be coming more and more frequently and you weren't complaining.

 You were surprised when (Y/N) agreed to the tour tonight, for you thought for sure that she'd avoid you at all cost after you had fallen asleep with her on the sofa last night. It was the last thing that you intended but she had felt so right in your arms, that you'd just let yourself get caught up in the moment. God, she looked so adorable this morning, hair messy, with her cheeks all rosy from sleeping on you, and then how she was wearing your sweats; there was nothing that you wanted more than to see her like that every day for the rest of your life. Baby steps, you reminded yourself.

 The tour around the arena went pretty well. You showed her everything that you could think of, ending the tour in the training room, just as you had the other day. She was taking everything in, noticing that Dave and his crew had implemented all the ideas she had talked about the other day. "Everything look ok?"

 "Oh yeah, they did an amazing job." She was opening drawers and checking supplies.

 "Well, I guess that's the end of the tour then." You glanced down at your watch to notice that it was almost six o'clock. You were definitely going to hit rush hour traffic. "If we head out now, it'll probably take us an hour to get home. Maybe a little less, if I hurry."

 "Oh, do you have to be some place?"

 "Um…no. Why?"

 "Well, you're all dressed up, thought maybe you had a hot date or something." There was a tremble in her voice that usually wasn't there, and you had to wonder if she asked the question in hopes that you weren't seeing anyone.

 "No, no hot date. I actually…" Shit, now it was your turn to get all tongue-tied. "Well, I mean…I thought we could have dinner downtown here and really celebrate your big surgery."

 "Oh!" There was a bit of shock in her voice. "I mean last night was perfect. You don't have to take me to dinner, after everything you did."

 You raked your hands through your hair again. It was a bad nervous habit, that served as a distraction while you tried to think of something to say. This time there was nothing clever that came to mind. "What if I want to take you to dinner?"

 The corner of her lip picked up on the right side of her face, that was the first sign she gave, telling you that she liked the idea. It got you excited that she might just agree, to the plan you had, but then it seemed like she was getting into her head, as she took a moment to think about your offer. "You know what?" It wasn't really a question, so you remained quiet. "Dinner sounds amazing, but only on one condition." You cocked a brow at her, silently asking what that was. "I get to buy."

 "Oh no, I asked you out." Oh shit, that came out wrong, you didn't mean it to sound like you'd asked her out on a date, that for sure would scare her away. "Besides my mom would kill me if she found out I let you pay," you quickly added hoping that it would cover up your blunder.

 "Hmm," she mused. "I guess we'll just have to see who has the quicker hands when the check comes then." That sure sounded like a yes to you.

 "You're on, but I plan on winning."

 "We'll see," she said as she headed out the door of the training room. "Now, let me see if I can remember how to get out of here." She led the way out to the car and you only had to direct her one time, which was pretty good considering it took you a week to find your way around the place.

 The restaurant was one of the finest Dallas had to offer, and one of the main reasons why you didn't want (Y/N) paying, though you were sure that wouldn't deter her from trying. Being that you weren't sure if (Y/N) was going to say yes to dinner, you didn't have a reservation, though when you slipped the maître d a hundred-dollar bill and your name; you were suddenly shown the nicest table in the place, one that was quiet and out of the way. Conversation between you and (Y/N) flowed easily, as did the wine, though you made sure not to drink too much as you'd be driving the two of you home. It also helped you grab the check when the waiter brought it at the end of the night.

 "That's not fair." (Y/N) chided as your long arms reached out and snagged the leather pouch out of the man's hands, who looked a bit taken back by the action.

 "You said whoever had the fastest hands."

 "Yes, but I clearly had more wine than you, which limited my ability, and now I'm convinced you did that on purpose." She was always so adorable when she pouted, but right now you just wanted to kiss those pursed lips and you were having a hard time holding yourself back from doing just that.

 "One of us needed to drive home, but you didn't protest when I poured that last glass."

 "Well, it clearly didn't help my motor skills that's for sure. Though please mark it down, that I am paying next time." Next time? So, she planned on going out with you again. You were making more headway than you thought.

 You decided to forge ahead while she was in such a good mood, as you were coming close to running out of excuses for the two of you to get together. "And when would this next time be?"

 "Um, I'll have to check my schedule, but maybe I could cook you dinner next week. You know as maybe a thank you for helping me." She sat there across from you with this shy little smile playing across her lips. The look all too tantalizing, for it was doing things that it shouldn't to your nether regions.

 "Dinner at your place huh? Sounds like an offer I can't refuse." You paid the bill and then the two of you headed out. The drive back was fun, as the two of you continued with your flirtatious banter the whole way home. When you turned onto your street, disappointment reared its ugly head as the night was coming to an end. You wanted to spend more time with her. Hell, if you were being realistic you want her to fall asleep in your arms again so you could hold her all night long. You pulled into the garage, then got out of the car to help (Y/N) out.

 "Thanks for everything today, Jame. Including dinner which I was supposed to pay for."

 "You know I can run some drills with you to sharpen your hand-eye coordination if you want." There were also some other drills you'd like to be doing with her in the bedroom.

 "Well, I may just take you up on that." The two of you were standing in the driveway, not knowing how to end the night. If this was truly a date, you'd walk her home and maybe kiss her, but would she smack you if you tried that now? "I should be getting home. Thanks again for everything." She started down the drive, walking at a leisurely pace.

 "Hey (Y/NN)," you called out and she turned back towards you as you trotted up beside her. "Can I walk you home?" She gave you a curious look, and it did sound rather funny considering she lived only two doors down, but you weren't ready for your time with her to end just yet.

 You were just about to stumble through how it was just for safety, when she said, "Sure." You smiled at her and the two of you started the extremely short walk to her house. "You know, tonight was a lot of fun."

 "Yeah, it really was." You wanted to say it reminded you of old times, but you didn't want to bring up the bad ones that also went with that. "We should do it more often."

 "I'd like that." (Y/N) was shocking you at every turn tonight and you weren't sure what mystical force was in the air but you prayed that it didn't go away and make her hate you again. A comfortable silence fell over you both, it was one that you had with her long ago, though back then it was as if you could read each other thoughts. Now, you weren't sure what was going on in that complex mind of hers but if it continued to lead her on a path towards you; you weren't going to question it.

 You were just about to her front door, and damn if that didn't feel as if the two of you were speed walking over, even though you were strolling at a leisurely pace. Again, you searched for something so that you wouldn't have to leave her company just yet. "Hey, how's your patient doing? The one who's leg you saved."

 "Really great actually. I stopped in right before I left. He's got a long road ahead of him, but he was in really good spirits today."

 "All because of you."

 "I wouldn't go that far."

 "I would." She blushed at the compliment, as you finally made it to the front door.

 "Well, this is me." She said with a cute little smile and a shrug of her shoulder.

 There was really nothing more you could say to keep you at her front door, so you found yourself saying, "I guess my duty is fulfilled…now that you're safe at home and all."

 "So it seems." Was that a hint of reluctance you heard in her voice? Was she as sad to see the night end as you were? "Thanks again, Jame. It was fun." She entered the code to get in the house, unlocking the door and opening it. What she did next almost had you falling over, as she went up on her toes and placed a chaste kiss on your cheek. "Goodnight, Jame."

 A smile so bright, it could've lit up all of Dallas, appeared on your face, and she ducked inside right as you said. "Goodnight, (Y/NN)." As soon as the door closed, you pressed a hand to your cheek making sure that what had just happened was real and not something that you imagined. It had been real alright, and you felt like you were fifteen again, all giddy at the thought that the girl you liked, liked you back.

 Thank goodness, you only lived two doors down as you don't remember how you got back inside your own home, but there you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror grinning like a fool as you looked at the spot (Y/N) had just kissed. Now more than ever, you couldn't wait to see her again. Unfortunately, you had no excuse to call her this time or no definite date of when you'd see her again, just a promise that the two of you would have dinner again soon. While you looked forward to that, you wished that it would be happening sooner rather than later. You'd just have to come up with a plan.

 It seemed fate had your back this time though, as the following evening found her knocking on your door. "I hate to do this, but can I come in?" (Y/N) asked as she stood outside in the pouring rain, looking like a drowned rat. Well, maybe not a rat, but a very cute wet puppy for sure.

 "Yeah, sure." You said stepping aside as a loud crack of thunder sounded in the air.

 "I'm sorry to do this, but the code to the house isn't working and I left my phone, and my bag, at Jessi's when I was taking out her stitches." She stood there dripping wet in your foyer. "If I could just use your phone to call her, I'll run back over there."

 "Run? Where's your car?"

 "Locked, in the garage. I didn't realize it was going to storm and had just walked over there. I was almost home when it started."

 "Let me grab you a towel." You went and grabbed one out of the guest bathroom downstairs, then handed it to her to dry off. "I'll call Jess for you, but you're not running back over there. I'll drive you."

 She gave you a smile, before toweling off her hair. "Thank you."

 You went to the kitchen to grab your phone and call your soon to be sister-in-law. "Hey, Jess."

 "Hey, Chubbs, what's up?" Jess replied.

 "(Y/N) locked herself out of the house and I guess she left her stuff at your place. I was going to drive her over so she could get it if that's ok."

 There was silence on the other end of the phone and you were wondering if the two of you got disconnected or something with the storm. "Hmmm," she finally mumbled. "I'm going to do you a huge favor here and tell you I'm not home, even though I totally am."

 "What?"

 "You know I love you, but you're so dense sometimes." How were you the one that was dumb when she didn't make any sense? "Tell (Y/N) that I had to run to a friend's house and you're not sure when I'll be home with the storm. That way the two of you can spend a little more time together."

 "Oh," you said as you finally caught on to her plan.

 "You owe me one. Tell her I'll call you when I get back, which probably won't be for a while." You'd take all the time that you could get with (Y/N). "If you don't answer, I'll take that as a good sign." You could almost see her winking at you through the phone.

 "Thank Jess. You're literally the best."

 "I know," she quipped back, then hung up the phone.

 You went back out to where (Y/N) was standing in your entryway. "Apparently, Jess took off to a friend's house the minute you left. She said she's didn't realize you left your stuff or she would've dropped it off. She's going to call when she gets back, but it's going to be a bit with the storm."

 "Oh," (Y/N) stood there a little shocked, not knowing what to do. "Well, maybe if I go try the code again it will work."

 Another crack of thunder, with streaks of lightning, filled the sky. "(Y/N), you are not going back over there in the rain. Just stay here until the storm dies down. They usually pass pretty quick." But then again, sometimes they didn't and this was one you were hoping would stick around for at least a few more hours.

[iamnightduchess]

Hi Queen ❤

I love your headcanons so much and I don’t know if you’ve ever done one of these, but I’d really like to imagine what it would be like if Mikasa and Reiner fell in love after the end of the manga, what this discovery would be like and how they would deal with this!

(Forgive me for my lousy english hahaha)

Hello dear, thank you for the Ask! 💖 It really helps me to envision a more ideal post-ending universe because the potential ending right now does not look promising that both of them will somehow survive (together) because I am foreseeing one of them voluntarily dies to save another person. I hope i'm wrong! 😢 I've only done a tiny snippet of ReiKasa in this Post-Rumbling HC AU. But, here's what I envision how it could possibly be IF they survive & they happen:

Reiner x Mikasa (ReiKasa) Post-Rumbling AU (Gen) Headcanon #16

Before we delve into Post-Rumbling period, it's interesting to observe the tiny moments where the seeds of trust and possibly, love between these two former enemies turned allies might have possibly begun sprouting.

The Rumbling

We've seen the way Reiner had implied on the plane in ch.133, how Eren might want to be stopped by someone. Reiner was using himself as a pretext; an example. If HE was the one with the FT & somehow finding himself unable to control it, he'd want to be stopped by someone he knows is capable of doing so (someone more powerful & stronger than he is) When he said that sentence, he was gazing at Mikasa.

There are 2 implications here, i) He is indirectly admitting in front of everyone that Mikasa is his weakness, like a failsafe. The one he knows who can take him down if he's the one with this enormous power & he's losing control, ii) Because to him, ever since they were younger, Eren is her family & a sensitive subject to her. Him voicing out his opinion and indirectly hinting that Eren is beyond the path of no return will hurt Mikasa's feelings & emotional state.

During the Paths Intermission, the moment Eren basically told the alliance to go fuck themselves, that he will keep moving forward for his freedom, while the alliance members are free to fight him if that is what they want; Reiner was horrified to know that Eren basically confirmed his deduction & how much pain and devastation Mikasa would be in upon receiving the awful truth from Eren himself. Even after pleading to Eren to let her share the burden of his sins, which as direct as it could have been to "I don't want to be so far from you. I want to be with you through both light & darkness inside of you. Please come back to us." Mikasa still believed that the previous Eren that she knew is still there somewhere, which is no longer the case.

The shock-induced tears in Mikasa's eyes - seeing her in pain, hurts Reiner too. He'd knew how heartbroken she would be.

In Ch.135, when everyone was on the verge of dying as they're losing the battle with the raised forms of past titan shifters, Mikasa reached her breaking point & Reiner felt helpless, because he was at his last limit & Mikasa was planning to make herself the primary target just to buy the rest a little bit more time.

There's this woman who's fighting towards an expected death in front of him - any man would be an idiot for not seeing how foolish yet selfless and brave this last female warrior of Paradis was. She's always been a fearless woman who has their backs and protects their fronts. He has never stopped respecting this woman. This might have been the starting point for that seed to have sprouted inside Reiner.

If Annie's timely rescue never came and they truly met their end there, the only regret Reiner has was he couldn't do anything else but watch this woman's final moments without being able to do anything to support her before his own ensuing end.

When Levi, Jean and Connie all collectively & firmly agrees that killing Eren is the only thing that stands between the world's survival, Reiner was silent the whole time. He believed he has no right to say anything, but he saw the vulnerable look on her face the moment Jean reiterated their ultimatum: "We need to kill Eren."

Reiner did what he does best: he took charge. When Reiner told her, "You go help Armin." He was indirectly telling her, "You do what you can. I will shoulder your burden with Jean. Let me be the strength for you to do what needs to be done." This was Reiner's way of telling her, he will carry her burden for her and shelter her from an unbearable pain. Just like how she told Eren much earlier in Paths. Reiner's indirectly telling Mikasa that she's important to him too.

This was the moment that the seed had sprouted within her heart. She realized that Reiner's communicating to her in the way only she would understand. How much she feels for Eren, Reiner feels for her in the same way because you can't give a reason why you care for or love someone. You just do. It just happened without signs. Annie, however, was able to catch that short but impactful interchange between them.

Post-Rumbling

They barely survive the last stand against Eren's final form but they did with Ymir's divine intervention in Humanity's New Dawn.

Reiner sustains extremely heavy injuries on his physical body. Mikasa is emotionally & psychologically affected by Eren's true death.

The remaining humanity struggles to rebuild from the ashes of destruction. It was beyond devastation. The world is almost completely annihilated but hope is a powerful energy. Hope persists.

Reiner sees her grieving - like a pair of wheels suspended in motion - trapped while the rest of the world moves around her. She refuses to eat, she barely sleeps but when she does, she would toss and turn around restlessly. Annie tells him in passing that when Mikasa sleeps, her body contorts and freezes simultaneously like she's in a lot of pain.

Seeing her drifting through the days like a soulless vessel pains him a lot. No one could humanly survived what she had to go through without serious ramifications towards her emotional and psychological state. Mikasa becomes withdrawn and sullen.

Yet, he retains his distance like he always does & watch silently from the sides as Annie, Armin & Jean tried to reach out to her to no avail. Reiner himself is haunted by his failed attempt to hold the Founder's original form down that, in a way, had forced Mikasa to do what needs to be done. He feels responsible that he couldn't prevent her from having to go through those painful yet pivotal moments of securing humanity's survival. The day the alliance managed to save the world, well, the world that she built for Eren inside her heart was destroyed in return.

One day, she mysteriously disappears without trace. A panicking Armin searches on his own but Annie tells Reiner that Mikasa's missing, nowhere to be found. Reiner and Armin later found her at the crater where Eren's last resting place had been. The exact same location where she had to slay him with her own two blades.

Mikasa says that she just feels lost and empty. Like there's a huge dark void inside her body that she can't escape from. She just sits there amongst the dust and debris, staring blankly at a makeshift, unmarked grave. She confides that she's terrified of falling asleep because she sees Eren's face in her nightmares.

Armin wants to console her but Annie holds him back as she notices Reiner already making his way forward and settles himself next to her. Armin understands what Annie was trying to do.

Reiner only tells Mikasa, "You don't have to do this alone...Lean on us." He offers his hand, despite knowing she wouldn't even touch him. "When you feel that you can no longer breathe, I'll breathe for you. If you feel like you're drifting, I will hold you."

It takes her a while but she accepts his hand and he holds it tight in his. Reassuring her that he is here to stay for as long as she needs him to be.

Little either of them know that it would possibly be forever.

It is Annie who helps to bridge these two together with Armin's help.

Ever since the day they talked, Mikasa slowly finds herself regaining an ounce of strength. Reiner talks a lot to her and offers his silent company as they go for walks together so she does not feel alone.

Reiner makes sure that he'll check in with Mikasa from time to time when he's not supporting the remaining forces with rebuilding, too frequent not to be noticed by everyone close to them in the survivor's settlement. However, none of them questions him about it. It is an understood, unspoken notion that Reiner cares a lot about Mikasa, and her for him eventhough she's being subtle about it. Armin could see Mikasa's eyes lit up whenever Reiner is nearby.

Mikasa shares a living space with Annie and Pieck. When her night terrors get too much that Mikasa thrashes around, screaming in pain despite being in a deep sleep, the two former shifters know that they couldn't possibly restrain the Ackerman girl physically on their own. They called for Armin, Jean and Reiner for help. When Armin and Jean hesitate to hold her down, it is Reiner who holds her tight even when Mikasa's unconsciously trying to struggle against him. They could see Reiner's face holding back his own physical pain from fighting against the immense resistance coming from her. But he'd never released his hold until she eventually wakes up and calms down. He stayed with her until the break of dawn.

After that night, however, Reiner seems to be pulling himself away from Mikasa as he couldn't get over his guilt and his helplessnesss as he also didn't want Mikasa to think that he's trying to take advantage of her vulnerability. The problem is, when he avoids Mikasa, she reverts back to the darkness she's slowly overcoming with Reiner's help and he's becoming miserable himself.

This frustrates Armin, Annie, Jean, Levi and even Pieck because it was fairly obvious to everyone but the two people in question that both Reiner and Mikasa are self-sabotaging and self-punishing themselves from pursuing something more than friendship despite their beating hearts calling out for each other.

Mikasa feels she's betraying her memories of Eren and she's afraid of moving on lest she would forget about him. Reiner feels he has no right to offer Mikasa anything more than friendship because she deserves someone better than him.

Mother's Intuition

Reiner's mother, Karina, finds herself naturally drawn to this young woman who seems to have her son's attention, even when he's trying very hard not to be obvious about it. She catches Reiner staring (longingly, she dare say) at the female warrior of Paradis from afar.

Apart from Mr. Leonhardt's daughter, she too, helps to bring her son and Mikasa closer. Karina has witnessed this woman's bravery and have heard from both Gabi and Reiner of her selflessness when she had saved both her son and her niece's lives. Through Reiner's story, Karina sympathizes with the pain this young woman is going through.

Reiner tells her that he feels helpless that he isn't able to help Mikasa and that she hasn't been eating well. Therefore, Karina brings her homemade meal and visits the young woman, wanting to get to know her better. Mikasa doesn't want to be impolite and relents to having the sudden company.

However, the moment Karina holds her hands to offer her comfort, Mikasa breaks down. She had lost 3 mothers/maternal figures in her life: her own, Carla & Hange. For some odd reason, she feels grateful to have an opportunity to be held by a mother again, even if it wasn't her own.

Karina finds herself growing fond of this young woman and deep inside believes that Mikasa and her son are meant for each other.

It is Karina who advises Reiner to fight for his own happiness and her mother's intuition tells her that his feelings isn't as one-sided as he thinks. Karina urges her son to tell Mikasa how he really feels and after all the years of fighting wars for Marley, Reiner needs to fight one last war: the one within his own heart and to win the heart of the one woman who had conquered his.

However, the relief entourage that arrives from Hizuru, led by Kiyomi Azumabito prevents him from telling Mikasa how he truly feels. He knows that she is destined to become the new empress of Hizuru and that her future would be brighter without him being in her way.

Mikasa tells him of her decision to ascend the imperial throne and Reiner feigns happiness for her decision, reassuring her that she will make a great empress and that she would have a better future there. Mikasa takes Reiner's words as him indirectly telling her to move on with her life without him in it.

Reluctantly, Mikasa leaves for Hizuru. Karina is upset that her son is still sacrificing himself & his own feelings even after being relieved of his Titan powers and its curse.

Karina tells him, "You've lived your life for me and for our family, Reiner. Now it's time for you to live for yourself."

Reiner thinks he's lost the only chance he still has left as Mikasa is already en route to the East Sea country. It is Armin who tells him that the Azumabito's ship is still docked at the nearest harbor because Armin has suspicions that Reiner will change his mind.

When Reiner, Armin, Jean and Annie reach the harbor, the sun is almost setting and Reiner finally revives his dwindling courage to tell her how he truly feels about her and he would like to remain by her side if she'd allow it.

Kiyomi forewarns Reiner that if he is serious about her kin, then he would have to sacrifice his newly-found freedom from being a soldier and titan shifter to become prince consort to their new imperial monarch.

Reiner only says, "I am as good as dead without Mikasa and my freedom means nothing if I'm spending the rest of my life without her."

In the sunset of the New World built from ashes, the two young loves finally seize the courage to pledge their hearts to one another with a kiss; the first of the many in their life together, which is only beginning.

*Continues in Pt. II

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

Thank you once again for the beautiful Ask! I truly enjoyed working on this ❤ Also, please don't ever feel that you need to apologize to another ESL speaker/writer for the language. We're always learning 💖 Take care! xoxo

[buckyownsmylife]

t r e a c h e r o u s - chapter ii

for general warnings, author’s notes and disclaimer, please go to the fic’s masterlist 

if you’re interested, you can join my taglist

A/N for this chapter: still no smut on this one, you guys - but the next three will be pretty much pwp, so this is just me creating the little plot necessary to better enjoy the rest. That being said, this chapter is just the conversation between Sebastian and Chris that leads to the voyeurism (and subsequent affair), so if you want to skip, it’s absolutely fine. In fact, if you’re uncomfortable seeing Chris being manipulative and a lousy friend (or knowing Seb’s thoughts and feelings considering this fic is about him being cheated on), perhaps it’s best to ignore it. I still hope you guys will enjoy it, I can’t wait for the next chapter already!

Chris’ P.O.V.

I smiled as I saw Sebastian appear through the bar’s door. “Hey, man!” I called out to him, who quickly made his way towards the table I had picked out for us tonight. Despite not feeling worried after he had texted asking to see me tonight, the look on his face definitely scared me.

“Dude, what’s wrong?” My friend simply signaled for the same beer as me before finally taking a deep breath to answer.

“It’s Y/N.” I tried to ignore how those words made me feel. Ever since Sebastian had introduced me to his girlfriend, I had been having a hard time to keep her out of my head. It was particularly hard to be around her, whenever he brought her to parties or whatever. Not only did she have an incredibly tempting body, but her personality was equally intoxicating, and I loved talking to her whenever he brought her around. Despite being younger, she had a brilliant mind and the most wicked sense of humour.

It wasn’t rare that I found myself envying Sebastian for having met her first.

“What’s wrong?” I asked when the surprise finally started to wear down. “Did you guys break up?” It took a lot more effort than I expected to keep the excitement out of my tone.

“No. Well, not yet. To be completely honest, we almost did, actually.” Sighing, he took a swig of his bottle before continuing. I figured he needed the courage. “She’s… Ok, so you know how she’s... younger than us?”

Nodding, I wordlessly signaled for him to continue, growing more interested in this subject by the second.

“Every time she tried to initiate… you know, sexual activities, I’ve found myself unable to… perform.” I had to bite my lip not to laugh. Here I was, having to ignore a boner every time I so much as thought about my friend’s girlfriend and he couldn’t even get it up for her.

“Shit, man. I’m sorry to hear that. But is it only because of the age thing?” Sebastian nodded at my question.

“I mean, yeah. Obviously, I can see that she’s attractive, but for whatever reason, I can’t find myself being attracted to her. At least not when we try to initiate something. Everytime we touch I feel like a predator or whatever.” I took a deep breath before asking my next question.

“So now, what? You’re going to keep dating without having sex?” He just shrugged, a frown on his face.

“I’d be happy to, but Y/N is a ‘very sexual person’, as she likes to say. Despite the fact that I don’t see her that way.” A low chuckle escaped his chest, but it was clear to see that he felt low about the subject. “She thinks it’s better for us to break up than to keep ourselves in a relationship that doesn’t fulfill us.”

I was once again impressed by the maturity of the woman. “Sorry, man, but I have to agree with her.” My friend sighed, letting his head fall down on the table.

Seb’s P.O.V.

“You think I don’t know that? Shit, but I love her, man. I really do. I don’t want to have to learn how to live without her.” I still kept my head down as I confessed this, but I knew Chris had heard me. He didn’t offer me any words of courage, though, so I ended up raising my gaze to look at him again.

At the sight of my eyes once more, he finally spoke. “Well, what are you going to do, then?” I shrugged, taking the opportunity to take another swig of my beer.

“I don’t know. She offered me a lot of ideas, we’re supposed to think about what we can do to change my way of viewing her, and then reconvene, but I’m literally flying blind over here.”

Chris didn’t speak for a bit, opting to drink a bit more before finally asking, “What kind of ideas?” Should it be weird to talk about this with my best friend in the middle of a crowded bar? I don’t know, but I needed any help I could get, so this was happening.

“I don’t know, anything, really? She offered to film a sex tape, we’ve already tried watching porn together, she tried giving me a lap dance… She even asked if seeing her being fucked by someone else wouldn’t help it.”

Chris tensed up at the suggestion and I silently appreciated his effort not to laugh.

“She… She offered to let someone else fuck her in front of you?” He didn’t sound judgmental as he asked for clarification, so I didn’t mind giving it to him.

“Yeah. She thinks maybe that will make me see her in a different way.” For a second, Chris didn’t say anything else. But then he asked something I wasn’t anticipating.

“Well… will it?” Huh. I hadn’t actually given it a lot of thought. I’d been more preoccupied with the possibility of losing her, but the truth was, I had to figure out what could be done so that wouldn’t happen. And that was one of her suggestions.

“I mean… probably? I think it’d play with some aspect of jealousy and possession, while still being much sexier than simply watching porn or a homemade video together. I… I think I could see myself doing that, the only question is… who would we invite to do this?” 

I played with the bottle in my hands as I pondered over the question, until Chris cleared his throat, calling my attention to him. “Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. Besides listening to you, of course.” He didn’t meet my eyes, and I could see that he was a bit uncomfortable. Maybe the subject of our conversation had finally dawned upon him. Or maybe…

Did he think I’d invite him? Was that why he was fidgety? He didn’t want to have to tell me no? The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Chris was, in fact, the best option to do this with. To start off, he was the only person besides me and Y/N who knew about our situation. He was my best friend and he was good friends with her, and he’d never once done anything to make me feel jealous of her.

“Chris…” I called his attention. “Listen, bud… You can say no and I will not be angry or disappointed, really, but I have to ask. Would you consider doing this for us?” His eyes pierced mine in the dim light of the bar, and for a few seconds, he said nothing. I didn’t interrupt the relative silence that’d fallen upon us either, wanting to give him the time to think.

Just when I was able to offer him the possibility of answering me some other day, he nodded, the beer bottle between his lips as he took a sip. “Sure, man. I can do this for you. And I think it’s the best option, right? Definitely better than involving another person in your relationship. At least, you can trust me.”

He was right. I trusted Chris, that’s why I told him about what was going on in the first place. We made a toast to our undying friendship and I promised to text him after I’d spoken to Y/N, so we could figure out the details. That night, I went home extremely thankful for having a friend like Chris, and the hope that my relationship could be salvaged in the end.

[darkpoisonouslove]

Ah, good that you reblogged the ask game again - I was supposed to send some of these, but I forgot! Anyway, 💖😐👀🌝✨👩‍🏭 (and of course (as long as you want to) 🖊 !)

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

I love the way that I weave words and concepts together. Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere and sometimes it takes a little effort but I love the way that it all comes together like a puzzle that has the most unexpected pieces but they still fit with each other. It makes for unique images. I haven't quite seen anyone do that the way that I do and I am proud of it.

😐 What embarrasses you most about your own writing?

Descriptions are way up there, especially in English because there are so many words about movements and I just have zero idea which one I am supposed to use. I do not know all of them (or that many either) and it's just 😅. I have no idea what is going on aND IT BOTHERS ME SO MUCH!!!!!!!

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

That I would never let see the light of day? I have so many ideas that a lot of them probably won't see the light of day because I simply won't have the time for them. But something that I won't let see the light of day? Probably all of those Erendor x Samara ones that are so OOC that they would need MAJOR reworking (to the point of changing the entire idea) in order to be presentable to anyone else's eyes. And I have several fics including the Winx girls that are just too dark to be let out in the internet space. I don't feel like having hateful anons coming after me.

🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

I answered this here. But hm, okay, if I were to pick another one, I guess I'm really looking forward to writing Luna. The show was scarce with characterization for her and I have given her a more prominent role and, hopefully, made her more interesting.

✨ Choose three adjectives to complement your own writing.

Clever, emotional and insightful (I would like to believe so)

👩‍🏭 If one of your fics was going to get you arrested, which one and why?

Probably one of the dub/non-con variety because the purity police never sleeps. (I don't want to pick a particular one and call attention to it just in case.)

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

Here's an excerpt from the SoL bachelorette party:

"You were the first one to know her. You have to tell us what kind of wedding little Griffin dreamed of!" Zarathustra would fall over in Faragonda's lap as far forward as she was leaning.

Ediltrude's wine glass was just short of touching her lips as if it couldn't satisfy her thirst despite how tempting it was and Griselda fixed her glasses on her nose, waiting to read into every little detail. Even Marion was staring at Faragonda, the quietness clinging to her shifting into anticipation.

"It's not my place to say." Faragonda locked eyes with Griffin, their squabble over the photo Griffin had threatened to send to Hagen put to rest. She could count on Faragonda to be the bigger person in their friendship. At least when it really counted.

"Come on!" Ediltrude whined. "It's not fair. We don't get to go to a wedding, we don't get to hire her strippers because you're boring," she pointed at Faragonda and Marion who'd organized the party, her wine swishing around in the glass with her vehemence, "and we barely got her to throw one lousy bouquet." That was unfair to the housekeeper who'd done her best with the flowers blooming in the garden and put together a little bouquet for Griffin to toss at the others.

"How long are you gonna sulk over catching it?" Zara made herself the victim of a kick in the shin from Ediltrude's heel but quickly retaliated with an elbow in her sister's ribs.

Ediltrude threw her crumpled napkin at her. "At least we'll get to hear the details from Auntie Em who hasn't been banished from your wedding."

Griffin blinked at her, the words echoing in her ears like a siren. An alarm for danger.

Zara stepped on Ediltrude's toes but it was Faragonda's glare that made Ediltrude crouch. "I'm sorry, Griffin. I didn't mean to…"

It was Griselda's hand on hers that saved Griffin from the current that had drowned Ediltrude's voice. The warmth startled her against the tears already blurring her vision. Her father had never seen Valtor, would never see her in her improvised wedding dress, could not lead her down the isle. And Valtor had no loving parents to see him through their wedding, had no family except the one she'd said yes to and she hadn't wanted to make him more aware of that. More aware that the feeling was shared despite all the people offering her a hand currently, despite her mother's presence at their wedding. Her family had been broken, too, and without a blueprint she could mess up the one they were creating together beyond repair.

"It's okay," she squeezed Griselda's hand lightly but didn't let go when Griselda didn't try to either. "I know you didn't mean it like that. And I'm sorry I can't invite you to a wedding." Their happiness for her was infectious and she was already full of sparks that would flicker out without Valtor's hand in hers. "I promise you we'll have a celebration when we get back from our honeymoon." It wouldn't be just about her and Valtor but a celebration of all the relationships in her life, of her family. All of her friends understood her pain in one way or another. And all of them understood her love.

"At least that way you might have gotten fucked enough that you won't look like you'll jump Valtor's bones at any moment." Ediltrude scrunched up her nose before pouring her disgust down with some wine.

Griffin flashed her a smile. "Never." She glanced at Marion to make sure she wasn't spacing out from discomfort.

Ask me fanfic questions

[monokyokyo]

Flower Boy

An old one but I'm working on a part 2 so I figured I'd share it anyway!

Jongsang (although it's not really focused on), pretty fluffy, Jongho is a florist

Flowers had a range of emotions. From the fiery passion of roses to the sombre colour of forget me nots'. Jongho found comfort in the likes of these pristine plants. After all, he had an entire shop dedicated to nearly every flower the region had to offer. It was such a simple job yet there was nothing he would rather do.

Every day, someone new entered his shop in search of a flower to suit their tastes or situation, and it was Jongho's job to assist them.

The day started out normal. Jongho was rearranging the objects on the front counter when a familiar face strutted in. "Hello Mr Park," He greeted the tall man cheerfully.

"How many times must I tell you? Just Seonghwa is fine." Chuckled the customer as he removed his sparkling sunglasses.

"I'm sorry. What can I do for you today, Mr Park?" Seonghwa shook his head, deciding to just leave it be. His eyes travelled around the small shop, a light hum coming from his lips.

"I'm looking for something that really pops! You know? This couple is really into gemstones, so they're having a crystal wedding." Seonghwa was a wedding planner. Every now and again, usually once or twice a week, he would come to Jongho's store in search of the perfect flowers to impress his clients. He was a rather picky individual and Jongho learned during their very first encounter that he wasn't someone whose time should be wasted.

As such, Jongho got right to looking for the perfect bunch of flowers for the occasion. He glanced around before finally landing on what he hoped was the right bouquet. "Why not freesia?" He suggested. "The red ones represent passion, something these two must have a lot of if they're theming their wedding around their love of crystals. Wouldn't you say?"

Seonghwa nodded at him, a slight grin forming on his face at the bright smile on the younger man's face. "I would say indeed. Alright, I'll need two dozen bouquets. I'll send you the details on the wrapping later." He put his sunglasses on and turned to the door. "Give me a call when you're ready to plan your wedding, hey Jongho? I promise I'll give you the best of the best."

"I'm only twenty," He giggled. "I've still got some time, Mr Park."

Seonghwa chuckled. "Indeed you do." He left, leaving Jongho with a smile on his face.

About an hour or so later, the bell above the store entrance dinged. Jongho looked up from his order and saw a man scanning, somewhat frantically, through several displays of flowers. "How many I help you today?" Jongho asked the customer cheerfully.

The man sighed and sluggishly walked over to the counter. "I need the perfect flower for my boyfriend. He's been going through a lot recently and I need something to show him that I'm here for him..." Jongho tilted his head at this and hummed. He told the man to wait a moment then hopped over to one of the shelves.

"Here," He said. The man looked down curiously at the pink hydrangea in Jongho's hand. "Pink hydrangea for a passionate and emotional romance. You clearly care about him a lot. I'm sure these flowers will show him that." Jongho tilted his head at the light hum of consideration he received, hoping he would take up his suggestion. "I could label the bouquet if you'd like? What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Wooyoung," Jongho didn't fail to notice the way the man smiled at the mere mention of his boyfriend's name. He found it sweet how love two people could share with one another. Words are hard to express, but one could show them through something as simple as a flower. So Jongho made sure to put on the nicest tag he had, and encased the hydrangea a shiny, clear plastic to keep them safe.

"I hope things go well for you two," Said Jongho just as they finished their transaction. He handed the man the bouquet, sending him a grin with it. "Have a good day Mr..."

"San. Choi San," Then they parted ways. It made Jongho feel a certain pride inside, knowing he had the potential to help someone with his flowers. Regardless of if he knew the turnout, at least he was able to provide some assistance to those who would appreciate it. Well, it wasn't always appreciated.

About thirty or so minutes later, another familiar face stormed into the flower shop. The front door slammed open, disturbing the usual calm atmosphere of the store when he stomped in. An empty vase on the counter, nearly cracking it and causing Jongho to flinch from his seat. He let out a yelp in surprise, a small squeak that only made the man in front of him scoff.

"M-Mr Jeong? I'm sorry I-"

"You should be," Growled the older man. He pushed back his blonde hair with an aggressive sigh while Jongho slowly pulled back the clay pot. His brow furrowed in confusion, wondering what could've gone so wrong that he would come back so vexed, especially after their calm encounter last week. Mr Jeong or, Yunho, had ordered a pot of roses for his girlfriend. Could she have hated them that much?

"I-If you don't mind me asking...What happened last week?"

The blonde huffed, though it sounded more like a growl to Jongho's sensitive ears. "She's allergic," The younger male squinted, carefully asking him to repeat himself. "Are you deaf? I said she's fucking allergic!" Jongho flinched back at his harsh and loud tone yet Yunho hardly made the effort to reel himself back in.

"You sold me these damn flowers, giving me this grand speech about how special they'll make her feel and how she'll love them and you know what happens? She ends sneezing through our entire date! Why the hell would you give those to me?!"

"W-Well how was I s-supposed to know? Y-You came in asking for flowers!" The look Yunho gave him had to be the scariest thing Jongho had ever seen...in his shop. He was tall, about six foot, and easily towered over the cowering boy.

"Are you saying this is my fault?" He seethed through his gritted teeth. Jongho gulped, unsure of what to do in this sort of situation. He had never had anyone this angry over roses of all things.

"W-Well, no...I'm not blaming you but...shouldn't you have known?" He flinched yet again when Yunho leered closer, his hands thrown up in what would likely be, useless defence.

"Those roses had to be bugged, sprayed with something, I don't know! You had to have done something to them! We have roses at home for crying out loud!"

"And do you water them?" When Jongho's only response was silence, he lowered his arms, creasing his brow.

"Well...I've never seen anyone water them...but..."

"So...You ordered real roses thinking that your girlfriend wouldn't be allergic...because she doesn't react to the fake roses in your home?" Yunho could only sputter out a string of incoherent words that basically proved Jongho's suspicions to be correct. In response, he sighed then wordlessly pulled out his logbook.

Yunho watched curiously as he flipped through before he landed on last week. Jongho then grabbed a piece of paper and asked for the man's card, which he reluctantly agreed to. When it was handed back to him, Jongho hit him with a frow. "Here is your receipt sir. I've refunded your flowers..." The face alone was enough to make anyone feel lousy but the way his words trailed off just added extra salt to the wound.

So just before he took his receipt and left, Yunho mumbled something under his breath to the boy. "Thank you...for what it's worth...she loved the flowers before she started sneezing..." A tiny grin formed on Jongho's face and it made Yunho sigh, successfully feeling like less of an ass.

Jongho never had aggressive customers. Irritated, sure, but no one had ever gotten that upset with him. It was a flower shop after all. All of that before twelve as well...

The brunette let out a sigh of relief when his phone went off at twelve-thirty, signalling that it was finally his lunch break. Though the day was mostly quiet, he hadn't eaten since that morning and was eager to fill his stomach with some sort of nutrients. However, just before you could put up his 'Back in 20 minutes sign', the sound of the doorbell caught his attention. In shuffled a man with jet black hair, featuring various strands of gold.

His eyes were light red and his face was a little puffy as well. Jongho didn't give himself a moment to mourn his lost lunch break and hastily rushed over to greet the once crying figure. "I'm sorry...Am I bothering you?" He sniffled, wiping whatever remaining tears he had.

"No, not at all! What can I help you with?"

The man fidgeted slightly, eyes wandering around the shop and towards the floor. Clearly, he was trying to look anywhere but at Jongho, something the younger wasn't at all bothered by. "I'm looking for a flower..." He shook his head, muttering how that was obvious. "A gift I mean. I-It's for..."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to..." Shaking his head once, the customer told him that it was alright, followed by mumbling a few things that Jongho didn't quite get. "Pardon?"

"S-Sorry I um...I just got back from the hospital..." Judging by his mannerisms, Jongho couldn't quite tell if he was a patient or if he was merely visiting someone. "My father he um...isn't doing too well," Well now he felt awful for assuming his condition. "I just wanted to get him some flowers and my boyfriend recommended this place..."

The snap from Jongho's fingers made the older male flinch, put off by the rather bright grin on his face. "You must be Wooyoung! San's boyfriend, right?"

"Y-Yes...That's me..." Jongho had realised his awfully chipper tone wasn't very appropriate and did Wooyoung a favour by calming himself down.

"Sorry...Why don't you browse around and tell me what catches your eye." A slight nod was all Jongho got before Wooyoung began to walk around the store. He tried his best not to follow the young man whilst he strolled about but it was difficult not to be curious. The way he moved was so tired, sluggish even and Jongho knew he wouldn't find anything he would like in a reasonable amount of time.

So, with that, Jongho stood to his feet and made his way over to the mixed-haired male, following his gaze across the shelves. "Anything that's caught your interest?" His sudden question made Wooyoung jump. Jongho apologised as soon as he startled him yet the older only turned away.

"I'm sorry...I don't really know what I'm doing here," Jongho heard his airy chuckle but it definitely wasn't humorous. "I don't know the first thing about flowers or what he would like...I think I'll just go."

Jongho grabbed his arm before he could turn away, earning him a questionable look from Wooyoung. His arm was yanked back and Jongho replied with a nervous laugh. "Sorry. Um, stay right here?" With the soft tone of his voice, Wooyoung couldn't possibly leave yet. So he sighed to himself while watching the young florist run off to the corner of the room, where an array of purple flowers caught his eye.

He came back not too long later with a bouquet in his hands. "Iris'," Said Jongho just as he handed them off. "They represent hope. I hope you and your family have enough, but a little more won't hurt. Stay strong." Wooyoung looked down at the flowers in his hand. Incoming tears were the only thing he saw as they began to fill his vision, eventually clouding it entirely until he felt the water roll down his pale cheeks.

Whatever words he mumbled to Jongho were interrupted by his unstable breaths and cries but it hadn't deterred him in the slightest. Instead of charging him the moment Wooyoung was handed the flowers, Jongho asked him if he would like a cup of hot chocolate. The older male wiped his tears, offering him a slight grin and saying: "T-That would be wonderful..."

Jongho even gave him extra marshmallows to make him feel better.

It was rather late when Wooyoung left. Well, if you count quarter past three to be late - which Jongho did. Although, he didn't mind much. Wooyoung left his store with a smile, flowers and a cheeky bit of foam around his lips. It was good enough for him.

Thankfully, Jongho had gotten to eat a cookie or two while speaking with the mixed-haired male. It was just enough to distract his growling stomach while he helped his few customers. One of which was certainly one of the most intimidating Jongho had seen yet.

A tall stature, black leather jacket, red hair and a dark stare - Jongho had no clue what he was doing in a flower shop of all places. However, he had learned to never judge a book by its cover and greeted the man with a bright beam, just as he did with all his other customers. "Hello..." His voice certainly fit his appearance. It was deep, like it could reach the depths of the ocean if he wanted it to.

"How can I help you today?" Said Jongho, as he waved to the old lady who had just bought a pot of daisies right before the redhead entered.

"I'm looking for some flowers..." As obvious as that may have sounded, Jongho didn't hold it against him though. It was clear that he had never been in a store like this. The poor man looked too scared to touch anything as if he were afraid it was going to burst into flames if he so much as lifted a finger. Honestly, Jongho found it rather cute.

"Of course! What kind?" That didn't seem to be the right question to ask. As all the man did was rock back and forth on his heels, the gears turning in his head as attempted to come up with a suitable answer.

"Um...Pretty ones?" Jongho nearly giggled at how adorable his answer was. He was clueless about flowers and the young florist was ready to help him find the perfect one for his occasion. Walking from behind the counter, Jongho made his way to his titan of a customer and looked up at him. He was quite small in comparison but he didn't mind.

"I'll help you find the prettiest ones around! Who are they for?" Big men like him didn't usually visit Jongho's shop, so it was no surprise when a light blush crept across the customer's cheek and he began to avert eye contact in embarrassment.

"They're um...f-for my mother..." This time, Jongho didn't hesitate to giggle, eliciting a deeper blush from the taller male. "D-Don't laugh! What? Got a problem with me getting a gift from my mother?" The man's tone dropped to a frightfully low level, ending Jongho's laughter within seconds.

"I didn't mean it like that...It's just, I'm surprised. That's all. Not many tough looking guys like you come in here." This time, it was the other male's turn to laugh. A 180 that was nothing but appreciated by Jongho.

"Never judge a book by its cover, I suppose," He sent Jongho a grin and the younger smiled right back. "My mother's been telling me all about this shop, she comes here every Tuesday to look at the flowers and pick up supplies for her garden. She was busy today, so she asked me to pick a few things for her house."

"Oh! You must be Mrs Song's son? Mingi, was it?" The redhead nodded at him, continuing to grin even as he chuckled somewhat awkwardly. "She talks about you quite a bit. The one that sleeps with plushies, right?"

"Yep, that's me. I'll be honest, I'm not much of a flower guy but my mother adores them. Mind helping me pick out something she would like?" Jongho nodded at him, eagerly bouncing up and down in a way that made Mingi giggle.

Despite his rough exterior, Mingi was a rather sweet person. Listening attentively and nodding along as Jongho told him about his various selection of flowers and even giving his own input, saying what and what not his mother would like. Eventually, the two settled on yellow daffodils, quite a few dahlias and a tiny pot of lavender. Once Mingi was completely sure this was perfect, he bid Jongho farewell, promising to come visit again with his mother at some point. The prospect of seeing him again made Jongho grin. Another satisfied customer.

The day was officially coming to a close. Jongho sighed the moment the final customer went on their way. It was a rather old lady and he had just spent the last fifteen minutes explaining that the stamen and anther of her plants weren't insects. A rather draining conversation, as you can imagine. After that, the young man was just about ready to close his shop and head home.

He glanced at the clock, smiling at it finally struck six. Closing time. He trotted over to the front door and got ready to flip to the open sign to close. Yet just before he could do so, the door suddenly swung open and Jongho flinched back in surprise. A hand grabbed his waist just before he could fall backwards, lifting his body to meet another.

Light, sparkling brown eyes met with Jongho's dark ones. His hazel hair managed to look unkempt yet too perfect to fix and his expression was soft but his features were sharp, almost prince-like. He was the epitome of beauty. "Are you still open?" Were the first words to leave his soft lips.

Jongho couldn't find the words or the will to say no or so much as shake his head. All he did was slowly escape his grip, carefully gesturing him into the store. The stranger smiled at him then made his way in. Jongho gulped, watching his every movement. He had seen him before. A delivery boy from the restaurant down the road. The two had never spoken but Jongho knew he existed. Yet he yearned for more.

"Do you know what you're looking for?" He inquired in a voice more akin to a whisper rather than his usual upbeat speaking voice. The older brunette turned back to him. Jongho thought he had done something wrong judging by his stare yet the smile returned to his face.

Slowly, he made his way towards the florist, prompting Jongho to step back until he was pressed against one of the displays. "You," He stated simply.

Blush erupted onto Jongho's cheeks, sending him into an internal frenzy of panic. "M-Me? What do you..." He trailed off when the other male picked a lone rose from the table. Oh...he meant the rose. He told Jongho that he would take it and go, filling him with a heavy heart.

With that, Jongho filled out their transaction, trying his best not to let his gaze travel to the lean figure in front of him. How could he be so intimidating while doing practically nothing?

The man had sweater paws for crying out loud.

Jongho then handed him the rose and a receipt. "Have a good evening, sir..." Yet he hadn't left yet. He glanced up to see the man wrapping a tag around the flower, before he placed it back on the counter. Just before Jongho could question what he was doing, he was hit with another smile.

"Good night, flower boy." Was all he said before he leaned in and placed a kiss on the younger's forehead. Just like, he disappeared into the night. Like a strange yet delightful dream Jongho had experienced in the wake of dawn.

Cautiously, he glanced at the rose that was left on the counter.

Call me XXX-XXX-XXXXX Kang Yeosang I would love to get to know you, Flower Boy